by Mars Dorian
I had never thought about it, but her statement made sense.
“In order to delete your player data for good, you’d need to address the administrative game AI, verify your ID multiple times, and wait for a twenty-four hour delay before your request gets accepted.”
“That much trouble?”
“The Crystal Crusade has become a giant industry, Dash. Hundreds of thousands of players make their living off their character. An accidentally deleted or hacked profile could end a career with a snap.”
She told me what to do. It sounded like a reasonable plan. I flushed the toilet again and walked out. To my surprise, Mr. Ustinov didn’t stand in front of the door. He remained in my room, his eyes set on the VR gear.
“Better?”
“Not really.”
I swallowed and sat down on my chair, eyes glued on the VR set. The temperature in my room seemed to have dropped, even though I hadn’t changed the regulator.
“So you really want me to delete my player data now?”
“It’s just the first step toward liberation.”
Well, his idea of liberation sucked wragg balls, that was for sure. But thanks to Sparrow’s proposal, I acted my role. “But you’ll still let me play with a new character set?”
“For the time being, yes. Rome wasn’t built in a day.”
But it was burned down in one.
Nevertheless, I wrapped the gloves around my fingers, pulled the VR helmet over my head and connected with the computer. I searched for the backup files of my player data and deleted it. I knew my character was saved in the cloud, but it still felt odd to manually delete my backup files. My beloved Level 9 WarTech disappeared. At least the local version stored on my SSD.
I seriously hoped Sparrow was right.
Back in the real world, I unstrapped my VR gear and faced Mr. Ustinov and his demanding stare.
“See? That wasn’t too hard. You won’t believe me now, but our work together will actually be fun.”
I doubted that, but refrained from mouthing my frustration. I still acted as the annoyed gamer who just had to delete his game history.
“I worked so freaking hard on my character.”
“It’s time to work on your real one.”
A beep sounded from his left hand. He flicked a glance at his wristband. “Unfortunately, I have another appointment in forty-five minutes so we have to call it quits for today.”
“Bummer.”
He paused with a sharp smile. “I’ll come back tomorrow at around nine in the morning. By the end of the week, you’ll have made tremendous progress, Dash.”
“Can’t wait for it.”
He knew I was bullshitting him, but I had to play the annoyed gamer or else he would have questioned my calmness over the profile deletion. Addicts normally rage when their ‘drug’ is taken away.
Mr. Ustinov moved to leave, so I stood up and shook his hand. As before, he squeezed tight and almost pulled me to his chest. Who shook a hand like that?
“We’ll turn you into a functional member of society again. A new world will open up for you, Dash. It will be ripe with possibilities.”
I simply nodded and watched Mr. Ustinov march out of the room. He met with my mother in the kitchen and exchanged a few words I couldn’t hear. In the middle of the conversation, both looked at me like two schemers trying to overtake the world.
My world.
I saluted them and picked up an ancient book from my shelf.
Its title: “1984”.
I pretended to read while waiting for Mr. Ustinov to leave my house. I knew mother had to work a second shift soon which meant I was soon going to be alone again. I crossed my fingers and hoped Sparrow was trustworthy.
35
It took Mr. Ustinov more than twenty-five minutes before he levitated his butt out of my trailer. I nervously flipped the pages of my yellowed tome before Mom’s demanding voice pulled me back again. “Dashiell?”
She summoned me back to the kitchen counter. “How do you feel?”
“I’ll manage.”
“Did you delete the files Mr. Ustinov talked about?”
“Yeah. He made me purge my player’s account.”
“I know this might be hard for you, but he’s supposed to be the best in his field.”
“Why are you letting a stranger into our house?”
“I called a few friends and they recommended Mr. Ustinov to me. He’s supposed to be the number one addiction specialist in Colorado.”
I twitched at the mention of online addiction, but with Mom on the move, I didn’t want to ignite another debate. We experienced enough stress today for two lifetimes. She packed her bag and threw on her coat. “One week, okay? That’s all I’m asking for.”
“Fine.”
She kissed my cheek. “And please continue to look for a job. We need the money.”
“I’m already working on it.”
She waved goodbye and disappeared through the front door.
“Have fun at work,” I said.
“You know I won’t.”
I heard the cranky old van screech its tires on the rotten road. Finally, the moment I’d been waiting for since the second I woke up. I moved toward the door and watched my mother take the rusty pickup along Capistrano Avenue. I waved her goodbye and left the porch the second she turned the corner. I hurried back to my room, locked it from the inside and applied the VR set to my body. Plugged into Fourlando again when Sparrow herself called me via my wristband. “Are you alone?”
“Yeah, he’s finally gone.”
“Did you delete the local file?”
“Yeah.”
I checked the online connection and breathed out when I saw my game profile being intact. Hail the almighty cloud.
Sparrow said, “Every time you log off from a session, the administrative AI creates a backup copy on your local drive. Be sure to delete before the guy comes back.”
“I will. Thanks for everything.”
“No problem. I see that you have mastered the field mission. What’s your goal now?”
For a second, I wanted to ask Sparrow if she wanted to form a party with me, but then I realized her Level 42 Stalker was way out of my league. I wouldn’t survive her advanced quests, and she gained no advantage from participating in mine. What a bummer. She would have been the perfect partner.
“I think I’m going to hit a mid-sized township and look for story and side quests to level up. I need to reach Level fifteen and experiment with my skills.”
“Not to force you in any direction, but the Chainlink ability is tremendously useful. It looks like a hard tool to master, but once you pull it off, you have one of the most diverse offensive and defensive weapon at your disposal.”
“Sounds good. I’ll keep that skill in mind.”
“Have you decided which faction you’d like to join?”
A myriad of factions and autonomous groups had fought each other in the world. It was too hard to keep up with all the names and their affiliations. I knew only some splitter groups; and the Sunblood Syndicate of course.
“Not yet.”
“Well, Varmegarden is a good place to start from. It’s a township to the south of Montobay and has a thriving industrial sector. And with the ongoing Reepo-mining, there’s plenty of infestation. You’ll find moderately challenging quests to build your character. A handful of factions are also present, so you can see which one suits your playing style.”
“You’re saving my ass twice today.”
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s talk later. I’ve got some questing to do.”
“We will.”
Sparrow, my savior from another mother. My guardian angel force that prevented my WarTech from the death of deletion. I said goodbye to Sparrow in the chat and reactivated my player file.
Whoosh.
Back in the Academy dorm, I looked up my e-scroll. All the items, including the rare gunblade and my undistributed skill points, still existed.
For now, I invested two more skill points on the Machine Spirit, which increased my charge-throwing rate to 7.5 meters and upgraded my device-damage to +15%, while improving my overall mech affinity. I also spent one skill on Fowl Riding, an ability found in the utility section of my character profile. It improved the stamina of any fowl by 10% and its speed by 5%, allowing it to sprint farther and faster.
I used the last skill point for my close combat ability, enhancing my melee damage to 15% while granting me access to medium melee weapons.
Next came the party selection.
Hundreds of avatars buzzed around the player hub in the Academy, but maybe it was better to team-up at the township instead of cold calling dozens of players here. I opened the interactive world map and searched for Varmegarden. The mid-sized township lay a few dozen kilometers below Montobay. I could either take a ship down to the newly liberated city and then choose a land ride to Varmegarden, or I could travel down the Northern Peak and cross the land from the get-go. That sounded like the better option, so I left the dorm, traversed the hallways, and finally reached the departure gate where I turned around and mentally waved goodbye to the school. Over the past weeks, I’d come to love the place. It offered the education I needed to survive in the world of Fourlando, but the safe space held me back. No more tutorial time, no more lectures; the real game world awaited me.
With all the money I had earned from the field mission, I haggled with a local trader and rented my first speed fowl. I also bought some powerkraut and fed it to the fowl. The cheap herb boosted the creature’s temporary stamina and allowed it to sprint 12% longer than usual. I strapped on and followed the route I had marked on the world map. I rushed away from the Academy complex and roared across the plains. L’ocean once told me that nomads and bandit factions sometimes attacked travelers, but the plains looked clear to me. In the distance, I saw dozens of other players riding their fowls. They seemed to gallop toward the same destination as me, so I shadowed their rides in case some surprise attackers lurked nearby. Thankfully, no bandit wanted to scalp my player’s head and I made it safely to my first township beyond the tutorial zone.
36
A giant wall engulfed the town, probably built to keep attackers out instead of trapping citizens in. I zoomed on my e-scroll map and noticed three entrances to the town, connected with major roads leading across the main continent. This town apparently functioned as a major hub for the land.
To keep a low profile, I joined a caravan and a group of traders in front of the gate where I had to pass a guard tower. Patrols inspected the incoming travelers and forwarded the cleared passersby. A faint yellow silhouette showed me that these guards stood on neutral grounds with me. After paying a fee of fifty credits, they allowed me to gallop in.
The town looked unlike Lynchburg or Montobay. This one had a Mediterranean touch with its terracotta-roofed houses, sun-yellow facades, and tropical flowerbeds gracing the roads and back alleys. I had never been to Italy or Spain, but this town could have sprung from those countries, well, apart from the industrial factories protruding in the background of the skyline. Apparently, the Sunblood Syndicate had set up a flourishing Reepo-mining and refinery facility which also brought a couple of problems. Wherever the Reepo surged, trouble ensued. For now, the township seemed at peace. No roadblocks, no flaming roofs, no soldiers yelling attack orders and opening fire. Heck, if this town existed in reality, I would have put my slippers on and relaxed in the sun all day. Maybe this place was too peaceful for questing.
I rode my fowl down the main road where a colorful sign greeted travelers like me.
“Welcome to Varmegarden—The Green Jewel of Fourlando.”
And green it was. Tropical palm trees, exotic flowerbeds, and colorful ornaments in shop windows made Varmegarden look like a sunny tourist spot. I worried that I wouldn’t find any challenges here, but the decent amount of players in groups of tens and twenties told me something had to be going on here. Besides, Sparrow recommend this place to me, and her advice had been sound so far.
Near the central plaza of the township, I picked an affordable inn (fifteen credits per night) and planned my day’s adventure. I bought a local map which updated the location on the overworld section of my e-scroll. The town looked like a structured maze from above, with all streets and roads leading to and from the central square like a spider web. In the north-east area of the town was the mysterious plant which had blacked out on my map; a sure sign the area was forbidden to enter. I memorized the most important spots of the town and visited a supply shop nearby.
The NPC, a young woman wearing working gear, waved me over with a service smile. “Welcome to Moola’s Mobile Maker Shop.”
She had the passion to bring down a wall with her pinky finger. I liked Moola already. “I’m looking for a couple of potions and remedies.”
“Sure, we got them all. Low potions, mid-potions, hi-potions, and even X-potions.”
“What’s the X for?”
Moola grinned like a girl who had pulled off a devious prank. “Insider secret.”
I lowered my eyes and marveled at her impressive showcase set up behind an elongated glass vitrine. My fingers moved toward a set of test tubes stashed in a belt. The liquid flickered and reminded me of a certain crystal infection roaming the lands.
“What about these?”
Moola hesitated. She looked past my shoulder as if to spot eavesdroppers. I doubted this world had any form of CCTV. “It’s a cure against Reepo-based infections. If a Creepo bites you, take it. If you work your poor butt in a place where lots of Reepo slimes around, take it. Saves your life, true story.”
“Does that happen often around here—getting bitten by infected creatures?”
Her smile faltered. She pressed her lips and seemed challenged finding the proper words. I tried to ease the situation for her. “I’ve just arrived from the Academy, so I haven’t sworn allegiance to anybody.”
“Let’s just say that the workers of the new refinery plant have some ‘Reeproblems’, if you know what I mean. Seriously, who wants to wake up with freaking crystals popping out of your head, right?”
“Not my ideal bad hair day.”
“Exactly.”
I wonder what the difficulties entitled—mutated creatures or infected workers rampaging around? I’d soon find out.
The Reepo vaccines cost almost triple the price of regular antidotes and health potions, but the memory of the infected girl back in the Lynchburg quest freaked me out. With my low class level, I faced the danger of getting infected. The fight against Creepos would only increase from here on, so I had to stock the right antidotes. I was investing in my future survival.
“I’d like to buy a single set.”
The girl’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”
Her reaction threw me off. “They do work, right?”
“They work like magic. A local alchemist geezer spent tons of months finding the right formula. It’s my number one seller for workers in the plant.”
The set comprised of six test tubes. I paid over 400 credits and received the precious antidotes. A hand-drawn coupon with a smiley face lay sandwiched between the test tubes.
“Ten percent off for your next round of anti-Reepo potions,” the clerk said. “If you buy more than five sets, you become a premium customer and receive special perks such as rare tools and discounted potions.”
This girl had real marketing chutzpa.
“You’re quite the sales artist,” I said.
Moola chuckled with a blush. “My motto is: whatever you w
ant to buy in the world you can get from me.”
“Looks like Amazon is gonna face some serious competition.”
“Who’s Amazon?”
She seemed genuinely puzzled, but I didn’t want to ruin her sales passion with a competitor from the offline world. “Don’t worry about it. From now on, you’re my favorite marketplace in Fourlando.”
Her right fist shot up the air. “Yay!”
I left her shop with a smile on my face and an inventory filled with useful items. Even seemingly unimportant side-NPCs like shop owners carried bits of value. If I wanted to join a meaningful quest, I probably needed to look around the Reepo facility perimeter.
Back at the main plaza, dozens of players talked to local merchants and other players. I needed to engage soon and get the latest gist of the gossip, but I decided to plan my tactics.
The best way to level up was to join a party with like-minded players and take on bigger, story-based quests that allowed for multiple moral choices. Beating up critters in corrupted caves may have worked in the beginning for upgrading to Level 5, but the more I progressed, the fewer experience points I received from merely fighting monsters. It looked like the game mechanics wanted to me to move away from monster slaying. I had to engage in morally tough missions to receive big XP.
A challenge I accepted with arms wide open.
Outside, the dynamic day and night cycle continued to spin. Late afternoon melted into early evening. Up high in the reddened sky, the stars flickered. It looked romantic, like a post-card style image, except for one ugly spot that disrupted the view. The Reepo-infected moon, the Violet Lunar, glowed its crimson color. This far away, the moon looked like a bloody eyeball made out of crystals. And no matter where I walked on the stony path, the orb-shaped evil always seemed to be directed at me—must have been a feature from the game developers to freak out the players. And despite the worries, I wondered what was going on up there. Why did no player ever manage to trespass the Violet Lunar? Maybe one day I’d find out, but for now, I strolled toward the inner city and looked for quests. Call it destiny or bad luck, but the trouble found me quicker than I expected to.