Thanks for the Invitation, Just Crossed into Two Cities, and My Golden Finger is a Mailbox! (update)

Boom!!!

The earth-shattering explosion jolted Link Star awake from his slumber.

He lifted his head from the desk, his face smeared with dried ink, making him look utterly ridiculous.

"What the hell?"

The young man pushed himself up, kicking the chair beneath him as he stumbled toward the window. He flung it open and shouted into the street below, his voice filled with irritation.

"Who the hell is setting off fireworks this early in the morning?!"

"Don't you have any decency? Do you even care about your—"

Before he could finish his tirade, the blinding sunlight stopped him in his tracks.

His eyes widened as he took in the scene below.

The street was wide and bustling, lined with buildings made of limestone bricks and trimmed wood. Bronze accents, lead-glass windows, and brass rooftops glimmered under the sun, reflecting dazzling light onto the cobblestones.

Well-dressed pedestrians filled the streets, their murmurs rising and falling like waves as they all turned their attention eastward. The whispers carried on the wind, reaching Link's ears as faint, indistinct murmurs that only added to his growing confusion.

"Where... am I?"

Link recoiled from the windowsill as if stung by a scorpion. He stumbled backward, his feet scrambling chaotically until his back hit the wall. His wide eyes darted around the unfamiliar room.

This wasn't his home.

The stained-glass window was wide open, its curtains fluttering restlessly in the breeze. To the left of the window was a large desk cluttered with design sketches and tools. A makeshift metal plate was nailed to one of the legs to keep it steady.

A shelf stood beside the desk, crammed with half-finished inventions and books. To the right was a bed, its sheets tangled and stained with ink. An old wardrobe stood nearby, one of its doors hanging open to reveal a mirror that reflected Link's pale, bewildered face.

"Is this... me?"

Link staggered to the mirror, dropping to his knees as he touched his face. His sharp eyebrows framed wide, confused eyes, and his nose was straight and strong above thin lips. His skin was pale, either from lack of sunlight or poor nutrition, giving him a sickly appearance.

This face was eerily similar to his own, but younger—much younger.

"What the hell happened to me?"

As he muttered to himself, a flood of fragmented memories surged into his mind.

The sudden influx of unfamiliar memories clashed with his own, sending a searing pain through his skull. It felt as though his brain was being torn in two, as if he were standing in two rivers at once.

In one river, he saw the life of an ordinary man named Link: studying, working, and striving to become a master machinist. He had succeeded, earning his certification, only to die in his sleep after a night of celebration.

In the other river, he saw the life of a young inventor named Link Star: an orphan who had worked tirelessly to make a name for himself in Piltover, the City of Progress. But his relentless efforts had led to his untimely death at his desk.

The two rivers merged, and as the waters rose, Link understood.

"I've... crossed over into another world."

He let out a bitter laugh, releasing his head from his hands.

"Alcohol really is the devil. No wonder my mentor always warned me to stay away from the drink and stick to the lathe."

But—

Link steadied himself, rising to his feet. His steps were shaky at first, but they grew stronger and more confident as he approached the window.

He looked out again, feeling the breeze from the canal brush against his face.

"Life goes on. With my skills as a master machinist, I could survive anywhere—even in a post-apocalyptic wasteland. I could build a gun from scratch if I had to!"

Link felt a surge of confidence, but he knew he needed to figure out exactly where—and when—he was.

According to the memories of his new body, this city was Piltover, and its sister city below was Zaun.

Wait.

Piltover and Zaun?

Did that mean—

He was in the world of League of Legends?

More specifically, the world of Arcane?

The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

"Don't panic. Don't panic!"

Link took a deep breath, tapping the windowsill as he tried to gather his thoughts.

First, he needed to figure out the timeline. Knowing the events of Arcane could give him a significant advantage.

But what point in the story was he at?

He glanced northeast and spotted a towering building engulfed in smoke. Flames flickered within the dark clouds, and even from this distance, he could make out the emblem of Piltover hanging midway up the structure.

"The Council building... it's been bombed?"

Link's jaw dropped.

"Does that mean I'm at the end of Season 1 or the beginning of Season 2?"

He remembered the finale of Arcane: Jinx, consumed by grief after killing her adoptive father Silco, had fired a super-powered rocket at the Council building. The explosion had marked the end of the first season and set the stage for the second.

If the Council building was still burning, then he was right at the start of Season 2.

[System Notification: Host has recognized the current worldline and timeline. Dimensional Mailbox installation beginning.]

[1%... 37%... 66%... 81%... 100%]

[Dimensional Mailbox installation complete. You can now use the mailbox to communicate with entities across different timelines within the same universe. Exchange information, trade resources, and more.]

[We wish you a prosperous life and a bright future.]

A series of notifications flashed before Link's eyes, leaving him stunned.

Soon, a simple mailbox interface appeared in front of him.

"Is this... my cheat ability?"

Link examined the interface. It was barebones, with only two functions: Compose Mail and Check Mail.

He focused on the Compose Mail option, and a writing interface unfolded before him, reminiscent of an email client from his past life.

When he tried the Check Mail function, he was notified that there were no new messages.

Link stared at the floating screen, deep in thought.

"A mailbox as a cheat ability? Really? Is this even legit?"

He sighed.

Well, having a cheat was better than nothing.

But how could he use it?

There's no such thing as a useless tool—only people who don't know how to use them.

Link's gaze fell on the name of the system at the top of the interface:

[Dimensional Mailbox]

If this mailbox could send messages to different timelines within the same universe, could he use it to ask for help from parallel versions of himself—or others?

Or, more bluntly, could he use it to beg for resources?

Link's eyebrows shot up.

That... might actually work.

If people in his old world could beg for money online, why couldn't he beg across parallel universes?

But how should he start?