Chapter 4: Between Two Worlds
The morning after uploading the first chapter of Journey of the Wanderer, Abid awoke to a gentle pinging noise from his phone.
He rubbed his eyes and checked the system app. At first, he assumed it was another reward notification, but when he opened the screen, what greeted him was entirely different.
A glowing new tab had appeared, labeled:
"Reader Reactions – Fantasy World Only"
His heart skipped a beat. He tapped it.
A cascade of messages flowed down the screen, formatted like a mix between an email inbox and a forum thread. The usernames weren't typical Earth names—they looked like something out of a high fantasy novel.
@LeafReader39: "The Wanderer's first step made me cry. I once left my village alone at age 14. This manga… it speaks to that feeling."
@GildedScribe: "Is this 'Abid' some kind of dream-seer? How does he know how we feel?"
@FirethistleDancer: "Can someone please tell me when Chapter 2 is coming? My younger brother can't sleep without re-reading the final page."
Abid's hands froze above his screen.
He had never expected this—not in the slightest. On Earth, his webcomics and illustrations barely got a few likes. Now, strangers from another world were connecting with his story on a level that felt deeply personal.
He scrolled further, heart pounding.
One message stood out among the rest. It had a slightly different format, bordered in gold.
Direct Message – Library Curator Anra, City of Virellin
"Esteemed Story-Crafter Abid,
I hope this message reaches you well. I am Anra, Head Curator of the Royal Archive Library in the capital city of Virellin. As keeper of stories and histories, I found your 'Journey of the Wanderer' to be of extraordinary cultural and emotional value.
Would you consider donating a printed copy to our collection? It would be placed under 'Modern Stories of the Shared Dream,' a special shelf for literature believed to cross the boundaries of realms.
With utmost respect,
—Anra"
Abid blinked. He reread it, then again. Printed copy? Archive Library? Shared Dream?
Before he could reply, the system buzzed again.
System Notification: First Foreign Contact Reached
Reward: "Virtual Courier – Scroll Edition" unlocked.
Function: Transmit single-issue manga scrolls to select fantasy world addresses (limit: 1 per day).
His phone vibrated again, and this time, a semi-transparent screen appeared above it, showing a beautifully detailed scroll interface. It looked ancient—red ribbons, gold-inked trim, and spaces to "transcribe" a manga page in stylized panels.
Abid stared in awe.
So the system wasn't just about uploading chapters. It allowed physical—or semi-physical—delivery to individual readers in the other world. One scroll a day, carefully chosen. A new level of connection.
He selected Journey of the Wanderer, Chapter 1, added a short dedication to Curator Anra, and pressed Send.
The scroll glowed briefly, then vanished in a soft flash.
Somewhere, in some city of a world he'd never visited, a scroll would be unwrapped by an old librarian in a robe. That thought alone sent shivers through Abid's body.
---
He took a long walk that afternoon to settle his thoughts. Dhaka's streets were buzzing as usual—vendors calling out prices, rickshaws weaving between taxis, the clink of teacups in roadside stalls.
But Abid walked slowly, earbuds in but no music playing. His mind was adrift.
Something had changed. He was no longer just a reclusive artist in a small apartment. He was now… something else. A bridge, maybe. A quiet traveler between two realms.
He stopped at a small tea stall near the mosque, sat down, and ordered milk tea. The uncle behind the stall recognized him and gave a faint nod.
"Drawing again?" the man asked.
Abid smiled politely. "Yeah. Something new."
The tea arrived with a swirl of steam, and as Abid sipped, his mind wandered back to the messages. Story-crafter Abid, they'd called him. Dream-seer. Creator.
What a strange feeling it was—to be respected, even honored, for something he'd created from his own loneliness.
---
That evening, he returned home and opened the system. It was time to work again. He still hadn't drafted Chapter 2 of Journey of the Wanderer. Part of him was scared it wouldn't live up to the first.
But then he remembered the child who couldn't sleep without rereading the ending. That gave him the courage to begin.
He sat at his desk, pulled out his tablet, and began sketching.
---
Chapter 2: "The Road of Echoes"
The Wanderer meets a small child sitting alone by a road. The child speaks in riddles, claiming they're waiting for someone who never arrives. As they journey together for a time, the Wanderer learns about patience, hope, and quiet resilience.
They part ways at a bridge. The child never looks back, but waves. The Wanderer, for the first time, smiles.
---
As Abid inked the child's face—wide eyes, an impish grin—he thought of his own younger self. Lonely afternoons in his parents' old apartment, waiting for them to come home from long shifts. The way he'd talk to the empty house.
He poured that memory into the page.
By midnight, Chapter 2 was complete.
He didn't upload it right away. Instead, he leaned back and stared at the final panel.
The Wanderer was sitting under a tree, sketching in a notebook.
Alone, but not lonely.
There was peace in the image. A quiet contentment. Just as Abid now felt.
---
The next morning, a new notification appeared:
You have received a gift from the Fantasy World.
He opened the message, confused. A swirling glyph loaded on the screen, followed by a parchment-like scroll with a handwritten note.
From: Library Curator Anra
"Dear Abid,
The scroll arrived. Our library readers were enchanted. One elderly man cried. A local artist even offered to draw a mural based on the first page. As thanks, I enclose a simple token: a flower pressed between the pages of a thousand-year-old history tome. A blessing of stories.
May your pen never tire.
—Anra"
The screen shimmered. A digital rendering of the pressed flower appeared in his item inventory.
Item Acquired: "Whisperpetal"
Effect: Slight increase to inspiration regeneration. Holding it during breaks may spark new story concepts.
Abid laughed softly. He wasn't even sure how something like "inspiration regeneration" was measured, but the sentiment touched him.
This world—this other world—was becoming real to him in a way Earth had stopped feeling real for a long time.
---
That night, Abid sat by his open window, the breeze drifting through. The flower's digital glow pulsed gently on his desk, like a nightlight from another realm.
He didn't feel like drawing. Not yet. But he wanted to write. Not manga panels, not scripts—just words. A letter.
He opened a new note on his phone and typed slowly.
---
*To Whom It May Concern,*
*My name is Abid. I am not a famous man. I live in a city most of you have never seen. I used to think I was invisible. But lately, something has changed.*
*I've started to believe that stories matter more than we know. That the worlds we imagine—drawn in ink, told through pictures—can heal something real inside us.*
So I want to say thank you. To the readers, the librarians, the children waiting on bridges. You've made me feel seen.
—Abid
---
He didn't send it. Not yet. But he saved it.
Maybe one day, it would be the opening to something bigger—a foreword, or a personal note in the first printed edition of Journey of the Wanderer. Maybe.
For now, it was enough to feel that his art had meaning again.
And as he drifted to sleep, he dreamed not of fame or fortune, but of a quiet bookstore on a cobbled street, where a girl read his manga aloud to a circle of friends.
It was enough.