One day, I was accidentally bound to a system that called itself the "Plane Tourism Bureau" - it neither forced me to capture anyone nor save the world. Its only mission was to take me on a "check-in tour" in thousands of small worlds.
From the steampunk-style mechanical city to the fairy mountain floating in the clouds; from the primitive continent where dinosaurs have not yet become extinct, to the interstellar space station with the explosion of technology; you can even get into an ancient novel and watch the bloody first encounter between the male and female protagonists, or jump into the world of martial arts and listen to the charlatans bragging about their wildest bullshit in a mountaintop teahouse.
The system will match me with the most "do as the Romans do" identity: working as a flower girl in the magical world and learning the fireball technique; working as a scavenger in the apocalyptic ruins, only to find ice cream in the freezers of the abandoned supermarket; working as a busboy in an ancient palace, secretly watching the emperor and ministers quarrel over whether to eat sweet rice dumplings or salty rice dumplings today.
There are no mandatory tasks, no penalties for failure, just a "plane postcard" that can never be filled. Every time you visit a world, the system will unlock new "tourist achievements": for example, successfully drinking a cup of hot cocoa during the zombie siege, planting spiritual grass into a potted plant in the world of immortality, and teaching robots to sing old earth songs in the interstellar era.
Occasionally, you will encounter small episodes - helping a lost interstellar cub find its mother, giving plot suggestions for an ancient scholar's storybook, or sharing half a compressed biscuit with a strange survivor in the apocalypse. But more often than not, I am just a curious traveler, watching different sunrises and moonsets, tasting all kinds of strange foods, and putting the fireworks of each world into the backpack of memory...
