Ambarino, USA, 1899.

Although it was already May, the mountains of Ambarino not only showed no signs of spring melting, but instead blew a snowstorm that was rare in a century. Even elderly people who have lived in the area for decades will be pretty sure that they have never been hit by a snowstorm of this magnitude in their lives.

Perhaps it was the persecution of the blizzard, or perhaps it was because they had long been unable to stand the increasingly severe cold in the Northland mountains, and many of the people who originally lived in this area moved sooner or later, after all, the warm territory in the south is more suitable for settling down. Those who will stay in this kind of place during this season are either unable to leave due to various reasons, or there are some reasons that are difficult for ordinary people to understand.

In the evening, the village of coulters.

The abandoned mining town has been uninhabited for a long time, and although a year ago it was a stronghold of the infamous Skinning Brothers, they left the area long before winter set in. This makes sense, given that animals have always had a better sense of the weather than humans.

Today, however, there are few visitors here.

With a bang, the narrow door of the abandoned hut was violently slammed open, and the man who got into the house with the strange howling wind and snow was a tall man carrying something and a spear on his back.

The man wore a strange deerskin hat, and was wrapped in a thick cashmere coat with a towering collar that covered his nose and mouth, and only a pair of green eyes that shone with a full glow. As soon as the man entered the room, he put the thing on his shoulder on the floor, turned around, and with great difficulty closed the door again. With that done, he began to toss the fireplace in the house that had not been used for almost a year, and before long the cottage was enveloped in the warm light of the fire.

As if sensing the cold gradually dissipating, the man also took off his hat and opened his clothes, revealing long, pale blonde messy hair, a high nose, and a stubble-covered firm chin. Although his red, rough skin, unkempt appearance in the environment, and his height of at least six feet made him look at least thirty years old, the curiosity in his eyes that belonged only to a young man was incompatible with his mature appearance.

If it is an ordinary young man who lacks experience, when he finally recovers a small life from a snowstorm that is rare in a century, and is busy for a while to warm up his body, then they will immediately find a place where they can lie down and dispel the fatigue of their body, but this person is obviously far stronger than this kind of person, because he only took a slight breath, and then unloaded the gun that had been carrying it on his shoulder, and began to work on the things he had just carried in.

At this time, by the light of the fire, it was clear that the person who had carried in before was actually a deer. The breed of deer is not unusual, it is the most common white-tailed deer on this continent. This white-tailed deer looks like it has just grown up, and for a deer, it is the best years of a deer's life. Its eyes had been shattered by bullets, its blurred flesh had long been frozen by the terrible wind and snow, and there were no wounds on its body.

Laying the carcass flat in front of the fireplace, the man pulled his polished hunting knife from his waist and began to get to work. Skinning, gutting, and chopping venison, he was as skilled as a butcher before he wandered in the snowfields. The slicing of hunting knives, the ticking of half-congealed blood, and the breathing of people with little sign of age gradually drowned out the roar of the wind and snow outside, and in a short time the sounds that drowned out the sound of the wind and snow were gone, replaced by the seductive sound of raw meat roasting on the flames, and the salivating sound from people.

The night was deeper, and the blizzard was more violent than during the day, like a beast that had escaped from its trap, venting its anger wantonly. If it weren't for the fact that these houses built on the snowy fields had withstood the test, I am afraid that they would have been reduced to pieces of wood and wreckage under the power of this fierce beast.

If the world outside the door is a hell of ice and snow, then the world inside the door is a paradise of food, clothing and light. At this moment, the long-haired man with pale blonde hair and green eyes was sitting in front of the fireplace, chewing something with relish while intently writing something in charcoal on a small book with a gray cover. Heavy boots, soaked with the old snow of the mountains, were sitting upright near the fireplace, and in its place was a bloody deerskin; The cashmere coat, which looked like it was very resistant to wind and snow, was covering the man's body, just enough to perfectly cover his tall and thin body in its warmth.

The man wrote for a while, as if he was feeling a little tired, so he put down his charcoal pen, took a sip of the coffee cup that was not far away from his hand, and then continued to immerse himself in the sentence he was writing. It is worth noting that the script he wrote was not the common script of the continent, but a kind of square script similar to that from the ancient East, which looked very strange.

"May 1899, weather: blizzard

From today onwards, I intend to write something every day if I can. I haven't used Chinese characters for a long time, and there is a very clear strangeness when I hold a pen to write, of course, this may also be the reason why charcoal is really not easy to use, and then to the civilized society, I must buy a fountain pen, although it stands to reason that the fountain pen in this era is more backward and troublesome than the world I was originally in, but at least it is much better than charcoal.

It's been a year since I came to this world, and I can't say that much has happened in this year, after all, I've only been on a small farm in the snow and ice for a year. Speaking of which, I can't help but want to express my gratitude to the owners of that little farm, the Adlers, who would have frozen to death in this white barren mountain a year ago.

Life at Adler's Ranch was boring, but it was fulfilling, and with the help of Mr. Jack, the boss and teacher, I believe that I have at least become a qualified pastor, but I still prefer to hunt with Ms. Sadie in the nearby mountains rather than doing odd jobs on the ranch, and I admire Ms. Sadie's marksmanship, but even more so her bravery and strength, and it is no exaggeration to say that they taught me certain skills that I should have when living in this still wild country, It was these skills that helped me get here alive even though I got lost in the snowstorm, and I still have the strength to write this in the language of my hometown.

I still don't know why I ended up in this Wild West, I just remember being in my bedroom playing Red Dead Redemption 2 online. At the time, my wagon was only 0.01 blocks from the finish line, and with just another 0.01 seconds of shift, I could score another 650 dollars, and who would have thought that a sudden thunderclap outside would blacken everything in my room that would be shiny - and probably myself, I'm not sure. Anyway, when I woke up again, I was lying in the Adler couple's house, and my whole body was now blonde and green-eyed. One thing to say, the change in appearance really made me get used to it for a long time, but I am still very satisfied with the height of this body, at least much stronger than my previous five-short body.

Once I had determined where I was and the exact time, I began to count the days, after all, although I never paid attention to the specific month and day in the online mode, I did remember that the Van der Linde gang would be coming to the Coulter Village in May 1899, so at the end of April, I said goodbye to the Adlers and prepared to go to the Coulter Village in advance to wait for their arrival.

I knew the end of Mr. Jack, so I tried to persuade them to move to a warmer place to the south, at least there, where the young couple could live comfortably, but how to put it, Mr. Jack seemed to have some inexplicable feelings for this snowy mountain where birds don't, and no matter how much I persuaded him, it didn't make him change his mind. The legend of the Valkyrie of the West is a docile kitten in front of her husband, completely lacking in the murderous and sharp spirit she shoots at the Skinning Brothers, and she has always been obedient to her men. I had no choice but to tell them like a broken old lady to be careful of strangers before leaving, and to give priority to saving their lives if something happened, until they were bored with me. I don't know if this will save Mr. Jack's life, and many things will end up being a matter of resignation.

If you use the language of the game to narrate,It's until then,I can be regarded as having finished the cutscene of the plot animation,Really start to operate the characters yourself,But in fact,Reality is far more difficult than the game,At least,You can open the map UI in the game,Can cut the third person,There is always a small dot on your screen to help you aim,Open the map,You can not only immediately see where you are,You can also immediately plan a safe route to the destination,And without the assistance of these systems,This is called Red Dead Redemption 2: Redemption - Earth OL Remastered can be said to have dramatically increased the level of immersion and realism while exponentially increasing in difficulty. Not to mention that now I am only a mortal body, and if I am not careful, I will be knocked down by an inexplicable illness.

I've always had great trust in the level of medical care in the game.,In the past, there was Los Santos Hospital, even if it turned to ashes, as long as the account had money, it could resurrect full blood.,Later, there was the Great West except for tuberculosis, no matter what the problem was, a bottle of medicine could be full of blood.,But in the real West.,People are like machines that work hard in the absence of maintenance measures.,Which part goes wrong is a big problem.。

Even though I was very careful, I made the fatal mistake of getting lost at the beginning. Even though the map that the Adlers had given me was very detailed, I still had to go in the wrong direction, and I had to go around the snowy mountains for a long time to find the right way, and now I feel stupid when I think about it, God knows how I got here on two legs in the mountains, and now I can only rejoice that I am not the same as the Morion people I found on the Hagen Mountain. By the way,I took his helmet away.,I remember that this thing in the game can be head-proof.,I don't know if it's true.,Although I don't want to try it.,Originally, his set of armor I also wanted to take away.,But that thing is too heavy.,In this kind of freezing weather.,Whether it's carrying this set of armor or wearing this set of armor, you can't escape the end of freezing to death and exhaustion.,Even so,I still fought with my inner collector's habit before I decided to give up.,I can only roughly mark the location on the map.,If you have a chance in the future., I will go again.

If I had the privilege of being seen by someone else, then I think readers would have asked me why I didn't ride a horse. All I can say is that I did ride a horse when I first came out, and Mr. Jack lent me his own horse very generously, and after this trusty chestnut Morgan accompanied me for a long and unjust journey, we were tragically attacked by wolves, and it was clear that I was the only one who survived. I don't want to think about him being eaten, so I'll leave this topic at that.

You may be curious, who is this Germanic man (maybe a Nordic, who knows, anyway, I don't know anything about the past of this body) who holds a charcoal pen and writes a bunch of verbose words in Chinese Simplified Chinese that does not belong to this era, in fact, to be honest, I don't know, not to mention that I don't know anything about the past of this body, I also wonder why as a soul piercer I don't have the original memory of this body, maybe because this person himself has been dead for a long time, in fact, to be honest, I don't know, not to mention that I don't know anything about the past of this body, Even for the memories of my previous life, I already have a lot of vague places. My current name, Brandi Munney, is my own, and it feels like the seven-year-old Grim Reaper in Japan, and I guess I'll probably give myself a lot of names in the future, but I think it's a good idea to have that name as my real name in this world.

It may be that I haven't written kanji for a long time, or it may be that I haven't spoken normally for too long, but this time I wrote a little more, but it doesn't hurt, after all, it's not just about today. I don't know if I'll be able to keep this habit alive, and although I'm a lot more diligent than I used to be, I'm still lazy in many ways, to be honest. ”

After writing so many words in one breath, Brandi Munney finally stopped writing, looked at the charcoal pen in his hand that was almost bald, and shook his head and smiled bitterly: "It seems that I don't know when the next time I write a diary." ”

The fire burned and crackled. Outside the door, the wind and snow did not stop, and the whimpering did not stop.