Pick a world. Make your first move.

Start with $10,000 and a burner phone. Buy and flip anything — real estate, cars, art, crypto, businesses, favors. Every deal has risk. Every contact has an angle. How dirty are you willing to play?

Three days dead. You wake up on a morgue slab in Busan with a System nobody else can see — amber text etched across your vision, a quest you didn't ask for, and a heartbeat you aren't supposed to have. Start at Tier 7, the bottom of the Hunter registry. Climb. Or disappear again.

Broke in Miami, rent due in seven days, 823 followers and a closet full of dupes. The only exit is fame. Rent a Lambo, film a morning routine, manifest a brand deal — just don't get exposed.

You inherited a dungeon. Now defend it from heroes, manage your monsters, and survive the paperwork. Reverse dungeon-crawler meets corporate comedy.

Your ship crashed on an alien world. Thirteen survivors, dwindling resources, and something watching from the treeline. Build a colony — or don't survive long enough to regret it.

Population 847 and dropping. You're the new mayor of a dying small town — fix infrastructure, attract businesses, manage the budget, and make the hard calls. Every decision has tradeoffs and the residents remember everything.