Since its release in 2020, Fantasy Impact has led the slow but inevitable rise of gacha games, eventually taking the world by storm.
Unlike its predecessors, Fantasy Impact wasn't just another mobile RPG—it was a revolution. An open-world adventure that captivated millions, drawing players in with its stunning visuals, mesmerizing soundtrack, and, most notably, its breathtakingly designed characters.
The game offered a dazzling lineup of waifus, each more alluring than the last. But what made it truly remarkable was how it transcended its niche audience.
It wasn't just diehard otakus pulling for their dream characters—everyone got sucked in.
Casual gamers. Anime skeptics. Even people who had never touched a gacha game before found themselves knee-deep in artifact builds and tier lists, wondering how they got there.
Now, it's 2024.
Four years have passed, and despite an onslaught of so-called "Fantasy Impact killers"—each one hyped as the game that would finally dethrone it—the original king still reigns supreme.
Highest concurrent players.
Unrivaled revenue.
A legacy untouched.
The competition is fierce, but Fantasy Impact has something special—something that keeps players like me coming back, even after all this time.
I've been a loyal fan since day one.
These days, thanks to the global recession, I've gone full free-to-play mode.
No more whaling for me—just a humble shirmp, no, a plankton, swimming in the gacha seas.
But I'm still having a blast. There's just something about this game that keeps me coming back, like a moth to a flame… or a cat to a laser pointer.
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"Whoa, dude, how many Fate Gems do you even have? You're not rolling for LingXi?!"
Mark stares at the screen of my ancient smartphone like it holds the secrets of the universe. If he drools on it, I'm making him buy me a new one.
Mark—my 25-year-old gym buddy and fellow gacha addict—is the guy I convinced to try Fantasy Impact a while back. Big mistake.
Now, he's more obsessed than I am.
Today, after our usual post-workout walk home, the conversation—as always—turns to the game. Because, really, what else would we talk about?
The weather?
Our soul-crushing chicken and broccoli diet?
The existential dread of adulthood?
Please.
Turns out, Mark just obliterated half his paycheck on LingXi, the game's newest character. Not only did he max her out, but he also snagged her exclusive weapon.
That's right.
Half his salary, gone in a flash.
But does he look regretful?
Nope. He's grinning like he just won the lottery.
Honestly? I get it.
LingXi is chef's kiss perfection—a fox goddess with, uh, generous proportions, a silky, ethereal voice, and DPS numbers that make other units look like tutorial mobs. She's the kind of character who can solo entire boss fights while looking fabulous doing it.
If I were still in my "spend-money-like-no-tomorrow" phase, I'd have rolled for one or two copies, maybe get the weapon too.
But times have changed.
Now, as a proud, disciplined, free-to-play player, I have to be smart with my resources. That means saving every last Fate Gem for the one waifu who truly matters.
Purraphina.
"Nope!" I say, shaking my head with a grin. "I told you, I'm saving for my wife, Purraphina!"
Mark sighs, shaking his head. "Catgirls over meta, huh?"
"You bet!" I reply, puffing out my chest like a man of conviction.
Purraphina is a limited S-rank character, and while she's not meta-breaking, I don't care.
She's adorable, sassy, and has a backstory that can emotionally wreck you in three sentences. Sure, she's a little noisy and constantly picking fights, but that's just part of her charm. She's impossible not to love.
But what really makes me fall head over heels for Purraphina?
One simple, undeniable fact.
She's a catgirl.
Not just any catgirl.
A tiny, loli catgirl who swings a giant iron sword like it's a toothpick!
She's an effortless badass. A feral little gremlin who outdamages full-grown warriors twice her size. And if that wasn't enough?
She purrs when you pat her head!
I mean, come on!
How am I supposed to resist that?!
From the moment I started playing, I made a sacred vow—I would collect every catgirl in the game, no matter what.
But Purraphina?
She's my holy grail.
I lost the 50/50 on her last banner, and honestly?
It hurt like crushed balls.
But this time?
I'm ready.
I've been hoarding Fate Gems for months, stockpiling like a doomsday prepper. I haven't pulled in two patches. The self-control it took to skip banner after banner? Nothing short of heroic.
But it's all worth it.
Because in just two weeks, her banner will drop.
And this time...
She's will be mine
——————————-
As we walk, our conversation drifts from one random topic to another, the city buzzing around us like a living, breathing entity. The sun dips lower, streaking the sky with molten gold and cotton-candy pink, bathing the world in a warm, honeyed glow. The distant hum of cars, the occasional honk, and the murmur of voices weave together into a familiar, almost magical backdrop.
And then—just as we reach an intersection—something catches my eye.
"…Wait… what? A cosplayer?"
Across the street, there she is.
A lone cosplayer, standing like she's waiting for someone—or something.
Oh. My. Gosh. She's stunning.
She wears a gothic black dress, equal parts cute and elegant, with pearl-white hair so luminous it looks like moonlight woven into silk. Her entire design is next-level—ethereal, mesmerizing, utterly jaw-dropping. And the best part? She's a catgirl.
My heart stutters, like it's trying to process the sheer awesomeness of what I'm seeing.
But… something's off.
I don't recognize her.
How is that even possible? A catgirl I don't know? That's like forgetting what pizza tastes like—it just doesn't happen.
Is she from a new game? Some obscure anime that flew under my radar? How could I have missed this? I'm supposed to be the catgirl connoisseur!
I turn to Mark, who's been ambling beside me, looking as clueless as ever.
"Mark, do you know who that catgirl is? What game or anime is she from?"
He blinks at me, baffled. "Huh? What catgirl? What are you talking about?"
I frown, jabbing my finger in her direction. "Her. The cosplayer. Right there."
Mark squints, following my gaze. "Dude… are you messing with me? There's no one there."
"…What?"
My breath catches. I whip my head back toward the street.
She's still there.
Standing. Clear as day.
The only person on that side of the road.
How can he not see her?
My mind kicks into overdrive, churning out theories at a breakneck pace.
Am I losing it?
"Bro, are you okay? You're not, like, hallucinating or something, right? Did you eat something weird?" Mark's voice dips into concern.
I blink rapidly, my pulse hammering. But no matter how many times I look, she's still there. Real. Tangible. Unmistakable.
Could it be… a hallucination?
Okay, sure, I used to be a stoner back in the day, but I left all that behind after college. I haven't touched anything in years. No way this is a drug flashback, right?
My heartbeat thrums like a drumroll. I see her. But Mark doesn't.
Is he the crazy one?
Or am I?
"Dude," Mark starts again, his voice softer now, "I really think you should see a doctor. I know a good psychiatrist I can refer you to—"
But before he can finish, something shifts.
The catgirl moves.
She steps off the curb.
A chill floods my veins.
She's crossing.
Why now?
Why isn't she looking at the cars?
She walks like she's in her own little world, detached, oblivious to the oncoming traffic.
And now—
A truck barrels toward her.
My blood turns to ice.
Time splinters.
She doesn't see it.
She doesn't see it.
I don't think. I just move.
Adrenaline surges through me, snapping me into motion. My legs propel me forward, my body running on pure instinct.
Hallucination? Schizophrenia? None of it matters.
Someone's about to die.
And I have to stop it.
But—
I'm not fast enough.
The truck hurtles forward, unstoppable.
And slams into us.
Pain—blinding, crushing, all-consuming—detonates through me. My body shatters like glass, nerves screaming as I'm tossed into oblivion.
And then…
Nothing.
Just a deep, endless void.