One day, I accidentally bonded with a System that called itself the "Plane Tourism Bureau." It doesn't force me to win anyone over or make me save the world. Its only task is to take me sightseeing across countless little worlds.
From steampunk mechanical cities to immortal mountains floating among the clouds; from a primordial continent where dinosaurs never went extinct to a high-tech space station; I can even step into an old-fashioned novel to watch the leads' melodramatic first encounter, or hop into a martial arts world and listen to jianghu folk boast outrageously at a teahouse on a mountaintop.
The System matches me with an identity that best fits the local customs: working as a flower seller in a magic world and picking up a fireball spell along the way; scavenging in the ruins of an apocalypse, only to find a discarded supermarket with a freezer full of ice cream; or doing odd jobs in an ancient imperial palace and secretly watching the emperor and his ministers argue over whether to eat sweet or savory rice dumplings today.
There are no mandatory missions and no penalties for failure, just a "Planar Postcard" that can never be filled. Every time I visit a world, the System unlocks new "sightseeing achievements": like managing to enjoy a cup of hot cocoa during a zombie siege, growing spirit herbs as potted plants in the cultivation world, or teaching a robot to sing an old Earth song in the interstellar age.
Every now and then, a little incident comes up: helping a lost interstellar cub find its mother, giving an ancient scholar some plot suggestions for his story, or sharing half a ration bar with a stranger in the apocalypse. But most of the time, I'm simply a curious traveler, watching the sun rise and set in different places, sampling all kinds of strange foods, and packing the warmth and bustle of every world into the backpack of my memories...
