Life Reset: Human Resource (New Era Online Book 4)

by Shemer Kuznits

  “Shit!” I banged the wall.

  “Calm down,” he said. “There’s nothing we can do about it now. It’s better to use the time to eat something and freshen up. Be ready to log in as soon as you get approval. I don’t think I need to remind you of the tubing option, right?”

  I sighed. “No. Damn, alright.”

  We walked to the company’s cafeteria. A few early kitchen workers were present and freshly brewed coffee was already available.

  I gobbled up some scrambled eggs with bagels and cream cheese, hardly noticing the taste. Compared to Gandork’s cooking, this meal was nothing special. Tal tried chatting me up, but my mind was still too preoccupied with the recent battle and the possible consequences to follow him closely.

  After what seemed like an eternity, Tal glanced up at the clock. “It’s almost time; you want to swing by the bathroom first?”

  I shook my head. “Let’s just get there.”

  We took the elevator to the higher floor. We were the first ones in the conference room.

  I rapped my fingers impatiently on the desk while Tal tried not to appear too concerned. I would have felt bad about making my best friend worried, but I had worries of my own. I needed to get back there as soon as possible.

  A few minutes later, people started to arrive. Mr. Goldbloom, my lawyer, was the first to come in, shaking my hand before sitting down. Jim, the head technician came next, followed lastly by Mr. Emery.

  I narrowed my eyes as I watched the oily lawyer calmly take his seat. “Good morning, gentlemen. We have several topics to go over. We’ll begin by–”

  “I need to get back into the game,” I interrupted him. “Right. Now.”

  Everyone stared at me.

  “You brought me out at a critical moment,” I said, trying my best not to raise my voice. I knew shouting and losing my temper wouldn’t get me what I needed. “My forces and all the players are sitting ducks, exposed to an attack from an enemy stronghold. They’re in danger. I have to get back there. Now.”

  “That is a cause for concern,” Mr. Emery said. “In that case, I agree we should postpone most of our planned agenda for a later time and concentrate on the crucial issues.”

  “What’s more crucial than saving the players?” I had to clench my fists to stop myself from raising my voice.

  “Your health and sanity,” Jim said, looking straight into my eyes.

  I looked at Tal. “What the hell is he talking about?”

  “Please hear him out,” my lawyer said. “I went over the nightly report on the way over here, and I’m concerned.”

  Tal nodded at me. “Let Jim speak.”

  The head technician coughed. “In light of the urgency, I’ll make it brief. Oren, to put it simply, you’re showing some disturbing signs.”

  I frowned at him. “Like what?”

  “Your CCP has reached your previous maximum threshold of 99 percent. Your brain is fully open to the game in a way that makes it impossible for you to distinguish it from real life. Your brain scans show elevated values in all cognitive-related systems. In short, we fear you’re slowly losing your sense of identity to your goblin persona.”

  “You said the game doesn’t mess with my mind.”

  “It doesn’t. Not directly. But the ‘reality’ you experience is so real your mind is gradually making the transition on its own.”

  “I’m still me,” I declared. “Even inside the game. I know who I am.”

  Wordlessly, Jim raised a remote and pressed a button. “This was taken from our security cameras an hour ago.”

  A mounted screen flickered to life, showing the immersion lab. A technician in a white lab coat was opening an immersion capsule, revealing my unconscious form. Nothing happened for a few seconds. Then the tech guy touched my shoulder, and my eyes flew open. I grabbed the frightened man by the front of his shirt, bringing his neck centimeters from my exposed teeth.

  I watched the screen in shock. I had no memory of ever doing that.

  Luckily, the technician wriggled free of the hold before I could bite him.

  Jim pressed another button, freezing the picture. “I think you can see what we’re worried about.”

  “That was just …” I shook my head. “Okay, that’s bad. I didn’t mean to do that. But I’m still me. It might have taken me a few moments, but I’m back in control.”

  Tal put a hand on my shoulder. “Bro, look at your hands.”

  I looked down. My hands were clasped so tightly around the table’s edges that my fingernails splintered as they dug into the hardwood. I let go, feeling a sudden surge of hopelessness. “Okay, I get it. It’s not good, but it doesn’t matter. There are thousands of players stuck inside the game who are much worse than me. I’m the only one who can try to help them.”

  “The difference,” Mr. Emery said calmly, “is that the company bears direct responsibility for your current condition. What we do here is highly experimental, and as ironic as it may sound, from a legal standpoint, any harm that comes to you under our care will cause significantly more damage to the company than those trapped inside.”

  “How the hell is that even logical?” I asked in frustration.

  Nachum said, “The army, and by association, the government, supported the company’s full-immersion experiment, so they bear a blowback over the trapped players. But acting on their own now, any harm coming to you will only aggravate the company’s already precarious situation.”

  “I’ll sign a waiver then,” I said. “I gotta get back there. We’re wasting time.”

  Mr. Emery shook his head. “You can’t legally accept a proven harmful action. It’s the same reason supporting suicide attempts, even for the terminally ill, is illegal.”

  “I have to get back there!” I said in frustration.

  Jim, Nachum, and Mr. Emery exchanged knowing looks, and to my surprise, they all looked at Tal.

  My friend sighed. “Alright, send him in.”

  To my even greater surprise, the head technician and the oily lawyer nodded.

  “Very well,” Jim said. “Let’s go.”

  “Just like that?” I asked, staring at my best friend.

  “I don’t like it,” Tal said, “but bigger things are going on here.” He hesitated, glancing at the others. “Things that you’re better off not knowing right now. I’m not thrilled about keeping you in the dark, but the others convinced me it’s for your own good. If we tell you now, it will be extra weight on your shoulders you don’t need right now. It might even jeopardize your progress in the game.”

  “As your legal custodian, we’ve all agreed to follow Mr. Wiseman’s decision,” Mr. Emery said. “We all know what’s at stake, and so, despite the possible repercussions, we’re prepared to see it through.” He gave me a grave look. “I wish you luck, Mr. Berman. The future of more than the trapped players lies in your capable hands.”

  26 - Round Two

  I materialized back into NEO next to the makeshift war camp we’d built. It was noon when I’d left, but now it was dark.

  There was no one around.

 

  “Where is everyone, Vic?”

  Vicloak billowed, ‘pointing’ toward the border.

  I walked at a quick pace, passing through the thin mist until the flat plateau opened before me.

  My army was positioned before Novenguard’s walls, far enough to be out of range of their longbowmen. Six Ogres with catapults strapped to their backs were standing at the front of the army, occasionally sending stones flying to crash against the town’s walls.

  The army parted as I drew near, and a welcome party consisting of my squad leaders and Bob approached.

  “Chief, you’re back,” Bob said with obvious relief.

  “Couldn’t have picked a better time to go out for a stroll, could ya?” Cron asked sharply.

  “What’s going on?” I asked. Then my eyes widened when I caught a glimpse of the ground betw
een my army and the city walls. It was covered with thousands of foblin corpses.

  “We didn’t know when you’d be back,” Sullivan said. “Once we launched the first phase, we had a narrow time frame to execute the rest of the plan with as little resistance as possible. So we decided to proceed without you.”

  “Damn.” I stared at the carpet of dead foblins leading all the way to the city walls. “I’m sorry, guys. I did everything I could to get back as soon as I could. How long was I out?”

  “Two days,” Cron said gruffly. “We started phase two of the plan, keeping up the pressure on the front walls, as you can see.” He pointed at the corpses. “But we couldn’t proceed without you. So the city used the reprieve and mobilized its citizens. Their army got a boost of about a thousand new recruits.”

  “Shadow-crap –. I’m sorry, guys,” I said again.

  “We knew there was a strong possibility for that to happen,” Sullivan said. “It doesn’t affect the plan as a whole.”

  “Yeah, it just makes things a whole lot more difficult,” Cron grumbled.

  “On the bright side,” Malkyr said, “three more siege weapons and some soldiers arrived.” He pointed at the Ogres launching rocks from their mounted catapults. “We already took aim and are ready to continue on to the next phase.”

  “Were there any counterattacks?” I asked.

  The players looked at each other with grim faces.

  “What?”

  “Just that Ragnar guy,” Kyth said, shaking his head. “He respawned inside the city and came out on his own. I’m sorry to say we fell to his deception.”

  “What happened?” I asked with growing concern.

  “He approached us carrying a white flag,” the gnomblin explained. “We allowed him to come close, hoping that without your presence we’d be able to reason with him …”

  “He’d gained five levels since our first battle,” Hoshisu continued. “He pretended to hear us out, then he just charged on a group of Ogres and activated that light attack again.”

  “Shadow-crap,” I muttered again.

  The white-haired woman nodded. “The army attacked and killed him, but he probably gained a few more levels from that suicide attack. He tried approaching us two more times, but we took him down from a distance each time. We need to be careful going forward. When the full battle breaks out, he can move in and take out full squads on his own – and become stronger along the way.”

  “We need to disable him,” I said. “We can’t let him keep respawning in town and gaining strength by attacking us. What about the slain troops?”

  “I’ve already recalled them, Chief,” my general responded.

  “Good.” At least I’d had the foresight of granting Bob authorization to resurrect slain troops. “So what now?”

  “Phase two is complete,” Sullivan said. “Novenguard is now convinced we’re planning on continuing frontal assaults and has concentrated the majority of their forces on the front walls. We have about two hours until daylight; it should be just enough to execute phase three.”

  I cracked my neck. “Let’s do it.”

  ***

  I stood next to an oddly shaped catapult. It was larger than the others and was mounted on the ground. Instead of the bucket meant to hold the launched payload, it had a flat, perforated pad that mostly looked like a giant spatula.

  About a hundred foblins, all that was left from the initial 3,500, were standing next to me. Up ahead, 200 of our highest level hob tanks were clustered closely together, their shields locked above their heads as they stood just outside bow range in front of the town walls. Small moving shadows darted around at their feet.

  Bob said, “You may begin, Chief.”

  I removed a chalice with heatless green flames from my inventory. “You know, I do prefer you addressing me as Chief over Dire Totem.”

  The general grinned. “It’s less of a mouthful. More efficient.”

  I returned his grin. “Now you get why I keep calling you Bob.”

  “Hmm, I guess I do.” We shared a chuckle, and I felt some of the pre-battle tension leave me. I raised a hand, calling for the shadows as I cast Dark Protection over the armored attack group. My mana dropped by 3,000 MP, about two-thirds of my total. Then I ordered the first two foblins to hop onto the goblinaucher. “Ready on your command, General.” Timing was crucial for this phase.

  “Now.”

  Taking out the Chalice of Infernal Energies, I used my dagger to cut shallow lines on the foblins’ palms and let their blood drip into it. The green flames flared before I made the foblins drink the chaotic concoction. They started to change, becoming bigger, growing hooves, horns, and spikes randomly all over their bodies.

  “Launch!”

  The goblinaucher discharged, sending two infernal-infused killing machines over the town’s walls.

  Despite the distance, the foblins didn’t die on impact. Some magic intertwined within the war machine’s design allowed them to land safely on the other side. It couldn’t, however, counteract the damage from the forest of steel and arrows that met them on the other side.

  Two muffled ‘booms’ sounded from across the wall as the slain foblins exploded. I could feel a faint surge of XP being distributed among the rest of my army as the explosion took some of the enemy’s troops with them.

  I motioned for the next two foblins to hop on and repeated the process.

  While I kept launching exploding foblins, the tank platoon started to advance. As they entered the town’s kill zone, hundreds of arrows started raining down on them. Two exploding foblins every few seconds weren’t nearly enough to overextend their forces. The buff I’d cast over my soldiers helped mitigate some of the damage but not nearly enough to soak up all of it. The tanks started taking casualties, and more and more hobs collapsed as they approached the town gate, leaving gaps in their steel canopy.

  I gritted my teeth at the death toll. I knew it was temporary, but we were paying a heavy price for something that was merely a prelude to the real engagement.

  I’d nearly exhausted my foblin supply when the soldiers arrived within striking distance of the gates.

  “Switch, now!” Bob shouted.

  I waved off the next foblin in line and instead reached for my inventory. I upturned the pouch, pouring the cannonball-shaped pieces onto the platform.

  ***

  “Report!” the officer guard barked at an out-of-breath messenger.

  “Sir! The recruits are holding up against the flying goblins, but the damn things explode when killed. We’ve already lost 50 civilians and sustained some structural damage. Lieutenant Raskin asks for heavy infantry to intercept them instead.”

  The officer shook his head. “We have a large force of hobs approaching the gate. I don’t know what these monsters are planning, but they’re more cunning than we ever anticipated. I need all able men reinforcing the gates in case they somehow break through.”

  “But sir–”

  “You have your orders, Corporal. Report back to Lieutenant Raskin.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The runner took just two steps before something heavy and pink flashed by, and he dropped.

  The officer blinked at the fallen man. A pink sphere had crushed his head, grotesquely replacing it with a metallic one. “What the hell is going on here?”

  More pink metal spheres fell, impacting walls, the ground, and in some cases, people. The pink rain continued for several moments before it stopped. Luckily, the weird balls weren’t aimed at the walls, so the lines of archers were free to continue harassing the approaching hobgoblin force.

  “Look out!” A soldier ran at the officer, pushing him out of the way.

  An especially large and hollow sphere impacted the ground where the officer had just stood, leaving a surprisingly small amount of damage on the cobbled floor.

  “Thanks,” the officer grunted at the soldier who had probably just saved his life.

  “Seems like you ‘ave yours
elf a bit of a pest problem,” a mocking voice said.

  The officer turned and scowled. “What do you want, traveler?”

  “Me?” The armored dwarf drew out a crystal rod. “I’m just here to apply some pesticide, Chief.”

  The officer gazed sternly at him. “Take your place along with the guards holding the gate then.”

  The dwarf grinned evilly. “Aye aye, Captain.”

  “Uh, sir …” the soldier who had just saved the officer said hesitantly.

  Both the officer and the dwarf looked around. The large sphere was slowly rolling on its own, and dozens of smaller ones were moving as well, streaming out of streets and alleyways toward it.

  The dwarf stared as the golem steadily rose to its full height, towering over the nearby soldiers. “Now that’s something you don’t see every day.”

  ***

  With the catapults all working together, we finished launching the golem beads over the walls. Thanks to the players’ early preparation of finding the correct distance and angle, we delivered all of the beads to roughly the same location behind the town’s gate. Aidanriel’s core was launched last via the goblinaucher to make sure it wouldn’t be damaged from the impact, though the hardness of the material made that a remote possibility.

  With our part done, all that was left was to stand and watch.

  About half of the tank battalion was down. The remaining survivors closed ranks, locking their shields together above their heads as volleys of arrows clanged on top of them. I was certain that without their Shield Wall ability, their losses would have been even greater. I watched with concern as more hobs fell with every step. They were almost at the gate, but they couldn’t last much longer.

  Working together, Bob and Sullivan timed it perfectly.

  A tentacle made of rolling beads punched through the heavy gates just as the hobs arrived. Three more limbs punched through the heavy crossbar, reducing it to splinters, and the gate doors flew open.

  Aidanriel’s form became fully visible. The three-meter tall golem was surrounded by a sea of soldiers who hacked at it with axes and heavy clubs, while over a hundred archers rained arrows at it from the walls. Aidanriel was taking damage every second, but his high level coupled with his innate resilience meant he could last for a good while. And he wasn’t just standing idle either.