Could one really fully immerse in a virtual world, or even more enjoy a game with a countdown timer ticking in their head the whole time? "Another two hours and seven minutes of suffering in this damn virtual reality capsule, then I can go to lunch and chat with my colleagues." Although... As an old joke has it, millions of lemmings can't be wrong. Probably, from the perspective of most testers, my work schedule was the one that seemed strange — I came into the office at a random time, played mostly at night, and had never taken a weekend. What was more, I spent twelve or more hours in the capsule every day. Perhaps it was me behaving strangely, and everyone else was acting normal?
Immersed in such thoughts, I walked past the break area when I was suddenly called out to by familiar voices. I turned and saw both of my friends — Max Sochnier and Leon sitting at a table. The former teacher was drinking coffee from the machine unhurriedly, and the former construction worker was wolfing down a full breakfast. Although, full might be overstating it — the only things on the tray before Leon were a plate of cheap synthetic quick-cooking vermicelli and a dish containing a powdered omelet that hadn't been fully mixed with hot water. Leon was lazily stirring the barely edible mass with a plastic fork and drinking some off-brand crappy soda right from a two-liter bottle.
To be honest, I was surprised — even in our most moneyless and dark times, Val and I had never stooped to such obviously unhealthy sources of nourishment. And my colleague should have had money — it wasn't even a few days ago that Leon had invited all of us to a restaurant to celebrate his passing the trial period and the quite respectable salary he was offered of fifteen hundred credits a month. Veronica was also supposed to give him back the three thousand. Maybe she hadn't yet? I was too ashamed to get into interrogating Leon on his financial condition, all the more so given that Max Sochnier was rushing to share his news.
Max had spent nearly the whole previous night in Boundless Realm. The two-day storm at the Island of the Wanton Widow gradually quieted down, and the Naiad Trader had prepared for the unwanted but inevitable visit of undying to his trade galley Tipsy Gannet. There were already over thirty ships gathered near the island, and it wasn't hard to figure out that the wyvern hunters would be enraged when they realized that they had waited so long near the rocky island for nothing. Nevertheless, before the sun was even up, all thirty of the ships keeping the bay under siege lifted anchor and left to the northwest! The Naiad Trader couldn't believe his good fortune, but immediately awoke his crew and took advantage of the chance to leave the island, leading Tipsy Gannet further on its trade route.
"But I wasn't just sitting around the last few days with my flippers crossed, as you might have thought," Max Sochnier smiled, clearly satisfied with himself. "Yesterday, I discovered an underwater village of naiads and nereids near the island. If only you could have seen how many quests my character got! My eyes were splitting from the abundance of options! I reached level thirty in one day. I met lots of undersea girls, raising my Lothario skill to fifteen. I even took things to a romantic level with a nereid fish girl named Olilissa —she might even lay eggs today!"
"Wait up, she's of a different race than you," I said, catching onto that factor in my friend's tale. "You're a naiad, and she's a nereid..."
"Oh yeah? You try explaining that to a girl twice as long as you, and ten times stronger. She swims twice as fast as me. If a girl like that's got it in her head that she likes you, it's best not to argue. She even suggested that we attack the ships of the undying together from underwater, but I refused — the two of us wouldn't have managed, and my girlfriend would have just died for nothing. But Olilissa did give me a really cool pet — a two-meter level-11 swordfish! I named it Claymore. I'm gonna grow her into a ten-meter-long lightning fast killer. She'll make excellent protection for the trade galley. No pirate ship will dare come near! Also, the underwater residents placed some orders — all I had to do was remember to write it down in a scroll. Some need mirrors. Others want pearls of an unusual color that don't exist at the Island of the Wanton Widow. Some want forged iron and boards. The fish want hemp and strong horsehair nets. Olilissa wants coral beads... I feel like if I really can get all that and bring it to them within six days, I'll level up at least five times from all the completed quests. And most of the quests there are chains, so there will certainly be new orders. And, just imagine! That was all just in one village! Think how many there must be along the whole coastline! All in all, Timothy, I'm just starting to understand how to play a Naiad Trader."
My friend's emotional speech was interrupted by an account-balance-change beep. Max Sochnier dug through his pockets to see the message. I also got out my vibrating phone. A deposit of two hundred credits. More corporate employees outed as rats. And another three hundred credits for "exposing a bug."
"Woah! A hundred-credit deposit!" said the Frenchman, lighting up. "Yesterday, I found a bug in the game with converting the price of a good from credits into pearls. I immediately told tech support. They already fixed the error, and I got paid a bonus."
"I was also sent money for finding a bug with controlling the wyvern," I said, not particularly wanting to get into the full amount or reason.
"You're lucky..." said Leon, decisively pushing away the tray of his unfinished breakfast. "There's no work for me on the pirate bireme, so I've just been withering away at level twenty-seven. And I've got another four days of hardship to wait for my salary..."
Max immediately offered our friend a fifty-credit loan and Leon, slightly fighting back for appearances, agreed. I also offered the former construction worker some money, but he refused, saying that he already had enough. So then, what was this about? Either Veronica hadn't returned the loan, or he'd wasted a significant sum of money. Then my phone rang. The number wasn't shown.
"Timothy?" I only needed one word to recognize the voice of Inessa Tyle, vice president of the Boundless Realm Corporation. "I'm watching your video from this morning right now, and I cannot hold back the tears of joy. Timothy, this is exactly what I wanted out of you! Romance, pirates, sea, battles, steel, blood and rich booty! All in the spirit of Robert Louis Stevenson or Jules Verne. And you fulfilled my order so quickly and perfectly. It hasn't even been a day. Thank you. I have also already fulfilled my promise — the documents on your promotion to senior tester have already been sent to HR. You can drop by your department to sign the order as soon as we’re off the phone. It's nice to do business with such a prompt, ambitious young man, Timothy! I hope we see each other again."
I lowered my hand with the phone still pressed in it and my lips stretched out into a stupid ear-to-ear smile.
"That was a call from HR," I said to my friends as they watched me carefully, touching up my version of the conversation. "They say the leadership is happy with my work, so they made me a senior tester with the salary to go with it! I just need to go to the department now to sign the papers!"
Both Max and Leon congratulated me, and I didn't sense a bit of envy or falsehood in their congratulations. Both were sincerely happy for me.
"Tell Veronica to hurry up in there," the former construction worker added. "She's already been talking to Mark Tobius about something for a half hour, and she still hasn't returned."
"By the way, about Veronica..." I said, taking advantage of the opportunity to discuss the slippery topic. "Explain to me why your girlfriend needed to buy the wyvern hunter amulet?"
Leon just shrugged his shoulders, not knowing the answer.
"You understand yourself that I am trying my best to run away from the hunters, constantly changing position and obscuring my location. But now, I've got a participant in the great hunt right on my ship! Naturally, that has me on edge!"
The former construction worker predictably stood to the defense of his new flame:
"Timothy, there's nothing for you to worry about here. I already told you that she doesn't have any weapons or combat skills. She calls herself a 'social character,' which means she gains experience by
talking. What's more..." here Leon fell silent, as if considering whether to say the next part or not. "Angelica Wayward doesn't want to be in our group. Sure, I offered a few times, but she refused. She just constantly tells me that she's playing her own game and the role of second fiddle to a big-eared goblin is not for her. Veronica also said that she needs to start streaming again in order not to lose her current audience. From all that, I made the conclusion that the dryad will be leaving White Shark soon, so no need to worry about her. And also... I'll probably follow her ashore. No offense, Timothy, but I feel I should be helping her. I'm quite smitten, after all."
I spent some time in silence, thinking over the former construction worker's admission. What could I say? I wasn't planning on compelling him to play with me against his own will. After a heavy sigh, I said:
"Alright, I won't get in your way. Let Veronica cast her streams, earn money, and even wear the wyvern amulet. But you have to understand me as well — the presence of wyvern hunters on my ship is totally unacceptable. So, Angelica Wayward must go ashore in the nearest port. You can stay or follow your girlfriend, it's up to you. By the way, there's another medallion in the captain's chambers sitting on a table — I got it as a trophy after last night’s battle. You can have it. Boundless Realm is dangerous, and reducing experience loss in case of death is a useful bonus."
Leon nodded, not raising his eye to me and asked when we'd reach the next port.
"Today at about six PM, both of my ships will arrive to New Tortuga for repair."
"Both? You got another ship?" Max Sochnier cut into the conversation.
"Yes, last night, a trireme of wyvern hunters caught up to White Shark. It was a very intense battle. Twenty pirates were killed, and another eighty were wounded. Half of my pets had to respawn. But still, we won! I captured the trireme, but the ships are damaged. They need repair. By the way, Leon, while you're on my ship, you could take a look and see what needs fixing?"
The former construction worker nodded, still not raising his eyes and feeling guilty. I bid farewell to my friends and headed to the elevators — I had to drop by the director of special projects’ office and sign the papers on my promotion.
* * *
The tiny Jane looked very strange in the huge leather armchair, made for the dimensions of her immense former boss. Nevertheless, the girl was sitting at the director's table and let me know from her first words that the situation had changed dramatically, and that she was no longer the department head's secretary, but the acting director of special projects:
"Hello, Timothy. Pour yourself some coffee. It wouldn't be proper for me to serve my underlings."
Underlings? As far as I knew, Jane was only occupying the post of director, which was freed up for a day or two, until a new department head could be appointed. Yesterday, the vice president of the corporation Inessa Tyle had spoken fairly dismissively of the pretty director's assistant, saying she wore too much makeup or something like that. She couldn't even remember Jane's name. Had the situation really changed that abruptly overnight? Were they really planning on making Jane the new department head? Nevertheless, I still hadn't made up my mind to give her the hazelnut chocolate I'd bought and headed in silence to the coffee machine.
"I see you aren't very surprised at the changes," the girl noted.
"Well last night, Andrei Soloviev, the head of in-game security, told me that Mark Tobius had asked to be transferred back to his previous position in the development department. He said that, for the next two days, all complicated issues would have to be solved through you, then we'd see from there."
"That's exactly right! But to me, being honest, it was a surprise. I walked into work, turned on my computer, and found a letter in my email from HR saying I'd been appointed acting department head. Then it said that they were making a decision on who would be the next director, and how I performed in this position could move me up that list. I was given access and passwords to the director's terminal. And now, I'm sitting here getting intimate with the situation on all department employees. I'll admit, I don't understand a damn thing yet... By the way, what was it you came for, Timothy?"
I informed my new boss about the call "from HR," in which I was told to come and sign the papers on my promotion.
"I didn't get anything about that..." Jane said, flipping through messages on her screen a few times with a confused look. "Unless..." the girl stood up from the director's chair with clear displeasure and walked back to her former desk. "Ah, here it is! The email came in six minutes ago. Woah! A salary of two thousand credits... Congratulations, Timothy! I'll print it off in duplicate right away."
The printer hummed into action, spitting out sheets of paper. Wiser after my past experience, I read closely into the text. This time, everything was right, without any unforeseen obstacles. It was just an addendum to my work contract describing my new position: "Senior Game Plotline Tester," and an additional monthly salary on top of the previously existing forms of payment. I signed both copies and set them on the director's table.
"Timothy, come over here," Jane called me over. "A new advertising clip came in from marketing for me to sign off on. It's directly relevant to you."
The girl scooted over on the huge armchair, offering me a seat to her and increasing the volume of the speakers. I carefully sat next to my new boss and stared at the screen.
There was a huge trireme of predatory appearance plowing through the waves, racing after two ships barely visible on the horizon. The great hunt continues! Amra discovered! After that, there were scenes of my big-eared goblin on the backdrop of the black pirate flag, pointing at the trireme and giving a speech before a group of fearsome orc sailors. The shaman, the sacrifice. White Shark making a tack under combat conditions. The ships racing at one another at full speed. The huge ballista bolt nearly scratching my cheek and slamming through the mast. Orc pirates falling all around me, the royal seamen slain by well-aimed arrows. The stone golem, cast by the earth mage right on the deck of my ship. The catapult shot. Fire and death. The ships coming up sideways on one another, grappling hooks flying, oars breaking. The dwarf greeting the paladin with his heavy two-handed sledgehammer as the man tried to jump over the water. A few sailors fallen into the sea. White Shark darting away from the burning trireme. The stabbing rampage and the fight for a spot in the dinghy. The downcast tied-up players. The executioner with his poleax and bloodied block. My wonderful emerald wyvern. The scream of the elf girl being eaten alive. The first battle of the great hunt was now behind Amra!
A slightly different order of events, not quite lining up with reality. And not a word about letting the players go — from the scenes in the clip, the viewers were sure to come to the conclusion that the bloodthirsty pirate captain had knocked all the captives off using the very harshest methods. But all in all, it looked very interesting, and the quality was high. The people who made the clip were clearly true professionals. A head and shoulders above the quick-and-dirty hack jobs I was producing.
"You're really on fire, Timothy!" I heard unhidden admiration in the voice of the girl sitting next to me. "Now, it's clear why they made you senior tester. Shall we approve the advertising clip?"
I had no objections. Jane sent her approval. I then tried to stand from the armchair, but the girl held me by the shoulder.
"Where are you hurrying off to, Timothy? We haven't had the chance to talk in ages! Don't worry, I'm not gonna interrogate you," she laughed, having noticed my nervous exertion. "This is just business. You do remember our understandings, right? I have some information that might interest you."
"How much?" I asked, fitfully imagining my bank account balance — Jane's past services had come at quite the cost, now with her promotion, they could run me a truly astronomical sum.
Instead of an answer, my boss just laughed and very slowly led her well-manicured nail down my neck from chin to shirt collar. It was seemingly tender, but for some reason, I was now reminded of Max Sochnier and his seven-m
eter-long nereid.
"You're so timid and tense today, Timothy," Jane said, taking her hand from my neck in clear disappointment. She reached for the computer mouse and opened an email. "It's free to start. Read it yourself."
It was a letter from the external security service addressed to Mark Tobius, and had been received late last evening. It said that the identities of several people had been established, who were actively talking on the phone with an employee of the special projects department playing a character by the name of Angelica Wayward. They were former classmates of hers who played Boundless Realm, who were now in the clans Firstborn and Warlords. The frequency of the calls grew sharply in the last few hours. No criminality had been detected in their calls; however, they had managed to connect those people with the crew of the players on the trireme Princess Amelia, which had left the port of Piren after White Shark, the location of both Angelica Wayward herself and Amra, the target of the global event.
So, there it was! Veronica had given me up to her friends with the goal of taking my valuable mount! I tore my gaze from the screen and met with Jane's face, smiling and very satisfied with herself.
"I knew you'd be interested in that email," the girl laughed, moving it from the inbox to the trash bin. "Veronica couldn't hold back her emotions either, when she saw the email. Although she assured me it was all just a coincidence and that she'd been talking with her former classmates on completely neutral topics, having nothing at all to do with Boundless Realm,"
"Would it be legal for her to interfere in the corporation's global event like that?" I inquired.
"Mark Tobius didn't think so. Security didn't interfere either. In the end, the sea battle took place and turned out great. Everyone's a winner. You and I, of course, not having read emails not addressed to us, have no notion of that, though. Isn't that right, Timothy?"
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