Codename: Freedom: Survive Week One

by Apollos Thorne

  I immediately rebuked myself for my sweaty-palmed reaction when spotting her.

  When she first went pro she had to face off against one of the world’s best male players. She flirted with him, causing him to lose. Okay, flirting was an understatement. It was excessive flirting that caused the guy to melt like warm butter. She crushed him and mocked him extensively. His career was never able to recover from it.

  Folding my arms, I stood back and watched. Joining them might have its benefits. Guest appearances were always welcome and my fans were probably enjoying the surprise. I couldn’t allow my channel to become about who I hung out with instead of what I achieved. Instead of a gamer, I would turn into a commentator, or worse, a groupie. Commentators were respectable enough and experts in their own right. That just wasn’t for me. But groupies were just famous by association, not because of their own merits.

  They were my competition. If I outplayed them, and people saw it, my fan count would surge wildly. It was likely they had millions of people watching them right now.

  Following their gaze, I saw a lone player marching up to a boar as tall as a large dog. Someone had beaten me to the first enemy.

  The bronze hatchet he gripped seemed rather small. Thick cotton would be the only protection he had against the boar if things went wrong. With a strong build, he was definitely an athlete.

  This would be a good test of the game’s artificial intelligence and difficulty. Newbie monster or not, learning as much about Freedom as possible was essential.

  He paced toward the boar, building tempo. His forearm bulged.

  Turning to meet him, the boar backed up with a snort. It faced off with the player, its tusks at the ready.

  Pulling the hatchet over his head, the man attacked first in a big, downward swing, connecting sickly on the back of its neck.

  I cringed at the terrified screech.

  The player relaxed his grip.

  What? Is he stupid?

  The boar charged forward, easily lifting the player onto its back. It had no problem carrying his weight as it jerked its tusks back and forth.

  My gut wrecked. His legs were being torn apart.

  Everything about the situation was wrong. New player towns always had easy creatures to introduce players to the world. I knew as I watched, this common feature had been completely tossed out by the Freedom developers. Someone was having fun at our expense. This boar possessed the same strength and ferocity as its real life counterpart.

  There was no damage indication that mentioned how many HP he was losing. That wasn’t a big surprise. I guessed I would have to be in someone’s group to get any feedback from the game system as to how much damage was being done.

  “Come on! Let’s help him!” A voice rumbled from the crowd. A short black guy with massive shoulders shot out from the group toward the player. His bronze studded club looked much more durable than the losing player’s hatchet.

  Aroused from the shock of the moment, I hurried after him, spurred on by the realization there was no pain limiter.

  The attacking player was tossed from the boar's back, landing motionless. Only the sound of us sprinting towards it had stopped the beast from turning back to tear into him anew.

  Despite the head start, I had nearly caught up to the man who had rallied everyone to help.

  Realizing that the boar’s size and strength matched real-world physics, I rounded my approach. How would I fight a huge boar in real life? Seriously?! With drones or an exoskeleton. Never with a pointy bronze stick.

  In Virtual Reality, it was common for game developers to take liberty with exaggerating a monster’s size and look, even if it wasn’t a difficult creature. This beast really didn’t look that impressive compared to creatures common to games, but we weren’t fighting an average game monster. This was more accurately a simulation of what it would be like to face a 300 lb boar in real life.

  If I was logged in using normal virtual reality that linked directly to my mind, this would have been easy. Even with a low-level character, I would have made short work of it. Controlling a game character with your mind is completely different than controlling it with your own body. I wasn’t coordinated enough to have the confidence to face it one on one.

  The boar had completely forgotten its first target. It charged our way. Blood streamed from the wound on its neck. It didn’t slow down.

  As we neared its charge, it was on course for the man in front of me. I slowed my pace to attack from the flank as soon as they met, hoping to relieve him if he got into trouble.

  There was no slowing by the athletic black man in the lead. His pace was too fast. I had a bad feeling the boar was about to have a second victim.

  The man stopped suddenly, the quad muscles of his leg bulging. He danced to the side and twisted his torso, clobbering the boar as it passed. There was an ugly jerk of the boar’s body from the impact to its ribs.

  That did not go how I expected. His blow staggered the beast momentarily, batting it to the side, but it kept going.

  I struggled to stop. The beast was now passing me by. My plan had taken me out of its path. Turning, it was time to play catch up.

  It now headed for the rest of the players who had followed behind me.

  Vector, Treetop, and Drool were grouped together. Facing it head on, Vector stood his ground, ready to lunge forward with his sword. The other two had swords drawn at either side, making a human wall.

  The blade shot forward. His aim was true. As if running into a twig, the boar pummeled through the attack and then leveled all three of them. With a snap, I heard Vector’s leg break at the shin. His other leg flew up and hit Treetop in the back of the head.

  Drool was the only one that remained unscathed. She had jumped back as Vector had collided with her, blunting most of the damage.

  I pocketed my empathy for Vector, remembering my purpose. If I could somehow give a better showing, I would certainly win some followers.

  The next player that faced the boar was another gamer. He just jumped out of the way. Not exactly brave, but he wasn’t stupid either.

  With another four players spread out before it, no one was quick to attack it head on. They poked at it from a distance while it was torn on who to attack. It had started to tire.

  There was no standout moment from them, but the challenge the four athletes gave it left the gamers embarrassed.

  Its pace slowed further. Battle exhaustion was taking over.

  This was my chance. Finally catching up from the rear, I planted my foot and lunged. Its hide was thick, only allowing my sword to sink three inches deep into its flank.

  The annoying squeal came again. It turned to face me, but I had already bounded back, trying my best to do something that resembled fencing. Virtual gaming was no substitute for real experience and muscle memory. All of the gamers were experiencing this same problem. We felt clumsy.

  That didn’t lessen the elation I felt. Regardless of the thousands of hours I had spent in virtual games, I felt as if I was wielding a sword for the first time. Who would have thought something like lack of coordination would do so much to emphasize realism.

  Every player still standing fell upon the boar. The four athletes were the first to take advantage. Blades rose and fell. Drool was soon stabbing at it. Treetop joined in. As skinny as he was, he used his full height to land a frightening two-handed blow to its back with his sword.

  There was nothing left for me to do.

  Over a minute later the last blow was leveled on the beast that had probably died long before. It lay in a heap of wounds.

  Well, there went any doubt as to the level of realism in Freedom. It was rather frustrating admitting it had taken an entire gang of high-level athletes and gamers to kill a single boar.

  Checking my viewer's log was more difficult than I was used to. I had to bring up my main menu then scroll two screens to get to it. It was not designed to remain open. With a few gestures, I found over 12 million people were joint
-viewing us.

  My mouth dropped.

  Over five hundred thousand people… were watching me.

  I shook my head to regain my composure. If I wasn’t careful Drool might think her looks had ensnared another guy.

  It wasn’t necessary to upload the scene to my channel. The AI automatically did that for me, pinpointing my highlights for the day. Vent, my channel manager, would make sure a video was put together if something important was missed. I just had to worry about the selfies I wanted to share.

  There was no time to celebrate. The customary few seconds of pain that games allowed had already passed. Groans continued.

  At first, I stood there, unsure what to do.

  Vector was making most of the noise due to his broken leg. Trying to help while holding his side, Treetop was obviously in pain himself. Everyone else ran to them. I passed him up and found the man who had been shredded by the boar.

  Jogging over to him, he lay in a motionless heap on the ground. I still couldn’t see his Health Bar and the amount of HP he had left. It was only when I neared that I heard his low moan. He was alive.

  His legs from the knee down had been so lacerated that I couldn’t recognize them. The bloody scene was too realistic to believe. It wasn’t that there was a lot of blood, but that the blood and gore I saw before me was… accurate.

  There didn’t seem to be the traditional numerical system that simulated the damage done by the boar and subtracted it from his total health points. How the health bar was calculated I wasn’t sure. It was like the system perfectly interpreted the boar’s attacks and inflicted the wounds on the man’s anatomy with the same precision. It was more common for a game to overemphasize violence for effect. Without that emphasis, it was more shocking.

  My own nausea protested the sight before me. Closing my eyes, I breathed deeply and shook off the feeling.

  This man was experiencing the fullness of the pain accompanying his wounds. Despite my pity, and desire to help, what could I do?

  The club-wielding black man that had rallied us to help joined me. He had a full goatee and the grimace of an older man in his forties. Most of the players I had heard of through the media were all in their early twenties to mid-thirties. It was rarer to see teenagers like Drool and I. It was even rarer to see someone who I guessed was in their mid-forties.

  Kneeling down, he forced open one of the man’s eyelids.

  “Well, he hasn’t gone into shock.”

  “What can I do?” I asked.

  He shrugged.

  It wasn’t exactly abnormal for athletes to compete in their forties. With modern medicine, it was even possible for someone to compete at the highest levels into their eighties. The drive to compete was more common in younger men and women though.

  We tried the typical things that would commonly heal a person in a game. Food and water had no effect. If there was something available in town to help with healing, no one here would know about it.

  Cleaning and bandaging the wounds to stop the bleeding was all that we could do.

  New faces started to pass by as more players were leaving town. Even though many were kind enough to stop, no passerby had heard anything about how to heal either. We were about to send someone to town to check when Treetop spoke up.

  “I think I’m better.”

  He was motioning to his ribs. Wait. Regeneration? Or was there actually a time limit to the pain?

  Before everyone’s eyes, about a half an hour after the fight, Vector’s leg did something we believed impossible. His leg literally reset itself with a loud pop.

  Treetop screamed.

  Giving him a jab to the gut, Drool rebuked him for his lack of manliness, but her heart wasn’t in it.

  Despite his pain, Vector was soon chuckling hysterically.

  Though it would be another five minutes before Treetop and Drool helped him limp back to town, it was an amazing discovery. Freedom allowed us to regenerate, even if it was a much slower recovery than what we were used to.

  There was hope for the man that had been left shredded.

  When I saw his legs starting to recover, I started to look for an excuse to leave. There were plenty of people here, and there was nothing anyone could do to help but wait. Time was not something I had the liberty to waste.

  I doubted I would have much trouble joining up with Vector now. I might even be one step ahead of them athletically, so my odds of becoming a groupie were slight. But there was another option.

  As the black guy got to his feet, I offered my hand. "I'm Lucius."

  “Kline.”

  “Would you be interested in grouping up?”

  Kline had been the most impressive player out of everyone. I wasn’t proud enough to pass joining him if he was willing. If my gut was right, joining him was the smartest route to take.

  His brow creased as he considered my question. Looking from the group of players recovering to those streaming out of the city gate, he rolled his shoulders. “Sure."

  When I tried to recruit the rest of those that had fought the boar, a few insisted on staying and the rest went to town. We were on our own.

  There were only a few players left to look after the man as he healed. I had waited until the others had started towards town before I made my move.

  “One thing we need to do before we leave.”

  Quickly I knelt down and examined the boar we had killed. As I had hoped, a new popup window shot up.

  You have discovered the Looting system!

  I balled my fists, trying to hold back my excitement.

  There was actually a looting system, inventory and all. A gridded window popped up. The beast had dropped a pigtail, 360 lbs. of pork, and two tusks. Thankfully the athletes didn't even think to check. The other gamers hadn't helped so it was bad form for them to request any loot. Gamer fail! It was still foolish of them to have not even examined the boar.

  Of the pork, I took about 80 lbs. and a tusk. It was more than my fair share, but as one of the first to rush to help, I could make an argument that I deserved it. No one was there to complain anyways.

  It would be a real newbie move not to move my gear into my inventory. I could currently carry one hundred pounds in total. The gridded window was used to organize my inventory. Taking my backpack off, I was able to place it inside and it took up a single slot. As I placed the meat and the tusk inside, they took up a single slot each. With only thirty slots, it would be wise to utilize containers like my backpack as much as I could to save space. This didn’t change the 100 lbs. limit though.

  With everything in my inventory, I felt none of the previous weight I had been carrying on my back. After all the talk about the gaming system being based on military grade mixed reality and real technology, how did they explain away this?

  Chapter 5 – Hunting with Kline

  Kline and I split up to sell quickly at the market before continuing into the forest. If at all possible I wanted to try and purchase a better weapon before we got started again.

  Already there were hundreds of players crowding the main street. It was wide enough to have cart after cart lining either side. These merchants had their goods laid out on top of their carts and some had extra tables with goods. Near the city gate, there were even carts in the middle of the road, splitting this wider section in two. The actual businesses with buildings behind the row of carts had signs hanging over the crowd above their doorway. Plenty of room was given so that there was a way in and out.

  I found a merchant within the first block of the village gate. A stern looking woman with a pale green bonnet and an apron over her azure dress had an item crowded cart. It had a variety of weapons, armor, preserved food, and beverages. Her cart was made of wood with large spoke wheels and a thick board fastened over the wagon bed underneath. She had a donkey tied up behind her against a log building. The cart was far too heavy for her to handle alone.

  Noticing me, she didn’t leave the side of her cart as she hollered much louder t
han necessary for me to hear.

  “Hey son! In the market to buy or sell? April will treat you fair!”

  “Both,” I replied, probably too low for her to hear and walked up to her cart. Might as well price things with her while I was here.

  “Let’s see what you got.”

  Opening my inventory, I was looking for…

  “The trade button is on the bottom.”

  Here. I clicked the raised chrome text where she said it would be.

  My 80 lbs. of raw pork and the tusk sold for 3 silver and 38 copper. It left me with 4 silver and 38 copper in total.

  “Take a look and I’ll give you your coin after you are finished shopping.”

  She was a thrifty little merchant.

  There were other places for fresh food, but there seemed to be no weapon or armor specialty shops nearby.

  April had little paper tags tied with string onto each piece of merchandise. Scanning through the equipment I found my 4 silver was actually a good deal of money for so early in the game. It compared pretty well to the prices from the tutorial.

  All of the weapons were laid out on a thick, stained wool blanket. With 4 silver I could easily afford a rough quality item in the bronze category like a short sword, ax or spear. It was equivalent to what I had gotten during the tutorial.

  This is more like it. I grabbed a bronze spear that would be more useful for a situation against a creature like the boar. Then I found a round wooden shield that had been leaning on the side of her cart. Just to be safe, I bought some hard biscuits and two jugs of water.

  She had armor laid out, but I didn’t bother with it yet. Everything was leather-based, so finding a breastplate or chainmail was a ways off.

  As I left with a little more than 1 silver in my pouch April called out abnormally loud like before. “Discounts for return customers!”

  I decided I liked her.

  ***

  It was another five minutes before Kline and I found each other. He had upgraded his club and was now wielding a bronze woodcutter's ax. Besides being more expensive it was also a two-handed ax and not the tiny hatchets that had been available until now.