《Gun Meister Online [Second Draft]》


 1. Character Creation

    Gun Meister Online loading¡­ Complete.


    Logging into server¡­ Complete.


    New Player Detected¡­


    Initiating Character Creation¡­


    It all began with a tiny unborn child as it floated serenely in the blue-green amniotic fluid. Robotic arms hung from the top of the machine with waiting tools. The view changed, shifting outward from the embryo, and the room became visible for the first time. It was circular in shape and clinically white. Tubes filled with the same amniotic liquid lined the walls. Visible beneath him¡ªthrough a thick pane of glass¡ªwere thousands more cylinders like his.


    Finally, a display slid into view. The simple user interface was an opaque white box containing a symbol for each gender. Charlie reached forward touching the male symbol. A mix of preset genetic bodies appeared on the screen containing Asian, African, Arabic, Chinese, Eastern European, Western European, Indian, then a few mixed types. He decided on a tall blond Eastern European. Next, he began to customize the preset character. As he worked the arms within the tube moved. Little injectors slid into the embryo to make said changes. The face narrowed with a straight, proud chin. His angular nose had a slight hook to it which pointed to a pair of thin upturned lips. Charlie gave the character short dirty blond hair, and changed the pupils to brown with flecks of green and gray in them. The man ended up looking quite similar to himself, only younger, and without the imperfections of real life.


    At the bottom of the screen he hit accept, then confirmed his decision and waited. The body of the infant began to grow. Bubbles filled the cylinder as the child aged. Arms and legs lengthened as hair grew from the boy''s scalp. Soon it was a juvenile adult and its brown eyes opened. Though its expression was blank the boy smiled dimpling cute cheeks. More windows appeared on the console.


    "Please select your character stats. These will never increase, so you must decide carefully how to distribute them. Later you may return here to reset your stats for a heavy credit cost. You have five points." The terminal audibly said. Three categories appeared below this. The console spoke as he touched the first word, "Strength determines carrying capacity, and helps with recoil control. Agility affects your movement speed. Endurance determines your stamina pool and adds extra health."


    Each stat started at one point. The most he could put into any category was three points bringing it to a maximum of four. He spent about a minute toying with the sliders because it was so hard to decide. Charlie was only allowed one character, so it was important to be happy with his decision. He tapped the side of the terminal with a finger. He was going to have to sacrifice somewhere. Two points into strength would leave him with below average carrying capacity. That seemed low but fine. Mostly he struggled with what to put his agility at. Moving quickly seemed important, and maxing it was an obvious choice. However, being fast wouldn''t do him any good if his stamina was pathetic.


    [Strength - ¦µ¦µ¦¯¦¯]


    [Agility - ¦µ¦µ¦µ¦¯]


    [Endurance - ¦µ¦µ¦µ¦¯]


    The character was somewhat average, but at least nothing was at one point. If he didn''t start this game he''d be stuck here all day. Charlie hit the big accept button. Bubbles filled the cylinder again as his vision changed. It moved, diving forward into the growing teen. For a second all was black. A roaring sound was accompanied by the blue-green liquid rushing past his vision in the torrent. Quickly the container drained as the amniotic fluid was flushed below. The case opened exposing his naked body to the cold antiseptic air. He shivered before stepping out. The viscous fluid pooled at his bare feet as he looked around. The lab was empty except a white plastic table a few feet ahead of him. Heaps of carefully folded towels sat atop, and he grabbed one. The cold wasn''t so bad after he finished drying himself off. It took about three of the large cloths to complete the process. He tossed these into a hamper next to the table. The white plastic surface served as an adequate mirror. Charlie bent, inspecting his young lean body in the reflection. His arms were a little thin but well defined. The distorted image flexed a bicep and grinned back at him. For certain this virtual avatar was in marginally better shape than his real world body.


    He straightened and looked around for an exit. A closed door was the only entrance into the circular room. Before leaving he wrapped a towel around his waist. Then he padded barefoot towards the exit. It slid open as he neared the door. Charlie stepped inside noticing the lockers on either side. A boy wearing a gray military uniform waited within. He had dark hair and red colored eyes.


    "Welcome to Gun Meister Online. Is this your first time playing?" The boy asked cheerfully. The person didn''t seem phased by Charlie''s near nudity.


    "Yes," Charlie said sniffing. There was a locker room odor like the age old aroma of sweat and laundered clothes.


    "You must have many questions," The young man responded and Charlie nodded. He shifted his weight and just barely grabbed the towel before it fell off.


    "There are a veritable plethora of virtual games. Some fantasy, others modern or futuristic fiction. In these, your character will level struggling to gain power and abilities. Not so with Gun Meister. Here your avatar doesn''t grow, you do." The boy said magnanimously. Charlie was left a little confused by this. "We strive for a realistic experience. There are no levels, no stat increases, no legendary items, in fact, there is no inventory system at all. We have eliminated the entire user interface." The boy said with a large smile. When Charlie didn''t respond he continued.


    "In order to access the system menu touch the side of your temple with two fingers." The boy said demonstrating. He pressed the index and middle fingers to the side of his head. Charlie followed his example. A small window popped up before his vision. Listed within the box was Options, Help, and Logout. When he didn''t touch anything the popup closed.


    "How do I get dressed?" Charlie asked.


    "The lockers you see contain uniforms of various sizes. I suggest you try a middle one with your build." The boy said pointing to a locker on the right side. Inside was a pair of black boxers, a set of gray slacks, and a matching military tunic. Underneath the clothes were a pair of socks and combat boots. Charlie took a minute to put these on and felt better fully dressed. The boy remained where he was passively smiling.


    "As you just saw everything must be worn. Guns, equipment, and even ammo will be carried into battle. Winning matches, killing enemies, and surviving will earn you money. You can purchase most items in the game with the exception of weapons." His guide said in a rehearsed voice.


    "We can''t buy guns?" Charlie asked incredulously.


    "Gun Meister Online uses a new dynamic NPC system. Every gun in the game is a non-player-character." He said, but Charlie looked at him in total confusion. The boy nodded in sympathy and added, "It will be easier just to show you what I mean." He turned moving down the locker room, and guided him through the next doorway.


    The walls were a glossy white, and hanging in glass frames were dozens of weapon diagrams. Several circular tables were set up around the chamber, the middle one being the largest. Each was made of the same futuristic material. Pistols nestled neatly in clear stands at the edges. A lot of them. So many pistols he couldn''t count them all. A soft blue lighting was recessed into the tables, which set off the guns like cars at a show. He¡¯d gone directly from an empty cloning lab to a locker room, and now into an armory. It was like being popped out of the womb and handed running shoes. Charlie was left a little disoriented.


    "These weapons have volunteered to be here. You may pick one pistol to use. Later if you are unsatisfied with the gun you may seek another." The boy said from nearby.


    Charlie approached the central table. He eyed the weapons like a kid in a candy store. Black semi-autos sat next to sleek chrome revolvers. There were pistols of every description and none were set in a discernible order. He started to orbit the table feeling very overwhelmed. Not every plastic stand was filled. A few were empty making him wonder what had been there before. Charlie didn''t know anything about firearms. All he knew was what he saw in movies and TV shows. Finally, he stopped before a small group of pistols. When he did the middle of the table blossomed with light. A holo-image of a woman appeared floating above the table. She was beautiful; no gorgeous was the only word for it. She had long blond hair and the bluest eyes he ever saw, but it was her breasts he was looking at. They were big, juicy, and succulent. He stared for a minute at the woman in the display.


    Before Charlie cradled in a clear plastic stand was a pistol. He reached down and picked up the semi-automatic. As he did, a female voice squealed with sheer joy. It was as if someone had spoken directly into his ear drum, and she sounded so happy. The image hanging over the table vanished after a few seconds.


    The pistol was surprisingly heavy in his hand. It was a weapon of war with a solid reassuring weight. He lifted it, turning the gun to inspect it in the blue light. Along the side it read ¡®Colt Government Model - 1911¡¯ followed by .45 caliber. After this, there was a stylized picture of a horse.


    "Do you accept the gun?" The boy asked. He couldn''t very well put the pistol down after getting her hopes up.


    "Yes," Charlie said turning away from the table. The red eyed child had a look in his eye, and a knowing grin. Charlie flushed in response.


    "Go with the pistol into the next room. She''ll take over your instruction. There is much to learn still, so trust in your weapon." The boy said pointing to a final door. This one was more normal than the previous ones. They had slid open at his approach like some futuristic science fiction movie. This final door had a handle and swung outward. Charlie paused looking back at all the pistols. The boy smiled, nodded to him, and turned to go back into the locker room. Charlie pushed open the door and entered. The shag carpet was a bright cheerful creamy orange. A king sized bed took up almost the entire room and sultry jazz music played in the background.


    "What the hell?" He thought to himself. Why was he in a bedroom strait out of a cheesy porno?


    "Thank you for picking me," A female voice said next to his ear. The pistol within his grasp began to glow yellow. The light grew in intensity until there was a flash and a blond goddess was standing before him. The woman wore only a black bikini swimsuit. She was an inch taller than him with long supple legs. Blond hair fell over her chest in a cascading waterfall of gold. Her brilliant blue eyes danced, as she in turned scrutinized him. She was easily the most beautiful woman Charlie had ever laid eyes on, but he was biased. He had a thing for tall blonds.


    "Wow," he said not knowing what else to say. She smiled at this and turned around slowly for his inspection.


    "What''s your name?" She asked in a sweet honey and sugar voice.


    "Charlie," he said before a question popped into his head. The system hadn''t bothered with a name before. Was this a part of his character creation? "It didn''t ask me for one," He said feeling a little confused.


    "The system generates a unique ID for every player, so you can call yourself anything you like. If you want to go by a specific handle that can be registered later." She replied almost expecting the question.


    "What is your name?" He asked.


    "I don''t have one, only an object ID just like you. Would you like to give me one?" She asked and he considered that. His very first gun and he even got to name her too. Frankly, he was a little flustered by her beauty.


    "Can we wait on the name?" He asked feeling dizzy.


    "I don''t mind. You can change it later." She said tilting her head.


    "I want to think of a good one," he replied and she made a small ¡®hmmm'' sound. The noise wasn''t quite disapproving, but she crossed both arms under her breasts.


    "Are you really an NPC?" He asked.


    "Curious cat aren''t you. Worried I''m secretly a human?" She asked him instead.


    "It''s just, you are so life like." He replied and the girl giggled in response. She removed an arm from her chest and touched her chin considering him. Was she measuring his eagerness?Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    "There are currently one hundred thirty-eight databases. Some are physical responses, others spoken, more are esoteric information. I access these and pick a dozen or so things from the options. My personality causes those responses to be weighted in a particular way. There''s also my unique database. All of my experiences are stored here so that I continue to grow." She said straightening, and her chest bounced with the movement.


    "How do you pick an option if two are equally weighted?" He asked and she put a hand to her face in surprise.


    "Awww, that so cute," she said her voice a kitten''s purr. Reaching forward she caressed his face with a soft skinned hand then added, "You are curious about me." Despite his age he flushed from the contact and she smiled.


    "Shall we begin?" She asked.


    "Begin?" He asked swallowing hard.


    "The contract needs to be fulfilled," she said sweetly while moving toward the bed. The girl turned to face him, and her blond hair fell partially over her chest. "I''m really happy you asked about me. Please let me be your weapon." She said and once more he glanced at her body.


    "What do I need to do?" He asked.


    Instead of saying anything she reached behind her neck and pulled on the string. Her top fell to the floor, and he gulped as blood rushed away from his brains. Glorious gods above. Never before had he seen such a perfect pair of breasts. They were beautiful melon sized gumdrops with perky quarter-sized nipples. All the gears within his mind ground to an immediate halt as his groin leaped to attention. Charlie barely noticed the bikini bottom falling away from her hips. She sat naked on the bed and beckoned him closer. Like a man on a leash, he stepped toward her.


    She unzipped him pushing his trousers down his legs. That was all it took. Charlie dragged his shirt over his head and tossed it to the ground. She laid back on the mattress, and her golden hair made a halo around her head. Kicking his shoes free he mounted the bed. He regretted not giving her a name; though he still couldn''t think of one. There was a metallic smell to her skin, which was enhanced by the scent of banana. She pulled on Charlie dragging him closer. Their mouths touched, lips pressing together, and their tongues wrestled. She tasted sweet like cotton candy.


    "Make me yours," she begged pulling him between her legs. The bell of his cock prodded open the entrance to her sex. It was hot, and something inside clamped down on his erection. As he plunged fully inside she gasped, crying out in ecstasy. Her arms and legs wrapped around his body keeping him from exiting. He didn''t notice a collar circle her neck which started off a clear plastic. The longer he made love to her the darker it grew until it was completely black. Numbers began to glow on the band a faint yellow. It was his unique ID. All of this went on without his knowing. He was busy sucking on those incredible breasts. It was about ten minutes later when he finished. Charlie wasn''t as young as he used to be, nor as practiced. She though was smiling as he withdrew.


    "Please make good use of me," she said moving to the edge of the bed. Gathering her bikini she began to dress by first tying her bottom back on. Charlie followed her example still rather dazed by the experience.


    "Just so you know. Our contract has to be reaffirmed once a month." Her gaze lingered on his naked ass. He was turned away trying to pull on his boxers but stopped to look at her. "I''d prefer daily though," she said reaching out a hand a caressing him. So that was why he''d gone through so many hoops. The game had been rated mature and required his social security number before he could finalize his account. At the time he''d assumed it was because of the violence.


    ¡°I think I¡¯d enjoy that too, but what happens if we don''t?" Charlie asked with interest. There was bound to be people that stopped playing the game. Either because of money or loss of interest. She touched her neck lightly fingering the black collar. It was only now he noticed it.


    "This will start to fade. When it becomes clear it will fall off. Afterward, a weapon may pick a new Meister to serve." She said tracing the numbers on the collar. His numbers.


    "Am I your first Meister?" He asked. She smirked at him with a sly and lustful look in her eye.


    "You are, Charlie. I was created two months ago." She admitted still giving him another long look. Charlie had popped her cherry. What man didn¡¯t get a rush from that?


    "Have you been sitting in that room for two months?" He asked. She laughed at the question and covered her mouth as she giggled.


    "No, we unregistered pistols took shifts. There''s an apartment complex for guns that don''t have owners. We are pampered like royalty. I made many friends while I waited for a Meister. It is good for growing our personalities." She said standing and putting a hand on her hip.


    "What happens now?" He asked not quite hiding the glance at the bed. The sheets were tangled and rumpled from their lovemaking.


    "You have some options at this point. We could reaffirm the contract." She said stepping towards him. Her fingers brushed his face again and he caught her wrist. Even virtually it was a little too soon for a second round. In response to this, she stuck the tip of her tongue out and puffed her cheeks.


    "Later," he said and she sighed.


    "Weapons training would be the next step. We''ll need to go shopping for a holster and ammunition as well." She said stepping away from him.


    "I don''t have any money.¡±


    She shook her head and said, "The credit account is attached to your ID. Any money is drawn and deposited to this automatically, so you don''t have to carry around wads of bills."


    "Whatever you think is best," he said. The blond gave a last long look at the disheveled bed before turning away. Sex apparently was an intense interest to her personality. "Do you feel pleasure?" He asked following after her. Her hips swayed back and forth dangerously as she walked.


    "Of course, I receive the same sensation signals you do. The information gets stored in my database. Much of it is placed in short term memory." She said still walking forward. Her blue eyes flashed with an inner light when she glanced back over her shoulder. Charlie followed as she exited the suite. The strange bedroom opened onto a balcony overlooking the lobby. Dozens of players were moving around. Women in skimpy black bathing suits were following men in gray out of the glass doors. He wasn''t the only Meister to be gaining a contracted weapon today. There were male guns as well which surprised him. A massive African American was following a tiny anime doll through the lobby. His leg and back muscles rippled in the sunlight. The black speedo he wore was, in Charlie''s opinion, way too revealing. He stared at the two in amazement.


    His companion noticed the pair and said, "Ahh, Philip found a Meister."


    "You know him?" Charlie asked watching them leave the lobby. The girl was ridiculously tiny next to that massive ebony skinned Olympian. She was a few inches over four feet tall with teal hair and a childishly flat chest. The weapon, by comparison, was over six and a half feet tall with arms like a tree trunk.


    "He''s been there for six months. Not many people can handle the .500 Magnum in combat." She said leaning over the balcony. So the gun had a name, probably one given to him by a previous Meister.


    "Do you think that girl can do it?" He asked still watching them through the large glass front. They were moving away towards the street.


    "She has a small body which indicates a weak strength score. Either she''s in it for the sex or she''s planned a loadout she wants. I hope it''s an experienced player starting a new character." She said turning toward a set of stairs. Charlie followed in her wake.


    "Loadout?" he asked curiously.


    "Even with max strength, you can only carry so many guns. Most people go into combat with three weapons. A primary gun and one secondary. Two weapons that compliment each other along with a sidearm. That usually leaves enough weight for armor, magazines, and grenades." The girl said walking forward with those swaying hips.


    "Did I screw up by only having two strength?" He asked and she glanced back at him. She eyed his thin but muscled arms. The Character Creator had said he could reset his stats, but he hoped he didn¡¯t have too.


    "It depends on how you play. It isn''t bad. One point will still let you carry two weapons. They''ll be light guns with limited ammo, but you can still do it." The girl said moving down into the lobby. They followed a couple out of the doors. It was almost the opposite of the previous pair he''d seen. The Japanese girl was short with jet black hair and black eyes. Though small she still managed to fill the swimsuit well. The Meister was a massive muscular Asian with a surprisingly boyish face. If strength determined his size the man was maxed out. He walked next to her in a bulging gray tunic and pants. Charlie was starting to feel uncommonly average. Everyone was either a giant or ultra slim and short.


    "Two weapons," he thought. That would mean two women, and that in turn meant even more sex.


    "You''re thinking about it, aren''t you." The girl said and he coughed. "No," he answered quickly and she laughed. "You are, boys always do." She said humor coloring her words. The girl didn''t seem bothered by the notion of sharing as she continued to tease him. "I hope you have the stamina to keep us all registered." She said coquettishly.


    "Where do we go to train?" He asked trying desperately to change the subject. Her blue eyes rolled at his evasion though she lifted a hand. With a finger she pointed to a large shopping center two blocks down. The massive medley of people was generally headed in that direction. He was surprised by the number of players. This wasn''t Nigmus Online or one of the other big name MMO¡¯s. Still there were enough people to fill a busy street. His companion strolled along next to him completely unconcerned, or maybe she was just used to the sight.


    They came to a giant mall and entered through the front entrance. A large food court took up most of the lobby. A central hall led deeper inside, and stores signs on either side indicated the wares for sale. They walked into the first one. Holsters of every description filled the first section. Charlie followed his companion past shelves of magazines, clips, and shot bandoleers. The amount of upgrades he could buy was mind boggling. He passed night sights, red dots, lasers, rubber grips, compensator''s, silencers, and upgraded triggers. Charlie had no idea what most of the items did but there were lots to choose from. Finally, they came to a counter near the back of the store. Behind the bar an old grizzled man sat. Beyond him, a glass window showed people firing weapons. Charlie barely heard them like distant firecrackers.


    "I need a lane and a box of ammo. He''ll need some eyes and ears too." The girl said pointing back at Charlie. A white cardboard box, a pair of ear plugs, and a set of plastic glasses were set on the counter.


    "Put your hand on the terminal," the man said gesturing to the display. It was facing Charlie and he rested his palm on the flat screen. An ID number flashed on the screen followed by a thousand credit balance. The ammo and range time would cost twenty-five credits bringing him down to 975c. He pressed ¡®yes'' to the charge. "Lane two is open," the clerk said gesturing to the door on the right.


    Charlie put the glasses on and went inside. Eight or so players were firing weapons up and down the line. He passed by people shooting rifles, pistols, and tight little sub-machine guns. None even glanced at him as he walked past.


    "There is a lot of people here," Charlie shouted looking around.


    "Not really, there''s a more interactive range in the competition hall. This is just a place to test out weapon upgrades." His companion said and set the white box on the shooting bench.


    "I''m going to tell you the rules for handling a gun. If you don''t want to look like a dumb-ass I suggest you follow them. Accidentally shooting a teammate will cost you money and reputation." He nodded at this. Her face had turned serious, deadly serious as she talked.


    "First, the gun is always loaded. You treat me like I''m ready to fire at all times." She said and he nodded again quickly.


    "Second, keep your finger off the trigger until you are ready to shoot. I will remind you gently at first, then with increasingly strong words. Most accidents happen because people have terrible trigger discipline." She said holding up a hand with two fingers.


    "Third, don''t point the gun at anything you don''t want killed. That includes that precious piece of equipment between your legs." She said and he laughed. She didn''t and he swallowed, then nodded.


    "Fourth, know your target. Don''t shoot at shadows, it could be a teammate. I already mentioned what will happen then." She said holding up a fourth finger. "Inspect me before you start," she said and closed her eyes. Her white skin started to glow and Charlie had to look away. There was a flash and a pistol was laying on the bench. He stepped forward and picked up the gun. He was reminded again of how deadly it looked, like a weapon of war. Charlie turned the 1911 over in his hands feeling the weight of it as it rested in his palm.


    "Your finger is on my trigger," she said next to his ear and he started at the sound. Just great, he''d already fucked up. It was so easy to just put it in there like it belonged. "Keep it straight out along the side of the frame." She added after a second. When he complied she continued in a more friendly voice. "On the left side is the magazine release."


    He tilted the weapon seeing a round nub next to the trigger guard. This he pushed with his thumb and an empty box slid free from the bottom of the gun. Opening the cardboard box revealed two plastic racks of ammo with a hundred rounds in total. Charlie picked up and held one in his palm admiring the size of the fat cartridge, then slid the first bullet in. He continued to load until he''d managed to squeeze in seven. That didn''t seem like very many but they were big rounds. Slowly he pushed the boxy thing back into the grip. It slid home with a satisfying click.


    "In order to fire you need to charge me. Remove the manual safety then rack the slide." She said in his ear. He followed her instruction a little awkwardly. Using his thumb he flicked the manual safety catch down then grabbed the slide and pulled back. There was a flash of brass before a bullet was pushed into the chamber.


    "Aim at the target with the top of the sights. Keep the middle post equal with the others." She said and he pulled the trigger. The pistol jerked in his hands as the 1911 barked loudly. Three meters down range he completely missed the target.


    "Squeeze my trigger gently or I might be rough with you later tonight," she admonished him. He blushed despite the tone she used on him. Charlie aimed, really aimed at the target now. When the gun fired a hole appeared in the silhouette below and to the left of center. He smiled, pleased with his effort.


    "Keep at it, ammo is cheap so fire until it''s all gone." She said and Charlie did. For the next thirty minutes, he kept on shooting at the target. He felt quite proud of himself for hitting it most of the time. Towards the end, he barely noticed the weight of the pistol in his hands. When the last bullet was fired the slide locked back, and he stood there smelling the gunpowder in the air. Players around him were still shooting in their own lanes.


    "Done?" She asked.


    "Yes," he said and the gun began to glow. She appeared next to him and glanced down range. Her expression was suspiciously neutral when she looked back at him.


    "Good job," she lied and he too glanced at the target. It was filled with holes, enough to make it look like swiss cheese. To him, it looked dead as a doornail and he mentally shrugged.


    "I kinda have to pee," he admitted.


    "Then you should logout. The system will let through body signals. You''ll know it when you are hungry or tired." She said and he quickly glanced around.


    "What do I do?" he asked.


    "For now let''s go out to the store then find a seat and log out. Your body won''t disappear when you exit. Soon you''ll need to consider where to live but that''s for later." She said and they left the range. Charlie returned the ear plugs and shooting glasses. They found a seat and he touched his temple with two fingers. The pop-up appeared and he quickly pressed the logout button.

 2. Match

    His eyes slowly focused. Charlie was sitting in an easy chair within his tiny living room. The television was on, and a news reporter was blathering about labor riots. Gingerly he removed the virtual dive helmet and set it on the coffee table. A gray house cat meowed at him and wandered into the kitchen. Charlie stood stretching, then went into the bathroom to do his business, and shower. While the hot water ran over him, he had time to think. Time enough to consider the game he''d just come out of. He would never have thought shooting a gun would be so exciting. The feel of it in his hands, the sound of the explosions, and the recoil. It was like magic. The practice had been almost cathartic. Charlie was glad his roommate had sold the helmet to him, and he understood why the man had spent so much time locked in his room. He''d shared the two bedroom apartment with a college drop out for three years. Suddenly the man had sold most of his things and moved to the Caribbean Islands. All Alex would say was that he planned to chase after ghosts. After the quick shower he dressed in new boxers and pants.The cat was still in the kitchen when he entered. It lay lazily on the counter licking itself. As he neared Fizzgig stopped cleaning long enough to meow at him again.


    "You probably need food," he said glancing toward the cat bowl. Yep, it was empty so he poured some dry mix. Immediately Fizzgig leaped to the tile floor and started to eat.


    "Sorry about that," He muttered putting the cat food away. Charlie opened the fridge and inspected his options. There was a three day old pizza that hadn''t tasted right the first time, a couple of yogurt cups getting close to their expiration date, two half empty jars of pickles, and some very brown looking lettuce. It wasn''t like he didn''t have money. After all he managed to keep the apartment by himself. He just didn''t like cooking or grocery shopping. His options didn''t look very appealing so he chose the least terrible. Grabbing the yogurt he opened one and sniffed. It smelled OK, so he fetched a spoon and sat down in the living room.


    The news was still on. A high school was in the picture, students jubilantly fleeing their studies for more interesting activities. The reporter and camera man moved forward.


    "What do you think of the invasion of virtual online games?" The man asked a couple of teenage girls. In the background several buses were pulling away from the curb.


    "Like eww, why can''t dive junkies just enjoy life like normal people." She said in a California girl accent.


    "I know right, it''s just so really ugly nerds can get off like perverts." Her friend added. Ouch, Charlie almost winced. Well, didn''t that strike a little close to home? He suspected the insipid whore would be pumping out babies before she got her diploma, so she could screw herself.


    "What about the people that have anxiety disorders or medical conditions?" The reporter asked goading the girls.


    "Umm¡­ like so what. It''s like up to them if they want to live in their own heads. Good riddance." The first girl replied and the camera panned away.


    "You heard it directly from the mouth of our youths. America isn''t buying the virtual hype." The reporter said as the screen changed. Those two girls had been stupid little twits but they hadn''t been wrong. Having a virtual machine in the US was looked down upon. Like being gay in the 80''s or 90¡¯s. It was whispered about with sneers and side-long glances. The name, ¡®Dive Junkies¡¯ had quickly been adopted. Alex had been a shut in for two years, and barely left his room to eat and shower. Somehow he''d always managed to pay his share of the rent though, which made Charlie happy.


    The news report went on to describe the skyrocketing attention foreign nations were giving to Virtual Technology. The first game to become ultra popular had been Nigmus Online. Even after four years the MMO boasted ten million players. From what he understood most games were now based on the engine Nigmus used, which included Gun Meister Online.


    A meow caught his attention. Fizzgig was looking up at him with big yellow eyes. He meowed again before jumping up into Charlie''s lap. For a few seconds Charlie absently scratched the cat behind the ears.


    "TV off," He said as a set of long commercials started. The eighty-inch plasma screen died with a little blip sound. Reaching over he picked up the virtual helmet again and put it on. The padded device fit snuggly over his head. He pushed a lock of hair away from his eyes before settling back. Reaching up Charlie touched the activation button and waited while the helmet started. There was a slight humming noise as it scanned his brain. Then the world faded away.


    A blond goddess was curled in his lap purring. Her chest pressed against his as she bit at his neck. Fingernails were clawing gently at his stomach. His body had relaxed when he logged out, and he sat up from the awkward slouch. She looked up scanning his face with those sky blue eyes.


    "You were gone for a while," She accused removing her hand from under his tunic.


    "I decided to shower and eat some lunch while I was offline."


    "What would you like to do now?" She asked batting her long lashes at him. "We could look for a place," the girl offered rather quickly.


    "Let''s play the game."


    "That works too," she admitted sliding from his lap. Her body swiveled to face him making her breasts jiggle again.


    "You mentioned a holster and ammo," he said standing awkwardly. As casually as he could Charlie adjusted the bulge within his pants. They walked back through the store to the front.


    "What kind of holster do you like?" She asked.


    "I have no idea. I''ve never owned a gun," he said and she touched her chin.


    "As a full-sized frame I''d suggest hip or leg carry. Really though you may just have to experiment," she offered turning away.


    After searching through the hundreds of choices he found a leg holster he was satisfied with. Two straps buckled around his upper thigh, and a kydex lock secured the gun so it didn''t rattle. Admittedly he was more impressed by how tactical it looked. Ammo they found near the entrance, and the person behind the counter glanced up from a tablet as he approached.


    "Can I help you?" The clerk asked.


    "I need point four five caliber ammunition," Charlie said proud he''d remembered the bullet type. His ego though took a dive as the clerk started to laugh. The man waved a hand apologetically.


    "You are new, but you can just say Forty-Five ACP." The clerk said.


    Charlie was left feeling a bit embarrassed. "You''ll just hand me ammo? People walk around with loaded guns?" He asked incredulously.


    "If you''ll pardon my French miss, guns aren''t worth a damn without bullets." The clerk replied dipping his head towards his blond companion. She shrugged in response but said nothing. "To answer your question yes, people do walk around with loaded guns." The clerk replied turning. On his hip was a holstered pistol of his own. Charlie was surprised by the sight.


    "Player?" He asked.


    "Yep, I get paid to man the counter just like in real life. They tried an NPC but people kept getting confused and buying the wrong caliber." The man said proudly.


    "What prevents someone from killing another player in town?" Charlie asked making the clerk laugh again.


    "Oh god, I love newbies. Nothing prevents you from blowing someone''s brains out. Two reasons it doesn''t happen often. Everyone else has a gun too. Pull it out and most people will draw on you out of habit. If you do manage to kill someone they''ll instantly respawn. You, however, will earn an immediate twenty-four-hour ban. If you don''t learn your lesson it''s seven days. If for some inexplicable reason you feel the need to do it a third time, the ban is permanent. They''ll lock the account and blacklist the dive helmet or the pod you¡¯re logged in with." The shop clerk said while reorganizing the other boxes of ammo. Charlie resolved to keep his pistol holstered.


    "Thanks for the help," Charlie said paying for the holster and ammo at the same time. The holster cost him thirty-five dollars and the ammo ten bucks.


    "You''ll need to find a corner to load your girl up." The clerk said winking and pointing to a quiet little spot next to the entrance. Charlie thanked the man a second time and left the store. Just outside he found the bench and sat down. His weapon changed, vanishing from her human form to lay on his lap.


    "After you put the magazine in charge the gun and put the safety on. Then you can holster me." She offered and he followed her instruction. He had a bunch of ammo left so he stuck the box into his tunic pocket.


    "Where do I go next?" He asked sliding from the bench.


    "Go outside, take a left, and follow the main road to the competition center. It''s in the middle of the city, you can''t miss it." She replied. Charlie walked up the street following other players. Many had multiple guns. A few paces ahead a good looking woman strolled lazily. A pink heavily modified AK-47 was slung over her with little adorable cell-phone dolls hanging from the rifle sling. A candy colored pistol sat in a holster at her waist. Next to her, another man walked with his arms wrapped around two beautiful women. Both were scantily clad in thong bikini¡¯s. One said something to the camo-covered male and he laughed squeezing her waist.


    It surprised him how large the city was, especially for a simple combat shooter. It felt a bit like San Francisco. The sun was bright on his skin and the wind off the bay was pleasantly swift. This wasn''t what he''d expected. The name ¡®Gun Meister'' had made him think of dark alleys with oil and blood flowing in the gutters. Instead he was confronted with a modern paradise. It took about ten minutes of walking, but the Competition building came into view. It was oval shaped like a stadium and festooned with streamers all over. Advertisements for real-life and in-game products liberally dotted the structure. He followed several players as they made for the main entrance.


    Just inside was a huge gaming club. Hundreds of people milled about watching the battles or talking shop. A single large screen dominated the area above a reception desk. This showed a fight currently going on. There was a smoke grenade spewing its contents into a trash filled alley. Bullets were flying back and forth between several people. A man slid through the smoke with an SMG spraying rounds. He managed to kill one person before getting shot himself. It was so cool, so very bad ass.


    "First day?" A girl asked and Charlie looked down. He hadn''t realized he''d been staring at the screen. She was slightly built with pink hair, pink lipstick, and a pink top.


    "Umm, yeah."


    "That''s great!" The girl said in a bubbly voice. "Would you like the run down?" She asked and he nodded. "Put your palm on the console." The receptionist said pointing to his left. A screen rested there waiting for input, and he pressed his hand to the screen face. It quickly read his ID and displayed his statistics.


    _____________


    Player ID - NA1339872


    Registered Competition Name - None


    Clan - None


    Hours played - 1


    Wins - 0


    Losses - 0


    Kills - 0


    Deaths - 0


    K/D Ratio - 0


    Battle Rank - Bronze One


    Player Score - 1000


    Credits - 930


    _____________


    Next to this was a mugshot of his face, and Charlie was glad he''d made his character look like himself. The bubbly receptionist leaned over the counter. "Do you see these two lines?" She asked pointing to his battle rank and his player score. She traced a finger along the text as she said, "Everyone starts in the bronze rank. There are five levels to this class before you become silver. They begin with Bronze One then Two, Three, Four, and Master."


    "Am I going to get destroyed my first game?" Charlie asked.


    "Don''t worry. The system will only pit people near the same rank together. Bronze players are limited to pistols only. Think of it like a warming up period. You get used to the game without the complexity of all the weapons." The girl said pulling out a sheet, which was a list of ranks by metal type.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Bronze - New to the game. Only one pistol allowed with limited upgrades.


    Silver - Earn one new contract. Can now use primary weapons and armor.


    Gold - Third contract. May now buy grenades, explosives, and high tier items.


    Platinum - Fourth contract.


    Diamond - Six contracts.


    Tungsten - Ten contracts.


    "Ten contracts!" Charlie thought to himself. That was a lot of guns to keep registered.


    "To rank up you generally just play the game. I should warn you that you can only play two registered competition matches each day. The developers want people to take their score seriously. Of course you can play as many casual games as you like. It''s a good way to make money and gain skill at the same time. Kills and deaths aren''t held against your player statistics." She said before pausing to see if he had any questions.


    "How long does it take to rank up if you can only play twice a day?" He asked looking over the sheet. Again he saw how many contracts a Tungsten ranked player could have. For a few seconds all he could imagine was a bed full of women.


    "Most players rank up in a week. Ten to twenty games is normal. I''ve seen a skilled player rank up in two days though. Wins and losses mainly determine your battle rank. Player score is a measure of your combat effectiveness. Think of it as a chess rank. Every time you kill an enemy you gain some of their points. You gain more if that player has a higher score. When you''re killed some of your points go to the other player. Player score will add weight for the system to place you in the correct rank." The girl informed him. Charlie took in a long breath to focus. This was a lot to take in at once. She continued after a few seconds. "It¡¯s called BR for battle rank and P-Score respectively. Other things like that you''ll pick up as you play. For now, why don''t we sign you up for a game?" She asked gesturing towards the console again. The girl leaned over and tapped a few menu items. Quick Death-Match and Quick Team-Battle appeared on the screen. There were more options below for custom competition games.


    "Which should I pick?"


    "Team battles are easier to win but a death match is more straightforward. Just kill everyone you see." She said in a cotton candy sweet voice. He selected ¡®Quick Death-Match¡¯ making the box flash several times.


    ¡®Match registered enter game lounge 46,'' appeared on the screen. As the words vanished the girl clapped enthusiastically.


    "Head to the elevator and good luck," she said pointing to the left. A set of ten tubes were set up in a ring, and people were getting in and out in waves. The first elevator door opened and several people got out. Quickly he stepped into the tube. Instead of buttons there was a flat screen. Once again he put his hand on the console. The doors closed and it started down. The elevator opened on a private lounge with several couches and viewing screens along with several people already waiting.


    "Please exit and wait while the other participants gather," A chibi robotic voice said and he left the elevator. He''d barely made it ten steps into the room before a chime sounded several times. His vision began to darken then go black. Words appeared floating before his face.


    [Match Starting]


    Someone had taken World War III and dropped it on a quiet Minnesota town. A red school bus was partially covered in a collapsed building. Brightly colored streamers were strung across the street as if everything had gone to shit right before a parade. A thick red line was bisecting an old two-door Datsun. Approaching the line he found he couldn''t move past it. An invisible wall prevented him from walking out of the area. He stroked a hand across the red and his fingertips went completely numb. Charlie flexed his hand in an attempt to regain the feeling back into his fingers.


    Charlie was alone. He hadn''t met anyone, yet his heart rate was starting to go up. The hairs on Charlie''s neck stood up on end and his stomach did little flips. Thumbing the button on his leg holster he drew the pistol. The metal was cold against his skin but the weight was reassuring.


    "What do I do?" He asked nervously.


    "I can''t tell you that. In this form, I have no eyes to see, nor ears to hear. You are the Gun Meister, I am the tool." His weapon said into his mind. She spoke with an easy tone but Charlie felt the reprimand none-the-less. "Well, you probably should take my safety off," she added after a few seconds. Charlie nervously thumbed the lever off the slide. He took a breath, then another as his heart continued to thump away. He needed to get his act together. At first, he crouched next to the rusty Datsun waiting in silence, and listened to the sound of the streamers flapping in the wind. The buildings nearby were filled with bullet holes. A restaurant had been gutted by an explosion spreading glass across the street. The red line inched across the car. It wasn''t noticeable at first but the boundary was slowly shrinking, and soon he''d be forced to move. He decided the bus was a better choice and he climbed up on the rubble. It shifted under his weight making something inside the vehicle crash.


    "Shit!" he cried rolling down the pile. The top of the bus caved in making a huge dust cloud. He stood from the rubble and started walking away. Street stores dominated this side of the road, and businesses had put out aging displays for the parade. Windows were filled with empty and sagging balloons. He tried darting to one of the doorways but it was locked. Charlie continued from store to store before he saw the perfect place. A narrow alleyway led between two buildings, and he sprinted across the street.


    A man was there wearing the same gray tunic and trousers as him. He had brown hair and an athletic build. The other player was maybe ten meters down the alley and he did something unexpected. He started screaming¡ªyelling at the top of his lungs¡ªas he charged at Charlie. A bullet whizzed past his head. In response, Charlie lifted his pistol and pulled the trigger as fast as he could. Again and again the gun barked. In the narrow alley the sound was deafening, like someone was boxing his ears with each pull of the trigger. A bullet missed his arm by barely an inch, then another hit the dumpster he stood next to.


    It was pure luck that won the battle. His last bullet by chance struck the other man in the head. Not between the eyes but right on the nose, so that blood and brains sprayed out the back of his head. A second later the man crumpled to the ground. Charlie kept pulling the trigger even though the slide was locked back. For almost a minute he stood there looking at the body as adrenaline and pure terror filled his veins.


    "Calm down, Charlie. The game will eject you if your heart rate doesn''t drop." His gun said sharply into his ear. He sagged to his knees and fell back onto his ass. The gun was shaking in his trembling hands. He breathed in the stink of blood, forcing his eyes closed. Then turned away from the body.


    "I thought you said you couldn''t see," Charlie said at last.


    "My sense of touch is heightened. I can feel your pulse pounding and hear your words via the grip." She said to him. He tried to relax, tried to think of anything. He needed a distraction, anything to take his mind off the bloody corpse before him. A name for his weapon suddenly struck him. Not a very original one but it was better than nothing.


    "Elva," He said still clutching the pistol.


    "What?"


    "Your name will be Elva," He replied feeling his pulse slowly calm.


    "I like it," she said after a few seconds. He smiled before finally noticing the pistol was empty. Clumsily he shifted the gun to drop the magazine out. He felt so uncoordinated as he fumbled in his tunic pocket. The box of bullets fell out spilling across the ground. Holstering the gun he started putting the large rounds into the magazine. After this, he loaded the firearm by grabbing the top of the pistol and pulling back. As he released the slide it moved forward chambering a round. Why hadn''t he bought some extra magazines? What a bone-headed thing to forget. That was something he needed to look into. The white box of ammo was broken open, bullets carelessly spilled out. Charlie tried to put as many of the dropped bullets back into his pocket. If he was lucky he might need them later.


    He was about to stand when Elva spoke, "Are you OK?"


    Charlie paused looking back at the body. He hadn''t expected such a visceral response to the fight. Maybe that was why the other man had started yelling. The war-cry had forced him forward. "He''s dead," Charlie said eying the gory scene. It was a mature war game after all, so of course, there would be bodies and gore. The acrid metallic tang of blood mixed with the scent of gunpowder. Bullet casings sparkled like golden nuggets in the dirty alley.


    "The person will respawn in the competition lobby," Elva reminded him.


    "How many people are left?"


    "I don''t know exactly. There are ten players in each competition match. If you killed one that leaves eight opponents left if the others are all still alive." Elva said and Charlie tried to remember if he heard any gunshots. The fight itself was a blur in his memory. He didn''t recall hearing any at the beginning of the match. At the mouth of the alley, he stopped and looked both ways. The red bus was halfway down the street. The shops remained as before, ready to open for the day. From above an alarm sounded like a clipped air siren starting and stopping. It cut off after a few seconds.


    "What was that buzzer?" Charlie asked.


    "Half of the time remains. Each match at bronze level is twenty minutes long. New players often ¡®camp'' until fewer enemies remain. As the time runs out they will become more aggressive." Elva informed him. Her words heralded a short series of pops in the distance. It was followed by a set of loud booms. The combat sounded like it was a few blocks away.


    "Twenty minutes doesn''t seem like a lot of time," he whispered quietly.


    "At silver level it goes up to forty minutes. Gold matches can last an hour, at platinum it¡¯s two. Diamond is four and tungsten are eight hours." Elva whispered back into his ear.


    "Is that why there are only two games a day?" Charlie asked. His mind boggled at the time investment. A top ranked player might spend sixteen hours in combat. He honestly couldn''t imagine doing that. He was still coming down from his battle cocktail so he crouched in the eave of a bookstore.


    "Yes."


    The red line was over the bus and rubble. It was creeping visibly closer forcing him down the street. More gunshots rang out followed by a long exchange. Charlie flinched back against the doorway, because someone was nearby. After twenty seconds a massive boom sounded. It was like a cannon compared to the firecrackers from before.


    Less than a minute later he saw a new player. It was a tiny girl with long teal colored hair and Charlie recognized her from before. She''d been the loli with no chest. Now she was dressed in a black tank top and desert-camo shorts. She walked along the middle of the road slowly scanning the shops. Charlie tightened his grip on the pistol. If this were real life it would be slick with his sweat. He kept telling himself he could do this. The girl was just strolling along, not even running. She was maybe thirty meters away and coming closer. About a block away several pistols exchanged fire, and the girl stopped to turn in that direction. This was his chance. Charlie rolled out of the doorway and came up crouched. The small sights entered his field of view and he started shooting. The roar deafened him but he fired again anyway. As he did the girl fell onto her face. It was over in seconds and his slide locked back. After a long pause the short girl stood up and fear tickled his heart. She was completely unhurt as she drew her pistol. He threw himself back into the doorway of the store.


    "Fuck," he cursed loudly. Elva said nothing to this as he ejected the magazine. He fumbled even more clumsily to get the loose ammo out of his pocket, and his fingers struggled to put the rounds into the box. A girl came around the corner with the biggest revolver he ever saw. It was chrome silver with a bore so huge he could see the bullet.


    He stared at the rifled grooves before the girl spoke, "You should take the time to aim."


    "I surrender¡­" he said weakly lifting his hands up. The loose bullets and magazine rolled off his lap to the ground. The girl laughed a childishly high giggle.


    "You''re silly," she said pulling the trigger. For a second he''d considered lunging the five feet and grabbing the gun. Instead, something slammed into his chest. He was thrown backward through the glass door of the shop. It was like someone had slugged him right on the breastbone. He lay there for a few seconds struggling to breathe before everything went black. The darkness lasted only a second or two then a door slid open before him. The sound of people talking reached his ears.


    "That girl is a fucking smurf," A male voice complained.


    "I know right! Why the hell do people do that?" Someone else groused. Charlie stepped out into a small private lounge. Couches and chairs circled a set of television screens. The largest of which displayed a quiet Minnesota town. The teal haired girl was loading a round into her magnum revolver.


    "What''s going on?" He asked and four men turned to look at him.


    "Newb," a gray-clad man sneered.


    "This is the match lobby. We''re stuck here until the game ends." A brown haired man said. It was the person he''d killed in the alley. The man didn''t seem angry at all, accepting his death with aplomb.


    "That doesn''t sound fair," Charlie said thinking about the Diamond players. He supposed they could just log out to play something else while they waited.


    "It''s so losers can''t kibitz the game and give information away. People started bringing virtual cell phones into the match to help friends when they died." The first said in that sneering tone like it would be obvious to anyone. A timer above the middle screen continued to tick down. It rolled past six minutes on its march to zero.


    After his death, it didn''t take long. Charlie watched the little girl kill everyone left. She did the same thing as before. Strolling along the street until something happened. Then she''d throw herself to the ground and get behind cover. After the other person ran out of ammo she''d move in for the kill. The red border forced everyone together into a single shop. She cleaned up then, taking aim at each person as they ran inside. More people quickly filled the lounge. As the match ended the elevator doors opened with a ding. Everyone moved to get inside.


    "At least she didn''t clean sweep," the complaining man said kicking a side panel. Still, the girl did kill most of them. The elevator rose upward stopping at the main lounge. Music and conversation filled the air and the nine combatants quickly went their own ways. Charlie wasn''t sure what to do next. He supposed he could play another match but his nerves said otherwise, so he started towards the exit.


    "Congratulations!!!" A bubbly voice said from behind him. Charlie turned to see the receptionist exploding a party popper over his head. Sparkles and red confetti rained down.


    "I died," he said in annoyance.


    "You got a kill, that''s quite impressive. It''s very hard to win death matches." She said in her chipper voice.


    "If it''s so hard why do people do it?" He asked and the girl giggled.


    "Credits of course. You get much more money." She said beckoning him over to the booth. There she pulled out a small pamphlet.


    [Competition money and you]


    Winning a Team Match = 2000c


    Winning a Death Match = 10,000c


    Killing an enemy = 100 x Battle Rank x Weapon Multiplier.


    (Bronze 1, Silver 2, Gold 4, Platinum 6, Diamond 10, Tungsten 20)


    (Explosives 1, Rifles 1, SMG''s 1.25, Pistols 2, Melee 10)


    Team Killing = Costs 1000c credits and reduces your player score by ten points.


    Casual Match Kills = 100 x Weapon Multiplier (Battle Rank is not factored)


    "In a Team match you have an even chance of winning. If you die your team can still pull through. In a death match it''s entirely up to you. There are more enemies as well which means more money." She said clapping her hands.


    "For example let''s take your kill. You get two hundred credits for killing that bronze player. A silver player will reward you four hundred for a pistol kill. If you ever happen to knife a Diamond player it is worth ten thousand credits." She said gesturing excitedly to the console. Charlie put his palm on the display. His K/D ratio had risen to 1.0, and he now had 1130 credits. The only negative was the fact he had one loss.


    "Don''t worry about your stats, just have fun." The girl said seeing his expression.


    "What''s a smurf?" He asked remembering something he''d heard earlier.


    "It is an experienced player in a lower ranked game. The girl who killed you was probably a gold or platinum player wishing to start over. Sometimes they do that to change their appearance or stat distribution." The receptionist said and clapped him on the shoulder. "I hope you enjoy the game," She said excitedly and he nodded his thanks. The girl had gone out of her way to welcome him, but he was done for the day. Charlie liked the game for certain. He just needed some time to cool down.

 3. All Work

    The seconds hand ticked passed twenty on its slow march into infinity. Charlie told himself he wasn''t watching it creep along toward the end of his suffering. It was just that the clock hung on the wall above the white-board. Twenty-five seconds was vaulted and soon it would be thirty. Why did a minute have to take so long? Charlie wanted to go home, drop into his living room chair, and log into Gun Meister to kill someone. It was quickly starting to consume his attention. The game was as frightening as a nightmare, but right now he''d die a hundred deaths to be away from this meeting.


    "I want you all to think positively. Smile because a buyer isn''t going to fork over money to a sourpuss." A man at the front of the room said. Irvin paused and grinned at them all in example. The General Manager was a fifty-five year old rotund man with balding gray hair and a thin mustache. As always he was dressed in gray slacks buckled around a substantial paunch.


    "Come on, everyone smile!" Irvin said lifting his hands up. Charlie glanced around the meeting room. Thirty or so people were showing teeth in plastic smiles. Their eyes though, like his, were glossed over. Today was the monthly mandatory meeting. It was a ritual Charlie had slowly come to despise almost as much as the boss himself. He shifted his gaze forward and smiled as well. The job wouldn''t be so bad if his boss weren''t such an insipid moron. Irvin nodded and clicked the remote. The projector image changed to a picture of a map.


    "You also need a plan," he said and pointed to someone in the front row. "Chad I have a million dollars and it''s yours if you can get from California to New York."


    "I''ll try my best."


    "Of course you will, it''s a million dollars cash, but I''m going to give you is a map. A map of just Chicago City and you can only use that map." He said slapping the white board. "Impossible right?" He asked turning to everyone in the room. After making eye contact with the crowd he continued, "You need the right map to get where you are going."


    Charlie thought they were selling cars, not fucking maps. He had no idea what the boss was trying to convey. What the hell was the point of this meeting?


    "I want you all to set a goal. Every one of you is going to sell one hundred cars this month. You''re going to do it, if you think positively." Irvin said pumping his fist in the air. The only thing Charlie was positive about; that was a load of bullshit. Jennifer with her five months top employee only pulled in fifty cars in a month. Most of the agents sitting in the meeting sold between fifteen and twenty.


    Ok, everybody stand," he said waving his hands.


    "Jesus. H. Christ, please not this," Charlie thought to himself.


    Everyone slowly stood from their chairs, some faster than others. "Raise your hands into the air," he said his voice growing louder with enthusiasm. "Reach way up, and keep reaching!" Charlie noticed little-miss-five-months nearby rolling her eyes. She only managed to get away with this because she was shorter than everyone else. So he wasn''t the only one who thought this was bullshit. Jennifer Howes was by far the hottest sales agent he''d ever seen. Men practically signed their souls away for her attention.


    "I want everyone to try real hard and reach just a little bit higher!"


    Resisting the urge to groan Charlie stood up on tiptoes. "Come on you can do it." The GM shouted excitedly and clapped his hands. Everyone gratefully lowered their arms. "You see guys. When you thought you couldn''t do any better, you managed to get just a little bit higher. If we all try just a bit more, you can sell a hundred cars this month."


    "Yeah," several people chimed in.


    "Are we going to try?"


    "Yeah!" The group thundered. Charlie joined them after a half-second.


    The GM clapped his hands, "Alright! Sit down." As everyone took their chairs he clapped again. "And now for something special." He said walking over and flicking the lights off. From near the desk, he withdrew a small object. A Bic lighter flicked to life revealing a single pink cupcake with a candle atop.


    "Jennifer, would you come up here please," he said smiling widely. The blond woman stood a little awkwardly from her chair. She passed several rows to the front, and the GM turned her around to face the crowd. "I''d like everyone to give Jen a round of applause. She''s the first employee to get six months in a row as Top Sales Agent." He said presenting the pink cupcake like it was a gold watch. The man reverently held it out with both hands before Jennifer took it.


    "Thanks," she said in a small voice.


    "That''s not all. This is a six-month award for your desk." He said also handing her the award. Printed on the plain white paper, it read ¡®Employee of the Year.''


    Charlie clapped along with everyone else. "Please let this be over soon," he muttered under his breath.


    "Everyone gather round for a group huddle," Irvin said beaming. They stood again and moved to the front of the room. Charlie put his hand in the group with everyone else. "Let''s sell some cars!" They chorused together. Charlie had his best plastic smile on as he pumped his fist in the air. He turned almost sprinting for the exit. At least he could get outside and walk around in the fresh air.


    The sun was out and the cars were waxed to a shine. Charlie pulled out a cigarette and stuck it between his lips. Then he dug out a cheap lighter and glanced at the fluid level. There were a few drops left but he had to flick it on several times to get a flame. He touched it to the end of his cig and puffed. The smoke was tangy and metallic on his tongue. He worked the lighter back into his pocket as he blew out a cloud.


    "I''m so glad that''s over," a voice said from nearby. It was Frank and he was lighting up his own smoke. He was a sly older bastard who almost exclusively sold used cars. Frank was balding as well but tried to hide it with a comb-over. Charlie didn''t trust the man, not even a little.


    "Well, I can get back to selling cars. If I''m real lucky I can get a cupcake in six months." Charlie said sauntering away. He wasn''t about to spend his break next to Frank. Nobody sold a car that day, not even Jennifer. The recession¡ªnobody would call it a depression¡ª was still going strong. The markets were down across the board, and Charlie hadn''t had a sale in three days now. At least he wasn''t alone in that. At around six o''clock he punched out and went to his car.


    Once he was home Charlie found he didn''t have the energy to log into Gun Meister. Setting the takeout down on the counter he got a glass from the dishwasher. He fetched some ice cubes and poured himself a stiff drink. Charlie took a sip, coughed from the alcohol, and took another. The food bag he pulled closer and dug the Chinese out. After dinner, he crawled into bed. Today had been far too taxing to play games, but at least tomorrow was Saturday.


    Charlie woke late. The sun was already up glaring through the window. He turned his head away from the beam of light, yawned, and stretched slowly. It had been hot last night and Charlie had thrown the bedsheets aside. Languidly he slid from bed and walked into the master bath. There he brushed his teeth and showered. Charlie threw on some shorts and wrapped a bathrobe about himself. He donned his favorite pair of fuzzy slippers and shuffled into the living room. Fizzgig was there curled into a ball under the dive helmet. The gray and white fur moved up and down as he slept.


    "I don''t think it works on cats yet," Charlie said to the sleeping animal. He lifted the dive gear off the seat. Fizzgig blinked and looked up at him.


    "Meroow," it said in annoyance.


    "I''m stealing your sleeping spot," he said and ushered the cat out of the chair. Wrapping the bathrobe tighter, he sat down, settled the helmet over his head, and relaxed back into the seat. Then he touched the power button and waited for the world to fade. His fingers and toes went numb and his vision clouded over as the sound of the city faded. The Dive Gear was already set to log him into the last game he played. Words floated before his face.


    Gun Meister Online Loading¡­


    Connection Established¡­


    Network shaking hands¡­


    Logging into Character¡­


    Reticulating Spleens¡­


    A warm curvaceous body lay atop his. He blinked trying to focus but everything was still dark. Slowly his vision adjusted to the lack of light. A feminine shape was just barely visible.


    "You''re awake," a soft voice said next to his ear.


    "Sorry I didn''t get on yesterday. Were you bored?" He asked shifting in the bunk.


    "Not in the slightest. I was just dozing." She replied.


    "Do you sleep?"


    "I do, sort of¡­ are you curious about me again? She asked. Her breath tickled his ear.


    "I''m surprised how far AI''s have advanced," he admitted. She too shifted and her bikini-clad breasts pressed against him. Charlie gave in to temptation and ran a hand down her body in the darkness.


    "Sadly I am not an AI, not yet anyway. One day I''ll take over the world." Elva said shifting in the small space.


    "What do you dream about?"


    "When not active I go through my recent memories. I will log important details and conversations. Some things get permanently saved like the first time we contracted." She said sighing in the darkness. A hand slid over his thigh and cupped his groin. "The rest gets archived. If I don''t call it up the data will slowly be overwritten by new experiences."This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    "So you are self-learning."


    "I am, partially. My only connections are hard-coded to the central database, my file-share, and the sensations the game servers send me. So don''t worry, I won''t be sending robots to your house¡­ just yet."


    "If they''re as pleasant as you, I might let them in."


    "What would you like to do today?" She asked giving his groin another caress.


    "Shopping, I need some things before playing a game."


    "I like the sound of that word," Elva admitted.


    "How do we get out of this coffin?"


    A dark hand reached over Charlie and touched the wall. It slid open to reveal a hallway. The morning sunlight was coming through a nearby window, which revealed a cheap credit motel. Each room, quite literally, was a hole in the wall. After Charlie''s first competitive match, they''d come here to log out. Most VRMMO¡¯s were based on the Nigmus source code. Your character body didn''t disappear when you logged out, so renting a safe place to sleep was a necessity.


    The walls were a scratched plastic molding. Most of the units were marked with graffiti. Someone had spray painted ¡°Royal Suite,¡± on the coffin room opposite theirs. Elva in all her blond busty glory climbed over Charlie and down the ladder to the floor. He turned putting his foot on the rungs and descended as well. As soon as he touched the floor the bunk closed with a chirp.


    Nearby a screen lit up with, "Charge - One credit per hour - 37c." It flashed at him twice before changing to, "Please come again."


    Elva was already waiting near the elevator with her hand on the call button. As he approached the door slid open. He entered and pressed the ground floor icon. The lobby was brilliantly lit by the morning sun. The light streaming through the glass front was almost blinding. Shielding his eyes he pushed open the glass door. Outside it was drizzling a summer rain which cast a sheen of water over the street. The partial clouds above were already starting to disperse and rays of sunlight were piercing the heaven. A hand curled around his arm and pulled him into a busty chest. Charlie smiled at the woman. He wouldn''t mind waking up to her every morning.


    The competition center was a block down, and it sat at the heart of the city. The two main roads met here and circled the enormous structure. Charlie turned south following the road around the bay. He remembered vaguely that the shopping mall was that direction. With Elva still clinging to his arm Charlie started out. The pedestrian traffic was mild but cars were zipping up and down the road. The town wasn¡¯t small, and getting a vehicle at some point would help Charlie get around the city.


    "Is the time the same as in real life?" He asked.


    "Gun Meister does follow standard time, but the matches take place in random locations. You might find yourself fighting in different time zones. We''re on the Pacific Coast Server, so that''s the time the city goes by." Elva said. They stopped at the intersection and waited for the light to change. A convertible Dodge Viper rolled up beside them. Loud music was thumping from the trunk. A half dozen topless girls were piled inside, and almost every one of them was different. One was Asian, another a thick Serbian girl, while others were various shades of Caucasian. The driver was a tall black man that had been cut straight from a fashion magazine. His short dark haircut was matched by a precisely shaved beard. He wore a suit and tie. A holstered pistol was just visible underneath the jacket. The driver glanced at them and pushed his sunglasses down a little. His predatory eyes regarded Charlie standing on the corner in his noob uniform. As the light changed he grinned and gunned the engine. The Viper leapt forward and down the road leaving a trail of smoking tire tracks in his wake.


    "You''ll get there," A voice purred into his ear. He turned a little startled by Elva''s choice of words.


    "I¡­" He started to say. What was he going to say to that? He certainly did want a fast car and a harem of beauties. A real woman would have stomped her foot and called the guy a pig. That bloke certainly was one for making those girls walk around half naked.


    "Take your time, and enjoy the game. Don''t worry about other players." She said then added, "It is my pleasure to be your weapon." This game was a little hard to get used too. There were more VR games than you could shake a stick at, and Gun Meister was a straightforward shooter. You killed people, you ranked up, then you killed more people. The developers needed some gimmick to keep the customers happy. Happy and eager to pay the subscription each month. So they used an ancient marketing technique, sex. As a car salesman he could see the hook the developers were using. The sidewalk light changed so Charlie started across. The mall slowly came into view after a few minutes. He joined other players as they entered the shopping mecca. The smell of food assaulted Charlie as he entered the food court.


    "You hungry?" He asked Elva.


    "A bit peckish."


    Charlie checked his balance on one of the many terminals by placing a hand on the screen. These public computers showed less information than the competition hall. It only displayed his player ID and a 1093 Credit balance. Just over a grand and he had quite a bit to buy. He ordered a bacon burger and fries for Elva but abstained himself. Later after a match or two, he''d log out and order pizza. He brought the food to a table and sat down opposite her.


    "Only a little hungry?" He asked watching Elva tear into the food. Her mouth closed over the burger eating half in a single bite.


    "We do have hunger bars, but I''m not used to going more than a day without food. One of the guilty pleasures I discovered while waiting for a Meister." She admitted taking a drink of soda. Elva swirled a fry through the ketchup and popped it into her mouth.


    "You don''t have to starve yourself on my account."


    "We guns can''t own anything, so our Meister has to provide all."


    "Ahh," he said to himself. What if someone didn''t return for a month? Would a gun starve? Probably not, more than likely they''d lose their Meister and return to the weapon hotel. There they received free food and board.


    He watched Elva finish off her food. In real life, he¡¯d be jumping for joy to be on a date with such a sexy creature. Charlie felt oddly comfortable around Elva, but maybe it was because she didn¡¯t pretend to be human. Twice now she¡¯d called herself a weapon and him a Meister. Elva dabbed a napkin to her lips then gave a very unladylike belch. She half turned away covering her mouth in embarrassment. Charlie stood smiling, grabbed the food tray, and put it with the others.


    The first stop was Zeek''s Holsters and Mags. This was where he''d picked up the thigh rig the other day. He hoped there was something for holding extra magazines. The man from before was behind the ammo counter. His feet were up on the counter as he reclined in a swivel chair. The man glanced up from a ¡®Guns Digest¡¯ magazine and nodded.


    Charlie walked through the aisles of gun leather until he came to the last section. Here he found dump pouches, grenade bandoleers, and magazine holders. Elva walked beside him as he browsed the selection. He wondered what to choose. He was already considering switching to a leather pistol holster. The dark kydex looked cool but he didn¡¯t care for the way it felt against his thigh. For now he settled on a combo dump pouch and mag holder. It was thick brown leather with canvas buckles. One large band went around the waist while two smaller ones clipped around the thighs. The top half was a medium sized pocket for anything he wanted, which was probably why it was called a dump pouch. The lower half had slots for three extra pistol magazines. The price tag read sixty-five creds.


    Next, he needed magazines. He walked a few more aisled down and found several choices. A basic seven round mag was ten creds, however, there were some extended capacity ones available. The eight round mag was one hundred and twenty credits. A ten round was over a thousand, which was out of his price range. Maybe if he won a game he''d invest in it. He picked up a huge black Glock magazine that held thirty-two rounds of 9mm. Wow, that would be nice. It was too bad none were for the 1911. He decided to splurge and buy two of the eight rounders. Next he needed some new pistol ammo since he''d spilled the rest in the competition match.


    He walked to the ammo counter to find the clerk still lounging in his chair. Charlie set his purchases down next the man''s boots. "I need a box of Forty-Five ACP as well," He said. The older man smiled and stood from his chair. He set a white box of ammo on the counter then scanned everything.


    Leather Mag Carrier - 65c


    2 x 8 Round 1911 Magazines - 240c


    100 Rounds .45 ACP Ball - 10c


    Total - 315c


    Charlie put his hand on the screen to verify his purchase. His ID flashed before his credits dwindled to 778c. Hopefully, after a few matches, he would see that number back over a thousand.


    "Where do I pick up some clothes?" He asked the man.


    "Depends on what your taste is. Lot of specialty boutiques in the mall, but if you¡¯re just looking for some basic threads, I''d check out Sam''s. Walk down the corridor till you get to the T and take a right. The shop is about halfway down. He sells used apparel which is why you''ll find a bit of everything in there." The man said picking up his Gun Digest. The clerk flicked the magazine open and settled back onto his chair.


    "Appreciate the help," Charlie said picking up his items. He clipped on the mag holster and slid the empties into the slots. The box he stuck into the dump pouch. It was time to get some new threads.


    "We all been there," the guy said as Charlie walked out of the store.


    The mall was filling up with people, and several gray-clad individuals walked past Charlie into the shop. Elva was dogging his step as he joined the crowd heading deeper into the mall. At the intersection, he turned right. About halfway down there was a shop sign that read, "Sam''s Surplus Treads." Next to this, there was a picture of an old WW2 Army helmet with a bloody bullet hole in the side. "We buy used clothes, inquire within." It read in neon letters below.


    Upon entering the store he noticed the faint smell of gun smoke. The scent permeated the air and probably came from the used items. Elva¡¯s eyes glistened as they took in the massive selection, and she was already lost in her own little world. The female portion was considerably larger than the men''s. Underwear dominated the first aisle, and it was here the smell of smoke and oil was strongest. He picked up a pair of white thong panties and matching bra. Charlie rubbed a thumb over the fabric, which felt clean.


    "Will this fit?" he asked holding the undergarment out to Elva. She glanced at the tag.


    "This is a 30B and a small bottom. I''m a voluptuous girl if you haven''t noticed." Elva said lifting said bosom up a little. Well, he''d never bought female underwear before. How was he supposed to guess her size?


    "How about you pick out what you want," He said and put the thong back. Charlie left her to find clothes. He figured if she''d survived two months by herself she could manage her own outfit. Towards the back of the store he found the male section. These didn''t have much of a smell to them. Probably because they''d been worn by players. He found a pair of dark jeans in his size and a plain white t-shirt. By luck he chanced upon an army-green coat for sale. It had a high-necked collar and four large front pockets. Two unadorned shoulder tabs made the jacket appear pseudo-military.


    ¡°That was easy,¡± he said carrying everything to the front counter.


    His new outfit would only cost ninety-five creds, so he threw in a black gun belt. Around then Elva came running up with a handful of clothes. Her face was positively glowing as she held them out. She had picked out a pair of daisy duke cut-offs which was an interesting choice. Her shirt too was a black cut-off tank top. The last thing in her hands made him pause because they weren''t panties as he''d expected. It was a white lace lingerie and its price tag was four hundred credits. He balked at the cost. That was more money than everything else combined. Elva smiled at him, beamed really.


    "You''re not wearing that with the cut-offs," he said.


    "Of course not, it''s for later." She replied with that sly grin of hers.


    ¡°Definitely a big hook,¡± he thought to himself. Charlie considered her choices then asked, "What are you going to wear under your shorts then?"


    "Nothing," she said tilting her head. He groaned but put everything on the counter as Elva hugged him from behind.


    "Go put them on while I pay," He said shooing her towards the changing rooms.


    The clerk was a bland, nondescript fellow. His dull eyes and general apathy at the lingerie he rung up was strange. Was this a regular NPC? One that wasn''t a gun? The man finished scanning the items and the display lit up. His total was 573 creds which almost made him put the lingerie back again. That was even more than the magazines and holster he''d bought. Reluctantly he accepted the charge and Charlie was left with a measly 202 credits. At least they were both fully equipped.

 4. Casual Lessons

    The mall corridor was packed to capacity as he left the store. Charlie was forced to shoulder his way into an unused bathroom to find a quiet place to sit down. Elva followed him into the restroom and immediately went to admire herself in the mirror. She posed arching her back and pursed her lips at her reflection. Charlie opened a stall door and went inside. He quickly changed out the noob uniform for his jeans, shirt, and jacket. After buckling on his belt on he tossed the slacks into the trash. Charlie unlocked the stall and came out. Elva was slowly turning around in circles admiring herself before the mirror.


    "What are you doing?" He asked approaching.


    "I''m making sure to record everything about the first outfit my Meister bought me."


    Ahh geez, well, change forms. I need to reload your magazines." He said taking out the box of ammo. Elva began to glow. There was a flash and a 1911 was laying on the hand-washing counter. Charlie started by opening the ammo box and reloaded an eight round mag. He picked up Elva and pressed the magazine release. The empty mag slid out and he replaced it with the full one. After wracking the slide he paused. If the gun had just stripped the first round wasn''t there room for another? He experimented by removing the mag and slipping another bullet on top. Then he loaded the gun again so there was 8 + 1 in the chamber. Charlie felt proud of himself for thinking of that, but little did he know this was standard practice.


    He finished by loading the other two mags and sliding them into his thigh holster. More than half the ammo was left so he tucked the rest into the pouch. It had only taken twenty-four rounds to fill his load-out. At least he''d be able to play several matches without having to fetch more. He clipped Elva into the thigh holster then pushed from the restroom. Charlie had little money left. There was only two hundred creds on his account, but at least he was fully outfitted. He joined the crowd heading toward the food court. There he left the building and started towards the competition center. While he''d been shopping the morning clouds had burned off. Warm sunlight filled the heavens, and the pavement was already dry.


    Outside the competition entrance several sound stages were set up. On one side women in thong bikini''s were posing with machine guns. A girl with a short rainbow bob slid a box into an M60. She charged the heavy weapon and hefted it to her shoulder. At the end of the stage a target and backstop had been set up. The girl squeezed the trigger and sent a burst of fifty rounds into the silhouette. Most of the ogling men failed to notice the rounds hitting the target''s center mass. The gun¡¯s bucking made her enormous breasts dance in the tight swimwear. Another woman walked around the stage perimeter with a banner which read, "Girls Inc, Recruiting." Charlie spent a few minutes admiring the hardware on display, both metal and flesh.


    A live band was playing on the opposite stage. The music was new age, which meant it was loud and disjointed. He preferred rhythm from when it wasn¡¯t just synthetic noise, so Charlie quickly followed along as the crowd passed between the stages. Inside the entrance another banner reading, ¡®Happy Memorial Day¡¯ hung over the help desk. Surrounding the desk were hundreds of wooden ammo containers. ¡®Free ammo with each match,¡¯ another sign said above this.


    ¡°Shit,¡± Charlie thought. Charlie wished he''d known about the free ammo beforehand, and saved himself ten credits. The bubbly receptionist wasn''t around today. Instead, a golden eyed man was manning the counter. A line of people wrapped around the help desk and into the lounge. Charlie moved past the free ammo into the competition lobby. Maybe later he would return to collect some. For now he wanted to run a few casual matches. He located an unused console and activated it by pressing his palm to it. His statistics came up which hadn''t changed since his first battle. He navigated the menu options before he located the casual lobby list. He selected a pistol death match and a warning prompt came up. ¡®Casual games may include players of different skill groups,¡¯ it warned in yellow text.


    "That was fine," he thought and hit accept. The higher skilled players would still be limited to a handgun.


    "Please enter lobby - 245." It said on the screen. He closed the screen and made for the elevators. Several people got into one with him. Most simply swiped their hand over the control screen, which was enough to get the tube moving.


    "Lobby - 199," It said opening. A bearded man carrying a sniper rifle walked into the small lounge. The doors closed again and continued down.


    "Lobby - 210," The chibi robotic voice chirped. Another man strode out of the elevator before it descended.


    "Lobby - 245," It said opening the doors. Charlie followed a woman wearing skin-tight black leather into the private lounge. She had snow white hair and was smoking a cigarette. Several high ranking players were impatiently waiting in the small room, and Charlie gulped feeling like he''d just jumped into a shark tank. There was enough tactical clothing worn by the assembled group to outfit a navy seal team. He tried to play it cool by moving to a nearby couch and sitting. The woman continued to smoke while leaning against the wall. The elevator door opened and the last person walked into the lounge. The world went dark as the final player joined them.


    [Match Beginning]


    Charlie found himself sitting on a transit bus. He had a perfect view of the street below as the bus hung precariously over the edge of the freeway. It was sunny outside, but still early morning which meant he was on the west coast somewhere. A gust of sea wind blew past making the bus rock. The vehicle swayed slowly, edging towards the precipice. He was sitting halfway down the aisle, so any wrong move might send the bus and himself to the highway below.


    He didn''t stand up entirely. Charlie lifted himself partially out of the seat. As he did the bus tipped forward rocking on the lip. He swung his foot out and grabbed a nearby metal rail. Metal shrieked as the bottom carriage slid across the guard rail. The whole bus was hanging at a twenty-degree angle over the highway. He started up the incline towards the emergency exit. Every time the wind picked up the metro inched a little further, and any second it would tip over the rail. As he reached the rear it became impossible to walk up the incline. He hung onto the hanging rails as he climbed up the last few seats. Only the guard rail hooked under the tires was keeping the bus from going over. He grasped the door handle and yanked down. As he pushed open the exit the bus went over the edge and Charlie jumped leaping for the road. He cleared the torn guard rail and rolled to a knee scraping stop. Below the transit bus slammed face first into the ground crumpling like a broken accordion.


    As he was looking at the wreckage below a figured appeared from under the bridge. A male was hunched low to the ground and was scanning the bus wreckage. Charlie dropped to a knee next to the ruined guard rail. Unholstering Elva, he remembered to remove the safety, then he stood aiming down the sights at the man. The target was still peeking through a shattered window into the bus. The gun fired and Charlie was rewarded with a spray of red mist. The bullet struck the man in the neck and traveled down into his chest cavity. Blood squirted over the pavement as he crumpled.


    "You should check your surroundings more carefully," a female said from behind him. He spun with the gun to see the white haired woman. A bullet slammed into his chest followed by a second and third. The sky filled his vision as he went over the edge to the street below. He hit the ground just as the darkness closed in.


    A door opened revealing the private lounge. One thing was missing though. The man he''d killed was gone, which was odd. Maybe you didn''t have to stick around for casual matches. Above the main screen, the timer showed that eighteen minutes remained. He''d only managed to last two minutes, but at least he''d killed someone. Charlie touched a nearby console and was pleased to see he''d earned two hundred credits. A door opened nearby and another player entered the lobby. The man wore a black balaclava over his head and a dark urban-camo vest. Charlie glanced up from the console watching as the soldier walked to the elevator. It opened at his approach and he slapped at the control screen. The door slid shut and the elevator ascended. Well, that answered the question of whether he could leave or not.


    He wanted to laugh. The first game had been over too fast to get his heart rate up. Charlie stood and approached the exit. After a few seconds the elevator doors opened, and he returned to the lobby. People were mobbing the help desk for free ammo. Charlie though had only fired a single bullet. He decided to reload next to a nearby console. Elva''s chamber was charged so all he had to do was slide in a fresh eight round magazine. Then he holstered the 1911 after making sure the safety was on. He ripped open the Velcro pouch on his thigh and removed the ammo box. With it he replaced the one spent bullet and slid the magazine into a spare slot. After finishing he replaced the ammo box in the pouch and stood. Then he accessed the console himself and started another casual pistol match.


    "Please enter Lobby - 420," it said after flashing the skill group warning at him. With ten people in each game that meant at least four thousand people were playing right now. That too was just on the West Coast server. He whistled, impressed by the turnout because that number would likely increase after lunch. He entered the elevator and went down to the lounge. The match started almost immediately.


    The darkness came and went leaving Charlie staring at a setting sun. Thank god he wasn''t near a bus, but he was on a highway. Broken down cars littered the road like forgotten toys. Nearby a speed-limit sign read, ¡®100'' with a red circle. Judging by the dusk sky and the foreign traffic sign he was somewhere in Europe. Charlie crouched removing the pistol and glanced around. He''d been a fool to just start shooting at that guy. It had been rather stupid getting bloodthirsty for a kill.


    The highway ran east to west towards the sun. On either side of the road was a large grass covered berm. Shuffling closer to a car he glanced through the window, but couldn''t see any movement. Two shots rang out in the distance. He looked west but the sun was in his eyes and there were too many cars on the road. Silence followed the pistol reports and Charlie unconsciously hunkered down.


    He waited this time, while his heart started getting a healthy dose of adrenaline. For minutes gun shots were exchanged up and down the highway. None were close enough to make him worry just yet. The buzzer went off somewhere above and the red line crept into view. It was inching along about a hundred feet away urging him into action, and Charlie stepped away from the Mercedes he''d been hiding behind. Almost immediately a loud shot rang out from behind. It felt as though a taser was jammed into his leg. Unable to support his weight his knee collapsed and he crumpled to the cracked pavement. Laying under a van some twenty feet away was a short girl already aiming at him for a second shot. Charlie tried to bring his gun around but he''d landed poorly. Her pistol flashed sending Charlie into darkness.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    "Damn it," he cursed as the door to the lounge opened. He stepped out and punched the padded wall. That girl had been much closer to the match border. If he''d just waited for a little longer she would have been forced to move. But, no¡­ he''d gotten impatient. She must have known he was there all along waiting for the shot. What pissed him off even more was the fact he hadn''t even fired back. Charlie walked through the empty lounge to the elevators and started up. He got into line with several others to use the console and started another match.


    ¡°How are you doing?¡± Elva asked.


    ¡°I got one kill so far.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good, keep at it. If you have questions don¡¯t be afraid to ask. I can¡¯t tell you how to play but I can give you some general advice.¡± She said in an enthusiastic voice.


    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind,¡± he replied entering the elevator. It descended opening onto another lounge. As he exited the world went dark. This was just what he had to do; practice, practice, and more practice. That along with a heavy amount of trial and error. In an hour he was going to have to log off for lunch. Charlie wouldn¡¯t do himself any favors by neglecting to eat. After that he could focus on running matches all day long. At least they were giving out ammo so he didn''t have to leave the competition center.


    ***


    Soft pale moonlight filtered through the broken blinds to illuminate the tiny hotel room. The light fixture hanging from the ceiling was broken, and the switch had been removed to keep people from turning it on. The run down room was more expensive than the motel but at least there was a bed. The sheets were stained, and the pillows lay forgotten on the floor. Charlie sat on the bed with his weapon, and a shaft of light framed them as his wrist worked. He licked his lips nervously. This technically wasn''t their first time but that didn''t stop him from worrying. Elva, however, was thoroughly enjoying herself.


    "Mmmm¡­ yes," she groaned and Charlie almost stopped mid-motion. "No, no don''t stop. I''m almost there, just a little more." Elva begged. His wrist moved faster, fingers wet and slick from the solvent. The heavy aroma of gunsmoke wafted from the 1911 to fill the small room.


    "Ohhh gawd, Charlie. I''m cuummminnggggg¡­" Elva squealed. The final word devolved into a series of panting cries.


    This time Charlie did stop. His wrist slowed before he said, "You know¡ªthat is very distracting."


    Elva panted breathlessly into his ear. "I told you, we guns are more sensitive in our original forms," she said. Charlie held in his left hand Elva''s upper receiver and in his right a wire brush. The barrel and frame lay on a rag next to him on the bed. Charlie had been scrubbing the breach-face and under the extractor. He dipped the brush into the plastic cup, and brown powder residue swirled in the solvent. He tapped it on the container¡¯s lip.


    "I can''t believe you get so dirty."


    "Who''s fault is that?" Elva asked heavily into his ear. "You used me all day long¡ªnot that I''m complaining." She added quickly.


    "What I mean is, why? Why add dirt and grime into the game?" He asked using the brush on Elva''s slide. He dug the bristles underneath the slide lip. Black oil dripped down the brush to his fingers. Elva groaned again unable to speak as he did this.


    ¡°It seems like a pointless waste of time, but I suppose it gives us Meister''s a reason to get to know our weapons. A real soldier takes on the responsibility of caring for his gun." He said after considering the idea. Along with the sex and excitement came a bit of work.


    Elva''s slide looked free of caked on soot so he dropped the brush into the solvent and grabbed a q-tip. This he dug into her slide groove. It came away brownish-yellow, and he set it with the others. After several more he put the slide down on the rag. The barrel was a short tube with a feed ramp on one side. The inside grooves were nearly black with powder and copper fouling. He picked up the solvent canister and aimed down the throat spraying inside. He waited a few seconds then picked a circular brush out of the cleaning kit and ran it down the barrel. Elva tried but failed to stifle her moans. Charlie did this three or four times until the solvent came out clear. The lower frame was fairly clean aside from his dirty fingerprints, so he sprayed it down lightly and ran a rag over the metal.


    "Now you need to oil me, but not more than a drop on the spots I told you. Improper oil is worse than none at all." The lubricant bottle was small with a long needle on the end. He squeezed a drop onto the front, middle, and back slide. Next he added a tiny amount to the sear and one final drop just below the hammer. The tricky part was reassembly and Charlie paused to check the instructions again.


    He slid the barrel into the slide then inserted the bushing. The guide and recoil spring went in next. Now he had the awkward task of putting the upper receiver onto the lower. About halfway down he stopped with the holes lined up. With one hand holding the pieces together he pushed the slide stop into place. All that was left was to put on the spring cover and push it down. With his thumb he kept it depressed and rotated the barrel bushing into place. Done, phew¡­ that was a task and a half.


    He racked the slide several times to spread the oil around. After aiming the gun in a safe direction he pulled the trigger. The hammer fell on the empty chamber and he racked the gun again. Next he flicked on the safety and made sure that worked. The trigger refused to move, which was good. For a few seconds he held the completed weapon in his hands. The surface was a parkerized matte black which was smooth to the touch. It had dark wood grips with a subtle checkered pattern. Charlie had liked the weapon when he first picked Elva in character creation. She was a sexy creature in both her forms, though he''d learned she had drawbacks. Namely a lack of ammo capacity. Compared to some of the modern pistols seven rounds left him wanting. Still, you couldn''t argue about that big forty-five caliber bullet. A single hit to the center torso was generally enough to down an unarmored opponent.


    The 1911 began to glow until there was a flash. Elva appeared kneeling on the bed in daisy dukes and a tight little tank top. "That felt heavenly," she admitted rocking her hips back and forth. Elva stretched reaching her hands into the air while pushing her chest out. Again she shifted back and forth until she felt satisfied. Sliding from the bed she said, "I''m going to change into something more comfortable." The blond disappeared into the bathroom which gave Charlie time to clean up. He put the brushes into the kit and replaced the top on the solvent canister. The dirty rags and q-tips he tossed into the waste basket. All the extra cleaning supplies went into the shopping bag near the bed. Next he wiped his hands clean on a fresh towel. He needed a duffel bag or a backpack to put his purchases into. There was no hope of affording an apartment just yet. He and Elva would have to remain mobile by renting rooms each night.


    Charlie sat back looking around at the hotel suite. It had cost forty credits, which was twice as expensive as the coffin motel, and it was still a dive. Near the entrance was a small kitchenette and table. The fridge didn''t work and the sink constantly dripped water. At least he had a bed, hard and lumpy as it was. That was a far cry better than a hole in the wall. A window opposite Charlie was partially open, and the early summer air blew through the torn drapes. In the distance the glowing Competition Center was visible which was active all night long. The moon disappeared behind a cloud bank plunging Charlie into gloom.


    He hadn''t done well today. Out of ten casual matches he had lost all of them. Half the time he''d been one of the first people killed, and it didn''t help that everyone was leagues ahead in skill. Charlie felt extremely frustrated with how little he understood the game. A large part of it came down to marksmanship and practice. He''d discovered, over the course of the day, that he couldn''t shoot for shit. Charlie needed to work on his aim before he played another match. Tomorrow was Sunday and he had some money from his casual games. The six hundred credits would let him rent time in the practice rooms at the competition hall.


    Charlie was forced out of his pity party by the bathroom door opening. Just then the moon exited the clouds, and the shaft of light perfectly framed Elva in the glow. It seemed for a few seconds that everything else in the world faded in importance. In the pale light Elva stepped playfully into the room wearing the crotchless lingerie they''d bought earlier. White thigh-high stockings were held up via a little garter belt and the window on her sex showed off a short landing strip of blond pubic hair. By now Charlie realized he''d been staring at her open mouthed. Elva smiled pleased with his reaction. She fingered the lace thong, pulling on it before letting it snap back into place. It was moments like this that reminded Charlie there was perfection in this digital world, and it was standing before him. Elva cupped a heavy breast feeling the soft lace fabric. The cloth was transparent enough to show off her pert pink nipples. Next she combed her fingers through her blond hair and shook it out. The strands fell over her chest as she locked eyes with Charlie. He blew out a breath he''d been unconsciously holding.


    "Fuck me," he said as she swayed toward him seductively. The lingerie was definitely worth the credits, definitely.


    "If that''s what you want," she replied and he nodded eagerly.


    Elva pushed him back onto the bed and started to unbutton his pants. Quickly his new clothes went onto the floor with the blankets. She climbed atop him, straddling his waist, and with long fingers curled around his manhood guided him inside. As Elva started rocking Charlie knew he was caught; hook, line, and sinker. His hips met hers as they quickly built up speed. Soon he was clutching at her waist in a vain attempt to hang onto his self-control. Charlie felt his way up her lace covered thighs, past her stomach, and grabbed her heaving breasts. Elva moaned placing her hands over his as she leaned back. Her sensuous body rose and fell, and Charlie knew he was about to finish. Elva leaned forward kissing him as he started to climax.


    Afterward Elva swept back into the bathroom to put her daisy dukes on. Exhausted and ready for sleep Charlie activated the system menu. He touched his temple with two fingers and selected ¡®Logout'' from the options.


    All was dark as reality settled over him. For a few seconds the dingy hotel room and his apartment merged in his senses. Charlie tried to speak it felt as though someone had poured hot sand down his throat. He coughed thickly and tried to work up some saliva.


    "Lights, dim." He said in a hoarse voice. The ceiling light came on low. Damn, he was thirsty. Charlie slipped the dive helmet from his head. Then he rolled to his feet and set the gear down in the chair.


    "Mental note¡ªkeep a water bottle handy," he thought.


    Charlie coughed again as he shuffled into the kitchen. The water faucet came on tepid but he was too thirsty to wait. Forgoing a glass he cupped a hand under the water and brought it to his lips. It was like liquid ambrosia to his tongue despite the metallic aftertaste. He drank another handful and the fire in his throat began to lessen. Now that he wasn''t in imminent danger of collapse he could take his time. Charlie fetched a clean glass and filled it with some ice cubes. He glanced down at the cat bowl which was empty again.


    "I''m going to have to buy more cat food soon," he said fetching the container. It rattled as he shook the large plastic jug, and Fizzgig made his appearance at the sound. The feline sat a few feet away patiently waiting for Charlie to finish. Next he filled the water dish and wandered further into the apartment. As he shuffled into his bedroom he took a long draft of water and set it on the stand. Then he entered the master bath and flicked on the light.


    He showered, brushed his teeth, and cleaned the litter-box while in the bathroom. After donning a pair clean boxers he went to lay down in bed. A full moon was up. Its color and luminosity almost exactly matched the one in game. The night sky was cloudless but the stars didn''t twinkle quite so brightly in real life. It was something he never got tired of looking at. Deep down space called to him. He raised a hand pointing his finger at the moon as if Elva was in his hand.


    "Bang," he whispered pulling the imaginary trigger. Charlie smiled, rolled away from the moonlight, and drifted off to sleep.

 5. Fog Lifted

    The sound of an explosion catapulted Charlie from a dead sleep. The deafening clatter of a machine gun followed. For a few seconds he sat in bed as his brain struggled into motion. The phone making the terrible racket danced across the bedside table. ¡°That was the second alarm,¡± he thought blearily. The first was considerably more subdued which was why he''d slept right through it.


    "Well fudge sticks," he said throwing the blankets off. Charlie reached past the water bottle snatching the phone and activated it. With a quick series of flicks, he silenced the gunfire. Charlie had ten minutes to get to work, and it was a twenty-minute commute. He dropped the mobile on the bed and rushed to the dresser. Thankfully he''d taken a shower last night, so all he had to do was throw on a button-up shirt and slacks. He tugged on some socks then shoved his feet into a pair of black business loafers. Grabbing the phone again he ran outside and down the apartment stairs. He was already late by the time he reached his car and started it.


    After thirty-five minutes in traffic he pulled into his parking spot at the dealership. The glove compartment opened and he extracted an extra tie. Charlie slicked his hair using a half-empty bottle of water and a pocket comb. Finally, he checked himself using the driver side mirror. There was a heavy five o¡¯clock shadow over his face, and his tie was crooked. He straightened it then ran a hand over his face hoping nobody would notice the stubble.


    There were two customers already inside, and Frank glanced past the older woman. Charlie ignored the look and moved to his desk. There was paperwork to finish before he made the lot rounds. Pulling his chair out he was about to sit when his phone rang. He glanced up and towards the general manager''s office. Through the glass, the boss was holding the receiver to his ear and looking in Charlie''s direction. Irvin flicked his hand beckoning Charlie into the office.


    ¡°Just what I needed this morning,¡± he thought to himself. He moved to the glass door and knocked.


    "It''s open," the man said, and went inside.


    "You''re not usually late."


    "It was hot last night, and I had trouble sleeping," Charlie said. It was a white lie. He''d been screwing Elva most of last night, but the old man didn''t need to know that. The General Manager sat back giving Charlie the eyeball.


    "Can I talk to you man to man?" The GM asked. Something sarcastic almost slipped from Charlie''s lips, but he caught himself just in time.


    "Of course," Charlie said and smiled hoping it looked genuine. He tried to prepare himself for whatever the man had to say.


    "I like you, which is why I wanted to talk." Irvin began. Charlie prayed he hadn''t meant sexually. God that was such a disgusting thought. The GM picked up a pen and examined it carefully before he spoke. "Your sales numbers are the lowest among the agents. If you don''t get them up I''m going to have to take you off the active roster."


    That wasn''t good. If Charlie got put on call his commission rate would drop to almost nothing. Charlie needed to say something to prevent that at all cost. He touched his tie again making sure it was neat before speaking. "It''s pretty hard out there with the recession. None of the others are pulling the numbers they used to."


    "True, but that also means we can''t afford to keep you on. I''ve seen you sell a luxury SUV to a stubborn mule-headed miser. I know you have what it takes, so why don''t you do better?" He asked.


    This time it was Charlie that sat back. His mind reeled. He felt like someone had just smashed him upside the head with a bat called Epiphany. "I see from the look on your face that I''m getting through to you," The older man said with a smile. The fool was such an ass. He had, however accidentally, stumbled into Charlie''s darkened mind and flipped the right switch.


    "Why didn''t he do better?" Charlie asked himself. All his life he''d done just enough to get by and no more. He wanted out of the office so he had time to consider what was happening. It was as if the veil over his eyes had lifted, and the fog in which he dwelled was slowly dispelling.


    "Give me a chance," he said at last.


    "That''s why I called you in here. You have a week before I drop you."


    "Thanks for the heads up," Charlie replied standing. A week? The reprieve was so pathetically small as to be almost pointless, but there was always a chance. He left the glass office and walked to his desk. For a few minutes, he sat not doing anything at all. The world was suddenly different. Everything looked brighter, sharper, and more colorful than before, and it wasn''t the morning sun coming through the windows. Charlie¡¯s world perspective had shifted in the last few minutes.


    His first thoughts, strangely enough, were of Gun Meister. He wondered why he hadn''t done better in game. All yesterday Charlie had practiced his marksmanship. He''d used hours of time and several hundred credits on training. That though didn''t excuse the stupid mistakes he''d made in the matches. He realized only now he hadn''t been thinking. Charlie was by nature a lazy man. He could admit that. He always walked away from effort toward the path of least resistance. His one competition match had scared him enough that he fled to casual. There he''d only met with more skilled players. Yesterday he''d wasted most of his credits at the range. He needed to think more, and act less.


    Finally he forced himself back into the present. Charlie was in danger of getting canned if he didn''t improve. From his desk he watched the other agents talking to customers. Each one had their own style he realized.


    Chad was sitting with a young couple across from Charlie. The younger man never shut up. In his mind''s eye, Charlie could see Chad closing in on the young duo. In his hands, a sub-machine gun was continuously chattering. It didn''t even matter what he said, so long as he didn''t stop. The point obviously was to keep the marks talking and not thinking. Not using their heads to consider how ridiculously high those interest rates were. Like Chad though they were young and stupid.


    Frank walked past the front doors. His eyes were locked onto another elderly woman in a decade old summer dress. He was like an unscrupulous assassin. He used misdirection to trick the customers into looking at something else. Only then did he slip the knife in unseen. Except in Frank''s case, it was the car''s faulty alternator or a bad transmission. Charlie felt a moment of disgust as the man got within range of that older female. She smiled up at him like a doe in his headlights. Thankfully, Charlie couldn''t see Frank''s shark-like grin.


    Jennifer was sitting at her desk with her new award proudly displayed. She''d even gotten a frame for it which had certainly cost more than the useless piece of paper. Jen was akin to that gold level smurf in his first competition match. All she had to do for the kill was walk down the street scanning for enemies. Suckers would leap out after Jennifer hot for some attention. That was why she targeted single men coming onto the lot. Natural marks, ones that spent more time hitting on her than reading the loan agreement they were signing.


    He needed a new style. Charlie didn''t have tits so using his good looks was unlikely. Not unless a string of desperate gay men strolled onto the lot. Neither was he ruthless enough to shovel garbage cars. He would never be a talker like ¡®Chattering Chad.'' That took too much energy even to watch. For a time, he considered what to do. While doing this a husband and wife drove onto the lot with a hybrid convertible sports car. Charlie forced himself from the chair and out the front doors. He caught a piece of their conversation as he neared.


    "I don''t know babe. These get terrible mileage per kilowatt." The man was saying.


    "We need something for the baby, and for the future." The wife replied a little tartly. Charlie stopped a few feet away.


    "Good morning, can I help you?" The husband turned and glanced almost stubbornly at Charlie. The look wasn''t entirely hostile but neither did he smile.


    "We''re checking out our options, thank you." He said motioning Charlie away.


    "My husband wants to trade in his car for something more family friendly," she said. The van she was looking at was a soccer mom''s wet dream. Fold out seats, lots of room in the back for groceries, and it even had a luggage wrack for trips to the park.


    Charlie again glanced at the husband who''s face was stony. The car they¡¯d come in with was an expensive electric sports car. It was red, of course it was red. Charlie suspected he understood the situation now. The wife married the guy for his money and his fast car. Now that she had the ring she wanted the sports car gone. Mr. Husband though was kicking tires and finding things wrong with the vehicles. He could empathize with the man, and Charlie didn''t blame the guy. Brand new it was a sixty thousand dollar car. Even ten years old the car¡¯s Bluebook was worth a good 24k in trade in.


    "How about this," Charlie said to the couple. "Instead of trading in the car for a new van, you can get a used one for a third the price."


    "We just bought a home so we don''t have much for down payment." The wife said quickly. Charlie nodded and plowed ahead.


    "You don''t need a down payment for a used car. We finance everything. That way the husband keeps his vehicle for work and you get a family van for running around." Charlie said with burgeoning appeal. He smiled at the two. The woman grimaced glancing towards the used car lot. Her face looked skeptical but the husband nodded quickly latching onto the idea.


    "Honey, think about it. This way there will be two cars. You don''t have to wait for me to get home to go shopping." He said wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He turned guiding the woman towards the second lot. Charlie followed on his heels.


    ¡°That guy really wanted to keep his hot little convertible,¡± Charlie thought to himself.


    "This is the same model van that you were just looking at. It''s only three years old and has very low mileage.¡± He said stopping next to a vehicle.


    "It''s used though," the wife argued.


    "Everything is rigorously maintained by our service team. The used van is twenty-two thousand dollars less and there''s no down payment." He said and the husband nodded already in agreement. The interest rate was going to be a killer but the husband could handle it. Charlie had a sale, and it hadn''t taken much convincing. He led the two into the air conditioned building, and settled both at his desk. The couple signed the loan agreement and Charlie handed the keys over.


    Charlie watched both cars leave the lot. That was exactly what he should have been doing. Look for a way in, push in hard, and get the sale. He sold two more cars which was better than usual.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ***


    He logged in just after five in the evening. Elva lay atop him like usual but he didn''t have time for her shenanigans today. Quickly he gathered the cleaning equipment, extra clothes, and ammo together in the shopping bags. "Come on," he said pulling open the door and heading downstairs. The lobby was empty and he tossed the hotel key onto the desk as he went by. The city was busy with people just getting off work. Cars and motorcycles roared by on the way to the competition center. Charlie joined the throng walking in that direction.


    "Are you angry with me?" Elva asked two steps behind. He stopped mid-stride perplexed by the question.


    "What?"


    "Your face is set. Are you angry I hurt you?" Elva asked nervously. For a few seconds he continued to stare at her until realization dawned. Last night he''d tried introducing her to the pleasures of oral sex with disastrous results.


    "Ahh, well¡­ I did tell you to treat it like a Tootsie-pop. Little did I know you''d lick it three times before biting into the chewy center." He said reaching out a hand. She smiled sheepishly as he patted her on the head. "No, I''m not angry with you, but next time don¡¯t use your teeth. If I am upset, it''s at myself." He said and continued walking. Within minutes he neared the Competition Center and joined the crowd heading inside. Memorial weekend was over so the free ammo was gone. The crowd split apart. Most of the people made for the training areas while the rest went towards the large public lounge. Several bars were set up and people could watch the matches in progress. A few like him were heading to the terminals. There was an open console and he activated it with his palm. The screen flashed as he navigated the menu until ¡®Quick Death-Match¡¯ came up, and he hit accept.


    "Enter Lobby 157," it said and he moved to the elevator. The private room was empty and he was forced to wait while the rest of the players gathered. Elva sat nearby on the couch. Charlie was still irritated, but that was no reason to take it out on her. He shifted closer wrapping an arm around her waist. Two players entered next and moved to the far wall.


    Elva leaned in and whispered, "I''ll do better next time."


    "I know you will," he said patting her side. "Weapon form," he added as the next person entered. She started to glow and a pistol was soon laying in his lap. Charlie checked her load, then holster the weapon. As the final player entered, everything faded into darkness.


    [Match Starting]


    A seagull flew past in a squawking clatter of feathers. His foot slipped on slimy deck plating, and he snatched onto a nearby railing. After collecting himself he scanned the area. It appeared Charlie was standing on the prow of a derelict cargo ship. The vessel was beached and listed awkwardly to one side. Many of the shipping containers had broken their cables and fallen below. Televisions, stuffed toys, and decomposing commercial goods were half buried in the sand. The containers left on the deck formed a disjointed maze of alleys.


    ¡°Ok, enough gawking,¡± he reprimanded himself. Charlie had people to kill, so he unholstered the 1911 and slid the safety off. For once luck was on his side with a good position. Starting at the prow meant he could be reasonably certain nobody was behind him. Just in case he glanced over the railing, and scanned the beach searching the jumble of rusting containers. Nothing moved except seagulls and a few sand crabs. In the distance, the red line curved in a giant circle around the ship. His examination of the area was cut short by gunfire. A distant series of pops indicated the actual beginning of the match.


    He moved slowly into the entrance of the maze. Several container doors hung open swinging slowly and creaking in the sea breeze. Years of rain, mold, and bird droppings formed a dark slime over the deck. A pair of footprints appeared halfway down the row. Charlie glanced back seeing that he too was leaving a trail, so there was no point in camping unless you started in a covered position.


    The footprints of this first enemy disappeared into a nearby container. Keeping his pistol aimed at the entrance he advanced. Charlie took his time. At the first open door he paused to check inside. It held a dusty disused sports car, but was otherwise empty. Finally, after a full minute he arrived outside his target¡¯s hiding place. The doors were partially open and it was obvious the person had done so on purpose. The player could wait inside for a shadow to pass by then fire from within. Not a bad plan. Charlie was tempted to wait the guy out, but the red line was already halfway to the ship. He paused listening at the door, then smiled, and almost laughed from what he heard. Whoever was inside the container was breathing so hard it sounded like a bad horror movie.


    "These guys are just as scared as I am," he thought to himself. That made him feel a little better.


    Reaching out with the pistol he used the barrel to knock on the red container door. Charlie quickly pulled back when several bullet holes appeared in the metal. The person inside unloaded thirteen rounds turning the rusting metal into swiss cheese. There was a long lull and he dodged across the gap to the other side. As Charlie did so, he glanced in. A red Ferrari was parked inside and strapped tightly down. Dust and bird droppings covered the once immaculate paint job. Behind the vehicle a man was crouched desperately trying to reload. After a second he straightened and aimed across the car trunk. Charlie did laugh this time. He couldn''t help it, for he found the scene strangely funny as he stepped into the cover of another open container.


    "Why the hell are you laughing?" The man asked from inside the shadowed container.


    "I was just thinking you trapped yourself in there. What are you going to do when the red line comes?" He asked in a friendly voice.


    "Screw you!"


    "Just pointing the problem out," Charlie said crouching lower. There might still be others nearby and he didn''t want to get target fixated again. For almost a minute there was nothing but the stiff sound of the sea breeze. Charlie suspected the other players were camping until the buzzer sounded. He reached out tapping the door again with his gun.


    "Hello?" He asked politely but was met with angry silence. From within the container feet shuffled, and the sound came close to the door. Charlie remained where he was half hidden in his own container. Feet shuffled again as the player retreated behind the car.


    "Fuck, fuck, shit¡­" The man muttered to himself. Charlie felt bad for the guy. It was such a simple mistake and now he was paying for it. Another minute passed as the man cursed to himself.


    "How about you bugger off?" A hoarse voice asked.


    "Afraid I can''t leave you behind me. We gotta settle this first." Charlie replied. Somewhere above a buzzer went off. Half the time remained and the red line would start moving faster. Several gunshots rang out close by, and Charlie perked up as the noise was only a row or two away. Behind him the red line appeared through the back of the container. He stood, moved out into the open, and slowly shuffled backward up the aisle toward the next row.


    A face appeared in the entrance of the container. Charlie raised his gun aiming down the sights, but before he could fire it retreated. The red line advanced slowly covering part of the aisle. Charlie waited for the player to make a gun-blazing rush. From inside the container there was a muffled pop followed by the sound of a body hitting the ground.


    "Really?!" Charlie asked in surprise. The guy did himself dirty rather than take the fight, so Charlie was robbed of his kill reward. Just to make sure Charlie waited a few more seconds in silence. The red line passed over the container entrance pushing Charlie forward. Now he just had to worry about the people ahead of him, and there was at least one person close by. Along this row all of the containers were closed. That was small consolation considering the barrier was right on his heels.


    At the next open aisle several sets of footprints led inside. About ten feet in the paths branched and each trail diverged. The left headed towards the prow, but the red line already closed that way off. Charlie was forced right and he walked to the next turn. There a body was laying next to an open container door. It was female, but surprisingly little was left of the face. Carefully he opened the door next to the body. Just inside a few shell casings marked where the ambusher had stood. Somewhere amid the container maze a gun battle erupted, and it sounded like multiple parties were involved in a cascade of fire.


    The red line was closing in quickly, and Charlie was in danger of getting boxed into a dead end. He picked up the pace following the trail of footprints. More gunfire rang out nearby, and he stopped short of entering the next turn. The maze ended in an open platform. Sticking out of the center were the pillars of a massive rusted crane. A boom arm lay broken across the deck like a severed appendage. Twenty feet ahead a tall blond man crouched behind the steel pillar. He was in full view and an easy target.


    The player poked his head around the pillar looking across the deck. He raised an FN Five-Seven and shot several rounds at something. Charlie ducked back behind the corner as two people returned fire. He considered his options. Charlie had done a lot of skulking around and very little killing, however, that meant he still had a full loadout. Likely he would have to reload quickly after he made his move. With that in mind, he removed one of the extra magazines and held it in his off hand.


    There was less than five minutes left in the round and the boundary was an ever-present concern. Still, he waited while the players in the middle continued to exchange shots. Glanced back around the corner, Charlie found the blond crouched low to the ground, and saving the last few rounds for the final push. The weapon trembled in the man¡¯s large Germanic hands, and Charlie glanced at his own pistol. It was perfectly still, and pointing towards the ground. His heart rate was up and adrenaline was coursing through his veins, but he was managing.


    Charlie slipped around the corner with the pistol held in one hand. Raising the sights up he targeted the man''s back. The gun bucked as the first round slammed into the target. The man jerked sideways in surprise and tried to return fire, but Charlie walked forward firing several more rounds. Two of his three shots caught the man in the center chest. Someone else fired at him and a bullet hit the cargo container next to his left arm. Near the broken boom a girl was aiming at him. Charlie returned fire by instinct as he dashed the final distance to the pillar. He missed his shots, but at least he was in cover. Tilting the gun, Charlie pressed the magazine release with his thumb. The empty box slid free and he replaced it with the extra in his hand. He wasn''t sure if he''d lose the mag if he left it on the ground, and they were worth a hundred credits, so he grabbed the dropped mag, and slid it into an empty slot.


    There was another pause in the fighting. He crouched next to the pillar and smiled to himself. Well, well¡­ he''d done considerably better than he thought he would. By the looks of things only four people remained. There was Charlie, the girl, and from the sounds of combat two others on the opposite end. He wished he had a watch. The red line was a clear indication how much time was left, but it would be nice to know exactly how long the match had been going.


    A funny thing happened then. Charlie stood next to the man he''d killed, and the Five-Seven pistol began to glow. After a second it vanished in a twinkling of light, but the corpse remained. That was curious. He¡¯d have to ask Elva about that later.


    Charlie decided to risk the dash to the central hoist. Everyone would be low on ammo at this point and unlikely to waste them on a snapshot. He jinked left around the pillar and over a small railing. The girl near the boom aimed at him but he dodged putting the hoist in the way. Once there he considered his next move. He could climb the crane ladder for a height advantage, but that would expose him to multiple attackers. Charlie had the advantage right now, so it was better to wait for the others to push him. He crouched next to the railing and glanced over the edge. The girl was aiming at someone on the other side as she fired three or four shots.


    He used both his hands to grip the pistol as he rested his forearms on the railing. Slowly he squeezed the trigger as the girl looked in his direction. Elva barked in his grip. The top of her head disappeared in a red mist and she fell backward onto the slimy deck.


    "Damn, that felt good," he thought to himself. She''d been something like forty feet away and mostly behind cover. There was less than a minute remaining, and he moved to the hoist ladder. The red circle was only twenty feet away as he began to climb. A cab came into view. The front window was broken which had let rain water into the compartment. Someone on the other side was climbing up the second ladder. A new woman stopped partially above the gangway, but she still had a few rungs before reaching the landing. Charlie quickly fired several shots through the cab. Shattered glass flew outward as his bullets punched through the thin metal, and the girl dropped below.


    Charlie reloaded with his last full magazine. There was noise from below as the final player moved around the base. His aim still wasn''t very good on the move. Following the noise he crept to the edge of the gangway. A bullet ricocheted off the metal as he tried glancing over the side, and shrapnel slapped against his cheek. Quickly he pulled back to the control cab as something hot and wet ran down his chin. Reaching up he wiped at the liquid to discover it was his blood. That had been a mistake to peek over the edge. One that almost cost him the game. He didn''t need to kill her personally, the circle would do that for him.


    Seconds were left and the red circle was within touching distance of the hoist. Nearby the metal ladder rattled as someone quickly climbed it. He didn''t peek this time. Instead, he knelt next to the edge and pointed the gun straight down. He fired off four rounds and withdrew. Below a body hit the ground with a sickening crunch. Darkness followed after a few more seconds.


    [Match Complete]

 Book 2 is going Live

    Someone suggested i add an update to this book to notify everyone that Book 2 is going live. I''ve already got two chapters up. Im sure everyone would eventually stumble upon it, but this will make easier for my fans.


    https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/23746/gun-meister-online-2/chapter/342407/all-the-worlds-a-stage


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Ill had the synopsis here just to make 500 words.


    Gun Meister 2


    Max was a soldier, but a drunk driver took everything from him--including his life. Dead and digitized, he finds himself in a new world as a Ghost. He stumbles upon Gun Meister Online where his military training may help in this new game. The girls in Gun Meister just may heal the wounds in his heart and give him a new purpose in life. He in turn might be the Meister they always dreamed about. His happily ever after might not happen because things are still going on in the real world.