The First Player (AlterGame Book #1) LitRPG Series

by Andrew Novak

  Once inside the trailer, Jack looked around. It wasn't a mansion, of course, but the people living here weren't the poorest. At the far end, curtained off, was probably a kitchen. From there came the smell of roasted meat and the sound of a knife hitting a cutting board. When he entered, the knocking died down and a woman peered out from behind the curtain. There was a very hefty and sharp knife in her hand: the one she'd just been using to chop seasonings for the meat.

  "It's alright," the mustache told her, "this is who we were waiting for. Just like the master described."

  Master? Jack listened attentively.

  The woman nodded and went back behind the curtain. The knocking resumed.

  "Where's Egghead?" he repeated the question.

  "Come on," the mustached man nodded.

  He led Jack past the kitchen corner and moved part of the wall aside, revealing a dark corridor. Well, that was logical. The back wall of the trailer adjoined the ruins. That's where passage led. But the ruins were completely abandoned. Jack had definitely determined that while wandering around in search of a possible ambush.

  "Come with me," his escort plunged into the darkness, "just do not come close. I do not like it when people are close."

  Jack understood that perfectly. When you carried a shotgun, you didn't like people rubbing up next to you. When you had a knife, it was another matter. In the darkness, a flashlight switched on, and Jack saw a ladder leading down. He was taking him to the cellars. Although, he had to give Egghead credit for his ingenuity. He had set himself up in a basement, but the entrance was through an ordinary trailer, where an unremarkable family lived. Who would think to look for the entrance in an inhabited trailer? No one. The descent ended at a heavy door. The mustached man knocked. And again, louder. Egghead probably slept in his refuge. Inside, someone turned over, the light came on, an illuminated bar appeared under the door. The lock clicked. The mustached man pushed the door and entered.

  "Master, a man has come, named Jack the Tramp. He's waiting on the stairs."

  "Then bring him!" sounded the familiar voice of Egghead. "What are you waiting for? Hey, buddy, come in!"

  So he was already a friend? Okay. The room behind the door was spacious, unlike the trailer, where it was difficult to turn around. There was a massive antique table, cabinets, several heavy, strong, unusually large chairs, bookshelves. A large part of the free space was occupied by a virt-capsule, huge and certainly terribly expensive. Jack thought the alphas in New Atrium entered Alterra with such capsules. But where was its owner? It seemed he had unlocked the lock, without coming to the door. That was strange. Jack looked around the room again. On the bed in the corner, a tremendous bundle stirred, wrapped in a blanket big enough to wrap up a dozen people of the mustache's build.

  The edge of the blanket flipped to the side. It was... Egghead. Jack had been quite prepared to accept that his real appearance could be almost anything, but he wasn’t prepared for this. Egghead was, how to put it more accurately... damned fat.

  The narrow slits of his eyes watched Jack from the round, swollen face.

  "Damned reality, nothing is as it actually is," said the round clump of fat in his familiar, sweet voice. "Although, no, Jack, you're almost the same as in Alterra. That is somewhat disappointing. I was hoping for a surprise."

  "I'm a knight in shining armor that does not fade under any circumstances," Jack managed to force out.

  "Juan, you can go, thank you," egghead told the mustache. "And you, Jack, sit down and tell me. Choose any chair, they are all strong. Under my weight, ha ha."

  Jack saw a pile of supplies on the floor: cans, canisters, packs of crackers from the consignments. And the battery. Everything was in order, then.

  He chose a place so as not to sit with his back to the door, sat down and put his foot on his knee.

  "Tell me!" Egghead asked again. His eyes shone with anticipation.

  "Well..." Jack started. "As I already mentioned, I found a way to Gaerthon."

  Egghead nodded, which made his whole body jiggle, and Jack continued:

  "You already know about the Corrupted Book of Bacchus and who he was. Eloise sold it to Sartorius. You connected them yourself. Bacchus was an ancient character, an Achaean from Gaerthon, who became a servant of Azeroth. The demon king taught him about black magic and Bacchus built for Azeroth a magical schooner, which knows the path to Gaerthon. In the Corrupted Book, he describes how to reach the boat. I read it... and did as it said. As a result, we were able to go out into the sea."

  "We are who? You and Sartorius?"

  "Sartorius, um, fell behind on the way. But the schooner hit a strip of fog in the middle of the sea. And told me – it's a talking ship, you know – that it is the Curse of the Great Misty Veil, imposed by the Gods. And that's all. We can't go forward or back. We're still spinning out there. So quite easily, but not breaking the gaming conventions, the alphas blocked access to the forgotten continent. There is no information on how to remove the curse, and all that it represents. What do you think?"

  Egghead turned under the blankets, settling back. Now Jack saw the row of buttons and knobs gleaming on the wall above him. There were knife switches that controlled the lights, the door lock and something else there. All at arm's length from the bed.

  The fat man smoothed out his blanket. He would have been straightening his cuffs in a similar situation in Alterra. Although he wasn't an elegant gentleman, the habits were the same – they deliberately made the interlocutor wait.

  "What can I say," the meatball spoke. "At first glance, the problem has no solution."

  "Yeah, cool. That's what I dragged myself half the night here for."

  "Yes," agreed Egghead. "And for that cargo over there."

  A fat, soft hand with sausage fingers pointed to the pile of supplies lying on the floor.

  "I found out something about this curse, although there is no direct information. Hints and scraps... In general, the Curse of the Great Misty Veil was not conceived to be a quest that can be completed by following certain steps. It was created as a... I even don't know how to articulate it... let's say, as a condition of the game. External to the players and beyond their control."

  "What does that mean?"

  "It's like a door that cannot be unlocked. You're not going to open a door integrated into a wall, like a monolithic texture block, right?"

  "That is, you want to tell me that I can't pass this way to Gaerthon?"

  Egghead again thoughtfully stroked the blanket over his vast frame. It seemed that he was saying that it was impossible to overcome this obstacle, but then he was explaining everything so thoroughly... Jack vaguely hoped that the fat man had something in mind.

  "In the version of the game that we enjoy, it's impossible," Egghead finally said in such a tone that it quickly became clear: There was a way!

  There was a pause, and Jack eagerly pushed:

  "Well, come on, say it!"

  "The answer, you know, is obvious. But first I would like to know what I will get in return. What I'll get for my idea and that pile over there on the floor, of course."

  "What do you want?"

  "Everything that opens the way to Gaerthon. Coordinates that can chart a course to the continent. And any other information from Gaerthon should come first to me. What the shores look like, what you can find there, the quests and loot. Anything you can describe in words. This is the first condition."

  "The first?" Even Jack was surprised. It seemed to him that this was all fat that could be removed from the transaction. This was certainly Egghead! He had to be very resourceful to come up with even more benefits in a contract with a pioneer to the forgotten continent. "And what else?"

  "Second," the fat man calmly continued, "any trophies that you find on Gaerthon and want to sell should be offered through me. I can't hope to buy them myself. I don't have enough gold. But I will roll merchants out to you. You can offer your loot to them. This actually benefits you, too: less hassle in finding
buyers."

  "Wait, wait... But if you'll have the coordinates to Gaerthon's shores, my loot won't be so exotic."

  "I'm not going to give the coordinates out right away. They just need to be in my possession. The first trophies, all of them will come to us from you. Only when it’s clear that the mystery of Gaerthon's location will soon be revealed, then I'll place my main stake: I will announce that I know the place. Rather, not the place, but the direction. Sometime after that, of course, Gaerthonian relics will cease to be so uncommon, but that's inevitable. We will be the only suppliers from across the ocean, for as long as we can. See what I mean?"

  Egghead's already round face became even wider, as a satisfied smile spread across it.

  "I do," Jack admitted. Indeed, it was clever. He wouldn't have come up with it himself. He wasn't an expert when it came to trade. "But first, if you remember, I need to circumvent the Curse of the Great Misty Veil."

  "It can't be circumvented," Egghead patiently repeated. "But I have an idea. Do you accept the terms of the deal?"

  "Yes, I agree," replied Jack, gazing firmly into his eyes. "I give you my word that I'll do my part. I don't know if you're willing to trust me or not... And the other question is – am I willing to trust you?"

  "Well, judge for yourself. Let's say, I hand you over to someone strong enough to make you spill all your secrets? And how would I control someone that strong? How to make him abide by my terms? I'm offering you long-term cooperation. I have an interest in you continuing on the path to Gaerthon. This will benefit me in the long run."

  Jack was thoughtfully rapping his knuckles on his knee, but the fat man continued:

  "Besides, you now know where I hide in real life. I'm not expecting such openness from you, although judging by this collection of food, conserves and the battery, I can make some conclusions. I know you're a Walker."

  Jack smirked:

  "Okay, you convinced me. It's much easier to find you here, than a Walker in the Wasteland, that's for sure. Tell me your idea."

  "The idea is to... how to explain this easily? Well, since this version of the game launched in New Atrium has barred the way to the lost continent, we must load the last backup that dates back to the moment before the alphas entered the curse. One where Gaerthon is still accessible."

  Egghead was looking triumphantly at Jack. Probably waiting for delighted approval. But Jack still didn't get it.

  "How do we do that? Where could I find that kind of, ahem, backup? And how can I make the game... take it? How much will collapse in Alterra, after?"

  "The world will adapt, Jack. It's operated by a group of game AIs, if you didn't know. They are able to respond flexibly to such changes, to adapt the game environments. Besides... how to explain this to you... The whole game is a huge aggregation of digital code,” the fat man spread his hands to the sides, wiggled his fingers, demonstrating something complex and large. "It's very sophisticated, but consists of blocks. It was made that way on purpose, otherwise any change the programmers wanted to make would undermine too large an area of the game, would require too many fixes. Therefore, it was all initially done by the block principle, whereby a single block or any changes made to it, may partly affect the neighboring blocks, but no more. Well, and Gaerthon – what is it?"

  Jack mused and suggested:

  "An entirely separate block?"

  "Exactly right. Very large, but also very separate. With its own... let's call it an eco-sphere. Its own landscapes, weather engine, NPCs, everything. So it can be returned to the game. That is, a path can be opened to it without affecting the more serious aspects of Stoglav's existence."

  Jack shook his head:

  "Okay, you certainly understand this better. But where can I get this backup? Where to find it?"

  "On the servers of the company Alterra Conqueror, that's where. One of the ALCO server stations survived the Gendemic, and you already know where it is. You didn't tell me, but you've seen it."

  "Yeah, I saw it. We also talked about the fallen airship lying out there, not far off. What did you find out about it? It's important. My gut feeling tells me that this is all connected: the unsuccessful technician raid from New Atrium, the Misty Veil, the path to Gaerthon..."

  "Now I'll have to explain something again. You're still not tired of listening?"

  "In conversations with you, Egghead, I'm willing to listen and listen, like a girl on a first date. Go ahead, tell me... just try to do it in general terms."

  "To put it in general terms, then, it's like this: as far as I understand the situation, there is a group of alphas in New Atrium, who secretly run Alterra."

  "You can skip this. Sartorius already told me. Only, he himself doesn't know much."

  "And I don't know, either," Egghead sighed. "I would pay dearly to find out more about them. For some reason, they are interested in having as many players as possible in Alterra. Something strange is connected with all of this. Something... related to everything around, to the situation in our world. But we're not discussing that right now. So, here: they, these big people..."

  "...cut out anything in the game that might scare omegas off," Jack finished. "Anything complex or tricky."

  "Right. And when the game failed and was for some reason including some of the old scripts, these people decided that someone returned some blocks from the old version. They became worried and ordered a team of technicians into the Wasteland to check. This was the secret operation."

  "The technicians crash-landed but survived. They reported that they had discovered the server station."

  "Precisely. They were ordered to go there and do the job, and the next day they would send another airship to evacuate. They lost communication. Period. However, the game remained in its truncated state, the changes were purely local in nature. Which meant no one had run old servers. The story was hushed up and they tried to hide all traces of this unsuccessful operation with the airship. Personally, this, to me confirms that you can run the servers and, thus, bring a part of the old version of Alterra to life. Seeing as those mysterious individuals from New Atrium already took a backup for downloading.”

  "I wonder why they didn't just destroy the server station if they were that afraid?"

  "Firstly, there is a lot of valuable information there. It can be used. It's entirely possible that they will visit again, in a sense. Well, they would send someone. Or maybe go themselves... I don't know. Secondly, I'm sure that this group of alphas operates in secret. They didn't even dare to send a squad of defenders with the technicians, so it wouldn't draw attention. When the technicians disappeared, of course, something came to the surface. After some time, defenders left in that direction, but they still avoided a noisy publicity stunt. And then, there was some kind of technical problem. The building is not visible from the air or something like that."

  "That's right, from the geyser fumes. You couldn't see the sky from there," Jack confirmed. "Even approaching from the side of the building, the sky is hazy and the server stations has its own Curse of the Misty Veil above it."

  "Ah, I didn't know about the geysers. That means, in order to guarantee that everything was destroyed, they would have to land, send in a force, or shoot haphazardly over a large area. This would cause a lot of noise in New Atrium, attract attention. So, my idea is to run the old servers at ‘Alterra Conquerer’. The road to Gaerthon will open."

  "It won't work," Jack shook his head. "I don't know how to work the equipment. How do I run the servers? How do I restore the right backup?"

  "I know who to ask. There's an old man who left New Atrium long ago and he... No, I can't tell you. The Mystery is part of our deal. So, I'll get the instructions on how to run the equipment at ALCO. I'll need a few hours."

  "And there’s another thing: the creatures that killed the technicians from New Atrium. They're strong as trolls and fierce as goblins. They've settled right there in the buildings."

  "Creatures," Egghead mused. "Well, if you're willing to take th
e risk, I have a suggestion."

  He slid off the bed, looking very much like the floor was draining droplets of living, quivering fat. Slowly, shuffling his feet with difficulty, Egghead hobbled to the corner with the virt-capsule, and began to move something with a rattle.

  "You? You're suggesting?" Jack was surprised. "What can you know about the creatures? You hide out in your basement. You don't even meet with omegas. What can you know about the Wasteland?"

  "A bit. I know just a little bit," Egghead admitted, puffing and panting. "But I have an idea. Not just an idea, but something, shall we say, material. I will give it to you, and you will go back immediately. Along the way, keep in contact. I'll send you the instructions on how to run the backup."

  Chapter Twenty. Real-Life Goblins

  ON THE WAY back, Jack mulled over Egghead's offer. It all looked very, very questionable. Especially when he considered the deaths of the technicians sent to the Alterra Conqueror buildings. How was Lisa? Alone, in the basement... Maybe she logged into Alterra, got distracted, or simply fell asleep. What if someone found her refuge?

  He wanted to get back as quickly as possible, but at the edge of the ghetto, he checked his pace. A running person looked suspicious. Moreover, he had noticed that two characters were tagging along after him. Realizing this, Jack turned a corner, into the shadow of a collapsed multistory building, and strode along the remnants of the wall. The two appeared after a minute. It was unlikely that this was a coincidence, but so far they had not attacked. They were waiting for something.

  Jack, checking his pace, walked under a six-foot wall. The pair of nasty types followed twenty paces behind. No one else to be seen in this blind corner. The wall covered them from the residential trailers. If they wanted to attack, then this was the best place to do so.

  "Hey, Jack!" they hailed from behind.

  Jack pretended that the name had nothing to do with him and continued with an indifferent expression into the shadows. What was this? Beside him in the shadow of the wall he saw a creeping humped outline. Ah, so that meant the third was sneaking along the crest of the wall.