《BreakDown》 Chapter 1: EDITED VERSION Metropolis - SuperMart Saturday, May 2nd, 2089 | 11:36pm Toothpaste. *Beep* Milk. *Beep* Cereal. *Beep* Bananas. Ugh. The young cashier sighed. The only thing worse than monotonously scanning barcodes was breaking the rhythm to punch one in. Letting four years of habit guide her movements, she mindlessly weighed the bananas and passed the cursed fruit down to the automated bagging machine. She resumed scanning items and the groceries continued their never-ending journey down the black band of doom. A couple of toothbrush scans later, Chris knew she was dealing with Ms. Peters¡¯ weekly grocery visit. Lifting her head, she nodded a greeting to the middle-aged woman. In all her time at the SuperMart, Chris had yet to meet anyone half as invested in dental hygiene as the spinster. The woman bought seven toothbrushes every time she went grocery shopping, and that was once a week. Over time, Chris had entertained several different theories, some as outlandish and sinister as the woman harboring a bunch of kidnapped children and others as mundane as amnesia when it came to toothbrush locations. However, seeing as the rest of the woman¡¯s groceries were in the normal range of human purchases, Chris assumed the woman was just a real germaphobe when it came to oral hygiene. At least, that was the only semi-rational explanation Chris could come up with. Why anyone would need a new toothbrush every day was beyond her. An image of her own very worn toothbrush came to mind. Chris sighed as she stopped scanning for more fruit, tangerines this time. She tried to stay calm, but as Chris looked at all of the luxuries Ms. Peters was buying, she felt herself succumbing to a wave of financial worries. Food, clothes, electricity, water, gas, school fees, loans¡­ the list of things she needed but could barely afford was endless. Before Chris drowned in despair, she clamped her jaw closed, chasing the thoughts out of her mind. She couldn¡¯t afford to lose herself, not when she had her baby sister depending on her. It was neither the time nor place for a freak-out session. Chris took a deep breath to calm herself. Her worries were real, but they could wait until she wasn¡¯t in a supermarket full of people. Breathing out, Chris tried to reason with herself as she had so many times before. She was doing all that she could, and worrying about things beyond her control would only make things worse. Forcefully guiding her mind down a more optimistic path, she thought of how she only had two weeks of this hell left. After three arduous years of going to school during the day and working at night, she would finally be graduating with a degree in business. Things were finally going to change for the better. It was all going according to plan. In less than a year, she would never have to worry about money again. Chris couldn''t help a small smile from gracing her lips as she scanned the last of Ms. Peters¡¯ items. She already had a job lined up at one of the biggest art museums of Metropolis. They had a great managerial program that lasted two years, but Chris didn''t plan on staying that long. Not when it was just a stepping stone into something much bigger. Chris had lived on the wrong side of the tracks long enough to want to escape it in a big way, and a simple museum job just wasn¡¯t going to cut it. "Your total is $93.22," Chris said, keeping her eyes down. She was hoping Ms. Peters¡¯ didn¡¯t want to get into a long-winded discussion about her pet poodles today. Chris had been at the job too long to want to talk to anyone if she could avoid it. After you talked to a customer once, they would want to talk to you the next time and they would want or even expect you to remember them. It was a mistake she had committed all too often at the beginning of her illustrious SuperMart career, and because of too-loyal customers like Ms. Peters, Chris was still living with the repercussions. She¡¯d learned her lesson; the best thing to do was to clock in, stay quiet, do the job and clock out. The world rarely rewarded you for going the extra mile. Ms. Peters scanned her e-card and a bluish hologram of the wrinkled biddy¡¯s face was projected beside her. It grew in size until it fit her face exactly. Once the hologram overlapped the real face, it flashed green once and disappeared. The payment went through, Ms. Peters gathered her things and Chris moved on to the next customer¡¯s groceries, purposefully not looking up to see who they belonged to. Chris could usually determine who the customer was from the things that they bought. It was a game she¡¯d come up with to pass the time. If death by boredom were possible, Chris would be dead multiple times over. She couldn¡¯t complain though, not when this job was the only thing keeping her alive. Looking down at the conveyor belt, she was all too aware of how easy her job was. So easy, in fact, she could be replaced by a machine at any moment. Chris sighed. Being a cashier was one of the only minimum-wage jobs left in the economy, and that only because of union influences. All other unwanted jobs that required nothing but motor skills had long been taken over by robots such as the one on bagging duty. Chris sighed again as the last batch of the customer¡¯s items came her way. He was trickier to identify than most, but she¡¯d been able to narrow down a few things about him. - Men''s razors, chips and cereal brands: Probably a man. Women tended to go with sweets for their junk food. - There was no way he was married. No woman would let him get away with this food or brand selection. - He lived alone: There was nothing inconsistent with a single user, no random extras like two different toothpaste varieties. - He didn''t have a girlfriend, and wasn¡¯t trying to get one. None of the items would impress a girl. Depress? Possibly. Guys with girlfriends tended to buy random things like olive oil, air freshener, dried fruit, dryer sheets and yogurt. Great boyfriends even went as far as buying moisturizer and tampons. - He wasn¡¯t hurting for money. There were items from all three of the main brands. A 10% loyalty discount was nothing to scoff at, and yet this guy didn¡¯t seem to care in the least. Even Ms.Peters only bought one brand at a time. - He didn¡¯t cook. There were fifteen too many frozen meals for that to be the case. - He probably liked apples. There were a lot of apples. Mint flavored gum. *Beep* That was the last item, and she still had no idea who the man might be. Most customers were repeat visitors, but she hadn¡¯t been able to match the profile to anyone she remembered. After giving herself a final moment of deliberation, Chris admitted defeat and finally allowed herself to look at who she was dealing with. It was rare, but she did fail at recognizing customers by their items sometimes. She was expecting a ¡®duh¡¯ moment when she saw the him, but instead she smiled when she saw that she had never seen the man in her life. She hadn¡¯t lost after all. The man¡¯s features weren¡¯t memorable, but his height was, so she was sure she would have remembered him. Barely over five feet tall, she wasn¡¯t always the best judge of height, but she estimated him to be closer to seven than six feet tall. Maybe it was because her own height was so diminutive, but the man seemed positively gargantuan to her. She would definitely have remembered him, even if his groceries were unremarkable. Being small, she always remembered short and tall people. She commiserated with the first and was jealous over the second. Looking the man over one more time, she committed him and his groceries to memory, wondering if she¡¯d come across him again before she quit. Chris wondered if the apple fetish was a one-time deal. For all she knew, he could be baking apple pies . Shaking her head, she stopped musing over the apple-use possibilities and took stock of the customer one last time, trying to match the man she saw to the man represented in the items he chose. He was younger than she had expected him to be from his choice of brands, but other than that, she thought she had pretty much nailed his type. Single guy, living alone, probably a bit of a recluse. Lost in thought, she forgot to announce his total and before she knew it, she was caught staring. He was staring right back at her. Her mouth dried up when she saw the expression in his eyes.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Your total is f-fifty one, seventy two,¡± Chris said. The tall man with otherwise unremarkable features paid his bill and went on his way. His dead eyes had given Chris the creeps and she stared after him for a second before she found the will to keep scanning items. Batteries. *Beep* Baby carrots. *Beep* Letting the scanning rhythm soothe her nerves, Chris pushed the strange man out of her mind and occupied herself with trying to identify the next customer. It didn¡¯t take long for the item choice to start feeling familiar to her. Chocolate ice cream. *Beep* Suspicion confirmed. ¡°Debbie,¡± Chris said, looking up from her job. ¡°Damn it!¡± Chris smiled at the teenager in front of her. The girl was blonde and blue-eyed, just like Chris. In another life, they could have been sisters. Feeling a soft smile creep onto her face, Chris lightly shook her head, trying and failing to hold back a chuckle. Debbie scowled at Chris¡¯ reaction, crossed her arms and stomped her right foot in frustration. ¡°How do you always know!?¡± Debbie shouted. ¡°Chocolate ice cream,¡± Chris said. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯ve said that before,¡± Debie grumbled, pouting. ¡°But even if I don¡¯t get any, you figure it out anyway.¡± ¡°Well¡­¡± Chris said, trying not to laugh, ¡°there are other things too, not just the ice cream.¡± ¡°Like?¡± ¡°Well¡­ it¡¯s no one individual item¡­ it¡¯s the mixture of items¡­ the combination¡­¡± Debbie groaned. ¡°Well, whatever,¡± the petulant teenager said. ¡°I¡¯m not going to give up on ice cream just so you can¡¯t figure me out.¡± ¡°You shouldn¡¯t¡­¡± Debbie glared at her. Chris bit her lip and held up her hands in appeasement. The girl¡¯s glare intensified before she looked at the line behind her, rolled her eyes and relented. ¡°Ugh, whatever¡­¡± Debbie said. ¡°There¡¯s always tomorrow¡­¡± Debbie narrowed her eyes even more, going into DEFCON-1, and Chris looked down to stop herself from laughing. She¡¯d met Debbie at the very beginning of her cashier career. At the time, the girl had still gone grocery shopping with her mother and Chris hadn¡¯t yet learned the secret of not talking to customers. Over time, Debbie had taken over the responsibility of the Higgins¡¯ weekly groceries and to this day, the girl was still the only one who had caught on to the game that Chris played with the grocery items. She¡¯d seen Debbie grow up and the girl was now at the age Chris had been when her parents died, six years ago. The thought brought up unpleasant memories from the past. At the time, her world had collapsed in itself. At sixteen, she hadn¡¯t been old enough to take care of her eleven-year-old sister. The state had taken her sister away from her, days after the car accident had taken away both of their parents. Chris had wanted to give up on everything at the time, but the thought of her sister all alone had made her toughen up and get her act together. She¡¯d spent the next six months after the accident getting her GED early and the following three eating scraps, working and saving every cent she had for a three-month deposit for rent at a trailer park. It was the only thing she¡¯d been able to afford, but it was enough to get Rin back. In many ways, it was too late; after nine months with the state, her twelve-year-old sister was unrecognizable from the eleven-year-old that had been taken away from her. Chris had spent the last five years trying to get that sister back, but it seemed like the carefree old Rin was lost forever. Chris wondered what would have happened if her parents hadn¡¯t died, if Rin would have turned out more like Debbie. If, under different circumstances, she still could. Mayonnaise. *Beep* Ketchup. *Beep* Bread. *Beep* Sardines. Eew. ¡°Really?¡± Chris asked, looking up. ¡°Ugh, I know,¡± Debbie said. ¡°Dad wanted them.¡± They looked at each other in mutual understanding. ¡°Gross,¡± they both said at the same time. Chris grinned, Debbie laughed in response and all was forgiven. Raspberry jam. *Beep* ¡°Your total is thirty-seven, twenty-nine.¡± ¡°It¡¯s so lame that you have to say that line every time.¡± ¡°If I don¡¯t, the register won¡¯t acknowledge the total.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ I know. But still,¡± Debbie said. ¡°It sorta makes me feel like they¡¯re trying to turn you into a robot.¡± ¡°I hope not¡­¡± ¡°Yeah, me too. I still have to win one against you.¡± ¡°Win one?¡± ¡°Yep, I¡¯m gonna do it if it¡¯s the last thing I do on this earth.¡± ¡°You know, you could just buy different things¡­ I wouldn¡¯t be able to tell if you just came here and bought sixty bottles of water.¡± ¡°That would be cheating!¡± ¡°Okay then¡­.¡± Chris said, watching the girl scan her e-card. Five small, bluish hologram faces appeared, two on top and three below. The faces were hidden except for one that grew while the others disintegrated. Debbie¡¯s hologram grew to fit her face, overlapped with her features to check her identity and flashed green before it, too, subsided. ¡°Guess I¡¯ll see you next week.¡± ¡°You will!¡± Debbie took her things from the automatic bagging machine, swiveled around and stomped off. Chris chuckled at the sight and felt a stab of guilt as she compared Debbie to her own sister. Debbie and Rin were the same age, but so very different from one another. Chris couldn¡¯t help but blame herself. She had tried to provide for Rin as best as she could, but she knew it hadn''t been good enough. Rin wasn¡¯t getting the education she should. Chris couldn¡¯t give her all that she wanted. Worst of all, she couldn¡¯t give Rin that carefree gleam she always caught in Debbie¡¯s eyes. Chris took a deep breath, trying to put the pain and worries away. These she knew would return within the hour, but still she had to try to forget. Compartmentalize and forget. For now. Chris looked at the band of doom before her. It was constant through any kind of turmoil. Windex. *Beep* Paper towels. *Beep* Butter. *Beep* Strawberry yogurt. *Beep* Chris''s eyes wandered toward the clock at the top right of her display. 11:47pm. She wondered if Rin had received her message. She had sent it before the beginning of her second shift, one she¡¯d agreed to fill in for last minute. In another thirteen minutes, she would be able to check her phone during the break. Chris sighed, knowing they would be the longest thirteen minutes of the whole shift. Over time, she had learned that the secret to a fast shift was ignoring the clock entirely. Once you looked at it, you wouldn''t be able to look away, and once you weren¡¯t able to look away, time would stand still, as if to spite you. Her eyes wandered back as if to prove a point. 11:48pm. A bag of flour. *Beep.* 11:49pm. ¡°Damn it,¡± Chris muttered under her breath. She sighed, castigating herself before being distracted by a small commotion at the entrance of the store. One of the new guys whose name she didn''t remember was bringing the manager to speak to two men. With their cheap suits, starched shirts and ill-concealed weapons, she could immediately tell they were cops. She stiffened and brought her attention back to scanning. She could feel a lump of cold dread in her stomach. It appeared every time she saw a cop. This was twenty times worse than the discomfort she felt when worrying about her daily fears and she could barely focus on the task before her. Chris let her body take over. Her brain was useless anyway, too busy worrying if the cops were there for her. Common sense told her they weren''t. Common sense told her there was no proof. No proof she was guilty. An image of her storage unit, surrounded by cops and flashing lights, came to mind. She shuddered at the thought and peeked at the trio of men. They were still standing at the entrance, and by the looks of it, nothing bad was going to happen. Everyone seemed calm, no one was screaming. The placid scene didn¡¯t match the turmoil Chris was feeling inside. Trying to convince herself it had nothing to do with her, Chris turned back to the groceries in front of her. After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few seconds, she felt the lump in her stomach ease incrementally. Every time she came across cops, she felt the same dread and every time, it was a false alarm. Chris couldn''t help looking at the men once more before taking a more relaxed breath. They couldn¡¯t be here for her. She¡¯d distanced herself from Eddie a long time ago, hadn¡¯t even seen him for years, almost as long as her parents had been dead. She slowly managed to calm herself down. Chris checked out the next customer and snuck another look at the entrance. The manager had walked off and the men were heading down toward aisle three. She let out a shuddering breath of relief. They weren¡¯t here for her after all. Cops needed food, or cleaning products or¡­ floss. They weren¡¯t bogeymen, they were just humans who happened to be police. Chris looked at them once more as they disappeared into the baked goods aisle. She smiled wryly, thinking about cops giving into the whole donut cliche. That thought almost made her laugh in shaky, uncertain relief and she returned her attention to the groceries. Most of the lump was slowly dissolving into a niggling sensation she knew wouldn''t leave until they left or she was home. She checked the time. 11:59pm. Looking up, she saw the new guy headed towards her to relieve her for her break. Absentmindedly, she turned her attention back to the black band of doom. Doughnuts. *Beep.* Chris looked up in time to see two cops flashing badges in her face. "Christina Bolen, you are under arrest for the murder of Edward McKlose. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult an attorney..." Chapter 2: EDITED VERSION Metropolis - Lower 56th Prison Tuesday, May 5th, 2089 | 11:19am She¡¯d been there for three days, but still couldn¡¯t get used to the smell of stale sweat and urine that permeated everything. With money, she could have paid for a nicer, cleaner, company-built cell. Most of them were nicer than even her own home, but she didn¡¯t have any money for that kind of luxury. She¡¯d ended up in one of the public cells, not funded by any of the companies, barely even funded by the state. The other people in her cell seemed fine with the smell and the idea of wearing the same clothes day in and day out. The drunk guy they had brought in the night before could be considered an exception. All he was wearing were boxers and a left sock, so you could make an argument that he hated wearing dirty clothes ¨C or any clothes, for that matter ¨C even more than she did. Chris sighed. He, at least, like most of the prisoners they rotated through her cell, knew he would be getting out in a few hours. The other two people who had been there ¡®long-term¡¯ like her didn¡¯t seem to mind their situation much. One was a woman in a suit with a perpetually bored expression and impeccable hair. Chris considered this an incredible feat, seeing as she had been there since Chris arrived. Her own hair, she knew, was hanging around her face in limp, greasy strands. The other was a nondescript man with a nondescript face who had done and said nothing of note since she arrived. All Chris did was watch people every day, and since there were only ever up to five of them, she would have noticed. Focusing on her external surroundings was the only way she could make it through the hours without going crazy worrying over her sister. Every time anxious thoughts started to overwhelm her, crushing her mind, she shifted her focus to analyze her surroundings. Chris had not always been an analyst, an observer. She used to be rash, acting first, thinking and asking for permission later. Life had taught her to be different. At first, it had been the only way she didn¡¯t drown in self-pity. She had just needed to look around, look at the world, to know that there were people out there with situations much worse than her own. After the accident, it was the only thing that had helped. Every time after that, it became easier, until eventually Chris almost started to see the world as a list of facts. Maybe she was being too cold and emotionless like Rin had claimed, but it was the only way she could keep going. Now, more than ever, she needed it. She knew she was innocent, but no one else seemed to. From the moment of her arrest, everyone had assumed her guilt without listening to her side. Chris had heard stories about people who ¡®fell through the cracks¡¯ of the system, but she had never expected to be one of them. At first, she had tried being outspoken, but , if anything, that had made things worse. After three whole days in jail, she hadn¡¯t managed to contact her sister once. All she had managed to do was meet the most incompetent person on the face of the planet: Barry Andrews, her lawyer. In their one-hour meeting, he had managed to show up ten minutes late, talk about the wrong case for thirty minutes, waste ten locating the right one and then ten trying to convince her to plead guilty without even listening to her side of the story. In the end, Chris didn¡¯t even know what had led to her being accused of murder. She hadn¡¯t seen Eddie McKlose for years, yet somehow everyone thought she was responsible for his murder. It didn¡¯t make any sense to her. Even if someone knew about her stash, Eddie had nothing to do with it. Threatening her with Eddie¡¯s death was also a stupid idea when she had absolutely no feelings for the guy, not anymore. Everyone knew that the only person Chris cared about was Rin. Tears started sliding down her face as her heart rate rose. She had spent every one of her phone calls on Rin, tried any other way she could think of to contact her sister, but it had all been useless. Three days of uncertainty were starting to get to her, though she cared more about Rin¡¯s safety than she did about the possibility of jail. Chris slammed her knuckles into the concrete floor, slightly comforted by the dull wave of pain she felt run through her arm. Shoving thoughts of Rin aside, Chris forced herself to look at the facts. She was allowed one call a day and she¡¯d used all three of them on Rin over the last three days. It was not too far-fetched an idea that they had just missed each other. Barry Andrews was a useless man; it would not surprise her if he had completely forgotten her request to look into Rin¡¯s safety and whereabouts. Chris spent a while longer calming herself, finally just telling herself it was stupid to worry about anything in a jail cell. There was nothing she could do from behind bars, locked away from the outside world. If everything really was a mistake, she would be able to clear it up. There would be evidence showing it wasn¡¯t her. The only way she could really end up falling through the cracks was if this had been done to screw her over. In the off chance that this had anything to do with her storage locker, she would hear about it. For now, there was nothing she could do but breathe and wait. *** Several hours later, Chris was still absentmindedly keeping an eye on her surroundings. She sat on the floor with her back against the metal bars, not trusting the mattresses on the beds. Her spot had the added benefit of the best ventilation in the cramped cell. With four other prisoners and their body odor, she was quite thankful for any molecule of fresh air she could get. Looking at the faces around her, she couldn¡¯t help but envy them a little. They knew, if not their fate, at least the road that had led them there and the one that would lead them away. The drunk man had finally been given a set of CC clothes and he¡¯d been on his way with nothing to show for it other than a pair of bloodshot eyes. Chris had taken the opportunity to look around her cell and notice her cellmates¡¯ clothes. Unless you were very rich, your clothes were branded, belonging to some kind of clothing package that helped whichever company was branding you, to advertise. Humans had become walking billboards, Chris¡¯ own clothes were all part of last year¡¯s MarcoSoft¡¯s brand package. Every piece of clothing she owned had a little MS logo on it and would until she ended her clothing contract with them. Seeing as clothes would be totally unaffordable to her without a contract, that wasn¡¯t going to happen. In exchange for affordable clothes, all she had to do was be a walking billboard until her contract expired. It wasn¡¯t a bad deal, which was why virtually everyone had a clothing contract. Scanning the cell to confirm her suspicions, she saw big company logos everywhere except for the nondescript man. She¡¯d finally found something of note about him. Chris smirked and was wondering how rich the man was to afford a brandless lifestyle when a part of her mind registered the footsteps coming down the corridor. Concentrating, she closed her eyes.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Happy with the opportunity to distract herself from her morose thoughts, she dulled the rest of her senses to concentrate on her hearing. The sharp tap of each footstep indicated that he was wearing new shoes, the soles unworn. The slight muffled scrape that followed meant it was leather, or maybe pleather. The shoes were too big to be a woman''s, and they were definitely not heels. A man then, but not one of the guards. By now, she knew all of their footsteps. None of them had shoes like that, but more importantly, none of them had that stride. Chris could already tell that this was a confident man, not easily influenced by those around him. Most people in a jail ended up with hurried, shuffling steps. There was nothing like that about this stranger¡¯s gait. Each step was slow and measured, echoing longer, louder and clearer than any she had heard before. Chris was so caught up in her mental vision of the man that she almost didn¡¯t notice when he came to a stop right behind her. A couple of seconds passed silently before she heard one of the most beautiful baritone voices she had ever heard, silky and rich. ¡°You must be Ms.Christina Bolen.¡± Chris¡¯s eyes snapped open, but she didn¡¯t let her surprise manifest in any other way. The man was still behind her and so he couldn¡¯t see her expression. She wanted to keep it that way until she composed herself. ¡°Depends on who¡¯s asking.¡± ¡°It wasn¡¯t a question.¡± ¡°You¡¯re kind of rude for a fancy-schmancy lawyer.¡± She turned her head to get a good look at him. With his tailored suit, styled black hair, tan skin and piercing blue eyes, he was beautiful. He reminded her of someone, but she couldn¡¯t remember who. ¡°How did you know I was a ¡®fancy-schmancy¡¯ lawyer?¡± he asked, bringing Chris¡¯s awareness back to the man looming above her. ¡°You¡¯re in jail,¡± she said, her tone of someone pointing out the obvious. He smiled indulgently. ¡°And?¡± ¡°Aaand, the only people who wear nice clothes, silk ties, polished leather shoes and a little too much expensive cologne in jail... are lawyers.¡± He cracked a grin. ¡°I am Castiel Suerte,¡± he said with polished politeness, ¡°And you are right. I am a lawyer, here on behalf of FieldGreen Incorporated, offering my services on your case.¡± He waved a case folder in front of him. Chris pulled her legs slowly to her body, giving herself time to think before she got up and faced him. The height difference was glaring; it always was. The man was over a foot taller than her, but she was used to it and didn¡¯t let it faze her. She smiled a little when he took a step back so he didn¡¯t have to look down at her at such a neck-crimping angle. ¡°Guess they forgot to put my height into those files,¡± she muttered under her breath. She hadn¡¯t meant for him to hear her, so she wasn¡¯t expecting the gleam of white teeth he flashed her way. It was a masculine smile of epic proportions; any other woman would have swooned at the sight, but Chris found herself oddly detached and unaffected by it. ¡°Why?¡± she asked, trying to get the conversation back on track. ¡°Your firm will gain nothing from me.¡± He opened his mouth to answer, but she interrupted with more. ¡°I have no money,¡± she said. ¡°But I am guessing that if you know how to make enough money to afford suits like that,¡± she gestured at his suit, ¡°you already knew that.¡± He eyed her speculatively before answering affirmatively. ¡°Yes. I am aware.¡± ¡°So then. Why?¡± ¡°My firm tries to take on as many pro bono cases as the workload allows.¡± ¡°That isn¡¯t really an answer. There are hundreds, thousands of cases every day. So, why me?¡± There was a pause while he assessed her. ¡°You are innocent.¡± Chris felt her heart skip a beat. Someone believed her. Someone actually believed she was innocent, that she hadn¡¯t killed Eddie. ¡°If you sign this document, I will become your lawyer.¡± He handed her a piece of paper, which she accepted in a daze. After three days of continuous accusations and being treated like a murderer, she didn¡¯t know how to react when someone believed her. He handed her a pen. She took it and with shaky hand and brought it to the page. Chris was about to sign it when instinct kicked in. There was no way she was going to sign something without reading it first, but before she that, she considered her not-yet-lawyer. He was hiding something from her. She looked at the document, printed with a nice letterhead on fine paper. Chris eyed him with obvious suspicion, conveying with her eyes that she knew he hadn¡¯t told her everything. A successful man, as he obviously was, wouldn¡¯t want to have anything to do with someone like her. He wanted something from her, but Chris didn¡¯t know what it could be; she had nothing to give. An image of her storage shed popped into her head, but she immediately pushed it away. It couldn¡¯t be about the paintings, she was just being paranoid. She had to be. Chris tried waiting him out for an answer, seeing if he would give himself away without further prodding, but instead he just said, ¡°I know Barry Andrews.¡± Chris cringed, knowing he had her there. Being represented by a hippopotamus would probably be the better choice. Flattening her features she said, ¡°Yes, I do too.¡± ¡°So then you know¡­¡± He was appealing to her common sense, but if anything, that just made her more wary of working for him. With him. Working with him. Knitting her eyebrows together, she wondered where the thought had come from. Something told her to sign the document. Something else, namely her common sense, told her not to listen to that first something. She read the document she still held in her hands, buying herself time to think. It had nothing completely binding on it, merely stating that she was switching Barry out for this unknown entity, Castiel Suerte. ¡°Yes,¡± Chris finally said, having come to a decision. ¡°He¡¯s the devil I know.¡± Chris looked at him. His eyes gave nothing away. Not a trace of emotion could be seen. It was like looking at a wall. A wall painted with a beautiful blue, but a wall nonetheless. Ignoring all the somethings in her head, she signed it. If worse came to worst, she would just end up with Barry representing her again. Chris cringed at the thought. A guard opened the cell door and Chris followed her new lawyer down the hall. She listened to the echoes of her footsteps mixed with theirs. Against the concrete floor, they sounded foreboding, almost like she was walking toward her execution. With a guard leading the procession ahead of Suerte and another behind herself, Chris couldn¡¯t help but wonder if she¡¯d made the right decision. Halfway down the hall, they had to pass through a locked checkpoint. They waited a moment for the heavy metal door to clank its way open. Chris had gone down the hall before so she thought nothing of it until the final loud clanging sound echoed down the empty hall. A guillotine slicing an end to life, the life she¡¯d had before Saturday night. Chris took a deep breath as the guard started moving forwards again. She didn¡¯t want to leave that life behind, but she didn¡¯t see what other choice she had. Without good options, Chris followed. A feeling of dread slowly settled deep in her stomach. A slight tremor traveled down her body as she thought about her new attorney. She couldn¡¯t help feeling like she had given her soul over to the devil. Chapter 3: EDITED VERSION Metropolis - Lower 56th Prison Conference Room Tuesday, May 5th, 2089 | 2:53pm After they reached one of the precincts conference rooms, the guard came to a halt. They waited again as he went through the process of opening the door through retinal identification. Chris had to force herself to stand still and keep her hands at her sides. She wanted to wring them in discomfort, but she didn¡¯t want to let on any weaknesses, at least not in front of people she didn¡¯t know. Chris had signed on to give Castiel Suerte a shot, but she had no idea who he was or what he wanted. So far, she hadn¡¯t been able to get a good read on him. Unlike her, he stood ramrod straight and still as he waited for the guard to finish opening the door. When he noticed Chris¡¯ surveillance of him, he looked at her and flashed her a grin Chris knew would melt dozens of hearts in an instant. Fortunately, hers wasn¡¯t one of them. The situation being what it was, left no room for fanciful thoughts of romance. Seeing as her sister was still MIA as far as she was concerned, his relaxed attitude was actually grating on her nerves a bit. Having had the walk from the cell to consider her new predicament, Chris was now sure there was something fishy going on. The man was in his mid-thirties as far as Chris could tell which probably meant that he wasn¡¯t an entry-level lawyer at his firm. In fact, his clothes already went a long way in proving the exact opposite on their own. With his high-end brand-less suit, this man would never have been in charge of a mandatory pro-bono case. He was here because he wanted to be. So the real question was why. Chris couldn¡¯t think of a reason why she would be of interest to anyone, much less anyone as high-end as this man obviously was. She considered the storage locker paintings for half a second before immediately shooting the possibility down. Being poor, she¡¯d chosen run-of-the-mill self-storage with minimal security procedures in place. If someone knew what was in there and wanted access to it, they¡¯d just need a free afternoon and some bolt-cutters, no need to stage a crime and send her to jail. She watched the lawyer carefully as the guard messed up his input sequence and had to start the time consuming process all over. It gave her enough time to realize that if Suerte was as wealthy as she assumed he was, then he must have some ulterior motive for helping her. Money is power and powerful people always have an ulterior motive, Chris just couldn¡¯t see how she factored into any of it. If he was as rich as he seemed, then he probably didn¡¯t even work the usual fifteen hours a week. With his apparent status, he could almost forego work altogether if he so pleased. If a man like him was willing to sacrifice a whole day¡¯s work on her¡­ Well, she didn¡¯t have an answer for that. Men like him just didn¡¯t do things like that unless there was something in it for them or they were somehow forced to¡­. That thought gave her pause as she considered the possibility of a much greater power behind the scenes, but as her mind headed for the suspicious conspiracy theory paths it had learned during her years of mind-numbing work, she decided it was time to retrace her steps and wait until she knew more. As if agreeing with the decision, the door then finally beeped in acquiescence to the guard¡¯s second attempt. The room behind the door was different but identical to the one she¡¯d visited earlier in the week with Barry. It was windowless and bare with the exception of a steel table and four chairs, all of which were bolted to the ground. The only decoration that added some color into the room was the flashing red light on the camera in the corner. Suerte stepped aside and motioned Chris into the room. The man truly was a specimen of impeccable chivalry. Most girls would have blushed at the beautiful man¡¯s dashing smile, Chris nodded and walked by him, into the room. As she made her way around the table, he followed her in and closed the door, leaving the guards to fend for themselves outside. The moment the solid metal door closed, they were allowed complete privacy for an hour. The camera in the corner would be visually recording everything that happened, but anything they said would remain confidential. Trying to settle down, she took a deep breath and tried to be less suspicious of her lawyer. There was always a possibility that he was exactly who he claimed to be without a hidden agenda. Maybe she just needed to accept good fortune as it came her way for the very first time in a very long time. Suerte took a seat opposite from her, opened his suit button with a smooth practiced motion and once more smiled at her as he laid down his briefcase. Any more smiles and she would be sick. He took out a stack of folders and neatly placed them in front of him. Every move he made was meticulous and thought out. Despite herself, she got caught up in the graceful movements of the Herculean man and before she noticed she was staring straight at him, and he was staring right back. ¡°S-so, how does this work?¡± she stammered, trying to cover up the discomfort she felt. She hadn¡¯t expected to be caught staring like a teenage moonstruck girl. ¡°Well,¡± he said, smiling indulgently, ¡°usually when a lawyer and a client get together, they discuss the case and the strategy they will take in court if and when it comes to that.¡± Suerte gave her a moment to let his words sink in, steepling his perfectly manicured fingers in front of him as he waited. Chris eyed him suspiciously, still not being able to shake off the feeling of dread she¡¯d acquired on their way from the holding cell. ¡°Usually.¡± He nodded. ¡°But not today,¡± she said, probing. It was a test. She wanted him to refute her, to tell him that he really was just there to represent her interests, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized that a man like him would never come help her. At least not without something in return. Chris held her breath, waiting for the charming lawyer¡¯s response, but the way he raised his brows in surprise already told her more than enough. She was right, there was no such thing as altruistic philanthropy. ¡°Well¡­¡± he hedged, ¡°Why don¡¯t we talk about your case first.¡± Chris straightened her back against the chair and set up her usual defenses, masking her emotions as well as she could, which unfortunately wasn¡¯t very well at all. As a child, she¡¯d always worn her heart on her sleeve and although she¡¯d gotten better at keeping her feelings to herself over the years, she¡¯d never been able to completely shake the expressiveness she¡¯d inherited from her father. ¡°Alright,¡± Chris said, ¡°Let¡¯s.¡± She crossed her arms, instinctively setting up a defense barrier between herself and her new potential enemy. Meanwhile, Suerte took out a black little stick and held it out for her to see. ¡°Mind if I put this meeting on the record?¡± Chris pursed her lips, and considered. She couldn¡¯t see him using anything she said against her, especially since she was innocent, if anything it could actually help her. Depending on what it was Suerte wanted from her and what he said on record¡­ ¡°Do I get a copy?¡± He smiled, but said, ¡°No.¡± She appreciated the straightforward answer without bullshit excuses. ¡°Didn¡¯t think so,¡± she muttered and shrugged before saying, ¡°Yeah, sure. Go ahead, don¡¯t see why not.¡± He nodded his thanks, activated it and set the slim black stick aside, about a hand''s-width apart from the folder stack. He placed it in perfect parallel without even looking at it. Chris shifted her eyes back to the folders and saw how neatly the pages were all bundled together. It looked like a stack of freshly unpacked paper, the kind you¡¯re usually never able to go back to. Her eyes then wandered back to the man for a closer examination of his person. There wasn¡¯t a hair out of place on the perfect head of voluminous hair. His eyebrows were perfectly sculpted and his jaw, although perfectly shaven, had a uniform perma-stubble that made his face all that more pleasurable to look at. His suit looked like it had been ironed onto his body and if she hadn¡¯t already made up her mind about the man¡¯s compulsive meticulousness, the tie would have convinced her. It was tied in a perfect triangular knot made up of three parts of the tie that wove into each other. Chris was still admiring it, when Suerte spoke up. ¡°How about we cover the basics first, just to make sure we are on the same page?¡± Chris doubted that would be the case but nodded anyway. Suerte took the first folder from the stack and moved the rest of the stack aside, to the left, once more perfectly placing it without a glance. Left with only the first folder, he set it squarely in front of him on the table and opened it. ¡°Let¡¯s see here,¡± he said. ¡°Christina Faith Bolen, born on the 15th of May, 2067 in Metropolis¡¯ 56th district, currently 22 years of age.¡± She nodded. ¡°Parents died on the 2nd of February, 2083, leaving you with an eleven year old dependent.¡± Chris nodded again, a little slower. ¡°The state took her off your hands, but you chose to take her back after acquiring your GED six months later, foregoing a real basic school diploma.¡± Chris nodded, and tried as hard as she could to keep the rest of her face blank. The information wasn¡¯t secret, but you would have to go look for it to actually find it. It worried her that the man had gone through the trouble. ¡°Currently enrolled in Metropolis¡¯ 56th district university¡¯s business program, set to graduate on the 22nd of May of this year.¡± She nodded, suddenly wondering if it would even come to that. Even though she¡¯d been locked up for the last three days, she¡¯d never considered the possibility of not getting out. The sudden morose thought scared her and she pushed it out of her mind, trying to convince herself that everything would be fine. It had to be, she needed it to be, Rin needed it to be. If Chris ended up in prison, her sister would have absolutely no one, and Chris made a promise to herself. Taking care of Rin, that was her priority. Rin was her responsibility, her only responsibility. It was her fault that things had turned out the way they did, and she needed to deal with the consequences to try and make up for it. ¡°Works ¡®part-time¡¯ at the SuperMart on 48th and 21st street and yet¡­ ¡° he said, raising his eyebrows, ¡°has an average workweek of over eighty hours a week.¡± His expression clearly showed that he was impressed and maybe even a little skeptical of the fact. Chris merely nodded to ascertain him that it was true. It wasn¡¯t surprising that someone like him would consider her work-hours to be outlandish. If he really was brandless, then he probably didn¡¯t even work the standard twenty hour work-week. He probably didn¡¯t have to, which made the effort he was putting into her case all the more surprising. ¡°Lives in Metropolis¡¯ 56th district, government-funded shelter B2, module 6B¡ª¡± ¡°Government-funded my ass,¡± Chris muttered thinking of how Nova Inc. Been in charge of the shelter areas for as long as she could remember. Rent was cheaper than anywhere else by a long shot, but in turn, the company pretty much owned everyone¡¯s consumption. Any and all shops in the shelter areas were owned by Nova Inc. Or one of its subsidiaries. The same was true for all the other shelters, but not always with the same company. It was just the way things were, for as long as she could remember. Her parents had talked about a time when the government had more say than the companies, but that time was long gone and Chris couldn¡¯t remember it even though a lot of the changes had happened in recent years, during her lifetime.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Suerte grinned at her outburst, but didn¡¯t comment as he continued on with his increasingly disturbing report on her person, ¡°Currently has a 16 year-old dependent of the name Tamara Bolen. Relation: Sister.¡± Chris nodded again, feigning nonchalance, but felt her heart swell at the thought of her sister being dragged into her mess. ¡°Rin attends Metropolis¡¯ 56th district tier 1 high school.¡± Internally, Chris froze at the mention of Rin¡¯s nickname. So far her accommodating lawyer had stated facts that could mostly be discovered in public record, but the fact that he knew her nickname, even if it was widely used among her sister¡¯s friends, meant that the man hadn¡¯t relied on just the records. The mental image of someone secretly invading her sister¡¯s life, made Chris apprehensive. At the same time, it also dawned on her that the man across from her probably had all the information she wanted about Rin¡¯s well being in one of those pages in front of him. Chris tightened her crossed arms around herself, trying to decide on what was more important. The knowledge her sister was safe, or keeping her vulnerabilities hidden from this man. ¡°Yes, she¡¯s a very good student,¡± Chris said, sticking to the subject of her sister to see if he would say more. ¡°So I see,¡± Suerte said, watching her closely. Chris gnawed at her inner lip and realized she¡¯d already given herself away by saying anything at all when she¡¯d been so stoic about his report on her. Sighing, she resigned to the fact that he probably already knew anyway. From her history with her sister, it wouldn¡¯t be too hard to work out her priorities in life. Dropping all pretenses, Chris asked, ¡°Can you tell me if she¡¯s safe?¡± Suerte raised his eyebrows in surprise and asked, ¡°You haven¡¯t talked to her yet?¡± Chris pursed her lips, regretting her question after all. However, seeing as she¡¯d already dipped her toe in the water, she figured she might as well plunge right in. At least she was sure the man could provide her with the information she wanted and be sure of it. A sour taste coated her mouth as she thought about Barry, who she¡¯d also asked to look into Rin¡¯s safety. That had been over 24 hours ago and she hadn¡¯t heard from him since. ¡°No, I haven¡¯t,¡± Chris said, feeling incompetent as a sister and the supposed caretaker. What kind of person was she that couldn¡¯t even take care of her own sister? Chris was judging already judging herself, so she found herself looking away from Suerte, not wanting to face his judgment as well. She expected him to say something else, but when he didn¡¯t and the silence thickened, she looked back at her lawyer to find him swiping at his forearm. Chris blinked in surprise. She hadn¡¯t seen someone with an implant, but she¡¯d heard about it on the news. However, seeing as the big companies advertised hundreds of different projects they had planned, or were ¡®developing¡¯, she hadn¡¯t expected to see someone with a bit implant for quite some time, if ever. ¡°Sorry about that,¡± Suerte said, before once more turning toward her. ¡°Where were we?¡± Suerte looked down at the folder in front of him and straightened it slightly. ¡°My sister,¡± Chris said. Chris watched as the compulsive man adjusted imperfections invisible to her before she saw something surprising. So far, Suerte had been completely composed and methodical in all of his movements. His eyes and body language gave nothing away, but as he stared into the folder in front of him, she saw an internal struggle which she did not comprehend. Finally, after what felt like minutes, but was probably only really seconds, Suerte gently closed the folder with enviable precision and set it aside to his right, on the other side of the slim black recording device. Though, if he had a bit implant, she really didn¡¯t see why he needed one. From what she¡¯d seen on the vids, the implant functioned just as good, if not better, than any standard smart device. When Suerte finally looked back at her, his gaze, though as direct as always, was suddenly different in a way she couldn¡¯t really explain. It was as if he was seeing her as a real person for the first time. Caught off guard by his penetrating stare, Chris found herself shifting backwards in her chair a bit. ¡°Chris¡­¡± Suerte said, ¡°is it all right if I call you that?¡± Chris bobbed her head in acquiescence. ¡°Good, then let me ask you something,¡± he said. ¡°Exactly how much do you know about the situation you are in?¡± ¡°Well¡­¡± Chris started, unsure of how forthright she wanted to be. She sighed as she looked at the immaculate Adonis in front of her, and decided it didn¡¯t matter. If Suerte didn¡¯t already know everything about her, he would be able to easily find out. ¡°I was at work on Saturday, when two policemen suddenly showed up out of the blue and arrested me.¡± Suerte nodded, their roles inverted, motioning her to keep going. ¡°They said I was accused of killing Eddie¡­¡± Chris said. ¡°But it¡¯s just a huge misunderstanding. I wasn¡¯t even home when they said it happened.¡± Chris gritted her teeth just thinking about how none of the policemen had been willing to listen to her side of the story. ¡°They told me to wait for my lawyer, which I did¡­.¡± Chris said. ¡°You only saw Barry yesterday though,¡± Suerte said. It was a statement, but Chris knew it was an invitation for her to elaborate on it if she wanted. ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Chris said. ¡°Apparently it was already too late on Saturday and Barry never did show up on Sunday. I only saw him for half an hour and most of the time he was talking about someone else¡¯s case.¡± Suerte just raised his eyebrows in response. ¡°They gave me the option to call for my own representation but¡­¡± Chris said, ¡°Well. Not only do I not have money, I also don¡¯t know any lawyers. So instead I used all of my calls trying to reach my sister. Unfortunately, I wasn¡¯t able to reach her at all, not even when I tried the house directly.¡± Chris probed for some information on Rin once more. However, if Suerte noticed, he didn¡¯t let on. Instead, he gave her a piece of information that chilled her to the bone. ¡°That last part does not surprise me,¡± Suerte said. ¡°Your home has been blocked off by the police.¡± ¡°What, why!?¡± ¡°Because it¡¯s the place of a crime scene.¡± Chris¡¯ eyes widened in shock, she leaned forward, needing to know more. ¡°W-.. Y-you mean¡­¡± Chris wasn¡¯t able to finish her sentence. Suerte eyed her evenly for a moment before speaking again. ¡°Yes, Eddie was murdered in your house.¡± Mouth dry, Chris slumped back in her chair as she thought about the connotations of that piece of information. Rin. ¡°M-My s-sister¡­¡± Chris croaked. Until then she¡¯d been worried, very worried, but now she was petrified that something might have happened to Rin. Suerte¡¯s silence on the subject worried her even more and she suddenly felt an urge to throw something at him, or at least shake him to get at the information he was hoarding and she so desperately needed. ¡°P-please¡­¡± she begged. ¡°Edward McKlose was found dead in your trailer at circa 11pm on the 2nd of May. It was announced by the police by a certain Shelby Watts, a neighbor of yours, and the police was at the premises shortly thereafter.¡± Chris felt sick. She wanted to say something, tell him to tell her about Rin, but she couldn¡¯t find the words, not when they could give her an answer she didn¡¯t want. ¡°He was stabbed to death,¡± he rattled on matter-of-factly, seemingly unaware of the internal war she was going through. ¡°The murder weapon was a kitchen knife found next to the body. Your prints were all over the crime scene, but more importantly, they were all over the murder weapon. You are the main suspect, the only suspect.¡± He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in. ¡°They have determined you are guilty. You have been offered life with parole if you settle before court,¡± he finally concluded. The reality of the situation finally struck, and Chris realized she really might end up in jail. The blood drained from her face as the rest of her life flashed before her eyes. She¡¯d worked for so long, tried so hard and it was all going to be for nothing. ¡°B-but¡­ I didn¡¯t do it.¡± Suerte eyed her flatly. ¡°Do you think it matters?¡± ¡°B-but why?¡± Chris asked, as it suddenly dawned on her. ¡°Oh. Is that why you¡¯re here? You¡¯re trying to cover for who actually killed Eddie¡­¡± Suerte¡¯s flat stare remained unchanged, unaffected by her words, until eventually he sighed. ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°I am not representing Eddie¡¯s killer. In fact, we haven¡¯t been able to ascertain for sure who was responsible.¡± ¡°We?¡± she asked, wondering if he would finally reveal who he was working for. No way was Fieldgreen Incorporated, a company she¡¯d never heard of before, capable of fielding as many resources as Suerte was apparently able to wield. He simply smirked in return. ¡°Why would anyone want to frame me though?¡± Chris asked, ¡°I don¡¯t have any enemies¡­. Heck, I don¡¯t even have any friends!¡± ¡°That is indeed a mystery¡­¡± Suerte said noncommittally. Chris sighed and leaned forward with her elbows on the table, supporting her head with her hands as she stared down at the gleaming metal surface of the table. It felt cold against her skin and there were a few imperfections here and there, faint scratches and dents left by all the other occupants that had cycled through the same room. Occupants with more resources, occupants that weren¡¯t swallowed up by the system like she would be. She knew what it was like, money was power and she had none of it. Poverty was going to consume her in the end anyway, the poor were never innocent. She¡¯d busted her ass and it was all going to be for nothing. In two weeks she would have finally been able to join the educated work-force. Without a degree, she could only apply for automatable entry-level jobs. Jobs that were on their way to extinction, she thought she¡¯d avoided the culling, but it seemed like she¡¯d celebrated too soon. If convicted, she¡¯d never be able to get a job, even if she did make it out of prison. Gritting her teeth and straightening her back, Chris decided that the only course of option left to her was the one she¡¯d always taken. Fight. She had no clue who was plotting against her or why. If she were to believe Suerte, he didn¡¯t know either. Somehow, she believed him when he said he didn¡¯t know who it was. She might have read him wrong, but she decided to go with her instincts on the matter and trust him, at least for her purposes. ¡°Help me,¡± she said with conviction and a glint of steel in her eyes. ¡°Help you?¡± Suerte asked. ¡°Isn¡¯t that my job already as your lawyer?¡± ¡°So you say,¡± Chris said, not even trying to conceal her skepticism where he was concerned anymore. ¡°And yet I¡¯ve asked you about my sister multiple times and have still not received an answer.¡± Suerte¡¯s unresponsive yet direct gaze, gave nothing away. Aggravated, Chris breathed in sharply and closed her eyes. She¡¯d never had trouble containing her temper before, but then again she¡¯d never had to deal with this kind of situation before. After letting the pent up breath out in a measured, steady stream, Chris looked back at Suerte. ¡°If you went through the trouble to find out all of those things about be in the last three days¡­ and I assume it was last three days since you claim no involvement in my arrest, then you¡¯ve got to know where my sister is. Especially considering all the information you gathered up on not only me, but her as well. So please, just tell me if she¡¯s all right and then you can tell me why you¡¯re really here.¡± Suerte¡¯s gaze never wavered and Chris had no way of knowing what he was thinking about her outburst. She almost started regretting it by the time he finally took it upon himself to respond. ¡°Well,¡± he said. ¡°I really am here to help you¡­¡± His tone carried the message of a caveat. ` Chris straightened and asked, ¡°But?¡± ¡°No buts, not really anyway¡­ it¡¯s more of a proposal,¡± he said. ¡°And your sister is fine by the way.¡± ¡°Propo¡ª Wait, what? She¡¯s okay?! Where? How? What happened? Where was she during the¡­ t-the¡­ crime? Where is she now? She needs a place to sleep¡­ eat¡­¡± Chris rapidly rambled through the worries that had been plaguing her for the last couple of days until she realized she wasn¡¯t giving the man a chance to answer. She clamped her mouth shut and tried to remain still so she wouldn¡¯t miss anything. Suerte smiled softly, an expression she hadn¡¯t thought the precise and machine-like man to be capable of. It gave her the chills, she didn¡¯t want to find the man sympathetic. She preferred him as a sterile executive being. Chris needed to remain vigilant around him, it wasn¡¯t the time to be compassionate. He sure as hell wouldn¡¯t be. ¡°She¡¯s staying with a friend of hers, a certain Melanie Masters,¡± he said, finally giving Chris something substantial to hang on to. Chris knew Melanie, Rin had never brought her around the trailer, but she¡¯d met her on days where her presence as Rin¡¯s guardian was requested at the school. Rin was ashamed of their living conditions, especially since most of tier 1 students came from much more affluent backgrounds. Chris didn¡¯t blame her for it, she blamed herself. If she were a better caretaker, her sister would never have to worry about those kinds of things. ¡°As far as I know, she wasn¡¯t near the crime scene when it happened. Since the police shortly took command of the situation, I doubt she had a chance to go back in before they zoned it off. As for food¡­ I can only make assumptions.¡± Chris slumped back down on the chair, feeling like a massive weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She was in prison with a murder charge hanging over her head, but those problems suddenly seemed far more manageable. Rin was alright. Chris sighed and looked at Suerte. Having just given her the best information in the world, he was a lot more appealing. She was about to express her deep thanks, when she realized what he was doing. Chris immediately pursed her lips and brought up the same guard she¡¯d just promised herself to not drop. Although there was no guarantee that the conniving man was speaking the truth, Chris chose to believe him. If there was indeed some kind of ¡®proposal¡¯ involved, he would have nothing to gain by antagonizing her with lies which would become apparent in the next day or two. Clearing her thoughts of Rin was easier once she knew that her sister was safe, and she finally gave Suerte her undivided attention. ¡°Thank you,¡± Chris said simply, trying to keep as much emotion out of her voice as possible. He did not need to know how close she came to walking into his trap. He nodded once, acknowledging her gratitude. ¡°So,¡± she said. ¡°You were saying about a proposal?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± he said, ¡°I want you to plead guilty.¡± Chapter 4: EDITED VERSION Metropolis - Lower 56th Prison Conference Room Tuesday, May 5th, 2089 | 3:17pm ¡°W-what!?¡± Christ spluttered. ¡°That¡¯s not a proposal! That¡¯s a death sentence! Why would I plead guilty when I wasn¡¯t even there! I thought you were on my side, and not protecting whatever bastard it was that really did this!¡± Suerte nodded and nodded while she spoke, waiting until she was out of breath to respond. ¡°You won¡¯t be getting a death sentence.¡± ¡°How would you know?!¡± ¡°Despite what you might think,¡± he said, running a hand over his already straight tie, ¡°I am quite good at my job.¡± ¡°If you¡¯re so good, then make it so I don¡¯t have to go to prison at all!¡± ¡°Now,¡± he said, flattening his wide lips, ¡°that I can¡¯t do.¡± ¡°Why not!?¡± Chris asked, throwing her hands in the air. ¡°Because it would go against my interests.¡± ¡°You are interested in me going to jail!?¡± ¡°Well, yes,¡± he said matter-of-factly. ¡°Isn¡¯t that the reason I am here in the first place?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know! How would I know? You haven¡¯t told me anything! Why are you here!?¡± ¡°To recruit you.¡± ¡°Recruit me?¡± Chris asked, confused. ¡°What for?¡± ¡°That,¡± he said, grabbing the top folder from his remaining pile, ¡°I can only tell you after you sign this,¡± he said, placing the folder and opening it right in front of her. Chris looked at the pages inside, then back at Suerte to try and read his expression. Unfortunately he was as undecipherable as ever and she reverted her attention back to the document. It outlined, in great detail, a non-disclosure agreement. Anything Castiel Suerte ever said to her was to remain between the two of them unless Suerte gave the explicit authorization to do otherwise. Chris continued reading the document, trying to see if it would give any hints as to what Suerte wanted from her. However, by the time she got to the end of the five-page long document, all she¡¯d managed to do was ascertain that there were no loopholes that she could find and seeing as Suerte was probably the one that drafted it, there weren¡¯t going to be any. The iron-clad contract scared her more than she wanted to let on. Keeping her eyes down, she read and re-read the document once more. When she was certain she understood it as well as she could under the circumstances she looked back at Suerte. ¡°This document doesn¡¯t let me repeat anything that is said between us, but it doesn¡¯t say I have to do what you tell me to.¡± Suerte smirked. ¡°You aren¡¯t a child,¡± he said almost mockingly. Chris blushed in embarrassment, but refused to look away. ¡°I know, but why should I do anything you want me to?¡± ¡°You¡¯ll be adequately compensated.¡± ¡°Compensated!?!¡± Chris asked in bewilderment. ¡°How?! What could you possibly offer me that would make me want to go to jail for a decade!¡± Suerte tapped the folder in front of her in response. Aggravated by the man¡¯s antics, Chris took the pen from him and signed it. All the document did was prevent her from repeating their conversation to anyone, and seeing as she didn¡¯t intend on taking the man up on his offer, she didn¡¯t see the harm in signing it. Before she could even lay the pen down, Suerte had already straightened the pages inside the folder, closed it and set it on top of the ¡®used¡¯ folder pile. He was reaching for the next one when he suddenly stopped short and brought his arm back. Chris was confused for a moment as she watched the man before her fiddle with his forearm, then she remembered the implant. She watched Suerte fiddle with his forearm for a moment, trying to read his expression as he did so, but his face was as indecipherable as always. ¡°Ah,¡± he said a second later, ¡°saved by the bell.¡± Before she could even process his words, Suerte was already standing up and bundling all of his folders together again. Reflexively, she also got on her feet when Suerte took out his briefcase and put all of his folders inside, along with the little black recording device. ¡°By the bell?¡± she asked, confused. ¡°Have we been in here for that long?¡± ¡°For that¡­¡± Suerte started, ¡°Oh! No, no, no. We don¡¯t have the one hour limit thing.¡± ¡°We don¡¯t?¡± Chris asked, taken aback. ¡°I thought all¡ª¡± ¡°They do, but we don¡¯t,¡± he said simply, as if his words explained everything. ¡°¡­Okay?¡± Chris said, not knowing what else to say. She¡¯d known all along she was dealing with big players, but to be able to disregard police rules completely in this way, they had to be a lot further up the ladder than she¡¯d originally thought. It scared her, but she also couldn¡¯t deny the rush of curiosity. A minute ago she hadn¡¯t been too excited about agreeing to the man¡¯s terms, but seeing him leave now without giving her any answers also left a sour taste in her mouth. She had never planned on agreeing to his schemes so she didn¡¯t know why she was reacting this way. Balling her fists, Chris stepped around her chair and got ready to follow Suerte out of the room, but the moment she did so, he looked up at her in confusion. ¡°What are y¡ª Oh,¡± Suerte said and then smiled his usual heartthrob smile. ¡°No, no, no. We are far from over. I just thought you might like a little¡­ break. So I arranged for a little¡­ surprise.¡±If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Suerte was smiling as he clipped his briefcase shut, but Chris found herself fighting the urge to step back defensively. A small brittle smile graced her lips in response to his. She didn¡¯t like the way he said ¡®surprise¡¯, it made a shiver of dread crawl down her spine, but she stood stock-still hoping he wouldn¡¯t see through her. Suerte used his usual measured stroll to the door, giving Chris enough time to conjure the worst possible theories. By the time the guards opened the door on the other side Chris had convinced herself that Suerte was leaving to let in some kind of torturer that would ¡®soften her up¡¯ for the ¡®proposal¡¯. Her mouth was dry, her skin was crawling and she felt like running. Chris tried to reason with herself that nothing would happen, but when she looked up to see the camera without a blinking red light, she almost bolted outright. Chris took a deep breath to calm herself. Losing it at this point in time would only hurt her situation. She had no idea when the light had gone out, but knowing her lawyer, it hadn¡¯t been on at all during their conversation. She remembered seeing it when she walked into the room, but she¡¯d never looked back at it to make sure it was still recording. Chris let out the pent up breath, hoping the small measure of calm she¡¯d attained would remain. The whole situation was out of her hands anyway, she saw no point in fighting it only to lose out in the end anyway. ¡°I¡¯ll try to give you as much privacy as possible¡­¡± he said, accompanying his footsteps out the door. Chris felt her breath stuttering out of her lungs as she looked to the door, apprehensive of who would be joining her. What she saw when Suerte¡¯s back no longer blocked the doorway, completely took her breath away, immediately cutting off her air supply. It hadn¡¯t even crossed Chris¡¯ mind that Suerte would have brought her here. If Chris hadn¡¯t been too busy drinking in her sight, she might have felt a little guilty for expecting the worst from her silky smooth lawyer. He¡¯d brought her sister. Rin. Chris¡¯ knees went weak at the sight of her. Suerte had guaranteed Rin¡¯s safety, but Chris had still needed to see it for herself. Tears came to Chris¡¯ eyes as she ran towards Rin, arms open, grabbing her sister and hugging her as hard as Chris could remember. Rin, who had refused such displays of affection in recent years, didn¡¯t offer any resistance, Rin¡¯s only reaction to the emotion-driven assault was to lift her skinny arms and clutch at sides of Chris¡¯ shirt. The childish movement only made Chris cry harder as she considered the events it would take her sultry teenage sister from displaying this kind of vulnerability. Chris hugged Rin as hard as she could, willing the world to leave her sister in peace. ¡°I¡¯m s-s-sorry¡­¡± Rin sobbed. Chris was so caught up with the fact that she was reunited with her sister that she didn¡¯t notice the door close or the fact that her sister had started shaking. When she realized, Rin was sobbing and begging for forgiveness, over and over and over again. Caught off guard for the hundredth time in the last three days, Chris pushed Rin away, holding her at arm¡¯s length to get a better look at her face. The usual dark make-up Rin chose to wear was completely absent with the exception of some smudged left-over edges and streaks running down her cheeks. Rin¡¯s eyes were swollen and red, the usual beautiful dark brown of her irises was tinged with a suffering that Chris didn¡¯t understand. There was something really wrong going on, and Chris didn¡¯t know what it was. ¡°I¡¯m s-sorry Chris,¡± Rin sobbed again. ¡°I¡¯m s-so sorry, I never m-meant¡ª¡± Rin choked on her sob, unable to finish her words. The harder she tried to speak, the more tears flowed down her face. Chris frowned at her sister¡¯s reaction. The slight feeling of uncertainty crawling around Chris¡¯ stomach turned into full-blown dread. There was something very wrong going on for her sister to be behaving the way she was. Although some measure of sadness was to be expected, seeing as Chris was in jail, this amount of guilt that Rin was expressing obviously wasn¡¯t. ¡°S-sorry-y¡ª¡± Rin continued as Chris dragged her to one of the chairs. Chris dumped Rin into the one Suerte had vacated and took the one next to it on the same side of the table. Chris tried waiting to see if Rin would settle down, but after a couple minutes of more failed apologies, Chris decided it wasn¡¯t going to happen. ¡°Rin,¡± Chris said simply, taking Rin¡¯s face in her hands so that the girl would look at her in the eyes, something she hadn¡¯t done since she¡¯d walked through the door. ¡°I¡ª I¡¯m sorry, I¡ª¡± ¡°Shhhh¡­¡± Chris comforted her, ¡°It¡¯s okay. Tell me what¡¯s going on.¡± ¡°I¡ª I¡ª I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to¡ª¡± ¡°Rin,¡± Chris said when Rin looked away, not able to maintain eye-contact, ¡°Rin, it¡¯s okay. It¡¯s not your fault.¡± Those words incited another bout of choked sobbing. Helpless, all Chris could do was lean forwards on her bolted chair, trying to offer her sister as much bodily comfort as she could. Chris stroked Rin¡¯s hair and smelled the unfamiliar shampoo in it. She felt responsible for dumping her sister into some unfamiliar home, unable to care for Rin herself. Tears streaked down Chris¡¯ cheeks as well. Seeing her sister suffer the way she was tore at her heart more than anything else ever could. ¡°Rin, please, please tell me. I need to know so I can help¡­¡± ¡°I¡ª I can¡¯t,¡± Rin sobbed. ¡°I¡ªI¡ª wasn¡¯t¡­ You weren¡¯t¡­ And then he¡­¡± Chris¡¯ spine jerked straight. ¡°He?¡± Chris tried to probe gently, not sure she wanted the answer to her own question. ¡°Who is he?¡± ¡°Ed-Eddie,¡± Rin said, finally looking up to look Chris straight in the eye, ¡°he-he was at the party¡ª¡± Chris continued to stroke her sister¡¯s hair as she spoke, trying to keep Rin talking. The sobs had just barely subsided enough for Rin to get some cohesive words out and Chris didn¡¯t want to interrupt that, even if it meant keeping her silence when all she wanted to do was jump up, scream, shout and ask what the hell was going on. Rin didn¡¯t even know Eddie! And what party! She was supposed to be at a friend¡¯s house studying on Saturday. ¡°Mmmm¡­¡± Chris comforted Rin, keeping her inner turmoil to herself. She was trying to keep her sister calm, when she herself was anything but. ¡°H-He came h-home¡ª¡± Another sob interrupted the story. Chris continued her rhythmic strokes, trying to calm her sister as best she could. Her own heart was beating so hard out of her chest that she was surprised it hadn¡¯t already broken through her ribcage. The sound of its thumping beat was reverberating through Chris¡¯ head, creating a fog of noise that Rin¡¯s words had to travel through, as if trying to protect her from the truth that was about to come. ¡°I¡¯m so, so sorry Chris, I didn¡¯t mean to¡ª¡± ¡°Shhhh¡ª¡± Chris cooed, ¡°It¡¯s oka¡ª¡± ¡°I-I killed him!¡± she gasped. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to kill him!¡± ¡°Sh¡ª¡± Chris¡¯ voice fell away along with everything else. Suddenly, she was experiencing her life as if from the outside. Chris¡¯ eyes were dry and she knew she should probably blink soon, but her body was completely frozen, unwilling to respond to any commands. Chris was still breathing, she could feel her chest move up and down, but she didn¡¯t know how. Meanwhile, Rin had pulled away from Chris and bundled herself up in a little protective shell. Chris tried to open her mouth to say something, but she didn¡¯t know what. She tried to lift her arms to pull Rin towards her, but they wouldn¡¯t respond. Her mind was incapable of processing her sister¡¯s words, as if unwilling to deal with the consequences they would bring. She was in a state of shock and her rational side told her to get a grip and figure out what she was going to do about it, while the rest of her just wanted to crawl into a hole in succumb to the shock. A single tear rolled down Chris¡¯ cheek, and it was all she needed to knock her back into reality. Chris wasn¡¯t a crier. The milk was spilled and it was time to deal with it, the longer she waited, the longer it would have to sour. It was going to stink regardless, but she might as well mitigate the stench as much as she could. Shaking herself back into reality, Chris wiped at the tear, destroying all evidence it had existed in the first place, then she took Rin in her arms and said, ¡°Shhhh¡ª It¡¯s okay Rin, everything is going to be okay.¡± The only question now was how she was going to achieve that. Chapter 5: EDITED VERSION Metropolis - Lower 56th Prison Conference Room Tuesday, May 5th, 2089 | 3:37pm ¡°H-How!?¡± was Rin¡¯s muffled response. ¡°I¡¯ll figure it out,¡± Chris said with more strength in her voice than she had in the rest of her body. ¡°All you have to do is wait and¡­ don¡¯t tell anyone what happened,¡± she said, holding Rin close and stroking her hair. ¡°Don¡¯t talk about it with anyone, ever. Just say you were in the park for a walk when it happened, or studying, or at a friend¡¯s¡­ no. Not a friend¡¯s, don¡¯t tell anyone, not even your friends.¡± Rin nodded mutely with tears still streaming down her face. ¡°I¡¯m so s-sorry Chris¡­¡± ¡°It¡¯s okay. Shhh, breathe. Everything is going to be okay.¡± Rin curled up into a shivering, sniveling ball. Chris comforted her, running her fingers through her sister¡¯s hair trying to dismiss the fact that her own hands were trembling and she had no one to lean on herself. Shaking her head, Chris comforted and then tried to distract her sister until Suerte came for Rin again. By the time he showed up, Chris had managed to get Rin coherent again. She¡¯d even managed to get a smile from her after recounting her last three days in prison. When it was time for her sister to leave, Chris didn¡¯t want to let go. If everything went according to plan, Chris wouldn¡¯t be seeing her sister for a very long time. After Rin left, Chris walked back to her side of the table in a daze. The pieces of her new reality were falling to the ground, piece by piece, revealing what her new reality was going to look like. It wasn¡¯t pretty. Slumping down into her metal chair, Chris looked at her trembling hands before looking up at Suerte. He saw them too. Straightening her back, Chris tightened her hands together to keep them from shaking. Knowing that Rin was responsible had changed everything. Chris saw thousands of possibilities disperse into nothing. Her life had just been determined for her and the future tunneled down to one possibility, she was going to plead guilty. In order to keep her sister out of jail, in order to guarantee Rin got the future Chris had taken from her six years ago, in order to let her baby-sister have a better life, she would sacrifice ten years of her life. Chris lifted her chin and stared Suerte straight in the eyes, now the only question remaining was how to go about. She couldn¡¯t give Rin¡¯s secret away, she needed to find a way to keep it from him. If he found out, she¡¯d be handing over the whole deck, jokers included. Chris let out a slow measured breath trying to keep her emotions from showing on her face. She had no way of knowing it was all for nothing, not until Suerte spoke his next words. ¡°Well, that was a most interesting conversation,¡± he said, watching the blood drain from Chris¡¯ face. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you agree?¡± ¡°I th-thought that was a private conversation,¡± Chris said, chin still up. ¡°Now,¡± he said, ¡°what would make you think that?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll try to give you as much privacy as possible¡­¡± she said, mocking the tone he¡¯d used when he¡¯d said it. It was false bravado and they both knew it, but right then and there she had nothing left. ¡°I said I¡¯d try, and well¡­. It simply wasn¡¯t possible,¡± he said, giving her one of his trademark smiles. Chris cringed. ¡°So,¡± he said, pretending he hadn¡¯t noticed her reaction to his smile. ¡°You ready to take on the job now?¡± ¡°Do I have a choice?¡± she asked, her tone dry. ¡°No,¡± he said simply. ¡°But we can talk adequate compensation after you sign this document¡­¡± ¡°Another?¡± Chris asked. ¡°Bureaucracy,¡± he said with a shrug, ¡°never can be too safe.¡± Chris read it over twice. It was the most binding piece of literature she had ever read without going into any details about the work whatsoever. Chris signed it and handed it back to him. Suerte took the document and looked her signature over before depositing the file into the neat pile. ¡°So¡­ Are you going to tell me who your¡­ Our real employer is now?¡± Chris asked before Suerte could start going into the page he pulled out of the next folder. ¡°FieldGreen In¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t give me that.¡± Chris cut him off. ¡°That might be what you¡¯re selling with the letterheads and business cards, but there is no way a company I have never heard of before has so much pull.¡± Suerte looked at her in assessment, she could swear that he smiled but his mouth didn¡¯t show any evidence thereof. ¡°You are right. FieldGreen is a front. My employer wishes to remain anonymous, both for his own protection as well as your own.¡± Chris wasn¡¯t satisfied with the answer, but decided to move on to the next point in the conversation. Something about his demeanor made her certain that this man wouldn¡¯t reveal anything he didn¡¯t want to. ¡°What do you mean ¡®adequately compensated¡¯ And why do I have to plead guilty?¡± ¡°We know that asking you to go to prison is a high order, but we are willing to more than make it worth your while.¡± ¡°Worth ten years of while?!¡± ¡°Your sister.¡± Suerte said, immediately cutting off any rising frustration she was feeling, leaving Chris chilled to the bone. ¡°Wh-What about her?¡± Chris asked, her voice breaking. Suerte and Chris both knew how important Rin was to her, there was very little Chris wouldn¡¯t do to keep her save. If Suerte wanted to he could make Chris do whatever he pleased and they both knew it. Chris¡¯ face was ashen as she waited to hear what Suerte had to say. ¡°Will need to be taken care of,¡± he finished. His words were ambiguously discomforting. Chris didn¡¯t know who Suerte meant by ¡°taken care of¡±, but if his mysterious backer was somehow involved, she wanted Rin to have no part in it. Chris knew how blackmailing worked and if she fell into the trap now, she¡¯d be their slave for the rest of her life and that¡¯s if they didn¡¯t decide to use Rin as well. ¡°Not by us,¡± Suerte said as if sensing her thoughts. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. We will merely provide the funds to place her in a nice home with caring people. Her school, as well as any other necessities she might have, will be taken care of. She will be graduating in two years won¡¯t she? College will also be taken care of.¡± This caught Chris off guard. He had poked at the thing which she had secretly worried about for years. College. Chris knew that Rin was incredibly smart. She never saw the girl study, but she still managed to somehow ace all of her classes, even after spending so much time with the wrong crowd of people. It was one way in which Rin¡¯s teenage rebellion manifested itself completely differently than her own had. She had rebelled in all ways possible, including grades. Chris had been an idiot, but Rin wasn¡¯t. Chris knew that Rin wanted, beyond all things, to go to college, a good college. Chris also knew she would have no way of paying for one, she had barely been able to afford a loan for her own below average one. Chris could only nod mutely in response. ¡°Now, let¡¯s talk about the job,¡± Suerte said. ¡°The job?¡± Chris asked, wondering in what kind of world she was stepping into that referred to going to prison as a ¡®job¡¯. ¡°We need you to infiltrate Goldilocks Maximum Security Penitentiary.¡± Suerte said, breaking into her thoughts. ¡°... Infiltrate?! A max-sec!? Have you seen me!? How would I even¡­ you¡¯re asking the wrong person.¡± ¡°No, I am not. I don¡¯t mean for you to dig an escape tunnel with a spoon,¡± he quirked an amused eyebrow. ¡°My employer has two simple requirements.¡± He gave her a moment to calm down, and absorb this information before continuing. ¡°Do you know Nova Era?¡± ¡°... What?¡± Chris asked, caught completely off-guard with the sudden topic change. ¡°The virtual reality game released five years ago,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s realism is at the maximum allowed government-dictated setting of 99%. Most people have at least¡ª¡± ¡°Yes, I¡¯ve heard of it.¡± Chris said, finally having caught up with the conversation. ¡°But what does that have to do with anything?¡± ¡°Two years ago Nova Industries received a multi-billion government contract to integrate Nova Era into the penitentiary system.¡± Chris was completely confused by the history lesson, but kept silent while he explained.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. ¡°The number of convicts has been steadily rising over the last fifty years. It has become an epidemic, with almost 5% of the population behind bars for one reason or another.¡± Chris knew about this, everyone did. ¡®One reason or another¡¯ was code for company-policy infringements or inability to pay for their contracts. As a result there were countless people in prison paying off their debt by working gruesome 12-hour work days, unheard of in modern times. ¡°So even the penitentiary system is now privatized?¡± Chris murmured to herself, wondering when the ongoing charade where everyone pretended the government was still in charge was finally going to be over. ¡°So what does Nova Era have to do with¡­ this?¡± she asked, gesturing between them. ¡°Our first requirement is that you play it, Nova Era that is.¡± ¡°You want to hire me to¡­ play a game!? In prison?!¡± Chris asked, astonished. Chris remembered Rin begging and begging to be allowed to play the same game, but after looking into Nova Era, Chris was forced to say no. Even if Chris wanted to let her sister play it, they didn¡¯t have the funds to allow it. It was ridiculously expensive. Access to the game was already really expensive, but the capsule needed to log in was even more overpriced. Even second hand, it was thousands of credits beyond anything she would have been able to remotely afford. ¡°Yes.¡± Suerte said in his usual matter of fact tone, as if he was agreeing on the state of the weather. ¡°But we expect more than just participation.¡± Chris tensed. ¡°We want you to be good at it,¡± he said slowly, letting the importance of his words sink in. ¡°My employer desires access to the best Era players available. We plan to recruit you to be one of them.¡± ¡°But¡­ I know nothing about games. I haven¡¯t even played anything other than¡­ maybe solitaire on my cell-link.¡± ¡°We know.¡± Chris didn¡¯t like that. ¡°Is there something you don¡¯t?¡± Chris asked. Suerte answered her with one of his grins before he completely ignored her question and continued with the last part of the conversation. ¡°You might not be good now, but we believe that, with the right resources, you have the potential to become an incredible player.¡± ¡°... right.¡± Chris said, not believing it for a second. ¡°Most of the players in Goldilocks are above average. After all, they are linked in most of the day.¡± ¡°Most of the¡­ day?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Suerte said. ¡°Although the government only dictates a minimum of two hours of virtual rehabilitation a day, Goldilocks plays most of its convicts all day.¡± ¡°Wait, wait a second,¡± Chris said, feeling an oncoming headache. ¡°Virtual rehabilitation? I thought the main reason of supplying the penitentiary system with virtual capability was because of the aspect of time dilation.¡± ¡°Yes and it depends on who you ask,¡± he answered. ¡°Nova Industries¡¯ ¡®proposed¡¯ reason is to help convicts re-integrate into society. Their argument is based on the fact that 80% of the current convicts are repeat-offenders. They hope that by exposing them to ¡®real¡¯ human contact through the course of their time they will be able to adapt to society more easily when they are out and thus¡­ not go back.¡± ¡°¡­ I¡¯m guessing Nova Industries isn¡¯t our employer then.¡± Suerte grinned but didn¡¯t offer an answer one way or the other. ¡°But¡­ That doesn¡¯t really make sense¡­¡± Chris added after thinking about it some more. ¡°I mean wouldn¡¯t people want to get incarcerated¡­ just to play?¡± He raised a speculative eyebrow. ¡°You would sacrifice freedom in order to play two hours a day? And then have to work twelve hours at five times dilation¡­ sixty hours a day doing all the work the rest of society has given up on? If the game was the only driving factor, you¡¯d be better off working. After clocking in your twenty-hours you could play as long as you like¡­¡± Chris nodded lamely. ¡°Alright,¡± she said, getting back on topic. ¡°Why do you need me to be such a great player then? Can¡¯t you just hire players you already know are good?¡± ¡°We have,¡± he stated simply. ¡°You are not the first, neither will you be the last.¡± His words were ominously threatening. When she thought she¡¯d determined Suerte¡¯s and his employer¡¯s reach he would do or say something that made her reconsider those margins. Every time she realized she was playing with bigger and bigger fish. Chris was nothing but a sardine, an amoeba to these people. Suerte seemed to be trying to help her out for some unknown reason, but she still had to watch out. Everyone had ulterior motives and who was their employer. The more she thought about it, the more certain she became of the depressing conclusion that she was working for one of Top Five Companies. The mere thought had every instinct in her body telling her to run for the hills. The Top Five were Nova Industries, Oolgeg, IcroMoft, Craig Consolidated and JasperSync. Chris doubted Nova Industries would need to spy on its own enterprise and she had no idea how any of the others could have a vested interest in the prison facilities. Then again, she really didn¡¯t know if it was Nova Industries after all. Instead of worrying about something she wasn¡¯t informed enough to work out, she should probably pay attention to the life-changing events taking place right before her. ¡°As for why, you do not need to know yet. All you need to know is, play. Become a good player, and form a guild. It would be great if you could get some other convicts involved. People who have more time to play tend to become better players. However, that is not a strict requirement. As long as all the other players in your guild are also strong, and they follow your orders, and you follow ours, it does not matter who they are.¡± Chris was silent as she took it all in. Although she had never played before, she knew that a guild was a group of players who tended to play together to create advantageous situations for each other. She understood what was required from her, but she didn¡¯t know why. Suerte was obviously not going to tell her, so she switched gears. ¡°Alright, so what is the second requirement?¡± ¡°You will be going into Goldilocks, their system is both more and less conducive to our task. Their warden has instituted a policy that is slightly different¡­¡± Chris furrowed her brows in confusion. ¡°He lets good players play full-time. The ones he deems unfit, he uses for the upkeep of the prison. Out of the 5000 or so convicts, only about five hundred are needed for the maintenance and upkeep of Goldilocks.¡± ¡°Maintenance?¡± ¡°Laundry, meals, cleanliness¡­ the tasks usually assigned to convicts. It would be very expensive, not to say dangerous, to have outside contract labor.¡± ¡°... Alright,¡± she said, realizing how little she knew about prisons. ¡°But how is any of this different from other prisons? From what you have said, I am assuming you have convicts from other prisons in your payroll¡­¡± Suerte smirked at her words, seeing her fishing expedition for what it was. ¡°Yes,¡± he said, apparently indifferent of her knowledge of the situation. ¡°The government regulations call for each prisoner to play the game for at least two hours every day. It does not however, state a maximum of hours. Most prisons have the convicts rotate out at regular intervals. The warden at Goldilocks though¡­ seems to be using players towards his own gain.¡± ¡°His own¡ª¡± ¡°Profit gaming. Gold Farming,¡± he said. ¡°Nova Era is played so much that the currency therein is almost interchangeable with the credits in the real world. The warden uses the best gamers to guarantee a profit. He sells items and money acquired in the game. However¡­ this doesn¡¯t interest us, so far it has not interfered with our goals. We just want to guarantee that it stays like that.¡± ¡°Alright,¡± she said slowly, taking in the situation as best she could. ¡°So you want me to play the game. And¡­ what else? What do I have to do with the warden?¡± ¡°We don¡¯t want you to just play the game,¡± he said, his voice sounding tired, as if tired of repeating himself. ¡°We need you to be the best.¡± He closed the open folder on the desk and looked straight at her while speaking. ¡°We have tried to figure out what the Warden is doing and what his endgame is, but have so far been unable to. Unless you play better than the bottom five hundred, he will sit you out. And unless you are among the best, he will never come into contact with you. We need you to be in contact with him, we need to know if he¡¯s a threat, a possible partner or a simple nuisance¡­so figure out what he is up to¡­.¡± He said, ¡°by any means possible.¡± Chris gaped. ¡°D-did you just ask me¡­ to seduce the warden?!¡± Suerte raised an amused eyebrow and smiled somewhat mockingly. ¡°Not at all¡± he said. ¡°I just asked you to use all of the means available to you¡­¡± He steepled his long, yet very masculine, fingers in front of him. ¡°Are those the only means you possess?¡± he asked. Chris just sat there with her mouth agape as Suerte calmly unsteepled his fingers and re-stacked all of his folders. ¡°Alright, that should be it.¡± He concluded. ¡°Any questions?¡± She just sat there in utter amazement until she found her tongue again. ¡°Do I have a choice?¡± Chris asked rhetorically. He didn¡¯t comment. Chris sighed and regretted ever having taken the double shift on Saturday night. If she hadn¡¯t, none of this would have happened. She would be coming back from her last final right about now. Chris had been ready for that test, she would have aced it and she would have graduated with honors, but now¡­ now it would never happen. As of tomorrow she will be a convicted criminal for life. She could never go back to what could have been. ¡°Listen.¡± She heard her lawyer say in his honeyed baritone. Apparently he had been trying to get her attention, so she looked up at him. Chris saw compassion in his face, real compassion. ¡°I know you don¡¯t deserve this, and I can¡¯t make any guarantees, but if you want to get out, there is a way.¡± He paused to ensure he had her attention before he continued. ¡°Become the best player there is.¡± ¡°The best¡­¡± ¡°If you become the best player in Goldilocks and maintain that rank, showing my employer that you¡¯re a valuable asset, I might be able to get you out.¡± Chris could feel a crack in her shell of numbness, as hope for freedom was about to seep through. She had already resigned herself to her fate though, it was hard to trust in an escape from it. ¡°... Might.¡± ¡°It¡¯s the best I can do. You can take it or leave it. You don¡¯t have to decide right now. I¡¯m just letting you know. I want you to win. You don¡¯t deserve this¡­ It was just the bad luck of the draw.¡± Chris didn¡¯t respond. What could she say? ¡°Familiarize yourself with this as much as you can.¡± He said, handing her a transparent hand-sized tablet. It was the newest technology on the market, just as powerful as any computer. ¡°I might be poor, but I know what a tabl¡ª¡± ¡°Not the tablet. The information in it.¡± He said as if he were talking to a child. ¡°Your job for the foreseeable future will be to play Nova Era, don¡¯t you think it is high time you familiarize yourself with it?¡± He then succinctly got up, and winked as he closed the door behind him. Chris looked up to see the camera was shut off, but then it turned on again. Sitting there in silence for a couple of minutes, she waited for a guard to come and take her back to her cell. She doubted they would let her keep the damn thing and wondered if she should hide it, but decided not to since any of the other prisoners in her cell would be able to give her away at any time. In the end though, she shouldn¡¯t have worried. They took her to a bathroom with a shower and gave her fifteen minutes, more than enough time to make herself feel human again. She wondered if her new benefactors had set it up and her suspicions were later confirmed when they not only gave her clean new prison slacks, but also a ¡®private¡¯ cell. The best surprise came when the mattress on her bed seemed to be brand new, and Chris wondered how powerful her unnamed masters really were. She was quite certain that the many ¡®privileges¡¯ granted to her that night were a direct powerplay, to show Chris just how far their influence reached. In the end, it was a not so subtly conveyed threat for her to follow their agreement¡­ or else. Before they closed her up for the night, they took her outside for the first fresh air she had breathed in days. She almost felt human again. It wasn¡¯t a feeling that lasted long though and they soon locked her in her cell once more. The bars closed and she was behind them. She had signed a document that would keep her there for quite some time. But not for ten years. Determination flashed in her eyes. If it¡¯s a game that would get her out of there, it was a game she would play. Chapter 6: Martyred Skip this chapter. This is just fixing the numbers. Got them wrong in the edited versions. Hope the rest of the story doesn''t have too many inconsistencies with the changes made in the first five chapters. Hope those of you who read the changes like them. Thanks.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. This has to be at least 500 characters long. Still not 500 apparently... lol. Well, in this case I guess I''ll tell you First Academy (my other story) will only be updating once a week from now on as I try to get BD out of the way and into kindle. It''s been sitting unedited for way too long. Chapter 7: Incarcerated After that, Chris pretty much became a spectator of her own life for a few days. Suerte promised her sister would be placed in an excellent school, far away from any city influences. Chris signed additional papers tying her to Suerte and his mysterious employer for the next ten years. Her trial never took place, Suerte merely showed up telling her everything had been taken care of. Initially she was supposed to be transported to Goldilocks max-sec penitentiary that same day, but she had insisted on the clause that only took her there when she had proof that her sister had been well placed. On the morning of the second day she got her proof, as well as a phone call from Rin. They had taken her to the other side of the continent, it was at least 4 hours by plane and over 7 by zip-trail. In her heart she knew she wouldn¡¯t be seeing her sister for a long time. Probably at least two years, after she finished high school. Chris knew it was for the best, but she still couldn¡¯t help feeling an immense sense of loss. Rin had been her duty for the last six years, she still was, but now there would be a continent between them and there was nothing she could do about it. After all, she was the one that had asked for it. Chris could hear the girl¡¯s false bravado through the phone. Apparently she already really liked the mother, even if she wouldn¡¯t shut up, Rin attributed it to their isolated country house. The father she hadn¡¯t had much time to get to know since he spent most of his time working outside. They were real farmers and Rin told her she almost couldn¡¯t believe it, she never thought she would ever get to meet one. She also said the air was much cleaner in the countryside, and blabbed for a good quarter hour about all the positive aspects of living in Jemyo. Chris knew most of it was pretense and said only to appease Chris, she knew her sister still felt like the circumstance was all her fault, no matter how often Chris told her it wasn¡¯t. Rin was telling her all about how school had already ended for the summer, but how she would be needing some remedial lessons. She had always been a very good student in the city, but she had also gone to a very underfunded public school. Rin was a little worried about how behind in all of the subjects she was, but she promised she would do her best so that Chris didn¡¯t have to worry. Chris had smiled at that, she knew she didn¡¯t have to worry. For all the pretense, Rin was one of the most responsible girls she knew. It had been almost time to hang up when Rin had joyfully announced that she would be seeing her soon. She had been about to ask how, when Rin broke the suspense and told her that Suerte had promised her an access-port and subscription fee to Nova Era. She told her to send her the name of her starting location as soon as she found out so that they could meet up in game. Chris was speechless, she had resigned herself to not seeing her sister for a long time. She was unsure of whether she should feel happy or worried about something. Before she could decide, her time was cut short and the connection was terminated. The same indecisive feeling persisted as they transported her to the Goldilocks facility. She had expected it to be a long transfer, instead it only took about half an hour. It wasn¡¯t precisely in the middle of Metropolis, but it was closer to the center than the outskirts. She had expected a heavily guarded place surrounded by tall walls, instead she was led into a normal looking building of three stories. They took her prints, picture and measurements. She was inspected from every which corner and even X-rayed to guarantee she wasn¡¯t bringing in anything from the outside. They took her tablet away and Chris was glad she had been able to get through most of the information on it over the last couple of days. They continued to search her and Chris was almost afraid they would shave her hair off when they finally gave her a dark blue uniform. It was too big for her, but she suspected it was the smallest size available and remained thankful for the elastic waistband she could pull tight. The last things that were handed to her were a pair of squeaky plastic shoes, a tag that read 5826 and a metallic bracelet that was clamped around her left wrist. Unlike the rest of the uniform that had been handed to her, they looked brand new. They told her to take care of them since they were the only ones that would be given to her. She wasn¡¯t sure what to make of the ominous tone they told it to her in, but followed the next guard to an elevator. She watched as the guard pressed one of the only two buttons available to her, Goldilocks. For a second she remained confused when the elevator started its rapid descent, then it dawned on her that it was a subterranean prison. Her heartbeat picked up and she almost broke out in cold sweat at the thought of not seeing the sun for ten years. ¡®This is inhumane! How can they keep us down here like caged animals!¡¯ She was about to burst, when about two minutes later the elevator finally stopped. Security checks were next on the list it seemed. After more than ten security gates, they finally came to another gate of sorts. Unlike all the previous ones though, it was just an arch with a barrier of blue translucent light. The guard passed through it without any qualms, so she proceeded to do the same when she suddenly felt a painfully high electric current passing through her. She immediately pulled back, causing the guard to look at her in annoyance. Chris was rubbing at her arm, where most of the voltage had gone through. It was the part of her body that had gone through the barrier. The guard was about to reprimand her but caught sight of her arm and said instead, ¡°Didn¡¯t you turn it on already? Gosh, do we have to do everything for you lot?¡± The woman reached for her arm and pressed a button she hadn¡¯t even noticed on her new silver band. It chirped to life and tightened around her wrist to an almost painful degree. A faint blue glow emanated from it, she had no idea what it was for. ¡°Alright, you¡¯re good now.¡± The guard said and once again tried guiding her through the arch. Chris followed a lot more hesitantly but this time she went through without a glitch. A fact she almost didn¡¯t register as she took note of her surroundings. The gray cement walls suddenly gave way to walls covered in pastel wallpaper with massive windows spanning the length on both sides. Chris froze in amazement, she had been so sure she was underground, but she could now see fields and fields of scenery beyond her. ¡®This can¡¯t be right.¡¯ She looked at the guard in confusion. The woman looked back at her and rolled her eyes before saying, ¡°They really didn¡¯t tell you anything did they?¡± ¡°... I guess not.¡± Chris said in what she thought was an appeasing tone, all she wanted was a simple answer. ¡°That bracelet there¡­¡± She motioned to Chris¡¯s arm. ¡°Lets you control what you see down here. Don¡¯t delude yourself, you are almost a kilometer underground, but this lets you see what you choose to.¡± She continued walking her down the hallway as she spoke. ¡°You can mess with the settings later, that¡¯s not for me to explain to you, they¡¯re pretty fool-proof. All you need to know is, there are ¡®windows¡¯...¡± She motioned to the windows she could see down the hallway. ¡°You chose your scenery. Other than that you also have the choice of your wall color¡­ why they bother I don¡¯t know. As for lighting, all lamps are synthetic solar light. So all you inmates won¡¯t suffer vitamin-D withdrawal and go crazy and all that. If you ask me.... Nova Industries went too far¡­ But this is their project and I¡¯m getting paid so I¡¯m not gonna complain.¡± As they were walking, Chris noticed that the sun was setting through the windows and she asked the guard if the time of the sunset was real. She rolled her eyes before saying, ¡°Of course. Isn¡¯t that the point of all this? To keep you guys sane and pretend you¡¯re still living in the real world? Most of you are linked most of the time anyway. Just like a bunch of lined up vegetables¡­¡± The woman continued to mutter to herself as she led Chris through a couple of more corridors, finally bringing her to a door that was labeled WING- E / Block 5. ¡°Remember that, you¡¯re part of E-5.¡± Chris was unceremoniously handed off to a new guard that took her down a corridor filled with doors. Each door had two numbers on them 4523/3211 or 3322/1892 and so forth. Finally, the new guard stoically brought her to a door that read 0812 / 5825. Chris quickly looked down at the velcro tag they had instructed she attach to her left chest and realized that the second number was hers. Apparently this was her room. The guard let her into the room and said, ¡°Count is at 20¡¯00. Lights out at 22¡¯00. Morning call is at 06¡¯00 and breakfast is at 07¡¯00.¡± Then she looked at the double bunk and nodded to a woman Chris hadn¡¯t even noticed, ¡°Tiny. Be nice.¡± She said with finality before closing the door in her face. It was weird to see a window showing the outside world on the door when she knew the guard was standing on the other side locking it as she thought about it. She quickly dismissed the thought and brought her focus to the woman who was rearranging herself on the bunk. ¡°So you¡¯re the fresh meat huh?¡± The woman said in a deep gravely voice. It was sort of incredible that Chris hadn¡¯t immediately noticed her. Even sitting down, Chris could tell she was massive. Not fat, just tall, well built and very toned. ¡°Yea, I guess I am.¡± Chris said in what she hoped was a neutral tone. She still hadn¡¯t taken the woman¡¯s measure and if there was one thing she was certain of it was that she didn¡¯t want to upset the woman she was locked in with. Especially not considering the woman was almost twice her size. Maybe not just almost. There was nothing ¡®tiny¡¯ about her, if all nicknames were decided like this then Chris was about to be called Giant or Titan. The woman had the same exact coloring as Chris, with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes, but that was where all the similarities ended. Her hair was cropped incredibly short and her face was all angles and edges. If Chris had seen her on the streets she would have thought her to be a bodybuilder of some sort, and the laugh lines on her face made her look like someone who liked to enjoy life to the fullest. Chris couldn¡¯t help wondering what she was in for. To get into a max-sec like Goldilocks you had to have done something pretty serious. ¡°Alright. Well, I¡¯m Arizona Wells but you can call me Tiny.¡± She smiled self-deprecatingly. ¡°I¡¯m pretty easy going and if you just follow a couple of¡­ agreements we will get along just fine.¡± ¡°... Okay.¡± Chris said when Tiny waited for some sort of acknowledgement. ¡°One. Don¡¯t mess with my stuff and I won¡¯t mess with yours. Two. Don¡¯t mess with my sleep in any way, shape or manner and I won¡¯t mess with yours. And finally, three. Don¡¯t even try to get all handsy, you¡¯re not my type.¡± Chris could tell that the last one was added for her benefit when the large woman winked. The thought had indeed crossed her mind, they were after all in female prison, and she did look like the stereotypical lesbian type. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. ¡®Not that I am an expert on lesbians¡­ Or am homophobic¡­ well. In this case I might be a little homophobic¡­ but I have reason to be! This isn¡¯t about political correctness! It¡¯s about safety! It¡¯s just she could overpower me without even trying to. If she¡¯s for real I at least don¡¯t have to worry about that in my room.¡¯ ¡°Sounds good to me.¡± Chris said. For a moment she stood there, not knowing what to do next. She didn¡¯t have any possessions, they had told her all of things would be placed on her bed. Looking at it now, she walked over and examined them. A towel, a hand towel, a plastic toothbrush, toothpaste, a pillow, a blanket, a pair of sheets, a bar of soap and a roll of toilet paper. She took a moment to look at her room. It¡¯s walls were decorated in the same pastel color as the hallway and the staggering total of eight windows all showed the same scenery of a nearly dark landscape. In that moment Chris realized that even the synthetic sunlight was feeling cooler on her skin. It no longer felt like she was outside in the sun. She continued to look at the room until her eyes came across a little toilet stall in one of the corners. The room wasn¡¯t very big, no more than three meters by three meters, so the toilet took up a considerable chunk of that space. Her eyebrows wrinkled in dissatisfaction. Suddenly Tiny spoke up from the upper bunk.¡°You haven¡¯t messed with your settings yet have you?¡± She asked as she casually rested her hand on one of her hands. . ¡°You should get on that, it makes this place more¡­ bearable.¡± Chris merely nodded wordlessly and spent the next hour before the count, messing with the settings. It allowed her to make the toilet partition look like a large trunk in the corner of the room. She set the walls to a moss green and skipped through a couple of sceneries before finally deciding on the rotating option. Looking at the changing window views every five minutes was too much and she changed her interval of rotation to an hour. She figured she could decide later if she wanted to keep a permanent one, and then she would know which one she liked best. It probably took her longer than it ever took people to go through settings, but Chris hadn¡¯t ever encountered any technology like it before. She had been too poor to have it herself and too busy to visit friends who did have it, not that she had many of those in the first place. Chris wasn¡¯t at all caught up on the latest technologies, so for her, it was a little learning curve. So, unlike other people who just spent seconds looking at the settings, Chris ended up customizing her bracelet to an extent no one else had. In fact, very few ever even tried the rotating option to begin with, and those who did never realized that the scenery itself could be messed with. Mountains added, rivers shifted and houses removed. When going through the weather and wind options she also came across the sound and scent options. She didn¡¯t believe it at first, didn¡¯t see how a mere bracelet could influence what she could hear, smell or feel but she entered the settings anyway. When less than ten seconds later she began smelling pine trees and feeling a cool mountain air that reflected the current scenery, she could only sit there in shock for a while. Chris was uncertain and maybe a little frightened, not sure how a bracelet could influence her brain, but before she could fret too much about it she pushed the thought aside. There wasn¡¯t anything she could do about it, all prisoners had the bracelets, she wouldn¡¯t get any special treatment, so instead she just laid back and tried to enjoy the sensory bliss for a while. She had always lived in Metropolis, even before her mother married Rin¡¯s father. It was the first time in her life she smelled air so fresh, even if it was fake air. If she thought about it she would have realized the air had been clearer since the second they stepped foot into Goldilocks. Nodding in satisfaction, she made her bed and laid down. It was weird to be finding things she liked about prison, and Chris wondered if this wasn¡¯t just an aftereffect of her relief concerning Rin. Even if she was convicted of manslaughter, and had to live underground for a good time, her future looked stable for the first time in six years. She wouldn¡¯t have to worry about food, shelter, clothing or anything really for the foreseeable future. All she had to make sure of, was keeping her end of the bargain and not getting on anyone¡¯s bad side in prison. Suerte had warned her about some of the women she was incarcerated with. Unfortunately her unencumbered thoughts were soon interrupted by her roommate¡¯s gravel like voice. ¡°Don¡¯t just sit there smiling, you have work to do.¡± Chris looked at Tiny, who had moved down from her bunk a while ago to do body strengthening exercises like sit ups and pushups. Currently she was in some sort of modified handstand that had her facing the ground at a weird angle. Chris knew she wouldn¡¯t even be able to attempt the posture seeing as she couldn¡¯t even work out how she had gotten there. A little part of her wished she had been paying more attention. ¡°... Work?¡± Chris asked, uncertain if the woman meant she should be doing exercises with her. She knew she wasn¡¯t the fittest person on earth but she wasn¡¯t really in the mood to bond with a possible murderer over exercises in a tight closed space. ¡°Lucky said you¡¯ve never played before.¡± ¡°Lucky?¡± Chris asked. ¡°Castiel Suerte¡­ Our guardian angel?¡± For a moment Chris was speechless, then she couldn¡¯t help but snort in amusement. She had never even thought to call her slick and serious lawyer Lucky, it seemed absurd. But when she thought about it, that was exactly what his name meant. ¡°So, you should be reading up on Era.¡± Tiny said, as if calling Suerte by Lucky was the most natural thing in the world. ¡°Era¡­ Nova Era? The game?¡± Chris asked, trying to follow the conversation as best she could while not laughing about Tiny¡¯s butchering of Suerte¡¯s name. Tiny lifted a mocking eyebrow. ¡°A game? It¡¯s not just a game¡­¡± She smiled. ¡°It¡¯s a whole new world.¡± Tiny paused a minute while she shifted into a new formation that had her legs open in a split. She made it seem simple, but her feet never touched the floor, Chris could only guess at the strength needed for such a transition. ¡°The you in this universe¡­¡± Tiny continued as if she hadn¡¯t just pulled off an olympics-or-at-least-very-talented athlete-worthy movement. ¡°Has nothing to do with the you in that universe. Just like that universe has nothing to do with ours. You have to start from scratch, so if you don¡¯t at least read up on the basics¡­ you¡¯ll be behind before you even begin.¡± ¡°What do yo¡ª¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what Lucky told you. But you have a week to impress the warden. With the in-game five times acceleration, that¡¯s a little over a month of in-game time. The warden doesn¡¯t like wasting game time on players that won¡¯t bring him a profit.¡± Tiny took another moment to shift to another form. ¡°He does realize though that new players have to be given a chance, it¡¯s just not much of a chance. So, in order to succeed, you have to hit the ground running. No training wheels.¡± Chris nodded, waiting for further instruction. She had gone through most of what Suerte had supplied her with, but it had mostly been basic introductory information on the game. Statistics about the world and the players in it. There had been a much bigger file concerning prison politics They had taken her tablet away though, so she didn¡¯t have the option of re-reading any of the information on it. Tiny was looking her straight in the face without any expression for a while and an awkward silence built up until she finally said, ¡°What you looking at me for? Start reading, didn¡¯t anyone show you how to access the library through your b-link?¡± Chris gave her a blank look. ¡°Band-link¡­ that thing on your arm.¡± ¡°Oh¡­ No, they just sort of clamped it around my wrist.¡± Tiny¡¯s lips tightened into a straight line of annoyance before she said, ¡°Go to where you fixed your settings, there should be an exit option there.¡± Chris followed her instructions hoping she wasn¡¯t the woman¡¯s source of annoyance. ¡°There should be an icon for the library there. The Warden uploads pretty much all books and guides even remotely applicable to Era.¡± She smiled grimly. ¡°He wants us to succeed.¡± ¡°R-right.¡± Chris immediately started browsing through the options, until she reached the library. For a moment she was astounded, even stupefied over the amount of data there was on the armband. She was unsure of what to read first, until she realized she could organize the books by topic and level. She set it to absolute beginner in Era. The first book in the list was a manual to the game and before she knew it she was reading up on settings, character creation, race selection, game history and the history of the actual Era Universe. It was incredibly complex and detailed, a lot more detailed than anything Suerte had provided her with. In comparison it looked like child¡¯s play. But Chris was glad he had given it to her nonetheless, feeling quite certain she would have been overwhelmed otherwise. Which was perhaps exactly why he gave it to her. After only a couple of pages Chris was already beginning to understand what Tiny meant by it not being just a game. When Tiny finally finished her work out some time later, Chris asked, ¡°So if the you here has nothing to do with the you in Era¡­ and I read somewhere that everyone starts out with zero-ed out stats with the same physical condition, no matter how bad or good their real one was in the real world¡­ why do you bother?¡± Chris gestured at the area she had worked out in. Tiny smiled brightly, the first real testament to where all those laugh lines on her face came from. ¡°Because, even if it is more than just a game¡­ In the end¡­ It is a game. This is my real body, I need to take care of it. If my mind, the only thing I do take with me to Era, forgets how to communicate with my body here¡­ who is to say it won¡¯t have an effect there?¡± She smiled again and jumped up onto her bunk in a fluid motion that seemed gravitationally impossible for a body her size. Chris decided then and there she was going to join in the woman¡¯s exercises beginning the next day. If not for an advantage in the game, then at least for an advantage in prison. She was still afraid of getting her ass handed to her. They read and researched in silence after that. Even after the lights had been turned off, both of their bunks were under the soft glow of the holoscreens produced by their bands. Chris was only beginning to understand what a full-time commitment she had signed up for. --- A/N: removed a scene from here. will insert later... way later. don''t worry about it if you came after. not important... yet. sorry. :S Chapter 8: Advised Chris could feel the stares on the back of her neck as she took her place at the front of the line. She inserted her b-link into one of the dispensing machines like she had seen countless others do. Part of her really wanted to look around and find out who was staring at her, but she knew that might invite a confrontation, which wasn¡¯t at all what she was looking for on her first day. She kept her eyes forward and a couple seconds later a meal tray came out from a lower slot, containing the same gruel she had seen on countless other trays. It looked about as appetizing as sand, but she wasn¡¯t about to comment on it to her new, possibly hostile, definitely criminal, housemates. Leaving the food dispensing area with her tray in hand, she walked toward the tables, making a mental seating chart of all the prisoners she recognized. Chris also tried to take note of which ones seemed to show a greater deal of interest in the ¡®fresh meat¡¯ but gave up when she realized it was basically every convict in the room. Until that very moment, she hadn¡¯t realized how well her Lucky man, had prepared her. He had told her that in a perfect world, she wouldn¡¯t have to interact with any of the prisoners. They lived in a very far from perfect world and he had warned her that if she wanted to survive in it, she better be ready for prison politics. Chris continued walking down the aisle with the whole cafeteria eyeing her back until she finally reached a table she thought didn¡¯t belonged to any of the three major groups the prisoners tended to divide themselves into. She did not recognize a single face at the table, which already endeared her to the idea of sitting at it. If she didn¡¯t know them, Lucky hadn¡¯t included their mugshot in his brief, meaning they weren¡¯t important in the prison¡¯s hierarchy, meaning she could have a last breakfast of peace before thinking about dealing with the whole problem. ¡®Complete breakfast peace so I can make sure I¡¯m not about to make any really stupid mistakes.¡¯ Two of the six inmates at the table seemed to be fully occupied by the task of shoving the gruel down their throats as fast as they could. At those speeds, it was quite surprising, and even more impressive, that all the food made it to their mouths. Further down, three distinctly different women whose only similarity was their elderliness, were eating as if the meal was taking place at the Buckingham Palace. She couldn¡¯t be sure from where she stood, but Chris could have sworn that she heard them exchange pleasantries like, ¡°I had quite a fitful sleep last night. What about you? Were you able to sleep past that headache you complained about last night?¡± Watching the very weird trio of ladies was one of the most surreal moments of Chris¡¯s life and she couldn¡¯t help smiling in part quizzical amusement and part total incomprehension. ¡®How is this happening in prison right now?! Well at least they seem more interested in their tea party than my presence.¡¯ It was a nice change compared to the rest of the room that while still going about their business, felt like they had a corner of one eye dedicated just to her. A couple of days ago, the mere thought of being watched by a room full of criminals would probably of scared her, but other than another mental note in her analysis of her situation, she didn¡¯t give the room at her back another thought. Chris had already moved to sit at the table when she took stock of the last woman seated. She was eating slowly, but it was clear that she didn¡¯t have any illusions about the food in front of her being anything but gruel. Taking a seat across from her, Chris took stock of the woman¡¯s appearance trying to judge what kind of person she was. She had long, straight graying black hair with a pronounced white streak at her temple that followed her hair in a white band to its ends. Her face was narrow and her lips thin, she had Asian features that made it impossible to gauge her age. Chris would have said mid-twenties but the hair obviously hinted towards something higher. She wasn¡¯t what you would call beautiful, but there was a certain elegance to her appearance that drew the eye. ¡°I¡¯m crazy.¡± The woman suddenly said, startling Chris who had just picked up her spork. ¡°I-I¡­ Ah¡­¡± Chris drew a blank. ¡°Trying to categorize me won¡¯t help. I am crazy, anyone here will tell you that.¡± She said before looking down the table and shouting, ¡°Isn¡¯t that right girls?¡± ¡°Yes. Of course.¡± ¡°Batshit crazy.¡± Multiple voices spoke at once, cutting off the longer reply from one of the tea-party ladies. ¡°... to an insane asylum. But I don¡¯t think they have the facilities to handle you there, do they, Doris?¡± Said the oldest looking one with shockingly white hair that contrasted with her dark skin. ¡°Yes, well¡­¡± Doris replied somewhat smugly. Chris would have labeled the woman as completely harmless in her mind had she not seen the right side of her face when she turned. It harboured a massive jagged scar that ran all the way from her temple to her jaw, stretching skin on her face like it was made from rubber. The right corner of her lip was pulled slightly toward her jaw, permanently placing a slight smirk on her face. She tried to calm her stomach as her mind processed the origins of the scar. It looked like someone had taken a blunt knife and hacked away at the flesh in attempts to peel it off from the bone, as if they were trying to pull the woman¡¯s face off. For some unexplainable reason though, Chris suspected that someone hadn¡¯t done that to her, but that she had done it to herself. She couldn¡¯t help but glance back at Doris who was calmly looking at her with impenetrable dark grey eyes. Thankfully Chris couldn¡¯t see much of the scar when she looked at the woman head on, but something about the woman¡¯s expression made her think that the woman had done it on purpose. ¡®Is she trying to gauge my reactions? As much as she claims she is crazy¡­ she doesn¡¯t seem crazy. She actually seems pretty intelligent¡­ Not that getting the better of me on my first day in prison is a hard thing to accomplish... Could she be the leader of the Anonymous group? The brief did say to be on the lookout since the leader of¡­¡¯ ¡°You should hurry up and eat Dearie.¡± Doris said breaking into Chris¡¯s thoughts, before going back to eating her own gruel. Chris looked down at her own and felt her stomach turn in revolt again. It looked like toothpaste mixed with oatmeal and had a grainy beige appearance that was only made more unappetizing by the part plastic and part seaweed smell it had. ¡°Didn¡¯t your mother ever tell you not to play with your food?¡± Doris asked before looking at her b-link. ¡°You have exactly twelve minutes to eat all of that¡­¡± She motioned to Chris¡¯s food with her spork. ¡°Otherwise they¡¯ll only log you in with the next batch.¡± ¡°The next batch?¡± Chris asked. The woman looked at her the way a mother looks at a child who repeats the same question it has already received an answer to. She ignored Chris until she ate the last couple of spoonfuls of her gruel. Then she set down her spork, laid her elbows on the table, linked her hands and said, ¡°How about you eat and I talk. I like talking. Not everyone does you know, as well they shouldn¡¯t. Some people just have nothing to contribute, all we can do is hope that they know that.¡± ¡°Wh¡ª¡± ¡°Typically eating does not involve the activation of vocal chords. And if you don¡¯t eat everything the dispenser gave you, they won¡¯t let you play. In fact, they won¡¯t let you leave this room.¡± ¡°B¡ª¡± ¡°Child. Shut up, would you? I will tell you everything you need to know. Well¡­ that is not entirely true. I will tell you everything I want you to know. And there is no point in asking questions because the scope of that everything would not change with your intervention.¡± Doris said and waited a second, as if baiting Chris to ask anything. When she didn¡¯t, but merely started shoveling the gruel like the two women from earlier, Doris continued. ¡°You learn more from listening than talking. Just think about it, when you¡¯re talking all you¡¯re doing is hearing things you already know. When I am talking you are hearing things I know which, we both know, you don¡¯t. Because let¡¯s face it, you¡¯re more green than grass.¡± The woman took a slight pause in her monologue to evaluate Chris, who had by this point found out that the gruel tasted just as bad, if not worse, as it looked and smelled. When Chris didn¡¯t say anything in response but kept shoveling the distasteful substance down her throat Doris continued talking. ¡°Yes, I know. Most displeasing that. But you get used to it, can¡¯t have prison be just a big game now can we?¡± Doris smiled widely at that before continuing. ¡°You have to eat that because your b-link won¡¯t let you leave the room until you have ingested all of it. It calculates exactly what your body needs for that day. The calories, the nutrients, the vitamins¡­ it¡¯s a little excessive if you ask me. But then again, you didn¡¯t. Just know that if you want to play Era, which I assume you do, you need to finish that or the guards won¡¯t take escort you out. And the next batch of players will only be in an hour and you really don¡¯t want to lose an hour. That¡¯s five hours in Era, you can do a lot in five hours of Era. And you my dear, need to do a lot in five hours of Era.¡± ¡°You see these vultures around this room?¡± Doris asked with a vague hand movement that gestured towards all of the convicts around them. Chris almost instinctively turned her head to look around, but fought it down and instead kept eating, thinking it was probably not a good idea to let people know what Doris was talking about. It was also probably not a good idea to look at people and display unnecessary interest either. When Chris didn¡¯t miss a beat, Doris smiled with a slight hint of a smirk which Chris translated to a small congratulatory verdict. ¡®She¡¯s¡­ testing me. But why? Who is she, and what does she want? I need to be careful with what I say. I can¡¯t tie myself down to anyone right now. It¡¯s not in the plans¡­¡¯ Chris looked up to see Doris smiling at her, her skin crinkling at the very edges of her slanted eyes. It was the first time she actually noticed an age related feature on the woman¡¯s face other than her graying hair. It was quite disconcerting, but the most disconcerting part was that she felt like Doris knew exactly what she was thinking. Like Doris had purposefully made her think those things. ¡°Well.¡± Doris continued as if nothing had happened, making Chris feel like she must have been imagining things. ¡°They all want to see in what category you¡¯ll end up. A player, a grinder or a dud.¡± Chris continued to shovel food while Doris talked. By now she wasn¡¯t even registering the repugnant taste anymore and was grateful as it allowed her to spend more attention on Doris. ¡°A player, as the name suggests, plays most of the day. The number of players has gone up quite a bit, but it still is a coveted group to be in. You only become a player if you show real talent in the game. The warden keeps track of those he considers to have talent, he uses them to¡­¡± Doris smiled widely before continuing. ¡°I see you already know something of our warden. Interesting.¡± Chris tried to, but she knew she couldn¡¯t hide her surprise at how easily this woman seemed to be reading her. She was becoming more and more certain that there was nothing crazy about her. The thought reminded her of the other women at the table, but when she looked down, they were nowhere to be seen. Chris quickly checked her b-link and saw that she only had three minutes left, many of the other inmates were already leaving the cafeteria. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry Child. I¡¯ll get you there on time. Especially since I don¡¯t have to explain about the warden.¡± Doris smiled enigmatically. It was clear that she was goading her, making her wonder exactly how much the woman had intended to tell her in the first place. She was purposefully making her uncertain of how much of the whole she knew, and how much she had lost out merely because of her inability to hide her thoughts. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. ¡®I need to work on my poker face.¡¯ Chris thought as she shoveled the last of her gruel down her throat. Doris lowered her hands palm-down on the table and continued. ¡°All you really need to know is that after everyone knows what category you fall into, you will be either coveted or used. The one thing you won¡¯t be is left in peace like you were today. You can¡¯t ignore prison politics my dear, you¡¯re in prison now and the vote is mandatory.¡± ¡°But how¡ª¡± ¡°Will they know if you¡¯re any good? Nothing is private in this world Dearie, what made you think prison would be any different. If anything, everything is more public than it ever was. The warden releases a daily ranking of all the inmates. If you¡¯re in the bottom one hundred, otherwise known as a dud, you¡¯re assigned to maintenance. That roster doesn¡¯t really change much, some people just aren¡¯t any good at the game. And if you¡¯re not good to begin with, it¡¯s almost impossible to work your way into more game time.¡± She picked up her tray and stood up, motioning with her head for Chris to follow suit. ¡°With only the government minimum of two hours, you can¡¯t get anything done. At least not when you¡¯re comparing yourself to people who play four or five times as much as you. Sometimes even more.¡± Chris walked beside the woman who, shockingly, turned out to be only a head taller than her. A very unusual occurrence for someone of Chris¡¯s height. She was used to people towering over her and had expected the same if not more from Doris. There was something about her that made her seem, for the lack of better terms, otherworldly.It was almost like this world annoyed her in its simplicity. ¡°Finally, we have the grinders. That, my Child, consists of most of the population here. You do not want to be a grinder, but unfortunately, it is nearly impossible to jump straight into being a player. Especially if you have never played before¡­¡± Doris gave Chris a sidelong glance before smiling. ¡°Yes, I didn¡¯t think so.¡± Chris frowned at herself. ¡®Damnit. Poker face. Poker face.¡¯ ¡°Well, in that case. You need to prepare yourself. The only reason you haven¡¯t become someone¡¯s minion yet is because they don¡¯t know if you¡¯re any good. Once in a blue moon, we get one of those. And in Goldilocks, Era is power. And power, might I remind you, is ev¡ªalthough¡­¡± There was another sidelong glance before she placed her empty tray on the collection belt. ¡°No, I guess I don¡¯t need to remind you.¡± Doris smiled. Chris placed her tray down and followed Doris¡¯s measured steps toward the exit where a guard waited. Glancing at her b-link she saw that she had just a little under a minute. When Doris didn¡¯t say anything further, Chris said. ¡°Basically. Players are the good ones. Duds are bad. Grinders are the common, powerless, folk. Nothing is secret. I need to keep my head down, my mouth shut and work on my poker face.¡± The woman beside her stopped a couple meters in front of the guard and smiled, for the first time showing a row of perfectly white, slightly sharpened teeth. A sharpness that required a bone-file. Chris worked on keeping her face passive, trying to hide her horror-laced aversion. ¡°Better. But still pretty horrendous.¡± Doris said and then teased her by biting at the air in front of her. She rolled her eyes when Chris refused the bait. ¡°Well, since you were such a willing pupil¡­ Is there anything else you want to know? I¡¯ll answer one question.¡± ¡°Why did you tell me all of this?¡± Chris immediately asked. ¡°Because Child. It was information anyone could have told you, information you would have found out eventually. By telling you, I lose nothing. If anything, I gain part of your trust and you feel a little indebted to me. A feeling I might just use in the future. In addition to that, I now have some valuable information in regards to you. Information that quite a few people in this room might want¡­¡± Chris saw the groups of women still milling by the exits looking at her and grew apprehensive. ¡°Psh, Child. Why would I tell them anything right now? I play the long game¡­ and so should you. If you think the game only begins when you enter that capsule, you are sorely mistaken. But¡­ I don¡¯t think you live under that misapprehension, do you?¡± Doris smiled one last time as the guards were beginning to call order, rounding up the women they would be taking for their capsule time. The woman ended up being assigned to another guard and started leaving the hall before Chris¡¯s group. ¡°Plus.¡± Doris added with a real smirk, completely independent of her scar. ¡°I think you might be one of those that takes us all by surprise. I consider you a shrewd investment.¡± Chris watched the woman¡¯s waist-length gray hair as she walked down the hall in single-file following one of the guards. She came to the realization that although the woman had done all the talking, Chris had ended up revealing more of herself even in silence. The woman remained a mystery. Turning her attention to the guard who was still calling other inmate numbers to join her group, she felt a tap on her right shoulder. She turned around to see a girl about her age, with a massive head of brown hair with red and orange ¡®sun-kissed¡¯ streaks. Chris had no idea where this girl had found make-up in prison, but she looked like a little doll. Even if she was quite a bit taller than herself. ¡°You¡¯re new too right?¡± ¡°...Yea.¡± Chris replied, looking at the girl more closely. She looked rich. Not that the standard clothing gave anything away, but the way she looked at her surroundings and everyone gave her that same arrogant air she remembered from Eddie. One of the only rich people she had known. She had met Suerte recently, but he didn¡¯t have the same rich ¡®air¡¯ that she had come to associate with them. ¡°I¡¯m Yaz. Nice to meet you.¡± Chris could tell that she didn¡¯t think it was nice at all. ¡°Do you know where they are taking us?¡± She said in a voice that seemed to be more of a command than a question. How the girl managed to do that when it was worded as a question she did not know. Chris felt like ignoring her, but then two thoughts popped into her head. ¡®First. I am in prison. I have no idea who¡¯s a psycho-killer and who is just a normal killer. Second. Didn¡¯t I just learn that no exchange in prison is free of ties? Time to put theory into practice.¡¯ ¡°I¡¯m Chris. Nice to meet you too.¡± Chris smiled. ¡°They are taking us to Era.¡± She said as if she was used to throwing that term around and hadn¡¯t been acquainted with it just days before. ¡°Ohhh. Right. The rehabilitation incentive¡­ Do you think that actually works?¡± She leaned in while looking around in what she probably thought was a furtive action, but was really plain as day. Chris felt a little uncomfortable with all the attention the girl was making her get from other inmates. Meanwhile, she remained completely oblivious and said in a loud whisper. ¡°I mean I get it that they have to see shrinks once a week to ¡®evaluate their progress¡¯ and all. But does letting a bunch of criminals play games every day really help them ¡®rehabilitate and integrate¡¯? I mean¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you mean us?¡± ¡°... What?¡± The girl blinked in confusion. ¡°You said they, when I am pretty sure you mean us.¡± ¡°Heh.¡± The girl said. ¡°I guess you are right.¡± Chris saw a flash of malice cross the girl¡¯s eyes as she said that. She wanted to shudder and look away, but she fought those urges and forced herself to remain calm. At least in appearance. She was in prison now, a max-sec at that, every single person in there with her was a criminal. It was time she started acting like one. ¡°I have no idea if it works or not, but I am guessing we will find out soon enough.¡± Chris said and gave her a conspiratorial smile. ¡°Hmm. So Era huh? Guess they won¡¯t let me keep my character. It¡¯s a shame really, I was already level one eighty two.¡± ¡°Alright ladies! Move-it!¡± Their guard yelled from the front of the line of about ten women. She led them out of the cafeteria and down a corridor. Chris was once again taken aback by the virtual scenery displayed on the walls. She could feel the fake warmth of the sun as it rose on the fake horizon, but it still got to her. The smell of pine trees was finally more powerful than that plastic-seaweed smell of the cafeteria and she couldn¡¯t help taking a deep breath to clear her mind, concentrating on every nuance of the fragrance. As she did so she felt a small pinch of a headache right behind her temple, but forgot about it when Yaz said. ¡°I was a berserker and I loved it. But for the sake of¡­ rehabilitation, I think I shall try my hand at being a shaman. What about you?¡± Chris continued looking ahead wondering if she should reply or not. If she did, the girl might find out that she had never played before. If she didn¡¯t she would lose the opportunity to gather more information. ¡®Nothing ventured, nothing gained.¡¯ ¡°I don¡¯t know yet, I don¡¯t believe in choosing classes before I even know where and what I am playing with. Too much depends on the particular situation to go in making decisions like that. For now I am more concerned with choosing my character and starting location.¡± She said flatly, as if a person would have to be a retard not to know it by heart already. Chris didn¡¯t look back immediately to see the girl¡¯s reaction to her fib, but instead waited for the guard to reach the first set of doors that had to be unlocked by more than just personnel authorization. While the guard talked to someone in command, Chris looked over her shoulder and added, ¡°Don¡¯t you think?¡± She knew she was pushing her luck by basically calling the girl stupid to her face especially if she had really been only forty levels short of the current highest level player in the game. Especially considering who and where they were. Fortunately though, the girl just shrugged and played with her hair. ¡°Yes. I guess you¡¯re right. Do you know where you are starting yet? I was just going to start in Urubriel like I did last time, since I know the layout and all, but maybe¡­¡± She hesitated. ¡°Well, what do you think?¡± This time the question came out sounding like an actual question, and the rich arrogance of the girl, while not completely gone, wasn¡¯t the defining quality of her speech anymore. Chris smiled to herself as the guard let them through the open door. ¡®Not bad for a first move, now I just can¡¯t mess it up.¡¯ Chris glanced forwards to see they had at least another minute of following the guard. That gave her enough time to complete her newly devised plan, but much more than that would most certainly reveal the fact that she had no idea what she was talking about. She would have to choose her words carefully if she wanted this to work. Her mind was working double-time trying to orchestrate how exactly everything was going to fit together. She hadn¡¯t expected to set her in-game plan into motion before she even had a character, but there she was. Part of her knew she was building a house of cards and pretense, but if it all worked out, this new development would probably cut months off of her original estimates. These possibilities were all running around her head, but somehow she still felt calm. She still felt in control. Something she had rarely felt in her lifetime, but especially the last six years. As she followed the single-file of convicts ahead of her and thought of the next set of words she would deliver to the one behind her, only one thing was absolutely certain. She was glad she had met Doris. Certain things in life you can only learn by having them done to you. Chapter 9: Paired ¡°Urubriel? You want to start in the Southern Elflands?¡± Chris asked Yaz while keeping her eyes forward. She felt a bead of sweat accumulate at the base of her neck before it slid, haltingly, down her spine. The heat of the sun was becoming more and more noticeable with each passing second. Her skin was so sensitive it felt every single one of the sun¡¯s rays individually. It felt like her senses were going into overdrive, more active than she had ever experienced them. Chris felt another pinch of a budding headache as she was overwhelmed by the feeling of a non-existent humid morning wind and the smell of drying dew on pine in the morning. Ignoring as best she could, she tried to focus on Yaz¡¯s high-pitched voice. ¡°I figured it would let me skip the early grinding stages since I already know where all the good quests are, the NPCs I need to be talking to, the best hunting areas¡ª¡± ¡°Could be.¡± Chris cut her off, already slight aggravated due to the excessive amounts of sensory data being crammed into her brain because of the b-link. She laced the annoyance into her voice in an attempt make her speech even more authentic. ¡°But as far as I know, it¡¯s already a saturated starting location. If you really want to get the best rewards, you need to start somewhere you won¡¯t have to compete for the beginner mobs¡­¡± Chris said. She had come across some gamer slang dictionary the night before and now counted her blessings, hoping the few words she remembered, like mob, would be enough to carry her through the farce. Knowing, by virtue of Doris, that her poker face didn¡¯t fool anyone, she used the excuse of the single file to keep her eyes forward as they slowly followed the guard down the hall. Chris waited, her breath catching in her throat, to see if the girl would go for the carefully laid out bait. As two seconds stretched into three and four, she couldn¡¯t help but think that she might have said something that gave her away. Going through the words she had chosen in her mind, all she could figure was that she must have used the word ¡®mob¡¯ wrong. ¡®And I don¡¯t get it. Mob is just a creature in the game that you kill for¡­ experience and... potential items that they may drop¡­ right!? I mean¡­¡¯ ¡°Well, what is a good starting place, then?¡± Yaz said, relieving Chris¡¯s mental freak out. ¡°The only places I can think of that people don¡¯t go to are the High Plains and Western Orc Marshes. And you can¡¯t mean for¡ª¡± ¡°I can.¡± Chris said while turning around to give Yaz her rendition of a self-assured smirk. ¡°You can¡¯t be serious!¡± Yaz said, eyes wide. ¡°You have to be an Orc to survive those Marshes at low-levels. And the High Plains are¡ª¡± ¡°Virtually unexplored.¡± Chris said as if she couldn¡¯t wait to explore it herself. ¡°And with good reason!¡± Yaz said, completely ignoring the tone of voice Chris had used. ¡°It¡¯s suicide to start there. All you are going to do is work yourself into a leveling dead end. I had a friend who tried starting in Durrenheim. There are no quests to speak of and she like¡­ died of terminal dehydration within a week. As far as I know it hasn¡¯t rained there in like¡­ four months. And for those that don¡¯t die from the get-go, I¡¯ve heard it pretty much goes downhill from the moment you start.¡± Chris gave her a confident smile before asking in a lecturing tone, ¡°And when was the last time Era placed an insurmountable obstacle in the game?¡± Without waiting for an answer she turned her attention back to the guard who was opening what looked to be like the last door in their path. Chris knew she was bluffing way past her means, having absolutely no clue about the internal machinations of the game, but what she had meant was for the most part true. The night before she had taken Tiny¡¯s advice, trying to prepare for Era as much as she could in advance. Other than the obvious character creation, it had struck her how important starting location seemed for success, particularly initial success. After looking at stories from some of the top players, she had come to the conclusion that they triumphed because they stood out in some way or another. She had also noticed that most of those players started out in initially unfavorable or unpopular areas. Chris had concluded that they had not only diminished the competition, but also given themselves a larger playing field. Knowing that she had to become a good player as quickly as possible, she had decided to pursue the same route. Unfortunately, her search for the unpopular starting areas had yielded the exact locations Yaz had just mentioned. The way the girl offhandedly knew information that had taken Chris quite some time to discover went a long way in showing how much catching up she had in front of her. After researching both the Western Orc Marshes and the High Plains, Chris knew that the three beginning locations at the Marshes were completely out of the question. The majority of players that tried to play in the Marshes as anything other than an Orc died within the first twenty four hours because of the racial conflict that plagued the region. This had made the entire area increasingly unpopular over the four months since it had been discovered. At first everyone wanted to have a go at the new race, but it had soon revealed itself that the Orcs had a ridiculously slow start. Even slower than the Dragonir race, which only picked up after level fifty or so. Although it had paid off for most of the players that worked through the slow Orc start, Chris knew it wasn¡¯t the race for her. She didn¡¯t have four months or twenty in-game months to prove she could be a good player. She needed to hit the ground running, making the High Plains her only starting choice. It was a very unpopular area because of it¡¯s high altitude, harsh climate and increasing density of Underworld mobs. A horrible mix for a starting location, but it would have to do. Chris looked back at Yaz, knowing she wouldn¡¯t be able to keep the charade up in game. So far she seemed to have bought the act, but as soon as Yaz saw her in action, or lack thereof, she would find out the truth. In fact, she needed to cut her conversation with the girl as short as possible to minimize the chances of a slip-up. Which was why Chris was glad, albeit a little concerned, when Yaz took a while to reply. ¡°Wow. I guess you are right.¡± She said when hey were about to enter the [VR REHABILITATION AREA]. ¡°I had never really taken the time to consider that.¡± Yaz added with a hint of amazement. Chris had worked out that, when a major event is going on in the game like a prolonged drought or a racial conflict, it was the system creating opportunities for the players to become involved in a quest. It seemed pretty straightforward to her, but she was glad it made her seem experienced since it drastically increased the chances of her plan. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Watching the guard carefully, Chris tried to gauge how much further they had to walk before they reached their destination, wondering how much time she could sacrifice before having to go on the offensive herself. ¡°Alright, so¡­ Do you want to maybe team up?¡± Yaz said, walking straight into her trap. Chris couldn¡¯t help the little victorious smile that graced her lips. Thankfully, her increasingly beloved single-file formation kept Yaz from seeing any of it. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡± Chris said with an air of reluctance. ¡°I am sure we could help each other out and everything. Do you already know where you want to start?¡± Yaz added quickly, visibly feeling pressured for time, as the guard finally stopped in front of a door labeled [CAPSULE BAY 51]. ¡°I do¡­ But I am not sure it is the best idea. I mean, don¡¯t they take convict association in-game into account in their psych evaluations or something?¡± Chris said casually, pretending that the guard¡¯s actions in securing the first convict in line weren¡¯t rushing her at all. ¡°I¡¯m sure it doesn¡¯t matter. Plus, over breakfast I heard it¡¯s different in this prison. Apparently, if you can prove you¡¯re a good player nothing else matters and they let you play all day. You also get all sorts of benefits.¡± Yaz said, her words practically rolling over each other as she anxiously watched the guard secure two more prisoners. Chris made a show of watching the guard place the locks into place after the next prisoner entered one of the vertical capsules arranged in a neat row. The room looked like a cryogenic storage unit. There were ten capsules arranged in neat intervals along the narrow but long room. Each capsule was cylindrical in shape and a meter in diameter, while being over two meters tall. Chris thought the height was a bit of an exaggeration since humans rarely came in that size. She knew she was on the very short side of humanity, but it also seldomly stretched over two meters. A part of her mind went back to the man she had met the day she had been arrested. Although she couldn¡¯t recall exactly what he looked like exactly, she remembered he had been very tall. ¡®So maybe this height exaggeration does make sense after all¡­ But still¡­ It¡¯s gonna make me feel like a pea inside a coke can.¡¯ A restless arm movement brought Chris¡¯s attention back to Yaz as the guard secured another prisoner. ¡°Oh. Really?¡± Chris asked, wondering if perhaps the girl had already managed to get some information on their new warden. ¡°Yea. I heard he let some girl buy off about a third of her sentence with game income.¡± She said impatiently as yet another prisoner was locked up. Chris wanted to ask more, and castigated herself for running out of time, but figured she would be able to get the information from Yaz at some later point. It wasn¡¯t like either of them were going anywhere anytime soon. ¡®Not that I know how long she is in for¡­ Or what for¡­ But I don¡¯t need or want to know.¡¯ There was only one prisoner left between Chris and the guard, so she turned to Yaz and spoke in a commanding no-nonsense manner. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s team up. But we start in different places. You go Schliessheim and I¡¯ll go Durrenheim. That way we won¡¯t get in each other¡¯s way in the initial stages of leveling. You know how bad it is when people team up in the beginning right?¡± Chris asked, not knowing at all and hoping Yaz didn¡¯t either but took her word for it. ¡°It takes what? About two-three weeks between the two? That should give us plenty of time to get through the initial grinding without getting in each other¡¯s way.¡± Chris¡¯s words accelerated as she watched the guard put the last lock in place before she turned to her. ¡°We can talk particulars about joining up later.¡± She finished, glad she had been able to get all the words out in time, but even more glad it didn¡¯t give her enough time to reply to Yaz¡¯s following question. ¡°Alright. Schliessheim. What about character? Do you want me to go in any particular direction with race? Clan? God? What about education tree?¡± Chris had no idea. She hadn¡¯t come to a final decision about her own character, much less about what kind of character would go well with it. If she said anything and it was a horrible fit with her character she would either be found out as a fraud or thought of as an idiot, so she happily remained silent as the guard approached her. Pretending she kept her silence because of her. The taller woman she hadn¡¯t had time to analyze until that moment took her firmly by the arm, demonstrating quite clearly how she felt about convicts, to capsule 51-9. She then pressed a button Chris did not see that opened a door that spanned from the very top to the very bottom of the generic black capsule that mirrored its brothers and sisters in every way. For a second the idea of being buried alive in a mass grave entered her head. She was hundreds of meters below earth and there was nothing on the outside of the capsule that even suggested a human was inside. The gleaming black metal left no means of identifying the person inside. With a consciously controlled expression of nonchalance she walked up to the capsule and then turned so she could reverse into it like she had seen all the other convicts do. Seeing that Yaz was still watching her, waiting for some kind of response, she smiled brightly, shrugged and said, ¡°Up to you.¡± Relief flashed across her face before she smiled in return. The guard on the other hand, had no smiles left for Chris when she closed the capsule door in her face. Chris was suddenly engulfed by complete darkness as she heard the clanking of the guard managing the lock. Claustrophobia had never been a problem for her before, but she was about to start freaking out when she felt multiple jets of cool air begin to blow on her face and body. They were imminently followed by a slight Vrrring sound that grew accompanied by the emergence of bluish white lights. For a second it was a comfort not to be in total blackness anymore, but this sentiment soon passed as the light became a blinding, slightly painful glare. Chris immediately closed her eyes tightly, trying to keep the light at bay, but this didn¡¯t help at all as it continued to grow in intensity until she heard a slight pop and was disconnected from her physical body. Chapter 10: Replaced The momentary painful brightness soon dissipated and Chris found herself deposited in the middle of a darkened space. Around her were seven different pedestals arranged in even intervals, like sentinels keeping silent watch over a potential fugitive. For a second she stood there uncertainly, unsure of where to start. She knew there were seven tasks she had to complete before the game let her in, but she wasn¡¯t sure anymore which of them came first. Thankfully she didn¡¯t have to wonder long before a beam of light landed on one of the pedestals to her right, revealing a scroll and quill that were levitating slightly above it. Chris exhaled in relief before walking toward it and picking it up. Even having prepared herself, Chris was caught off guard by how real everything felt, down to the feeling of the parchment paper and the sound of her echoing footsteps. Unrolling the scroll, she read it even though she already knew what it was going to say just to make absolutely sure of what she was signing. It was mainly a liability contract between the player and Nova Industries which stated that the player was involved at their own risk, but a section of the contract also guaranteed a substantial amount of money for whoever cleared the first stage of the game. When the game had first been released fourteen months ago it had been met with widespread reluctance. People had been scared of a technology that could mess with their brains to show them a world that didn¡¯t exist in reality. To overcome this initial fear Nova Industries had used pure monetary incentive, by promising five percent of the game¡¯s profits to whoever managed to seal the Septem Gate first. By now, when people already cared more about in-game benefits than any real life monetary compensation, other game bonuses had also been added to the jackpot. After quickly scanning the document over a second time she signed it with the quill and deposited both back onto the pedestal. The space went dark again before the scroll slowly levitated to Chris¡¯s eye-level and was enveloped by flames. She could feel the heat of the flame on her face and the burning smell of paper but those soon disappeared along with the document leaving behind not even a trace of ash. For a moment the room was dark again and Chris looked around, expecting for another beam of light to illuminate the next pedestal. Instead, she watched as a seemingly liquid trail of blue light connected the first pedestal to another one two pedestals away. She followed path until she reached the second pedestal that had nothing on it other than an indentation of a small hand. Apprehensively, Chris slowly raised her hand. She took a deep breath, trying to prepare herself for what was about to come, before she fit her fingers into the impression that fit her hand like a glove. Having read about it was one thing, but being thrown into battle was completely different. The first thing that hit her wasn¡¯t the impending horde of corrupted monsters, nor was it the sound of the battlefield where hundreds of men and women were putting steel and life on the line to save their world. No, the first thing that she registered was the smell of liquid iron in the air, the smell that is too often associated with death, the smell of blood. She could taste it on her tongue and would have spit it out in disgust if not for the mace she saw swinging down on her head. Her limbs thankfully reacted faster than her mind and the shield secured on her left arm was there to block the assault before her skull was fractured into pieces. Instead, the impact only caused a horrifying snap that Chris immediately knew was the breaking of her arm. She screamed in agony as the Taurine beast continued its attack. Dodging left and right she managed to position the shield three more times while backing up. Tears of pain were already blurring her vision and she didn¡¯t know if she would have the courage to position her arm for another barrage. She did, the instinct to survive was too strong. Gritting her teeth she took another hit as she tried to process the situation. The towering beast with colossal muscles covered with bulging veins did not look like it was about to tire. If its foaming mouth and bloodshot eyes were anything to go by her stretching survival was only aggravating it more. Her only reprieve was the slight interval of time between blows when it raised its arm above its horned head only to bring it down with even more force. Chris knew she wouldn¡¯t withstand the next one even before it hit. She couldn¡¯t help taking an instinctive step back as she readied for it nonetheless. Before the impact hit Chris¡¯s back foot slipped and she was on her back before the Taurus could complete his swing. When his mace only hit air, the topheavy creature lost his balance for a second, having to turn it¡¯s back on her to maintain his footing. It gave Chris just enough time to put her forgotten sword into use. She leaned forward with the help of her crippled arm and carved at the back of its knees with as much of her strength and bodyweight that she could. ¡°AAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!¡± The beast shouted as it collapsed forward into the ground, with purplish black blood running down its calves. Immediately it turned back to face Chris as it¡¯s muscles swelled with the second atrocious snapping sounds of the day. ¡°You¡¯re a dead man!¡± It shouted as it encroached on Chris without even bothering to retrieve the mace it had dropped. Panic rose in her throat as she tried to back off. She sacrificed the sword when she couldn¡¯t support any of her weight on her shattered arm that was lodged in the shield. Twice she tried to get up, but her feet continued to slip on the same gorey substance that had brought her down so she just scrambled backwards as fast as she could. Her bare hands were scratching against the rough straw-like yellow grass that covered the whole battlefield and in seconds it was covered in dozens of little cuts that grew more painful by the moment. Trying to ignore the growing pain in all sections of her body, she kept her eyes on her enemy as she retreated, wondering how much longer she would survive. He was gaining on her. One moment she was staring into the hate-fueled eyes of her horned adversary and the next she was looking at the vacant spot his head had held. Instead his body now ended with his cleaved off neck where black blood was suddenly gurgling in thick streams down his torso. Chris watched in fascination as the lifeless body toppled forward, it¡¯s neck just a handspan away from her boots. Relief washed over her when she realized she would live. She looked around until she spotted the beast¡¯s head sitting, like a dish on top of a plate, on a serrated disk a couple meters away. It¡¯s eyes were still open, but their hatred had been replaced by a blankness of death. Chris averted her eyes, feeling a little sick, and she realized she was sitting in what looked like the remains of an acid-doused body. She was moving before her body even completely finished registering what had happened. The putrid smell of singed hair and burned flesh finally reached her brain as the adrenaline gave away to revulsion. Slipping her whole way through the slime-like substance, she fell on her face a couple times before she saw a hand reach down to aid her. ¡°Need a little help there commander?¡± Chris looked up to see a tall blonde man in gleaming blood soaked armour. ¡°Y-yeah.¡± She said, surprised when her voice came out sounding like a man, but even more surprised that she was taller than the man when she got on her feet. ¡°We¡¯re sorry Sir.¡± The man said as he walked over to retrieve the serrated disk that was still lodged under the Taurus¡¯s head. ¡°The boys and I didn¡¯t think the Minotaur would give you any trouble. He looked pretty weak¡­¡± He said, but quickly glanced in Chris¡¯s direction when he realized it. ¡°But I guess he was stronger than he looked. We should get going Commander, we need to hit the Western Quadrant. The mages there are being overwhelmed by some nasty Vampyrs.¡± Looking around Chris realized they were a good hundred meters from the front line. She relaxed a bit for the first time since she had placed her hand on the pedestal. As she tried once again to unlodge her shield from her disfigured arm, she thought about how she had been quite lucky that the random historical figure in whose body she was placed for the game intro was a commander. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. There were competitive forums to see who could postpone their inevitable death the longest. Some had even put up special items as rewards for those who shared their run. Chris hadn¡¯t even considered trying for one because she knew she was going to die within minutes, which she would have had it not been for her rank of commander. Deciding it was worth a try she turned to her lethal-looking companion and said. ¡°Take me to headquarters.¡± ¡°Certa¡ª¡± The man said before looking back at her in confusion. ¡°Headquarters sir? What about the mages? It is our duty to¡ª¡± ¡°Soldier.¡± She said cutting him short. He looked shocked and Chris wondered if soldier wasn¡¯t the right word or if the real commander was friends with the guy. ¡°Headquarters. Now.¡± She said firmly, holding her battered shield arm up as if to make a point that she would be useless in battle. ¡®Which is absolutely true.¡¯ The man didn¡¯t look convinced but agreed nonetheless. Chris sighed in relief and followed the man out of the battlefield. They were soon joined by seven other men and women. Going by their gear, they were highly trained, each a master of their weapon. When each of them stared at her empty right hand, she noticed she had left her sword behind on the battlefield. She glanced back surreptitiously and took in the scene of mass-carnage. The further they retreated, the more she could see how big the battle was. It was obvious that they were on the losing side, the corrupted monsters were gaining on them, meter by meter, man by man. She felt a pinch of guilt when her men gave her indirect accusing glances, but was comforted by the fact that she knew her actions would have no consequence, not even for the artificially intelligent characters present. The history of Nova Era was already determined, she was merely living out a small finite branch of an alternate version history the way it would have happened with her in the commander¡¯s shoes. Every new player ended up in someone else¡¯s shoes but they never influenced history or the versions other characters got to see. She wasn¡¯t doing anyone any harm by hiding and trying to survive as long as she could. Chris continued to watch as more and more people died by the hands of the impending horde. The dry yellow grass was being soaked and stained by more and more blood. From where she stood she watched as a war elephant brought down four of their mages with spiked tusks. One of the mages remained impaled as the elephant continued its attack, vehemently swinging its head from side to side. ¡®Alright. I probably could have been helping¡­ or my people could have been helping¡­ But I need them to keep me alive¡­¡¯ The moment she thought this the ground underneath two of her men collapsed, revealing a black abyss below that sucked the air in with quickly escalating speed. Another of her soldiers, a tall elven female archer this time, was drawn in as well before anyone could do anything to stop it. ¡°BACK!¡± The blonde soldier who seemed to be her lieutenant yelled. ¡°They¡¯ve torn open another gate! Everybody back! Retreat to a saf¡ª¡± The rest of his words were cut off as three corrupted beings jumped out of the gate and engaged him in combat. While Chris instinctively backed off, her other men engaged in combat as well. Two men separated themselves and stood in front of her, casting spells to help the men in front. It was obvious that they had fought together countless times. The men at the front moved in fluid unison, never getting in each other¡¯s way. While one parried the other stabbed the monster to death. In less than ten seconds the three initial enemies had been dispatched with the aid of buffing spells from the mages. Unfortunately there was no time to celebrate as more beasts continued to climb out of the gate. It was obvious that her lieutenant was leagues beyond the others in terms of skill. At one point she watched him dispatch three goblins with one swing of his sword. The mages helped as much as they could with paralysis and healing spells. Together they also rained down a barrage of fire bolts into the hole which bought their group some precious seconds to regroup. They had had slain over two dozen beasts when they finally managed to retreat a bit. All Chris could do was stand uselessly by as she watched them fight in amazement. So far no one else had died, leaving them with a total of six people to fight what looked like would be hundreds of more beasts. After the couple of seconds of respite they were once again facing several beasts. Her lieutenant had walked back to her side the moment the firebolts hit. He now handed her the sword she thought she had left behind. ¡°I am sorry for doubting you Commander. I should know better.¡± Without having an option, Chris took the sword while giving him a confused look. ¡°You always do things for a reason. You knew they would try to attack us from behind. Hell, we should all have seen it coming. With the gatekeepers losing power...¡± He parried and struck a Minotaur that had approached them, killing him in one easy blow. ¡°... It was only a matter of time before they tore open more gates.¡± Chris gripped the sword tightly, wishing someone had advised her of that fact and noticing how her hands were sweaty on the pommel. She looked down to realize it wasn¡¯t sweat but gore. Feeling sick she tried to focus on the fight before her. She was going to die, there was no way around it. Everyone around her, good and evil alike, moved with fluid killing grace. Their weapons all extensions of their bodies. Meanwhile, she felt like a tank with the amount of armour she was wearing. She looked around helplessly, trying to spot a beast she would at least have a fighting chance of killing. Her hesitation didn¡¯t go unnoticed as the clanging grew louder and faster as more and more beasts joined the fray. There was nothing she could do as one of the mages died protecting her from an undead creature. Her lieutenant killed it before it could get to her but he glared at her in part accusation and part confusion. She staggered back as the creature¡¯s body splattered all over the place in pungent pieces, one of them hitting the useless shield still attached to her arm with a hollow clang. Before she knew it, Chris had retreated even more allowing her to see just how outnumbered they were. She swallowed, noticing again that the slight taste of blood had not left her mouth yet. ¡°Help!¡± She heard the hoarse voice of her lieutenant cry out. He was cornered with the only other surviving fighter at his back. They gave her pleading looks that were laced with certain hope. The pile of corpses around them was a testament to their strength as fighters, but it seemed that the body she inhabited had belonged to an even better fighter. A better man than she was a woman. She turned around and booked it, pumping her legs as fast as she could, immediately dropping the sword her still unnamed lieutenant had harboured for her. A part of her felt bad, but a bigger part knew she needed more speed. It wasn¡¯t a matter of if, but when. If her men managed to distract them for long enough, she might have enough time to find a place to hide. Each step seared her arm with a lance of pain as she ran as fast and far away as she could. That distance turned out to be twenty meters, at which point she felt about a dozen or so points of sharp and agonizing impact on her back. She had just enough time to look down and see the an arrow protruding out the front of her neck before she collapsed forward onto the ground. A coward¡¯s death. ¡®I guess I deserved that.¡¯ She thought as the torturous pain lasted another couple of seconds before she finally came to, with her hand on the pedestal and not a scratch on her body. Chris had survived seventeen minutes, two minutes below average. ¡®Well, at least I tried.¡¯ She thought as she followed the next blue light that illuminated, leading the path to the next pedestal, two pedestals over. Chapter 11: Gladiated The third pedestal had the same hand-shaped indentation as the previous one and Chris apprehensively raised her hand to start her character creation. Even knowing what to expect, the second pedestal had taken her by surprise, making her hesitant in entering the next task. She brought her hand down which caused the room to brighten slowly. Chris watched as the broad expanse of the space around her was revealed at the same time as the pedestals, with the exception of the one under her hand, dissolved into sand like particles before blowing away into nothingness. Seconds later she found herself in an empty, brightly lit white space with no walls or ceiling to speak of. Although she couldn¡¯t distinguish the floor from its surrounding of blank whiteness either, she knew it was there merely because of the solid surface she felt under her feet. After the surroundings stabilized around her, she had to wait a bit before the indent started glowing blue underneath the palm of her hand. The glow became so strong it made her hand above it seem translucent. When she tried pulling her hand free she realized it was stuck to the pedestal. Chris watched as the glow spread until the whole pedestal was lit up¡ªfrom the inside¡ªin blue light. She continued to watch as straight, little fracture lines spread along the pedestal, outlining dozens of slim rectangles along the surface of the pedestal¡¯s stone. As the fracture lines darkened, Chris grew slightly apprehensive and tried to extract her hand again. When it still didn¡¯t budge, she tried using more force as the lines grew more and more pronounced. Her suspicions were confirmed when a second later the entire pedestal started vibrating slightly under her fingertips. It was going to blow up. Chris didn¡¯t know how virtual death by explosion would feel, but if her previous experience of virtual death by arrows was anything to go by, it was going to hurt like hell. Growing more frustrated by the second, she lifted one foot against the pedestal, trying to gain some leverage and push herself away from it. The vibrations were growing stronger as her attempts were growing more frantic. Her hand felt like it was stretching, ready to pop off her wrist at any second. But the erupting pedestal was quite alarming so she continued to pull with all her might. When that still didn¡¯t work, she lifted up her second foot to get an even greater leverage. With each leg secured to one side of her hand, she was able to throw her full body weight against the grip of the pedestal. When she couldn¡¯t separate herself even with the help of the other leg, she was about to give up and just wait for the system to do whatever it was that it was going to do, when the pedestal really did blow up. Instead of a large bang that flung her across the room as the pedestal went up in explosive shards, Chris watched as the pedestal dismantled itself along the rectangular lines spanning its whole surface. Each piece shot out to different locations around her. She fell onto her butt as the surface she had been propping herself against disintegrated, but she didn¡¯t feel the impact as she landed, she was too focused on the pedestal fragments. Each piece looked like a slim rectangular slab that first morphed into what looked like lines upon lines of blue code, which quickly changed and grew in appearance until it became a large translucent screen displaying some sort of creature. The dozens of other fragments underwent the same procedure until Chris found herself sprawled on the floor, surrounded by dozens of screens, each displaying a potential race choice. These ranged from races she could recognize like elves, dwarves, humans and most recently minotaurs to things she had never seen before. Creatures that looked part cat or snake or even fish and others that she had no simple way to describe. One of the ones that drew Chris¡¯s eye had what looked like tentacles for hair, and when she got up to have a closer look approaching the screen, the tentacles suddenly started wiggling in her direction. Chris shuddered and immediately closed the window by waving her hand in front of her in a gesture of dismissal. She already knew she wanted to be an elf, with their strong litheness, but took a minute to look at the options anyway. When she was about to go with her initial choice though, a window suddenly appeared before her. Nova Era currently has 39 available races. You have the option of choosing one now or conducting a series of system assisted tests that will help you determine which race is most suited to you. Accept | Decline Until that moment Chris had completely forgotten the option even existed. It had such a small segment in the instruction manual and none of the forums seemed to think it worth the time it took. Chris wanted to ignore the suggestion for the sake of time. She had already wasted too much in the introductory immersion of the game, it was time she actually went into the game to prove herself. She was about to decline the suggestion when the perfectionist side of her took over and decided to accept the help. If she didn¡¯t go through with it now, she would always wonder and if she could regulate and optimize her character to help her in the future. It was bound to be a worthwhile investment. ¡®Wasn¡¯t it?¡¯ Chris just hoped she hadn¡¯t made or signed up to make a huge mistake or waste of time. [Accept] Her surroundings changed once again. Each pixel of her environment dissolving into grains of sand, giving the illusion that Chris was surrounded by a dust cloud which was swept away by an unfelt wind to reveal an arena. Although she had just been in an undefined infinite space, the sheer size of the arena astounded her. She was standing on the ground, in the middle of an oval, sand covered area. The arena itself was surrounded by tall walls which led to rows upon rows of stands. Thankfully they were vacant but the whooshing wind through the colosseum made it seem like there was a roaring crowd just meters away. This time Chris felt the wind skim her body with its warm moisture and the the grains of sand as they scraped at her ankles and calves. Even the air she breathed in felt and taste different. The sun glared down upon her shoulders, making her realize, for the first time, that her clothes had been replaced. Instead of the prison gear she had been wearing in the darkened pedestal room, she was wearing a simple threadbare and sleeveless tunic that reached down to her lower thighs. Her shoes and prison slacks had simply disappeared. Chris lifted her tunic out of curiosity to check if she had any undergarments on. Something she absolutely would not have done if there had been an audience in the stands. ¡®... Friggin bastards gave me a diaper.¡¯ Chris thought as she saw the cloth that was tied around her waist and legs. ¡®All that¡¯s missing is a safety pin.¡¯ Your trial is now beginning. Perform to the best of your abilities to ensure an accurate assessment of your attributes. A screeching sound of metal on metal roamed across the arena, making Chris¡¯s spine tense. She looked around, searching for the origin of the sound until her eyes fell on a large metal gate that was slowly opening as the gears fell into place, notch by notch. Each clacking sound made Chris more and more tense, so much so that she was eventually curling her toes around the sand on the ground with her fists tightened and cold shivers advanced down her spine. As the gate rose, Chris suddenly realized what was behind it. She was in a gladiator arena, her trial was ¡®beginning¡¯ and a gate was opening, that was enough for her to work out that the game wasn¡¯t about to let out a kitten to test her. As if on cue, a loud roar reverberated across the whole arena. It was, unfortunately, of unmistakably feline nature. ¡®Or maybe it will¡­¡¯ Chris looked around quickly, looking for a way out. She was quite certain the game didn¡¯t want to test her affinity with cats, so she doubted it would play nice. Unfortunately, the walls surrounding her were all over ten meters high and all of the gates, excepting one, were locked shut and she wasn¡¯t about to approach that one. The clanking seemed to grow louder by the second as she unthinkingly fell back a step at a time. Instinct: 1 Credit A notification suddenly popped up at the same time as Chris spotted a bright blue flash from the corner of her eye. Looking toward it she saw that there was now a person in the stands. A man with a graying beard in a simple robe who stood there, watching her with his arms crossed, obviously unpleased with the scene before him. Before Chris could give him another thought the gate lifted enough for the lion behind it to reach a paw underneath the iron gate to scratch at the sand before it. Forgetting her unwanted audience for now, Chris immediately turned around and began running toward the wall opposite the lion¡¯s gate. The sand was hot under her feet but she didn¡¯t let them touch the ground long enough for it to be a painful problem. She kicked up sand as she ran and pumped her arms to help propel her forward. The clanking sounds were still continuous but Chris couldn¡¯t help looking backward to see how much time she still had and immediately regretted it when she saw that the lion had already managed to exit the gate. He was standing there, mane blowing in the wind, as he assessed the contents of the arena, his gaze inevitably landed on her. She never stopped running, not even when she saw the lion start his slow advance on her. The lion¡¯s graceful movement across the sand did not go unnoticed by her as his shoulders rolled in their joints to ensure a seamless advance. Chris gulped and redirected her attention to her escape route, trying to work out a plan. There was no point to wait out the enemy with the current conditions. With claws and fangs up against fingers and pretty lips, she knew putting up a fight wasn¡¯t an option. She needed to find a way out. The walls were still a good twenty meters ahead of her. She scanned them, trying to find the best place to climb out of the hell hole the game had thrown her in. Ten meters out, she still hadn¡¯t spotted anything that would serve as a foothold. Part of her wanted to look back at the encroaching lion, but the reasonable part knew it would only slow her down and mess with her concentration. Scanning the walls more closely, she finally found what she was looking for, an anomaly in the otherwise uniform wall. She didn¡¯t want to head toward any of the gates in case the game decided to release another lion, she feared that was a distinct possibility. Chris didn¡¯t slow down as she reached the wall, slamming into it, using her arms to absorb her speed. Once again notifications popped up and once again the audience flashed with blue lights as new spectators appeared. Speed: 10 Credits Stamina: 2 Credits Endurance: 1 Credits Strength: 1 Credit There were now over a dozen people in the stands and Chris realized that all of her actions were being measured by some unknown formula. Looking up, she saw little crevices between the stacked rocks that made up the wall. She could display her climbing skills and they would probably give her some strength credits and whatever other credits the system decided were involved in the act of climbing. But the lion, which hadn¡¯t immediately ran after her like she had expected, was walking toward her like she was some sure and easy prey. ¡®Fuck that.¡¯ She thought in annoyance. ¡®It¡¯s just a game right?!¡¯ She reminded herself. ¡®I might as well prove my skills by bringing this little shit down.¡¯ The lion looked back at her with a steady gaze as if reading her thoughts. ¡®Well, maybe not so little.¡¯ She thought, remembering it was a lion she was up against. Looking around for some kind of weapon, Chris remembered the anomaly in the wall. Turning around to face it again she scanned the rock above her and spotted what she had seen, a torch holder. It was about a meter above her head, and looking back at the lion she figured she still had another twenty seconds or so before he reached her. Chris didn¡¯t even bother jumping for it, with her height, it just wasn¡¯t going to happen. She quickly fit her toes into the cracks in the wall, being thankful for the bare state of her feet. Three footholds later she was able to hold onto the torch holder, using it to keep her balance as her toes were pinched in the wall fissures. Upon a closer inspection she was able to see that the torch it held. It was made of iron. Counting her lucky stars, she instantly grabbed it before jumping back to the ground. More notifications popped up, but Chris ignored them completely, focusing on the opponent before her. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Strength: 2 Credits Dexterity: 3 Credits Not wanting to be backed into a corner, she immediately ran away from the wall again. The lion was less than fifteen meters away and still maintained his slow and measured pace. The burned out torch in her hand was basically a metal rod she could wrap her hands around in a firm grip. It wasn¡¯t exactly what she¡¯d wish for when facing a lion. Chris thought a gun would have been more appropriate, or even the sword she had so easily discarded in the previous battle, but she would have to do with what she was given. Having put twenty meters between her and the wall, Chris turned to face the lion. She had hoped to put more distance between them, but she was already a little out of breath and did not want to face the lion with a side stitch and gasping for air. The lion also came to a halt, five meters before Chris who spread her feet apart and raised her arms before her, readying for a fight. She had no idea how she was going to take on the creature which was at least three times as big as she, but she prepared herself nonetheless. Chris had expected the lion to attack her immediately, but once again it surprised her and instead just circled around her menacingly, appraising her. Instead of feeling like she was being evaluated in terms of fighting potential though, Chris felt like the lion was seizing up her palatableness. It circled her once, twice, three times before she finally lost her patience and decided to go on the offensive herself. She waited, watching the beast¡¯s eyes for a moment when it let it¡¯s guard down, and immediately lunged toward it when she saw it¡¯s eyes dart downward to her eyes. The creature was caught off guard, and stood stock still while Chris brought the rod down on it¡¯s head. She was worried it was going to immediately attack and kill her in return, but instead it dissolved into a cloud of white smoke the moment she made contact. She faltered in surprise as she watched a small slimy creature bounce away. It had no distinguishable shape. It was merely a blob and it couldn¡¯t move very far in each bounce. As she watched its slow escape it dawned on her why the lion had approached her in such seeming leisure. Her hands dropped down in relief, but she didn¡¯t let go of the iron rod. Instead, this time it was her walking steadily toward the creature. She almost felt bad for it, knowing there was nothing it could do to hurt her. Probably like what a real lion would have felt when looking at her in a threadbare tunic, with a rusty metal rod in hand. Watching it, she wanted to just let it bounce away to safety, but somehow she knew that to progress to the next stage in her test she would need to finish it off for good. Gripping the rough surface of the rod tightly, she brought it above her head before swinging it down with force. It splattered all over the place, but mainly all over her. Chris scrunched her nose. It smelled like old fish mixed with flour. Chris didn¡¯t have time to check on the new credits that had shown up, but going from the cheers that were coming from the growing crowd, she had received a couple more during the ¡®battle¡¯. Seconds later, two more gates opened. This time releasing one lion and a rabid bull. For a moment she was just as apprehensive as she had been about the first lion, but when their progress seemed to be slow just like the one before them, she smiled and approached them at a jog. She swung her rod once, ready to swing it again after destroying the mirage. After the puff of smoke dissolved she noticed that this slime seemed to be more aggressive and wasn¡¯t immediately running away from her, but she splattered him across the arena floor nonetheless. Turning to repeat the same with the rabid bull slime, she noticed that it had managed to close in on her faster than she had expected. Much faster than the first slime¡¯s lethargic pace. Before it could get any closer though, she repeated the same process and was splattered with even more foul smelling slime. Chris noticed more flashes of light in the stands as the audience continued to increase at what seemed to be like a quickening pace. When another two gates opened, releasing two great wolves each, she realized she was already breathing heavily. The adrenaline was pumping in her body and a grin was stamped across her face. She didn¡¯t know if it was the excitement of crowd that was driving her, the adrenaline of overcoming what seemed to be like a tough situation or even the mere freedom she was experiencing by being in a game world. Although the results would transfer over to the real world, she was winning and she was liking it. Growing excited, she turned to face the pack of wolves with her own feline smile. This time she held her ground. Going by her experience that far, the game would give her more and more adversaries who knew for how long. She would need to preserve her stamina as much as she could. Chris didn¡¯t have to wait long since the wolves¡¯s speed was much faster than the bull¡¯s. Part of her was worried about the increasing abilities of her foes, part of her was excited the fight was finally becoming challenging and a part of her was concerned about that growing excitement. She smashed down on the first wolf¡¯s head expecting it to puff into a cloud of smoke, instead it growled and tried biting her arm. Caught off guard, her arm almost landed in it¡¯s mouth but instinct took over and smashed him over the head again. Chris was beginning to think she was fighting an actual wolf when it also puffed into smoke revealing a slightly bigger slime with a fanged mouth. As she watched the other three wolves she still had to kill, she couldn¡¯t help feeling relieved they were still just slimes. She brought down her makeshift weapon again and killed it with one swing. Readying herself for the onslaught that was to follow, Chris spread her legs like she had seen people do in countless movies and TV shows before. She took a deep breath, and raised her weapon before her. She wished the wolves would attack individually like the first one had but, of course, that wasn¡¯t what happened. As if by telepathy, they all attacked at the same time. One went for her arm, the other for her leg and the last one went directly for her throat. She ducked to avoid the most vital one and then shrieked as the other two hit their marks. Thankfully the wolf had aimed for her left hand and she was able to vehemently beat him off with her rod. After turning him into a slime, she immediately turned and did the same for the other one before the third one could come back for her neck again. As the second wolf turned back into slime form, she felt a sudden flaring pain on her right shoulder as the third wolf''s fangs sank into her flesh. The pain shot across her body making her want to scream out in pain and forget what she was doing. She gritted her teeth together, trying to ignore the loud growling wolf on her right ear as it continued to maul her. She transferred her rod to her left hand and violently smashed it into the last wolf¡¯s head until it also turned into a slime. The moment she did so, three more gates started to open at the same time as the fanged slimes jumped onto her torso and started biting into her chest and abdomen. Shoving the pain aside for later, she immediately smacked them to death with the rod in her right hand. It pained her recently injured shoulder, but she knew it was still much stronger and accurate than her left. Having disposed of the slimes completely, she looked around to find her new opponents. A larger pack of even larger wolves. Rolling her shoulder Chris readied herself again with the chorus of the cheering crowd encouraging her to continue. It was going to be a tough fight. Chris counted at least eight as her feet curled into the sand and sweat slid down her back. She was panting slightly, but her smile never faltered. Especially not after the rod in her hand slowly liquefied itself before morphing into a sword. It was much heavier than the rod, taking a toll on her injured shoulder, but Chris¡¯s grin turned into a smirk nonetheless. She watched as the pack approached her at a decent pace. Each one of them was eyeing her closely. ¡°BRING IT!¡± She yelled. The crowd responded by shouting and jumping in the stands. Their voices were amplified by the colosseum¡¯s design, but the crowd itself had already grown considerably. Knowing that her actions had brought them into existence gave her a sort of confidence she had never felt in real life. Knowing that she couldn¡¯t die for real gave her a recklessness she had never experienced before. Jumping into the fray, Chris disposed of her new foes much faster than before. The use of the sword was a game changer. At first wielding it felt very awkward and she swung it around like a hammer more than a knife. That changed after one of her downward swings cut her own leg. She became very conscious in the direction she was swinging her weapon so no further self-mutilation took place. It was a lesson painfully learned. The gates kept opening, the crowd kept growing and she kept killing slimes. Every time she faced more, and more difficult, opponents. Every time she enjoyed it more. By the tenth pair off her body was already riddled with injuries ranging from bruises to a quite nasty gash. She barely felt them. The slimes continued to grow in difficulty, slowly evolving beyond the existence as a slime. They gained fangs, then arms, then claws that became increasingly large and powerful. Their body composition was also slowly changing to become more solid than gel like. Her sword was eventually replaced by an axe, then a hammer, then a scythe and many other weapons she didn¡¯t even know the name of. By the time she was so bloody and sweaty her grip was slipping, she was barely able to breathe in enough air. Her weapon had already morphed more than a dozen times. Time piled up on top of itself as hours upon hours went by. Chris fought opponent after opponent. None of her kills were pretty and she often ended up surviving by a miracle or a stroke of sheer luck. She knew that a couple of fights would not immediately turn her into an incredible fighter, but she had hoped for some kind of noticeable improvement. Instead she felt like she was actually getting worse with each weapon change. After one of her more successful bouts, she gained a small reprieve to take stock of the situation. It turned out not to be such a good thing since it gave her time to actually feel her injuries, particularly an especially nasty gash a goblin had given her side. Hundreds of spectators filled the stands by the time Chris faced what was to be her final opponent. The game had equipped her with two swords a couple rounds back. She ended up mostly using her right, only putting her left up for defense whenever a hit was about to land from that side. It was completely uncoordinated on her part and she felt over-equipped. Two swords were actually worsening the situation but she continued to use both of them for the purposes of the test. The game was gathering data and all that she would manage by fighting with less than she was given was skewing that data. The final gates screeched open as a dragon-like creature came out. It towered over her by a good five meters and Chris already knew she wasn¡¯t going to make it by the time it approached her. She was breathing heavily with sweat dripping off her face, arms and even fingers. Wanting to go out with a bang, she raised her heavy arms intending to give him a good dozen gashes before he tore out her throat, impaled her or gave her an equally horrifying death. Unfortunately she was wrong. Before she could even prepare for it, a large lance of fire came shooting out of its mouth. It engulfed her in an inferno of heat and pain. The flames roared in her ears, but they weren¡¯t loud enough to disguise the loud cheers of the crowd. Everything went black before she even decided on how to attack. It looked like it would be a while before she could go out with a bang. So far her deaths had been quite uninspiring. You have completed your trial. You have amassed a total of 679 credits. Your diagnostics are now available for examination. Recommended Races: Darkling, Elf, Halfling, Gnome, Dwarf Chapter 12: Created Chris found herself back to the same white empty space as before, dozens of screens surrounding her. Only this time, five of those screens were flashing slightly. Each depicted a different race, showcasing a nondescript and standard specimen of each race along with their statistics. Her eyes automatically veered toward the flashing elf screen. Half of the screen displayed an elf that was rotating in mid air, wearing standard leather armour. The other half had the race¡¯s specs on it. Gesturing with her right hand, Chris beckoned the screen toward her. She¡¯d never been in virtual reality before but she took it for granted that some things like the screen interfaces would remain the same as they were in the real world. As it floated her way, the remaining screens stacked behind it like soldiers on parade, before finally disappearing from sight;the elf screen grew and grew in size until it stood in front of her, ready for inspection. The generic elf stopped rotating in midair as soon as Chris looked at it, and instead assumed an impatient look whilst crossing its arms. It could go both ways, being a woman or man so Chris was reticent in assigning it a gender. The other half of the screen gave information about the race and its characteristics. Elf A humanoid creature with strong ties to the earth. Known for their strong affinity with manic creatures and their capricious nature. After a brief description of the race there was a comprehensive list of the Elfin specs, their strengths and weaknesses in terms of characteristics were listed. It was a race that specialized in speed and accuracy over brute strength. Chris glanced over the each attribute before noticing a button with [Trial Result Affinity] on it. Chris lifted her hand and tapped the option. The screen grew in size and added another column to the right of the characteristics with a bunch of bars on it. The column was labeled as [Affinity Level] and showed different values ranging from 0 to 100 for each characteristic. Anything above sixty was coloured green, anything above twenty was coloured yellow and anything below was red. Chris was surprised to find that while she did have some green bars, most of her bars were yellow. She even had a couple red ones when it came to weapon skills, but most surprising of all was that she had a score of zero on one of them. Height. She hadn¡¯t even realized it had been tested, but there it was. A big, glaring, red zero. Twisting her brows in confusion she clicked on the red bar to investigate. A window and a graph popped up. The first explained the score and the second she didn''t initially understand. It showed a bell graph with a flashing red dot in the far bottom left. It was only after she read the axes that she understood. The x-axis showed the range of the other female player¡¯s heights and the y-axis showed the distribution thereof. Most of the players heights were about 25cm taller than her, which wasn¡¯t unsurprising. She was used to being short. What Chris wasn¡¯t used to though, was knowing that she was in the bottom percent of the female height distribution of the world. It shocked her. She¡¯d always known she was short but she had never realized quite how much. To add to the shocking realization, the explanation of her score basically ruined her plan of being an elf. You may choose to create any character you desire to in Nova Era. However, be aware that the virtual technology cannot make up for too much of a discongruity with your real world body. It cannot change how your brain sees that body immediately. In order to prevent neural miscommunications with your limbs, and to prevent clumsiness, players are thus advised to keep their chosen body limitations within fifteen percent of the real ones. Doing some quick math, Chris realized that she wouldn¡¯t be able to add more than twenty two centimeters to her real height. That would make her exactly one meter seventy which was nowhere near the minimum height of one meter eighty required for the Elfin race. Chris had flailed around like a drunken sailor during the reenactment of one of Era¡¯s recent wars. It had been attributed to the adrenaline laced fear of the occasion, but it now dawned on her that she might have been wrong. She definitely didn¡¯t want to have yet another disadvantage playing against her, especially if she really was as far behind as her trial results showed. Disillusionment clawed under her skin, but it was not enough for her to disregard the fact that being an Elf was no longer a viable option. Crossing her arms in annoyance she shooed the screen away with her hand, not letting herself dwell on it anymore. When the screen, although smaller, still remained among the foremost ranks with the other flashing screens she quickly made a crossing motion with her hand. It immediately stopped flashing and a big red X slammed into it as it disappeared behind dozens of other racial screens. The game had chosen the Elfin race as one of her better races even though she would have a major disadvantage in terms of her height. It made her wonder how low her affinities with the rest of the game¡¯s races were for the Elfin race to even be considered. ¡°Organize by racial affinity.¡± Chris commanded her troops. The screens all lined up, the flashing ones in front of the parade formation. They were in the order of Darkling, Halfling, Gnome, Dwarf and Elf. The Elfin screen stood there, taunting her with broken dreams. She motioned to it before saying, ¡°Get rid of it.¡± The screen disintegrated into thousands of little pixels before blowing away in a blueish haze. ¡°Show values.¡± She said. Percentages popped into sight, one above each screen. Shock of her abysmal scores slapped her across the face. The best value being 53% and the lowest being 2%. She¡¯d known she wasn¡¯t going to be a good fighter, but she hadn¡¯t expected to be basically ostracized from all races. Steeling herself, she tried to look ahead. It wasn¡¯t a popularity contest, all she needed to do was keep her plan going and become indispensable in other ways. Eventually, there was no way around it, she would have to learn to fight. Success in the game, especially in later stages, hinged on it. For now though, her non-existent skills would have to be enough. The low values sneered at her from across the ranks, making Chris feel like the unwanted last kid on the bench that no one wanted in their team. Annoyed, she dismissed the rest of the races except for the remaining top four. The Dwarven race was listed as 27% affinity, too low for Chris. They were also creatures that specialized in strength as a weapon which didn¡¯t fit with her at all. The Gnome was listed at 32% but after looking more closely at the race¡¯s characteristics, she saw they couldn¡¯t absorb manic creatures. An immediate dismissal. In the end the choice came down to the Darkling or the Halfling. Not knowing anything about either, Chris brought the screens up side by side for easier comparison. Halfling A humanoid creature of small stature and ridiculous moodswings. Known for their agility and dexterity, especially with other people¡¯s coin. Darkling A being grown from the darkness and depravities of the living realm. Known for their initial incorporeal state as well as their suffocating presence. Forewarning: Not all races can team up with this race, some will attain substantial debuffs. Forewarning*: If you choose this race you will be living in unspeakable pain until you gain a body. Forewarning**: Otherworlders that are enrolled in the Convict Rehabilitation Initiative are not able to bring the pain settings below 100%. A glimmer of excitement had grown in her eyes at the description of the Darkling, but as soon as she read the first forewarning, she knew she wouldn¡¯t be able to choose it. Her future success was going to depend on others, she just didn¡¯t have the option of taking on a race that complicated her eventual plans for joining and creating a guild. Shooing the Darkling screen away like a troublesome fly, only the Halfling one was left. A window popped up. Do you wish to become a Halfling? Yes | No Chris opted for [Yes] and the Halfling screen before her expanded like a bedsheet before wrapping itself around her in a large arc, cocooning her away from the white space of the room with no boundaries. The statistics of the race disappeared from the screen that was no longer a screen but was instead enveloping her. The small Halfling on the other hand multiplied into six before each copy shot across the area around her. Each Halfling was positioned in an even circular distribution around her and as the standard dark blue background colour of the screen was replaced by a different biome in each Halfling¡¯s segment, they too changed. They had all been copies of the original standard halfling, which looked just like a human but much smaller, with small circular ears, proportionately bigger eyes and button noses. Now each was distinctively individual. The one standing about an armspan in front of Chris grew a little in size, especially around the arms. Behind it the scenery changed into a rocky terrain along the side of a mountain range. A boulder appeared behind the Halfling and it nonchalantly plopped down, giving Chris a bored look. A little weirded out, she looked around to see that the other halflings had also changed physically. Two had grown smaller, one had darkened considerably, while another had whitened to a paleness of snow only rivaled by the stringently white cop of hair on its head. All of the biomes were different, though forests seemed to be the prevailing theme, holding three of the six spots. One of them was a rainforest and as soon as Chris focused her attention on that biome, the forest sounds of chirping crickets, rustling leaves and snapping twigs came to life. She could smell the moisture in the air and all the other halflings around her were forgotten, only to be remembered when she turned her attention again, only to be immersed in a completely different space. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. As the investigation of the differen clan differences stretched out, Chris tried to find out which of the clan¡¯s physical builds would be best suited for her. They all had special attributes, skills and bonuses and Chris wasn¡¯t sure how to stack her own deck. Her trial results hadn¡¯t been what she expected and she brought them out for closer examination. Dozens of graphs came up showing her location on the bell curve of performance. Focusing on the limitations of each clan first, Chris immediately dismissed the bulkier Halfling clan which didn¡¯t allow for any other weapon choice other than the glaive. Her performance with it had been less than exemplary. As in, the bottom three percent. One of the forest Halfling clans could not eat meat and, from what the forums said, players would have to rely on hunted wildlife for nourishment at some point or another. Especially where she planned on going, where a drought was withering away any and all viable plant foods. Finally, she also dismissed the white haired, pale Halfling clan that, although very resistant to temperature variations, would just stand out too much with its colouring. Each of the remaining Halfling took up a bigger segment of the area around her while Chris continued to study them and her results. She had done abysmally in every single thing. Well, not abysmally per se, but quite averagely in everything. Except for the weapon handling results; those she didn¡¯t even want to look at. Not all of the best players she had looked into had been good at fighting when they started, but they all had something that made them special, that made them stand out. Chris just needed to figure out what that was going to be for her. Looking at her graph results, she crestfallen realized there was nothing that she stood out in. Her pointer was always either smack dab in the middle of the bell curve or in the lower half. The only exception was her height. In a way she did excel at that. She excelled at being exceedingly short. Her eyes widened in realization as her lips stretched into a self-satisfied smirk. Quickly checking the height limitations of the remaining Halfling clans she chose the one with the best small size disposition. It turned out to be the rainforest biome clan which had evolved to become small and lythe so as to be invisible and noiseless in the hunt. Chris quickly dismissed the other clan options. As a clan of hunters their special skills were SharpSight and AllFours. The special attribute was a reduced bone density which decreased a body¡¯s weight by ten percent, making stealth much easier. The only drawback was that it made you more susceptible to damage. Because of the two skills, the clan did not offer any special status bonuses to start with. SharpSight: Increases chance of spotting target from far away. Current skill ability allows for one target to be marked at a time. Current range: 15 meters. AllFours: The ability to walk on hands and feet to minimize weight on each point of contact. Reduces both sound and chance of leaving tracks behind. Current chance of success: 0% Forewarning: System Assist should be used on skills before attempting any form of combat as it will be disabled during any kind of engagement. Chance of success hinges on skill level. Do you wish to join the Cazate Clan? Yes | No [Yes.] Your race and clan have been configured. The environment once more gave way to the pedestal room. Her hand was released from the third pedestal and the path to the fourth one was lit. Used to the sequence of events she followed the blue light which was quite clearly drawing a seven pointed star on the floor of the darkened room with each pedestal being at a point. Placing her hand on the fourth pedestal, she was given the chance to choose her appearance. The standard Cazate Halfling appeared before her like a life-size mannequin, rotating in mid-air. Before anything else she reduced its height as much as she could within the recommended 20% margin. She then quickly chose the female race but then went on to make it as gender neutral and inconspicuous as possible. Especially trying to avoid any defining features like a noticeably big nose or mouth. After unwillingly using herself as a model for a couple of minutes, she switched gears and tried to recall the most unremarkable, innocent and unthreatening person she had met. An image of the silent man that had shared her cell for three days flashed into her mind. She could barely remember what he looked like but followed her mental image of him in building her character. The boobs were almost entirely removed. Depending on the clothes she would be able to pass for either a very young woman or a child. With the large Halfling eyes, the innocent look came easily with slightly pouty lips, but not enough to call attention to themselves. The face was slightly rounded and framed by flat black hair. Part of her wanted to give it the more common brown hair, but she figured black would be better for fitting into the night. It¡¯s frame was slight and by the end of her alterations there wasn¡¯t a single remarkable thing about it other than the big Halfling eyes. This would have to do though. The eyes would add the bonus effect of innocence and would probably just be remembered as a Halfling trait. If attention was only called to that one trait, when asked, people wouldn¡¯t be able to remember anything else about her. Misdirection. A trick often used in magic and often commented on in her business classes. There were so many uses, especially in marketing and negotiations, but those would have to wait. Her character was complete. 679 Credits are at your disposal. Chris watched as the window that popped up multiplied into more screens by breaking up and splitting off, expanding in size until it was as big as the original screen. They flipped around to reveal different sets and pieces of clothing, armour and weapons. Each had a credit value assigned at the bottom. It was time to go shopping. Surprised that the forums had said the trial was a waste of time, Chris greedily began perusing the available items. Remembering all too well how her weaponless attacks had been in the arena, she searched for a weapon first. Taking out her weapon affinities chart, she looked up which weapons the game had graded her best in. On the bell-curve of average human performance she had done quite miserably in all weapons. The only weapon she had managed to even reach the performance average in was the dagger. She had also done surprisingly well, compared to the other weapons, with an axe. Chris momentarily considered getting a sword , knowing that it dealt more damage and had a longer reach. However, after searching for weapons she quickly realized that she couldn¡¯t afford any, not if she wanted to buy some armour as well. The only dagger she could afford cost 650 credits, had a broken hilt and a massive crack in the middle. It looked like it was about to fall apart. In the end, remembering her 10% lesser bone density she chose to go with the armour. She already had quite a weak race, further weakened by her clan choice. She ended up choosing a basic gladiator skirt for 290 credits, a tight leather vest for 330 credits and one basic leather bracer for 50 credits. She used it on her left arm as she did not have enough money to buy a second. Unable to do anything with the remaining 9 credits, she returned to the pedestal room and walked to the fifth pedestal. It was time for her to choose her education tree. It was a choice that would dictate the way she should live and act in Nova Era. The list of trees was quite comprehensive and the more popular ones were the battle tree, the intelligence tree, the love tree and the friendship tree. After choosing one you would gain a seed you would have to consume. The tree was supposed to grow within you with every act you took that supported that tree. In the fourteen months of the game no one¡¯s tree had fully matured yet and, although there were many theories, no one seemed to know what would happen after it did. All anyone knew was that with each new branch, a player was given the power to take on more manic creatures. Chris stood again in the blank room, only this time it wasn¡¯t so empty. She was surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of cases with different types of education tree seeds in them. Each one had hovering letters above it, labeling the kind of seed it was. It was a labyrinth of display cases that went on forever. The seeds all varied in colour, texture, size and even smell. Ignoring these Chris continued to look around, looking for something that would fit how she wanted to play the game. Something that she wouldn¡¯t have to go out of her way to achieve. Something that should come naturally. She already had a lot on her plate, she didn¡¯t need a tree that would veer her from her path. It was definitely not going to be swimming. Nor horseback riding. ¡®Sleep? ¡­ Really people?¡¯ The cases stretched on and Chris thought she was going to have to settle for the negotiation tree when she finally found one that called to her. Manipulation. It was a shiny, oily black that felt slick to the touch. There was a tiny red dot on it that looked like a festering blister, it looked repulsive. She didn¡¯t care. She swallowed the wretched thing, vowed never to think about the taste she had just experienced, and was transported back to the pedestal room with a smile plastered across her face. Two pedestals to go and she knew that she would choose Durrenheim as her starting location in the next one. The final one she wasn¡¯t quite so sure about yet. However, the budding feeling of the seed she had just swallowed was giving her an idea of just what kind of gatekeeper she wanted. Chapter 13: Affiliated The last pedestal stood before her. She¡¯d just finished choosing her starting location on the vast map of Nova Era. Its size was disconcerting, even though it only showed the discovered seventeen percent of the territory. The developers claimed that the world size of the first stage was three times as big as the real world, which got people wondering what the second stage would look like and how big that would be. Fortunately that was a question for later perusal. Chris laid her hand on the last pedestal and the fully drawn seven-point star on the ground started pulsing with brighter and brighter light. Between pulses, the ground gave way beneath her sucking her down into it. The darkened pedestal room gave way to complete darkness which then gave way to a musty study. The room was long and narrow with bookshelves lining both side walls. The only windows were framing a fireplace behind a desk. Behind it was a short barrel of a man. He didn¡¯t bother to look up, too preoccupied with the neatly ordered stacks of paper on his desk. His flabby hands were a swirl of motion that handled one piece of paper after the next in surprising efficiency. There was a thick layer of dust everywhere, from the walls to the carpeted floor to even the windows behind the man. The only exceptions were his immaculate table and the trail created by countless feet that led from the point of origin to where she was standing. It seemed she was not the first player to visit this man. A part of her mind wondered about how the game handled thousands of people logging in for the first time simultaneously. While she was wondering about the parallel stacking of digital universes, her nose couldn¡¯t take it anymore and she sneezed into the man¡¯s orderly stacks. She felt bad for disrupting his order of things, but the room was so damn dusty she couldn¡¯t help it and this way, at least she got his attention. Rubbing her nose Chris looked down to see the man glaring at her through his tiny, round, wire rimmed glasses. He had the smallest eyes she had ever seen on a person, but that might of just been the contrast to the roundness of his large face. It was puffy like a pancake, hiding any hint of a bone structure or any other solid body parts usually associated with humans. Every part of him seemed to jiggle, even when he wasn¡¯t moving. Instead of hair, a triple chin framed his face all the way to his ears, above which there was only a tuft of hair on each side. Unfortunately he chose to grow those out, trying to hide the baldness of the remainder of his head. The few strands of hair hid nothing other than, maybe, his dignity. As soon as her airways cleared, Chris noticed a vile sweaty body odour coming from the man. Instinctively, she took a step back, cringing in disgust. She¡¯d tried to keep an open mind but she was already repulsed with this greaseball of a man with oily skin and ridiculously tight, and ill-fitting, clothes. ¡°Well?¡± He asked in a gruff voice. ¡°Ah¡­ Sorry. What?¡± The puss green eyes rolled in annoyance before he said. ¡°I said, what is your name? I need to know it for the purposes of the contract.¡± He pointed at a scroll in front of him. ¡°Chr¡­ Wait. You mean my real name? Or the name I want to use in...?¡± She stopped short of answering, unsure of whether she was supposed to role play as part of the game already or not. ¡°Do I look like I care?¡± He said, rolling his eyes once more. ¡°I¡­ Ah¡­¡± Somehow she hadn¡¯t taken the time to think about what name she wanted to use at all. ¡°Aya.¡± The man said as he scribbled something on the scroll. Chris cracked a smile. ¡®Well there¡¯s one problem taken care of.¡¯ ¡°Alright Aya¡­¡± The man said mockingly as if he was trying to annoy her with his purposeful misunderstanding. Chris wiped the expressions from her face and stood there, pretending to be oblivious to the misunderstanding all the while holding a huge grin in her mind. ¡®Why does it feel so good to annoy a computer program?¡¯ She wondered in semi-praise of the game as the infuriating man continued. ¡°Before I can let you decide if you are willing to embark on this massive undertaking of saving Era, I am legally bound to ensure you know exactly what you are getting to.¡± ¡®I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s not the only or even more¡­ restricting bondage you have going on.¡¯ She added mentally after catching sight of the vest the man was wearing. It was so tight, he looked like a sausage squeezed into a corset. ¡°Now, this is just a precaution.¡± He continued, oblivious to her mental mockery of him. ¡°I actually can¡¯t remember the last time I had to actually explain the conflict to any of you, outworlders,but I still have to ask; Are you aware of the Corruption and how it must be stopped?¡± She could tell from his bored monotone, that he didn¡¯t expect he would have to explain anything to her, which made sense. Most ¡®outworlders¡¯ - or players from the real world - would already know everything there was to know about Nova Era before ever stepping foot into the game. She was the exception that hadn¡¯t followed any news bulletin there was about the game for the last three years. So, although it meant she was going to have to spend more time with the vile creature in front of her, she said. ¡°I would¡­ actually¡­ like that guide, I mean.¡± Although his face almost looked surprised for a split second, that expression was quickly replaced by a tightening of the lips as he got up without a word. Extricating himself from his desk and chair was an obviously painful ordeal for the man. Chris, or Aya as she should probably start calling herself, almost felt bad for him. It couldn¡¯t have been easy to use those tiny legs to prop up that elefantine girth. A trapped, ripening pocket of sweaty odour was released by his movement. Chris cringed, trying not to gag. Her sympathy for the man was replaced by sympathy for herself in less than an instant. She tried to keep her expression neutral so as not to offend him, she wasn¡¯t quite sure how important the man was but she wasn¡¯t about to risk pissing him off. She¡¯d already seen that the artificial intelligence of the game was more than capable of displaying human emotions. Not that she was actively thinking about it. The pudgy man, who turned out to be only a little over a head taller than her, was just too realistic. He snapped his fingers and they were both suddenly back at the battlefield where she had died her death by arrows. People were still dying all around her, being overpowered by monsters. With a hand gesture the man brought out a ledger which he quickly scanned, looking up at the battlefield around him to confirm a thing or two, before discarding it again. ¡°As you can see, this is the Battle of the Golden Plains.¡± He said in a bored monotone. The man was just downright unpleasant Even his voice managed to be obnoxious. Aya felt like he was doing it on purpose, as if to spite her or something. She decided to ignore it. For now. ¡°I brought you here because it is where your immersion battle took place.¡± Aya looked around to find the location where she, and her brief-time comrades, had died. Looking back, she actually felt bad for behaving like such a coward. At the time it seemed logical, but now that she let herself think more emotionally and less critically about the situation, she wished she had made a stand with them against the horde. Even if she would have died uselessly. ¡°No. This is how the battle actually took place in our history.¡± He said, effectively excluding her from the picture and stripping what she had witnessed from importance. ¡°The commander Hawkins that you embodied, actually died in the front lines with his men.¡± He obviously knew exactly what had happened and was now backhandedly berating her for it. Although she did feel a ashamed of her actions, she doubted the flabby pudgeball would have behaved any differently, but bit her tongue to hold it. In real life she was used to being in far greater control of her emotions. The longer she spent in the game, the more she felt like she was slipping into her old ways. Thankfully, the hateful man, that was causing her emotional disturbance, decided to continue his narration of the battle as it should have gone. ¡°When they were ambushed by a horde of Corrupted from behind, they were all killed. He¡¯s not the reason I brought you here though.¡± ¡®No, I¡¯m sure he wasn¡¯t. You just wanted to rub my cowardice in my face. Appreciate that.¡¯ Nodding mechanically, so as not to actually say anything she would regret, she stared ahead. The same hole in the ground appeared out of nowhere, allowing dozens of monsters onto the battlefield unnoticed. It looked like a gate from hell had opened up, letting all of its demons walk the earth. ¡°That, on the other hand¡­.¡± he gestured toward the still widening hole. ¡°... is.¡± His face took a downcast air of loss and sorrow. As if he had lost many people in his life to creatures that spewed out of the earth just like that. ¡®And just like that¡­ I¡¯m back to feeling sorry for him.¡¯ She sighed. ¡®Gosh, I¡¯m such a sucker.¡¯ ¡°What exactly is it?¡± Aya asked, both curious and unable to stop years of honed motherly instinct from reaching out to a visibly wounded soul. It did the trick, immediately snapping him out of his reverie. ¡°That right there is a Septimus Gate, a seventh-tier gate. It is the most basic gate to the Forgotten Realm that exists. There are thousands of them spread all over the world. But there are other tiers and they exponentially increase in power. Seven tiers total. The lower the tier, the harder it is to close but also the more uncommon. Each sixth-tier gate for example, requires that seven seventh-tier gates be closed first. And each fifth-tier gate requires that seven sixth-tier gates be closed¡­ and so on.¡± A flash of annoyance crossed his eyes. ¡°The Primus gate, the only of its kind, only flooded open after one of our comrades allowed himself to be corrupted. We are gatekeepers! It is our duty to keep the world safe¡­ the gates closed¡­¡± He swiveled to glare at her, as if challenging her for an accusation. She chose to remain silent. ¡®He is obviously unstable.¡¯ ¡°Well¡­¡± He continued. ¡°Soon after that, we lost control of the Primus Gate, the first tier gate. It is the only of its kind and it is connected to every single gate out there. Just like that, tier by tier, they came crashing open. All the way to the top tier¡­¡± He gestured sadly at the gate below them. ¡°There was nothing we could do. People no longer believed in us¡­ not after over seven hundred years of peace. Seven hundred years of not needing us to keep the gates locked, not when the contract kept it secured. But¡­ that contract became void the second Dayus, our comrade, fell. Without all of the gatekeepers, the terms no longer held¡­¡± His irritation was barely contained as he continued. Aya was no longer sure where the aggravation was aimed at. This comrade of his or himself.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°All we could do was watch as Era succumbed to the pest unleashed upon them by the gates. No one was prepared for it. They didn¡¯t know how to deal with the Corrupted monsters anymore. No one remembered how their ancestors fought with us, side by side, for generations, pushing them back to where they belonged and locking them up for good¡­ or so we thought.¡± Breathing heavily, he stopped and tried to compose himself, pulling on his tight vest that bulged with his rolls of fat. The movement brought Aya¡¯s attention back to his body. She couldn¡¯t fathom how such a disgusting man that infuriated her one second could inspire such pity and compassion the next. ¡°Anyhow, It turns out Dayus wasn¡¯t strong enough to withstand Corruption himself. And without a united front, we were unable to rally our own believers for the fight once more. The gates were blasted open, letting in more and more Corrupted Beings. The more gates that were opened, the less anyone believed in the gatekeepers and our capabilities. I guess it makes sense, what is a Gatekeeper that can¡¯t manage a gate right?¡± It was a rhetorical question. ¡°Anyway, as the world was massacred and the gates defeated tier by tier, all the way down to the seventh. We fought countless battles¡­¡± He waved his hand, changing the view before them between various battles in which the Corrupted annihilated armies of Nova Era¡¯s people without a pause. ¡°And lost them all. Finally, the remaining forty eight Gatekeepers got together and used the last inkling of our power to contact another world¡­¡± He motioned at her. ¡°That was your world. Thankfully¡­¡± She could tell it pained him to say that. To have to rely on outside help to solve their own problem. ¡°Outworlders like you have agreed to help us combat the Corruption. We¡­ wouldn¡¯t stand a chance without you. Not with our own population so depleted.¡± The man was tugging at her strings of sympathy before he let out a loud roaring belch almost knocking her over with its stench. ¡°Sorry ¡®bout that.¡± By the self-satisfied look on his face, she could tell that he wasn¡¯t. ¡°So, our fate rests in your hands. We hope you will be willing to embark in this dangerous journey that will probably bring you countless, painful deaths in our world.¡± The moment he finished telling her Nova Era¡¯s history and tried to recruit her, his words started to sound like an infomercial, minus the excitement. ¡°Do not worry, your fate here is not tied to your other self and, as long as you have faith and a contract, you can be brought back to life as many times as you need.¡± He almost sounded disappointed about that. ¡°So, the question is: Are you willing to help us lock down all the gates? Through all of the tiers? To banish the Corrupted once and for all?¡± ¡°I am.¡± ¡°Perfect.¡± He said about as excited as a rock. ¡°Now you only need to choose your Gatekeeper.¡± ¡°What are my options?¡± ¡°Any of the remaining forty-eight. Here.¡± He waved his hand around and they found themselves in a large circular room with long banners hanging on the wall. Some had really intricately stitched designs on them. It made the images of lovers, philosophers or beasts on them look like they were alive. The colours were so vibrant it was astounding. She wished that cloth in the real world could have colours like that. Other banners though, looked almost bland in comparison, with none of the designs. They almost looked incomplete, as if the stitches were missing. ¡°Each of these banners represents one of the gatekeepers.¡± He snapped his fingers and lifesize statues appeared underneath each banner. Each statue had glowing letters floating above it with the name of the Gatekeeper it embodied. Chris looked around, mesmerized by the banners until her eyes landed on an oddly familiar statue. Walking toward it, she heard the man grunt. Confused, she had to look at it again before realization finally slammed into her. ¡°Is this... you?¡± ¡°Yea, it¡¯s me.¡± He said, rolling his eyes in annoyance of her disbelief. She couldn¡¯t help looking between them a couple times, noticing the difference between the two. The statue showed a regular Adonis; A face you would cry for, a jaw you could cut cheese with and abs to kill for. ¡°Yea. Yea. Well. That¡¯s what happens when all these other bastards give me all the paperwork. Used to be we all had to take turns with guiding the Outworlders, but recently it¡¯s just been me.¡± The man shook his head in annoyance before belching loudly one more time. It was hard to feel sorry for the obnoxious man, but there she was again. ¡°Why?¡± She asked sympathetically. He rolled his eyes. Chris¡¯s muscles bunched up with pent up tension, wanting to punch the guy. Here she was, trying to be nice, and all he did was throw it back in her face. Taking her from fury one second, to compassion the next and then right back to fury again. He was really starting to piss her off. She would be glad to be rid of him after this was all over. ¡°Because I have the least amounts of contracts. You see those?¡± He gestured to some of the more intricate banners. ¡°Those are the Gatekeepers of Lust, War and Intellect. You see how many Contracts they have?¡± Uncertainty clouded her face which brought on yet another eyeroll. ¡°The stitches. We each get a stitch to symbolize a contract with an Outworlder. They get about eight out of ten Outworlders to sign with them. Me?¡± He scoffed, crossing his arms. ¡°I get one in ten thousand if I am lucky.¡± She would of felt sorry for him again if not for his attitude. ¡°So, which gatekeeper will it be for you?¡± He asked with contempt. ¡®Definitely not you, that¡¯s for sure.¡¯ She thought, but out loud she said. ¡°I don¡¯t know yet. Is there like a list of Gatekeepers and their¡­ specializations?¡± She had read somewhere that faith points were important and that you got them when you did things to ¡®please¡¯ your gatekeeper, which you did when acting in line with their specializations. Aya didn¡¯t quite understand it, but she figured she¡¯d choose something that came easily to her so as to make gathering faith points easier on herself. Bored eyes drilled into her as he off-handedly snapped his fingers making a scroll fall into her hands. The night before she hadn¡¯t had the time to look for a list so she took her time going through it. At first she didn¡¯t see any that would fit her, at least not exactly. Leaning toward the Gatekeeper of Intellect, the Gatekeeper of Art or the Gatekeeper of Leadership, she almost overlooked the Gatekeeper of Commerce. She immediately chose that one since it would go perfectly with the initial plan she had come up with to succeed in the game. She did have a business degree after all, she might as well put it to use. ¡®Okay, technically I didn¡¯t graduate¡­ but¡­ who¡¯s going to check my transcript?¡¯ ¡°Can I switch Gatekeepers at some point?¡± She asked, suddenly thinking she might not want to pursue the business side of things forever. ¡°Yes, if you petition and have enough faith points accumulated.¡± ¡°Faith points?¡± She immediately asked, milking him for knowledge. He gave another infuriating eyeroll. ¡®Isn¡¯t this your job? To guide people since no one wants you? Do that again and I¡¯ll rip your eyeballs out¡­ Wow. Okay, too far. Chill out Chris. You¡¯ll be out of here in a second.¡¯ ¡°It¡¯s what powers any of the Gate contracts.¡± He finally answered, oblivious to her mental threats. ¡°Without them the Gates won¡¯t hold. You are awarded with them by performing acts for the Gatekeeper you choose. So for Shirley¡­¡± He motioned at the bright blue banner that almost glowed with its golden stitched crest. ¡°...the Gatekeeper of Friendship, you just need to make a lot of friends to get points. For Vix¡­¡± He motioned to a vibrant crimson banner with a pitch black crest. ¡°...the Gatekeeper of Lust, you just need to get laid a lot. Et cetera. You only get faith points for the Gatekeeper you are affiliated with or the one you are petitioning for. You can only have one of each.¡± He crossed his arms, as if daring her to ask another stupid question. Apparently he was just as fed up with her as she was with him. ¡®Why, I do not know¡­ I only ever thought stuff in my head or¡­¡¯ She looked at him suspiciously. ¡°No.¡± He said with finality. ¡°It wasn¡¯t.¡± ¡°Huh.¡± She said. There was a moment of silence as she awkwardly wondered if she should apologize. She decided not to and instead just redirected. ¡°Alright. So, basically, we sign some sort of contract with one of the Gatekeepers then we go around finding gates? How do you find a gate exactly?¡± ¡°Gates let the Corrupted into Era. Where there are Corries there will be gates.¡± ¡°Alright then I close it with¡­ a contract with a Gatekeeper? ¡°Yes. You need faith for a contract. A contract and seven energy sources.¡± As Chris opened her mouth to ask he just barreled over her again and added. ¡°Energy sources are any living, non-corrupted beings. Just make sure that they have enough energy to last through the required time of the tier. They can be Otherworlders like you, people from my world or even manic creatures¡­. If you manage to attain any.¡± He added spitefully Chris decided to keep her mouth shut. ¡°Before you can open any higher tiered gate, you need to close a Primus gate. Well, actually, seven of them. A Primus is a first tier gate. A first tier gate requires it to be forcefully held closed with non-corrupted energy for seven days. The second requires fourteen days. The third for twenty one days and so on until the seventh tier, the Septimus Gate, which will require it to be held forcefully closed with uncorrupted energy for forty nine days.¡± She stared at him blankly as she processed the information. ¡°... Those are multiples of seven.¡± He said mockingly, as if her confusion stemmed from the numbers. She rolled her eyes. ¡°To secure a Secondus Gate you need to secure seven Primus Gates. To secure a Tertius Gate you need to secure seven Secondus Gates and so on. Eventually you will need to secure seven Sextus Gates to secure the Septimus Gate.¡± ¡®Which I¡¯m going to be required to supply with non-corrupted energy for forty nine days. Seems pretty easy¡­ not. How does anyone play this game as a single player?¡¯ ¡°Anything else I need to know? Like how to find all this non-corrupted energy maybe?¡± Chris asked. He rolled his eyes. ¡°No.¡± He said with finality that forbade interruption. ¡°Choose a Gatekeeper. Get a contract. Get bonded to your Chosen Era body. Close the Gates. Save us all. And if you¡¯re first you get to be our new forty-ninth Gatekeeper.¡± ¡°Wait, so¡­¡± The man snapped his fingers. ¡°No! No more questions. I¡¯ve put up with enough crap from you. Do you know how many Outworlders I still have to see today? You¡¯re not the only one, you know?¡± He said and Chris could swear she heard a muffled, ¡°Then you can finally be a thorn in someone else¡¯s ass.¡± They both rolled their eyes. ¡®Looks like I¡¯ll have to figure everything else out on the go. And forums, of course. Let¡¯s not forget forums.¡¯ ¡°Fine.¡± She said. ¡°I¡¯ll go with the Gatekeeper of Commerce.¡± He swiveled around to stare at her with surprise stamped across his jiggling features. ¡°Oh¡­ Okay then. Sign here.¡± He snapped his fingers and a scroll appeared before her with a quill. It reminded her of the first pedestal. She really did almost feel bad for him. Almost. If she already had two documents to deal with this far into the game, before she was actually in it, she couldn¡¯t begin to imagine how much he had to deal with. She read it over and signed it. It basically said she would be affiliated with Hathorne, the Gatekeeper of Commerce. Faith points would be given every time she performed an act of commerce that proved her faith in it. A moment later she felt herself shrink, she lifted her hands to watch as her skin darkened and felt it as her hair shortened on her head. She combed her hand through her cropped hair, noticing how it¡¯s texture had changed to become more coarse but at the same time much straighter. ¡°Ready?¡± He asked in what seemed a marginally less annoying tone. ¡®He must be just as happy to be rid of me as I am of him.¡¯ She thought, quite purposefully, only to herself. ¡°You bet.¡± She answered jovially. With another snap of his fingers, Chris, or Aya, was suddenly back in the pedestal room that was now glowing with the bright blue light of the now completed seven-point star. The pedestals, and thus the initiation, were finally taken care of. ¡°This is your first Gate contract.¡± He held up the scroll she had just signed. ¡°It will be different from any other in the sense that it will allow you, and only you, to travel from your world to ours any time you wish. However, beware that the gate can only hold itself stable for sixty hours every one hundred and twenty hours. I believe that is the equivalent to twelve hours in every twenty four hour period in your world.¡± She was already aware of the twelve hour gameplay maximum. ¡°... Right. So¡­ Am I ever going to meet my Gatekeeper? I thought that¡­¡± ¡°Oh! Of course! Where are my manners!?¡± He stretched out his greasy hand that was so covered with black hair it reminded Aya of a repulsive tarantula. Seeing his sudden buoyant expression she couldn¡¯t help but return the handshake, but immediately pulled her hand back wiping her hand on the gladiator skirt she had recently allocated credits to. It had automatically dressed her the moment she signed the contract. She already regretted the choice, wishing she¡¯d chosen something made of anything other than leather to absorb the slimy sweat that had drizzled off his hand onto hers. ¡°My name is Hathorne, I am the Gatekeeper of Commerce.¡± Aya¡¯s jaw dropped in shock. Hathorne continued his very late introduction in happy oblivion. ¡°I am honored to have been chosen by you. I shall await your summons when you are ready to secure your first gate.¡± Before her tongue could be located to be reaquainted with speech, she was suddenly speeding through space in a large seven-pointed lance of blue light. Apparently a gate between worlds. Apparently her first gate with her lovely gatekeeper¡­ Hathorne. When her feet landed on a solid surface, her senses couldn¡¯t even process her surroundings. She was too preoccupied with whom she¡¯d just signed herself to. Bad choices were beginning to look like a pattern. Bad signed choices. ¡°Ugh. Who¡¯s going to be a thorn in whose ass now? Literally!¡± Were the first words purposefully voiced aloud by the shortest Halfling Era had ever seen. Chapter 14: Targeting A/N: Guess who is back bitches!!! ... ok. totally unprofessional. sorry. *clears throat* please read. comment and suggest. etc. you know the drill. ¡°I am not a thorn and I am not too interested in your ass, so it probably won¡¯t be me.¡± Said a flat voice with no inflection. Aya swiveled around to locate it, catching glimpses of dilapidated houses with brittle cracks in the roofs and faded curtains in dusty windows. The sun was glaring down painfully on her skin and she had to shield her eyes from the light reflected on the cobblestones covering Durrenheim¡¯s townsquare. It was where she had chosen to start, precisely because it had unexplained problems - like that of abandoned neglect - but seeing it first hand was quite disheartening. The pictures she had seen of the game had been a lot more¡­ fantastical. Not quite so¡­ medieval. As she finished her quick assessment, she came face to face with a scrawny chest covered in rusty iron chainmail. Shielding her eyes more closely she lifted her head up to see a face she hadn¡¯t at all expected to see in a game. It was narrow at the chin, hollow at the cheeks and wide at the cheekbones. The acne that covered the boy¡¯s whole face, gave away his young age where his eyes wouldn¡¯t. His forehead was wide and long and his dark brown hair was held back with the pure power of greasy uncleanliness. She didn¡¯t understand why someone who looked like that in real life, wouldn¡¯t choose to change their appearance inside the game. She thought, for sure, his gamer-type would choose some herculean avatar to get girls that would never give him the time of day in the real world. She was dead wrong, apparently, because he looked utterly unlikeable. Meeting unpleasant people seemed to be a growing trend for her. The boy was looking at her expectantly. Thinking he wanted her to say something she said. ¡°... Sorry?¡± ¡°For what? You haven¡¯t done anything yet.¡± He said completely matter of factly. ¡°All you have done, from my perspective, is pop up in front of me.¡± Although his mouth moved, the rest of his face remained utterly stoic as he spoke. ¡°Which is, of course, not something you have to be sorry for. It is the game that transports you in the city square. In fact, it is expected of you. I have been waiting here because I know this is where beginners pop up.¡± Unsure of what the kid wanted, standing there and citing strangely worded facts. She tried catching her bearings instead of wasting time trying to understand him. The movement of other players around the square continued as usual. The cacophony of sounds was a mixture of players shouting, announcing their quests, pitching for the open positions on their teams, business transactions with the artificially intelligent NPCs and a particularly loud exchange between a couple of guards and a player. Aya felt like she was in the eye of a hurricane and, in this particular situation, she very much wanted to face the winds and get out of there. The boy was just plain creepy. It was time she finally started what she was there to do: Play the game. ¡°Alright. Well¡­¡± Aya began, trying to ditch the kid. ¡°Do you need anything? Because I have to go see that¡­¡± She looked around, looking for an excuse. ¡°...merchant over there.¡± She motioned to a heavy-set woman selling wares out of a cart. The woman was glowing in strong blue light, her name floating visibly above her head, [Curiana]. All of the non-player characters had a blue [NPC] label over their head. The remainder of the characters, she assumed, were players like her since they didn¡¯t have any labels at all. ¡°Yes.¡± He said with finality. For a moment she was confused, having no idea what he meant. She had already moved on mentally, crossing him off on her to-do list. She only remembered she had asked him if he needed anything when he added, ¡°I need a teammate for a quest.¡± ¡°A quest?¡± She asked wanting to leave. She had nothing to gain from a kid on her mission but at the same time she was curious. Completing quests was part of the game. It could help give her the ranking she needed by the end of the five game weeks. ¡°...Why?¡± Even if he was a kid, he wasn¡¯t a beginner. His gear looked nothing like hers. Why would he want to enlist a noob. She couldn¡¯t help being suspicious. People didn¡¯t just hand things out for free. ¡®Or maybe that¡¯s just my prison attitude coming to life¡­¡¯ ¡°Yes.¡± He said and then paused, making her realize he was answering her questions in chronological order. ¡°Because quests give rewards and I want this particular reward. Especially since it is a unique chain quest.¡± Although he voiced his replies, Aya could practically see bullet points as he spoke, addressing each aspect of her part in the conversation. ¡°Yeah, I know that. But why me... specifically? You don¡¯t even know me.¡± ¡°How could I know what you know? That is a rhetorical question, no need to answer.¡± He said it with his usual matter of factness but Aya could see a footnote being added that said something along the lines of [You are stupid. That is obvious.] ¡°I don¡¯t care if it is you specifically. I just need a body. It could be anyone.¡± She didn¡¯t like him. ¡°And it is true, I have not met you yet. It is a pleasure.¡± His laconic tone suggested otherwise. ¡°My name is Donovan.¡± ¡°Ch-... I mean, Aya.¡± She said with growing impatience with his blunt and rude tone. Maybe it was because she¡¯d gotten so used to kids in the real world giving her deferential treatment; Like an adult. Being treated like a kid, by a kid, was just getting on her, already Hathorne frayed, nerves. ¡°So why don¡¯t you go with one of your friends or your... guild members or something?¡± She said in an appeasing tone, using the kid treatment right back at him. ¡®Yes, I am exceptionally mature.¡¯ She didn¡¯t allow her annoyance to cloud her analysis of the kid. His gear was a lot nicer than the vast majority of the other beginner players in the area. Although Durrenheim wasn¡¯t limited to low level areas, with quite a few mid-level and high-level areas in the vicinity, it didn¡¯t make sense for a leveled player to team up with a zero level player he had never met before. She was growing more and more suspicious by the second. ¡°I have no friends. I was kicked out of my guild yesterday.¡± He said with the usual lack of inflection. ¡°...¡± At this point she just wanted to end the conversation. His voice was beginning to grate at her like a stick of new chalk on a blackboard. The bored stoicness of his tone was seeped in smug superiority and she didn¡¯t want to go through the battle of pity vs. annoyance all over again. Plus. She didn¡¯t think she could trust him. And. She already disliked him. Also. He was¡­ ugly to look at and¡­ Well, that¡¯s it. It might be superficial as hell, but she didn¡¯t need any more reasons than that. ¡°Well Donovan, I think I won¡¯t be able to help you. I just started this character and at level one, I really doubt I can be of help to someone of level¡­¡± ¡°Forty-six. I know you just started, in fact, I am pretty sure you have never played before. But that is alright, I will help you until you¡¯re strong enough to survive where we are going. As I have already said, I just need someone, doesn¡¯t matter who.¡± ¡°...¡± She was a little surprised he knew she had never played before and wondered what had given it away, but didn¡¯t want to admit it in order to get an answer. She just wanted to leave. Looking up at his bulgy eyes Aya somehow knew that the guy wasn¡¯t going to take a hint. Not the nice way anyway. So she decided to be just as blunt as him. ¡°Okay, listen up Donovan. You¡¯re going to have to find someone else. I don¡¯t like you and I don¡¯t trust you. I don¡¯t see why someone of your level would even bother with someone of mine. There is the chance that you¡¯re just being nice and all, but more than likely you¡¯re trying to take advantage of me and I don¡¯t like that. Plus, this quest of yours¡­¡± She couldn¡¯t help adding out of curiosity. ¡°...if it really exists, how long is it?¡± ¡°The completion will take circa ten Era hours. But I will probably have to help you train for a day or two before that. Otherwise the mobs in the area will immediately kill you.¡± ¡°Okay, so minimum we will be teamed up for something like three days right?¡± ¡°That is correct.¡± ¡°Come on, tell me truthfully, you think we can get along for that long? I mean, we have nothing in common. Don¡¯t you see I¡¯m a prisoner in real life?¡± She pointed to the floating hologram of three Xs over her head. ¡°How old are you anyway? Shouldn¡¯t your mom have put a ban on your interaction with prison players or something?¡± ¡°I do not know, but it does not matter if we get along. Yes, I know the three Xs mean you are in max sec. I am thirteen. She shouldn¡¯t have and has not.¡± He looked her up and down. ¡°How old are you?¡± Aya looked down at herself. Her flat chest, small frame and twig-like body made her look even younger than the thirteen year old in front of her and he was rubbing it in her face. ¡°Okay¡­ bye.¡± She said annoyed and needing to end the conversation. The kid was harder to get rid of than a drunken pervert at a bar. ¡°Find someone else.¡± Swiveling her gladiator sandals on the cobbled ground, she immediately made her way to the merchant shining in blue light. The game obviously wanted her to notice Curiana. ¡®And not the annoying pest she¡¯d just wasted time on.¡¯ She hurried her pace. ¡®And here we go with attempt number two.¡¯ Focusing on the game once more, she thought the light was probably meant as a guide for new players like her to know where to start. There were probably better quests to start with than the one the AI hooked you up with, but she didn¡¯t have a notion of where to get any. With the obvious exception of one she chose not to think about ever again. So she decided Curiana would be as good a place to start as any other. Donovan was obviously not someone she wanted to be around for another second of her life. When she arrived, Curiana was already talking to another player. Aya recognized that she was also new by the beginner garb she was wearing. It was the same threadbare colourless tunic she had on. The only difference between them was that Aya had the additional items she had gained from the trial. The girl finished talking to the NPC, receiving what sounded like a pretty straight forward quest of killing a dozen minor corrupted beings right outside of the city gates. Aya took the time until the conversation to end, to look around some more, taking regrettable note of the fact that Donovan, the budding psychopath, was still watching her. When the redhead finally cleared out, Aya walked up to the heavy set merchant¡¯s cart, purposefully ignoring her unwanted follower. She sold what looked like, a little of everything from furs, to elixirs and trinkets she had never seen before, all the way to small weapons and jewelry. ¡°Ah! A new otherworlder. Welcome! Welcome!¡± She shouted waving her hands towards her invitingly. ¡°I thank you for undertaking the journey! We need the help! Our world thanks you!¡± She leaned in closer, conspiratorially. ¡°Even if some people¡­¡± She looked around, pointedly eyeing the villager NPCs of Durrenheim. ¡°Think too highly of themselves to admit it.¡± She jumped back, setting her mass of frizzy hair in motion as she did so, and continued in her exuberant tone. ¡°But that¡¯s neither here nor there! Let¡¯s see, the only reason you can be here is because you need a little help getting started eh? Well. I¡¯ve just sent another one to bring me some seedlings¡­¡± She reached her heavily fingered hand into a basket with black, glossy almond shaped seeds in it. ¡°I need them for crafting minor health potions you see.¡± Aya was quite sure she didn¡¯t but the woman barrelled on anyway. ¡°They¡¯re also useful as a minor uncorrupting agent, but I won¡¯t need that many more.¡± Curiana looked at the stands around her and scowled in frustration. ¡°It¡¯s a damn shame these dimwits don¡¯t realize what they¡¯re doing. Ugh. But it¡¯s okay. We¡¯re not going to let that ruin our day, are we?¡± She winked again. It was weird being treated like a child and Aya wondered if NPCs reacted to childish appearances like hers the same way humans did. ¡°I¡¯ll have a talk with them on your behalf before I leave, Dearie. Don¡¯t worry.¡± Curiana reached over to pat her head before continuing. ¡°Just make sure you bring me some pelts, it will go a long way in smoothing things over with Will¡­¡± She motioned to another merchant a couple of stalls down who had a stand full of furs, pelts and worked leather. ¡°He¡¯s a bit prickly on the outside, but he¡¯s actually more accepting than the rest of this thickheaded lot. They used to not be like this¡­ It must be the corruption. It¡¯s been getting a lot worse around these parts.¡± She looked up thoughtfully while brushing a bundle of tangly hair from her eyes. ¡°The gatekeepers will probably have to be notified soon, that Durrenheim is no longer a safe place to dump any new outworlders. I mean, don¡¯t get me wrong. I know you people are capable of incredible feats after you¡¯ve been here a while. But newlings like you¡­ die so quickly¡­¡± The burly woman smiled brightly when she saw another player approaching. This one was dressed in slightly more advanced gear meaning he had probably already been around for a while. Aya¡¯s suspicions were confirmed when Curiana shouted, ¡°Ellmer! Long time no see!¡± The woman had been nice to Aya the whole time but after hearing her address this new player, it was quite clear who the merchant preferred. When the player approached and completely disregarded Aya, she turned around to leave when the Curiana shouted after her. ¡°Take the West gate. The beasts there are tamer and be sure to come back in the next day or two. I don¡¯t know how exactly how much longer I will be in town! May the Gates keep you safe!¡± Aya didn¡¯t even need to worry about how to reply. The woman¡¯s attention was already completely devoted to the new arrival. As she made her way to the gate the woman had motioned to, Aya took time to take note of her surroundings. Unfortunately, they still included Donovan. Part of her wanted to spend a couple more minutes in town to investigate and maybe talk to some other NPCs, but her unwanted spectator and the constant press for time made her leave town right then. Aya spun around on her heels and made her way out of the town square. The houses had already looked dilapidated at the square, making these, even more untaken care of, at the outskirts look like they were about to fall to their knees. Feeling Donovan¡¯s eyes following her every move, Aya couldn¡¯t help but turn around to find the kid following her, not more than five or six steps behind. ¡°Could you¡­ give me some room? At least... pretend you¡¯re not a freak who follows someone you don¡¯t know?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°...¡± ¡®Wow. How can I be plainer. I almost felt bad for being so rude but¡­ Ugh.¡¯ Sighing, she turned her attention back at the cobbled road ahead of her and made her way out of town. She couldn¡¯t help but turn her head back to look at her new follower a couple of times. He wasn¡¯t giving her any space. It didn¡¯t matter if she went fast, slow or sideways, he was always the same exact distance behind her, looking as unperturbed as if they were sitting in his grandmother¡¯s tea parlour. Giving up, she kept her eyes forward. Everything the unlikely duo passed on their way out of town looked old, dry, brittle and about to fall apart. The only exceptions were the town guards. There were six of them standing watch at the exit. A small part of Aya¡¯s mind was caught on the fact that they seemed quite overdressed and over-wealthy for a town that looked like it was in ruins, but most of it was too annoyed by her follower to be able to take real note of it. Aya had thought that the town itself had been dry and devoid of life but, when faced with the world outside of its walls, the town looked like a regular oasis. There was a harsh wind blowing the sandy dirt up into her eyes, making it very hard to see. All she could see were trees that were in desperate need of water. The leaves were turned in, as she had seen ferns do when they needed water. Her sister had never been very good at remembering to water them, so she knew exactly what those looked like. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Approaching the tree-line, she made a quick decision in which direction to head. Under other circumstances, she would have taken time to evaluate her surroundings to make an informed decision of where to go. Unfortunately she wasn¡¯t going to be able to do that today, at least not until she got rid of her unwanted sidekick. Aya almost tripped over the brittle bush with her first steps into the undergrowth. Her height was the only thing that prevented her from falling quite ungracefully to the ground. But since she was already so close to ground, she just had to reach her hand down to quickly correct her gait. There was no reason to make a spectacle of herself in front of the creep following her. Winding through the brushes, she was thinking more about getting away from the creepy kid than anything ahead of her. So much so that she didn¡¯t notice when she walked right up to a group of small furry creatures that made purring and growling noises completely unexpected of their size. The moment they spotted Aya these noises intensified tenfold and the creatures spread out quickly, evenly and systematically around her. Instinctively, Aya looked around for her trusty creep, thinking he might prove useful now that she was outnumbered by over ten to one. ¡®Of course¡­ that shouldn¡¯t even surprise me¡­ Why would he be around when I might actually have use for him.¡¯ The creatures were kind of cute to look at, like little fur balls. Aya wouldn¡¯t even have been worried about them had it not been for the notification she gained, alerting her to the fact she had been targeted by a group of Thorndillies. ¡®Thorn¡¯ did not sound cute and squishy and unthreatening. Not at all. When it dawned on her what it meant to be outnumbered like that, it was already too late to carve an escape. She was completely surrounded. Turning around slowly, she tried to catch her bearings on the situation. The growling was growing louder and the creatures were starting to tremble in seeming rage. Their colour was changing from a muted brown to a vibrant red. Aya noticed that, the one with the quickest change, was slightly smaller than the rest with slightly larger fangs. It was an almost undetectable difference, especially with their now rapidly moving bodies. The very cushy, unthreatening figures were no longer all sweetness and cotton balls. They seemed to have grown in size, though that might have been an optical illusion caused by their incessant vibration. They also suddenly sported little spiked balls that were attached to them through some kind of tail. Instead of vibrating sporadically and all over the place like their bodies, the tails joined in with their growling to make some kind of war chant, thumping quite heavily against the arid ground. She looked around, trying to find an escape route she had been too stunned to look for at first. She noticed that, while each creature was labeled as [Thorndilly], not all of them boasted the same level. Most were levels 3 or 4 but there were two that were level 1. Unfortunately, there was also one that she couldn''t even read the level on. Supposedly because the level gap between them was too high. It was the smallest of the group, the one she had taken note of earlier. Probably the leader of the pack. Unfortunately he was located right in between the two level ones. Any hope of using the weakest link of the chain to escape flying out the window. Aya was still stumped as to what she should do. Thankfully, while quite loud, everything had been going pretty smoothly until then. None of the creatures had attacked or even motioned toward her. That all changed in an instant though, everything happening at once. Instead of jumping at her, they threw out their tails, like guided missiles, catching her by surprise, finding her flesh in an instant. Sharp bursts of pain slammed into her as each tail found its target. The first one hit her on the arm. It felt like being pricked by a thick needle. Each consecutive lash adding to the pain until, eventually, she saw the leader¡¯s tail coming straight at her, shimmering slightly in red light as it morphed from its spiked ball shape into a sharp looking arrowhead, cutting her across the lower left ribs. Suddenly, fear seemed a pretty rational choice of emotions for the situation she had found herself in. The game was throwing her curveball after curveball. The moment she started seeing it as a game again, recovering from the last life-threatening shock, she would find herself in another one. Instead of fake lions, she was now encountering fuzzy cute creatures that hurt more than all get-out. After their first flurry of attacks, they regrouped around her in their original position. Her health had taken quite a large hit. She noticed a health bar in the top right of her field of vision. It was flashing orange as her health slowly recovered. She only had a little over a third of her health left. She wasn¡¯t going to survive another attack like that. The way she saw it, she had two options: Give up or go out with a bang that might somehow get her out of the situation. One of the lower levels chose that introspective moments of her to lash its tail out again, hitting her right in the neck. She knew exactly which choice she was going with. Without waiting a beat, Aya leaned down and grabbed a rock she had been eyeing. Using the momentum, she kept going until she reached the Thorndilly that had just attacked her. Swinging her arm she let the rock in her hand come crashing down onto the things furry head. Luckily it was a little less than half her size, and within easy reach. It¡¯s health immediately dropped by about a quarter. Inspired, Aya quickly repeated the motion with both hands. Bringing the rock down over and over, slowly chipping away at its health. She had one more hit to go to completely destroy the creature. Although she knew there were still a dozen more of the creatures to take care of, she couldn¡¯t help a feral grin from spreading across her face as she brought the rock down one last time. Only¡­ it didn¡¯t matter. The thing was already dead. For a split second she thought she had somehow managed to kill it, until she noticed Donovan standing a couple feet away, bloody sword in hand. Looking at the dead creature at her feet, her suspicions were quickly confirmed but she didn¡¯t have time to dwell on it as the little creatures encircled her once more and she felt sharp flashes of pain landing on her all over again. She tried to dodge some of the attacks, tried to see which ones would land first by watching the Thorndillies¡¯ attack vibrations, but she knew it was pointless. Her health was almost gone and what bothered her the most was that she wouldn¡¯t be able to confront the kid before she died. He had ruined her only chance of getting out of there alive. ¡®When I get my hands on his grubby little neck, I¡¯m gonn¡­¡¯ Yellow light suddenly enveloped her in comfortable warmth that was completely different from the blistering heat of seconds before. When she felt the stinging pain of some of her wounds diminish and then vanish completely, she noticed that her health bar was quickly being replenished. Confused, Aya quickly looked around for an explanation until her eyes landed on Donovan, who was moving his hands rapidly before him, as if forming some kind of sigil. Her budding suspicion was quickly confirmed when a glowing yellow symbol manifested itself in front him and then beamed itself in her direction, adding to the yellow glow that was already replenishing her health. Although she was confused about his interference, she didn¡¯t have time to dwell on it as the Thorndillies prepared for another attack. She was still clutching at the rock, so she immediately went after the other level one creature. Five quick smashes later she was about to finish it off, when Donovan once again took the kill. Unfortunately she didn¡¯t have time to direct a glare in his direction. She was under attack again. The next couple of rounds continued much in the same manner. She would go after the weakest Thorndilly she saw until almost killing it, before Donovan would take the kill. Sometimes she managed to dodge the incoming attacks, she was starting to detect a pattern. After each attack they had a cooldown time, unfortunately the cooldown time seemed to be less if the level was higher. Fortunately the group waited for the least of its members to coordinate an attack. Regrettably, she had targeted all level ones and twos before she realized it. After going after all level threes but one, she had seven opponents left. It was good finally being able to count them after what felt like forever. Donovan was still killing her targets at the last moment, but there was nothing she could do about it whilst being attacked from every side. Every now and then she tried to escape from them by running through right after a kill, but they were much faster than her. Before she knew it she would be surrounded again, with Donovan standing a couple feet back unperturbed by any of the creatures. ¡®Dumb creatures won¡¯t even go after their real murderer.¡¯ She was being a sore loser and she knew it, but she was tired of facing creature upon creature with nothing to show for it. The experience points in the game went to whoever got the kill and the kid never let it be her. At least he had the decency to heal her, never letting her health bar go completely empty, though she did wonder if he was going to let her die a couple times when he didn¡¯t immediately heal her with her bar in the red. When she started going after the level fours she encountered a problem. They didn¡¯t just lie there and take the hits after being dazed by the first one. Her blows weren¡¯t quite strong enough. This meant she was never able to completely finish the Thorndilly off before a new flurry of attacks. She had to start over about six times before she realized her approach was never going to work. There had to be something else she could do. The way she understood it, she gained quite a boost in stats with each level. Meaning she probably wouldn¡¯t of had a problem with the damn thing if Donovan hadn¡¯t stolen her experience points. Aya was annoyed, but she forced herself to calm down and assess the situation. Why was she letting the kid get to her so much? She usually wasn¡¯t that volatile. Something else was getting to her. Instead of mindlessly attacking an opponent in the next onslaught. She simply breathed, cleared her mind and watched. Part of her brain processed the attacks, watching their movements closely and dodging more of them than she ever had. There was a pattern, the moment before an attack they would stop vibrating for an instant. She took that opportunity to jump aside, so by the time the attacks reached her, she wasn¡¯t there anymore¡­ for a couple of them. After clearing her mind, everything seemed to slow down a little and she was able to see with the clarity she was used to. One that allowed her to analyze and evaluate. It wasn¡¯t the kid. He was just the straw that tipped the scale over. It was everything. The last couple of days, her lawyer, prison, Doris, the headache, Yaz, the gatekeeper, the pressure of needing to succeed and lastly, the kid. She had been dead wrong in thinking that she would be able to separate the two worlds. She might have a different body in this one, but she was still the same person. Time slowed down a little more for her as she entered her calm space. In the next wave of attacks, she only got hit three times as she dodged left and right. This she knew how to do. Analyze and process the information. And then compartmentalize. First things first. It was time she figured out how to kill these things more efficiently. Bashing a rock against their heads obviously wasn¡¯t doing enough damage. There had to be a better way. As her mind tried to process all she had learned so far, her body kept dodging the attacks. She still kept being hit by about half of them, they had begun anticipating her movements. What she really needed was a better weapon, but that wasn¡¯t an option. All she could see at her disposal were the blunt sticks and stones scattered on the ground around her. That meant she could only find a better way of using the stone. Throwing it didn¡¯t seem like a good idea, she had never been a good shot, but she tried anyway. Over the next couple of attacks, she tried throwing the rock at her target at various points in their cool down period. She missed some, grazed others and hit some but they were all pretty much ineffective. She gave up on the method of delivery and instead focused on the area targeted. So far she had been targeting the head, figuring they had the same weak spot as humans but maybe it was time she tried to find their figurative balls. It wasn¡¯t the top of their head, the side of their head or any part of their head. It wasn¡¯t the neck. The arm. The leg. She was running out of options until she realized the obvious. The tail. They had been swinging that thing around the whole time, it would make it the hardest place to target, she hadn¡¯t considered it before because they used it for attack. ¡®But maybe¡­¡¯ In the next attack, she gave her theory a chance. Instead of dodging the attacks like she had been, she stood still and instead try to catch one of the tails midair as it came for her. Unfortunately she timed it too early and got her tail whiplashed by the level four she had targeted. On her second attempt she was able to grab the tail. She had timed everything perfectly, waiting for the momentary pause in vibration and timing her own attack only an instant thereafter. But she was unprepared for the spiked surface of the tail and reflexively let go when they ripped and tore at her skin. The damage inflicted by the speed was too much, she would need to find a way to slow it down. Meanwhile, she was still getting battered and bruised by its comrades. Apparently they didn¡¯t care about her attempt to subdue them. However, the constant wounding and healing was becoming almost bearable as her senses were dulled by the constant pain on her body. Finally, on her third attempt she managed to grab it and keep hold of it. She placed her arm, the one protected by the bracer, right in the tail¡¯s path. The moment it impacted with the bracer, she had her opportunity when the spikes wouldn¡¯t be quite so lethal without their speed. When she grabbed it she was ready for the pain and at a standstill she didn¡¯t have to worry about the spiked tail tearing through her flesh. She quickly pulled it to under the heel of her right gladiator sandal, holding it in place long enough to smash at it with the rock. In two blows, the thorned tail shattered like glass. Being defenseless, the creature immediately skittered away, leaving Aya with one less opponent and a way to get out of the mess. In less than five minutes she had disposed of all but the highest leveled creature. But as soon as she dispatched its remaining level four comrade, it growled at her menacingly, lanced its tail at her once more. The attack was different than any of the previous ones had been. Instead of a sharp point, the creature morphed its tail into a ball that hit her square in the stomach. She immediately fell to the ground as her legs buckled below her. She couldn¡¯t move as it skittered away, leaving her bruised, battered, exhausted and alone with Donovan. Who apparently was done casting healing spells. ¡®Little shit¡­¡¯ She was thinking to herself as he casually walked over to her. Aya was on her knees, where she stayed, unable to move, until Donovan approached her and reached a hand down to help her. Surprised and finally able to move again, she took the hand. Maybe she had misjudged him because of her anger. Maybe it had all been misplaced on him. He was probably a nice kid, at the wrong place, at the wrong time. Starting to feel bad for how she had acted so poorly and rudely, she opened her mouth to apologize when he said in the most condescending tone she had heard from him yet. ¡°You really suck. I don¡¯t know where to start. You might be what they call a ¡®hopeless case¡¯.¡± Chapter 15: Grinding Aya assessed the kid and realized she had two options. She could either stick around, put up with his bullshit and find out what it was he wanted from her or she could go on her merry way. Unfortunately, that solitary merry way hadn¡¯t worked out very well thus far. She hated to say it, but the twerp had saved her hide a dozen times over. Then again, he had probably chased her into the situation in the first place and he had definitely not chosen the most effective rescue route, so she wasn¡¯t exactly sure how much gratitude should be allotted to him. If she stuck around though, she¡¯d have to deal with the kid. Donovan. She should probably stop judging him as a kid, seeing as he was obviously more experienced in the game than she was. His motivations were unclear; he could be using her, for all she knew, but for what? He was obviously a weird kid that did some weird things. He would save her one second and steal her kills the next. If she was going to stick around, they were going to need to straighten a few things out first. ¡°Alright kid. Listen up. If we¡¯re going to do this quest of yours together, we¡¯re going to have to straighten out a couple of things first. Got that?¡± He looked at her blandly and noncommittally. ¡°Respond! You¡¯re usually so good with answers.¡± ¡°Oh, I apologize. I was unaware that a response was required of me. I thought it was a rhetorical question. In that case, what exactly needs to be straightened?¡± ¡°...¡± Unsure if he was just goading her or not, she decided to be the bigger person. The adult. ¡°Okay, we are going to have to teach you how to speak to people without pissing them off. But you might be a ¡®hopeless case¡¯ so we¡¯ll tackle that one slowly. Instead, why don¡¯t you tell me why you did what you did back there?¡± ¡°Back where? We have been in this clearing for almost half an hour. You were very slow in your battle, I almost gave up on you but felt obliged to stay to the end.¡± ¡°Obliged¡­ Well thank goodness for that, huh?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Alright, since humor goes directly by you and you can only speak literally, why don¡¯t you tell me why you took all of my kills?¡± ¡°So that you would not gain experience points.¡± ¡°... Okay?¡± Getting answers from this kid was as hard as pulling teeth, and not the ones that were ready to come out either. ¡°Why did you not want me to gain them?¡± ¡°So that you would not level up.¡± ¡°... Why shouldn¡¯t I level up?¡± ¡°So you do not ruin your stat balance.¡± ¡°Stat balance?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°... I wasn¡¯t asking for confirmation. I was asking for clarification.¡± ¡°Oh. I apologize, I did not notice.¡± Aya couldn¡¯t help smiling a bit. The kid was incorrigible, infuriating and impossible to talk to but she was starting to understand him. Maybe she could learn to like him, after all. ¡°I thought for sure everyone would know about stats. Even noobs like you. It is quite naive and possibly even dumb to play this game without even knowing such basic fundamentals like stats.¡± Or maybe not. Chris crossed her arms, holding her patience to herself, and waited for Donovan to continue. ¡°Stats give you slight boosts in certain things like speed, strength, dexterity and so forth. The advantages are very slight at first, but when you reach higher levels, their effect is critical. Unfortunately, they are also quite hard to obtain - except when you level. At each level, you can get a certain number of stat points quite easily, but after that, the difficulty rises exponentially and you can barely receive any more.¡± He looked at her like a teacher looks at a student he is explaining quantum physics to. A very dumb student. She decided to ignore the look and nodded for him to continue. ¡°Open up your notifications. You should have gotten at least a few stat points so far. Even if your performance was less than exemplary, it is quite easy to attain stat points at first.¡± She looked around for what he was referring to, and just like he said, she found a blinking notification icon at the very edge of her field of vision. It would have gone by unnoticed had she not actively looked for it. As she opened it up, Donovan continued. ¡°So as you see, I could not let you level to level two before you had accumulated as many stat points as possible. You might not appreciate it now, but it is for your own good.¡± ¡°...¡± ¡®So is duct tape, but I don¡¯t think they have any of that here.¡¯ Aya rifled through the stat points she had received. A new stat has been created: Strength A new stat has been created: Speed A new stat has been created: Instinct A new stat has been created: Endurance ¡°All it says here is that stats have been created. Shouldn¡¯t there be like a¡­ an amount or something?¡± She was thinking back to her time in the arena. ¡°No.¡± ¡°But if you can¡¯t see when the stats are going up, how do you know you¡¯re still gaining any? Didn¡¯t you say the point was to level it or something?¡± ¡°Go to stat growth.¡± Aya quickly used the search function to find what he was talking about and to come across a bar that read: 22%. ¡°When it reaches 100%, you will no longer be able to receive any new stats until you level up. Most people like to stop at 90% since the last 10% are quite hard to acquire. I, however, believe that you should stat grind until at least 95% on every level. 99% if you are still in the single digits. My guideline is to take a percent off the requirement until you reach 95%: 98% while you are in the level 10-19 range, 97% for the 20-29 range, and so on.¡± ¡°You¡¯re¡­ quite particular about this aren¡¯t you?¡± It made sense now. Why he had taken her kills from her. The kid wasn¡¯t actually an ass, he just behaved like one. She felt bad for being so annoyed with him when all he was trying to do was help her. ¡°Yes. Now let us commence. There is a lot of work to be done. You are quite useless.¡± He turned around and started walking away. She followed him but added. ¡°You know. You¡¯ve already said that. You don¡¯t have to repeat yourself. And you don¡¯t have to be so¡­ rude.¡± He kept walking back the way they had come. Never looking her way, he replied, ¡°My intention was not be rude. I believe lying is rude. Humans often lie because they think are being polite. How can saying something I want to hear be better for me than something I need to hear? That was a rhetorical question. You do not need to answer.¡± She opened her mouth to explain, then she thought of Rin. The kid wasn¡¯t her responsibility, she didn¡¯t need to explain anything, all she needed was his temporary partnership. ¡°You don¡¯t need to announce rhetorical questions, I can sense them.¡± ¡°All right. In future, I will not. However, I wish for you to announce yours. You do not make very logical choices in regards to questions. Actually, you do not make very logical choices in general. It is confusing.¡± She ignored the comment. ¡°So what¡¯s first?¡± ¡°Stat grinding.¡± He looked at her with pity for her mental capacity. ¡°Obviously.¡± --- Aya felt like she had been at it for days; her virtual limbs as sore as her real ones had never been, but the clock on the side of her display said otherwise. It had only been seven hours. Added with the time of her initial setup, she had been in the game for a little over two real world hours. Time was both standing still and flying by, in the regard that Donovan¡¯s training was gruelingly mind-numbing and the seconds of her available game time were ticking by. Deciding to adopt her real world technique, she got rid of the clock altogether and decided to focus on the task at hand instead. She had already wondered more than once if killing - or almost-killing - beast after beast without gaining any experience was really the best use of her time. So far, there wasn¡¯t much to show for her effort. She was only at level two after hours of pointless battling. Donovan insisted she fight foes of higher levels than her, insisting that battles increased her chances of attaining status points and higher levels diminished her chances of landing a lucky hit that would level her up. Using a mace she¡¯d picked up from one of her previous fights, she fended off a dagger as it came straight at her. The rock goblin in front of her really wasn¡¯t happy, hissing foul-smelling spittle all over himself and sometimes her. Over the last hour, Donovan had made her fight every other goblin in the camp. It was clear with one exception, the leader. He was at level seven, two levels higher than any other goblin had been. Even the burly one she had inherited the mace from had only been at level five. Small things like the ability to see the creature¡¯s level, even when it was so much higher than her own, were the only visible proof that Donovan¡¯s training regime really was panning out. ¡°My b-brothhrr!!!¡± The goblin leader seethed, once more lunging manically toward her. Over a dozen battles she had learned that while fast, goblin attacks were uncoordinated and very sporadic. You could never know how accurate or how strong the strikes would be by looking, only by feeling. She dodged, quickly sidestepping as the goblin went for her. The moment his blade whizzed by her, she grabbed his arm, a move she had adapted from her Thorndilly confrontation, and disarmed him by twisting his arm. The dagger ricocheted against the ground, before skidding to a halt a couple feet away. She was momentarily caught off guard by her success; she rarely managed to pull it off so smoothly. The goblin took advantage of the moment to sink his teeth into her shoulder. Cringing, she let go of his arm and stepped away. The bite itself hadn¡¯t dealt much damage, but she had immediately been notified about an infected wound. It would slowly drain her health until she treated it or Donovan decided to step in. As usual, he just stood by as she did the fighting, unperturbed by any of the monsters. He was basically immune to any attacks because of his high level. Instead, he usually spent his time collecting items from the downed foes and occasionally healing her when she was about to die. Aya couldn¡¯t get over how strange Donovan was. He didn¡¯t have a poor person¡¯s attitude, a poor person¡¯s personality. Eccentricity like that was reserved for the rich. Aya knew too well that to be poor meant that you did what you had to in order to get by. That kid would never have gotten by in any school she knew of. Thus, she really didn¡¯t understand his obsession with loot. A lot of the items he picked up were worthless, like goblin ears and broken arrows, but he never left anything behind. When she asked him about it, he looked at her like she had asked him to abandon his baby. Then simply said, ¡°It¡¯s loot.¡± As if that was the most obvious reason in the world to carry around used loincloths. Yes, used loincloths. He was a hoarder, that was for sure. The goblin was circling her, trying to get her away from his dagger, but she wasn¡¯t budging. He was already going to be a hard opponent; having a weapon wouldn¡¯t make things any easier for her. She had to hold on to the only advantage she had. He circled her once more and the moment she saw him shift forwards for the blade, she kicked it while side-stepping his advance and clobbered him on the back of the head with mace. He went down like a sack of potatoes, creating a slight cloud of dust around him. Without giving him time to react, she clobbered him again and again. He tried to get up, but went right back down when she landed a critical hit on his head. She didn¡¯t get many of those, even after listening to Donovan¡¯s extensive lecture about them, so she was quite happy about it. But it didn¡¯t stop her from continuing her attack. She showed no mercy. Not even when he tried to roll away, revealing his face to her mace. She brought it down just the same, bloodying his nose with one hit. By the very audible crunch and the mangled shape it had taken, it was obviously broken. The smell of blood no longer fazed her and she lifted the mace once more, this time a little higher than the last, trying to get more momentum for her swing. Aya realized she shouldn¡¯t have done that the moment the goblin grabbed the mace on its way down, his hands directly next to hers on the shaft. She shouldn¡¯t have given him the time to compose himself. He jerked at the mace, trying to dislodge it from her hands, and screamed. ¡°Brothhhrrr. Brothhhr. M-my brothheeerrr! Miiiine.¡± He screeched nasally through a broken nose. The struggle continued as he tried to jerk it from her hands, and she tumbled to the ground, losing any chance she had at keeping the weapon. With the same leverage as him, she was drastically outpowered. She knew that. The reason Donovan had chosen the goblins as her opponents after the Rockyno horde had been so that she could raise her strength stat. The Halfling race gave her a disadvantage in strength. Donovan advised her to never focus too heavily on strength-based skills. At the same time, he insisted there was such a thing as a bare minimum to have in order to be effective. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. So there she was, trying working on her strength before she could go back to working on what would hopefully some day be her strengths, speed and instinct. Unfortunately, she was about to rely on speed again. Letting go of the mace, she quickly scrambled away toward the dagger, wishing she hadn¡¯t kicked it quite so far. Luckily she got a moment of reprieve when the goblin clutched the mace and jeered, ¡°Miine. Brothhrrr dead. Miiiine.¡± Fortunately, he cared more about his inheritance than he did about his life. Aya grabbed the dagger, rushed back to the goblin before he could properly equip himself and was about to slash at his exposed throat when the inevitable happened: the goblin¡¯s head slid smoothly off it¡¯s body. Donovan had taken the kill again. ¡°Oh come on!¡± she argued. ¡°I almost had him.¡± ¡°You still have quite a way to go before you can level up,¡± he stated simply, kneeling down to collect the leader¡¯s belongings, stripping him of everything. ¡°Plus. You did not ¡®have him¡¯¡±. Might I remind you that I had to heal you twice during that battle?¡± ¡°Yea, but he was a level seven! That¡¯s like, five levels above me. You need to give me some credit, kid.¡± He looked her up and down. ¡°I only give credit where it is deserved. That goblin had over half its health points left. Your strength was basically ineffective against its defense. I killed it because I did not want to wait around for another five minutes. Without the mace, you would be working the wrong stats. The moment you lost the mace, the battle became pointless.¡± Silenced, she simply knelt down and helped him collect the loot so they could head to the training ground he chose next. It turned out to be a dried-out lakebed. After another hour of fight after fight, Aya finally had 99% of the level two stats and Donovan took her to a clearing of low-level animals to level up. He left her to drop off his loot in Durrenheim, giving her the first chance she had to collect her own. Her own hoarding nature came to light as she dismantled all of the creatures she killed piece by piece, as she had seen Donovan do many times. She spoiled many of the pieces, piercing the hide with the dagger she had kept. It was the only piece of loot Donovan had given her, claiming she needed to work on her horrendous weapon handling. When she¡¯d commented on the uneven distribution of goods he had simply said it was decided by merit and not by equality. She decided he was either taking advantage of her somehow or he really was just trying to help her but didn¡¯t know how to behave socially. Aya chose to go with the second theory. He was just socially awkward, jumping at the chance to have a friend. These thoughts were all banished when, upon his return, he said, ¡°I had not expected to spend so much time training you. I realize now it was a waste of time, but I cannot walk away from something I have already started. I am a perfectionist. It pains me to see such incompetence.¡± Following that exchange of words, he showed her how to disassemble monsters for the most profitable loot. She decided to forgive and forget. He was helping her after all, even if he could be an ass about it. They trained for a couple hours longer, following the same pattern as before. Wound, heal, wound, heal, Donovan kill, Donovan loot. Aya felt certain at level three she had killed every beast in the region that could be found in the single digit levels. After disbanding a group of Drongels, a mixture of a monkey and porcupine that randomly fired its poisonous spikes at you with no warning, Donovan suddenly said. ¡°Alright. I must leave now. What is your current stat gain percentage?¡± Aya opened the window as she bent over, still wheezing from the fight. It didn¡¯t make sense to feel so physically depleted from a mental game, but there she was, like a chainsmoker at the top of a flight of stairs. ¡°Ninety four.¡± She managed. He looked pensively for a moment. ¡°You have two options. You can go level up to four if you wish. You know how to skin for good quality fur now, so you should receive a decent reward. Or, you can continue to work on your stats. It will be more difficult without me, and I advise you choose your opponents carefully. Too strong and they will kill you. Too weak and you will kill them without earning any new stats. I would avoid killing them whenever possible.¡± ¡°But¡­ if I don¡¯t kill them. They¡¯ll keep coming after me. Won¡¯t they?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± His literal understanding hadn¡¯t changed. ¡°Well¡­ So how do you¡­ advise that I not kill them?¡± ¡°You run.¡± ¡°...¡± Aya thought back back to some of the opponents she had fought. The ones Donovan had chosen to raise her speed stats. There was no way she could outrun a charging Rockyno. The only reason she had survived her first attempt was because of Donovan¡¯s healing. Aya was still considering this when he said, ¡°Alright. I must go eat. I shall be back in five Era hours. Hopefully you will have made some progress by then. I will message you when I return.¡± Without another word, he logged out. His avatar was enveloped by a blue tube of light before it flashed brightly and disappeared. Donovan, gone. For a moment, she was stumped, unsure of what to do. It made sense that he had a real life and other things to take care of, but she had been lost in the game for so long, she hadn¡¯t even considered the fact that he might leave her alone. Looking around, she worried if she even knew where she was. Perhaps it had not been the smartest move to depend on the kid quite so heavily. She was usually quite good with directions, if she could visualize them. Picking up an errant stick, she drew out the places she remembered. Durrenheim, where they had started out, the various grinding areas they had headed to, which pretty much made a zigzagging circle to the west of the town and finally, her current location. Satisfied she knew where she was, she decided to make a beeline back to town while increasing her stats. She picked off really low level monsters, which she came to realize was anything below the level five. The stat boost was really starting to add up, adding a few noticeable changes to her abilities, particularly her speed. After about an hour, she had gained the final points to give her the 99% attainment rate she was looking for. Aya then headed to the Rabidunny area Donovan had taken her to briefly. They hadn¡¯t stayed there long since the creatures were so low level and easy to kill, giving her little chance to gain stats. But they had the softest fur she had encountered in the game so far. She hoped Curiana and her vendor friend appreciated texture like real humans did. She rapidly dispatched two dozen of them and was grateful they did not give a lot of experience points. Even after killing so many of them, she had only reached about half of the experience points required for the next level. According to Donovan, quests gave a lot more experience points than beast kills. It was the reason he hadn¡¯t let her cash her quest in thus far. ¡®Well, that and his stinginess with the loot.¡¯ While she had been fighting battle after battle, the loot didn¡¯t seem to matter so much, since Donovan was with her the whole time. The loot seemed to be a communal good. Now that Donovan had left her, she didn¡¯t feel like that anymore. She kind of felt stripped, like someone had nicely asked for her clothes, and she had given them away. Now she was doing the naked walk of shame. As she skinned the Rabidunnies, she banished the thought. There she was, able to, if not professionally, at least proficiently skin a creature. That was thanks to him; it would have taken her a lot longer to figure out on her own. She was not a hunter at heart. A baker, a cook and a part-time mom? Yes. A knitter? Sometimes. Killing creatures for fun? Hadn¡¯t been on the list... until now. After proudly gathering her acquired loot, Aya realized she wasn¡¯t going to be able to carry it all back. She didn¡¯t have a bottomless bag like Donovan. Aggravated, she sorted the loot again. Keeping only as much as she could carry, she made her way back to Durrenheim. She hadn¡¯t spent much time worrying about other players until then, they had only encountered a couple the whole time they had been out there, but when she looked back to see some chick rifling through the pile she was forced to leave behind, Aya couldn¡¯t help but feel annoyed. First order of business was to find a bag. ¡®God. I sound like such a girl.¡¯ --- Aya wasn¡¯t surprised to find another player clearing a quest with Curiana when she arrived at the woman¡¯s cart. Exuberant as always she thanked the player before directing her attention Aya¡¯s way. ¡°Well, my, my. You¡¯re back! For a while there I thought I would never see you again. But then I thought to myself. Curiana, these Otherworlders can take care of themselves and if they can¡¯t¡­ Well¡­ You¡¯ll just keep coming back to life till you can won¡¯t you?¡± ¡®A rhetorical question.¡¯ Chris caught herself thinking. She couldn¡¯t help smiling while thinking of the kid. He was a pain in the ass, but he could be sort of cute. Sometimes, and really just sort of. ¡°Oh! I see that smile on your face! It¡¯s good to see you in such good spirits about it. Otherworlders sometimes get discouraged when they don¡¯t immediately succeed. Especially in recent times¡­ But let¡¯s not focus on that right now. Why don¡¯t you show me what you have there?¡± Curiana motioned to the stack of furs Aya was still carrying. ¡°I assume this is for me?¡± ¡°It is.¡± ¡°Perfect!¡± The woman exclaimed. After completing the quest, Curiana let her choose what trinket she wanted as a reward. The selection was limited, but Aya ended up finding something she liked, a notebook. They then headed over to the pelt stall and Aya was pleased to find out that the burly man did appreciate the soft quality of the fur after all. Introductions were made and Curiana went on her merry way, inviting Aya to return to her stall any time. There were many more quests to be had there if she wanted them. While talking to Will, the pelt merchant, she noticed he had a selection of bags for sale. They were completely out of her price range, but when Will saw how much she wanted one he offered her a deal. Her fur choice had gone a long way in winning the man over and she knew that without the added reputation points she had gained from that choice, he would never have offered her a quest. It went along the same lines that Curiana had given her, but instead of just any random pelt she had a particular variety to go after. Aya quickly made a note in her notebook about the pelts Will wanted. There probably was a way to make a virtual note, but it felt more real doing it by hand. Plus, she had plans for that notebook. She just hoped they worked out the way she intended. It had been a long time since she had relied on any of her artistic skills. After leaving Will¡¯s stand with the promise to come back with his request, Aya roamed the stalls, finally able to investigate the town some without her stalker. She didn¡¯t get through many though because suddenly, she received a notification. It popped up, quite prominently filling the upper third of her field of vision. Goldilocks Penitentiary System Message: You have 10 minutes to log out. If you do not do so within the allotted time, the system will forcefully do it for you. Meal Serving is due. She had totally forgotten about her real body, but as she thought about it, Aya really was hungry. She hadn¡¯t eaten anything since Donovan roasted one of the Meatigs he killed. Making a mental note to do something about food when she logged in again, she thought about the connection of her real body and her virtual one. She wondered if it was exhausted and hungry as well. It hadn¡¯t been killing beasts all morning, so probably not. ¡®Only one way to find out.¡¯ A circle of blue light enveloped her before flashing so brightly she instinctively closed her eyes. Aya logged out. --- As Chris came to her real body, she felt like she was waking up from a long dream. For an instant she wondered if she really had only imagined the last couple of days, but the moment was cut short as the capsule hissed and opened, letting in the solar lights of the capsule bay. Her senses felt off. Everything was¡­ less. After spending so much time in a smaller body, she almost felt tall. Climbing out of the capsule, her limbs dragged like spaghetti behind her. They didn¡¯t feel like her own. As she readjusted to her body, the capsule beside her hissed open. Yaz. Chris had completely forgotten about her. She was supposed to have figured out what to tell her. The girl was obviously going to expect a conversation at lunch. A conversation about gaming skills Chris obviously didn¡¯t possess. The last couple of hours had made that abundantly clear. And if they hadn¡¯t, Donovan had. She took a calming breath. It was time to face the music. Chapter 16: Commercing Chris watched apprehensively as the door to the capsule beside her opened. She felt her face heat up as her heartbeat drummed in her ears. Clenching her fists, she experienced a moment of fear-driven paralysis. A tall and skinny woman stepped out. She had her flat, brown hair in a ponytail and pushed the rim of her glasses quite forcefully up her nose. It wasn¡¯t Yaz. The woman caught Chris staring but simply looked away. She lifted her right hand and motioned another inmate to her. It was another woman Chris hadn¡¯t noticed before. She was of medium height and from across the room, the only thing that stood out about her was the perfect French braid running down the back of her head. It reminded Chris of the braids Rin had always asked of her before their parents died. Looking back, she only now realized how much their relationship had changed after the accident. Somehow she¡¯d chosen to ignore all the signs that pointed to a growing rift between them. The French Braid carried a tray to Glasses, she said something to her that made the harshness she had displayed vanish with a smile. It came so easily to her, Chris wondered if she had imagined the expression it replaced. A short exchange followed and Glasses took one of the stacked packages on the tray. She quickly unscrewed the lid off the rectangular plastic package, it looked like a sealed bag, the liquid filled it to a slightly conical shape that had a little nozzle with a lid on top. Taking her glasses off with one hand, Glasses tipped her head back and chugged the entire pink contents of the clear package. After screwing the lid back on and putting the empty package back on the tray, Glasses shook her head slightly like she was dispelling the unpleasant feeling of a cold shower. Shoving her glasses back on, she said something that made the French Braid laugh. Chris could hear the leftovers of her lilting laugh from across the room. French Braid then smiled and waved Glasses off playfully as she got back into the capsule. The doors closed behind her. Chris was still standing there, watching, when she felt a tap on her left shoulder. Turning around, she came face to face with French Braid herself. She had flawless creamy skin and bright, honeyed brown eyes. Up close, Chris could tell that a couple strands of hair had gotten loose from her braid and were swirling around her face. She clutched the tray to herself with one hand, while the other hung guiltily in the air between them. Rearranging herself so that she could use both arms to hold the tray she said, ¡°You must be one of the new ones. I¡¯m Sid, I¡¯d shake your hand, but mine is otherwise occupied.¡± She gestured her head at the tray. ¡°Ugh¡­ what is that?¡± Chris asked, making a face of disgust. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m Chris, by the way.¡± ¡°Ahhh. Little Barbie, right?¡± ¡°... I take it you know Tiny?¡± Sid laughed, ¡°Who doesn¡¯t?¡± ¡°Oh great¡­ does that mean everyone is going to call me Little Barbie from now on?¡± ¡°Depends.¡± She smiled knowingly. ¡°On what?¡± ¡°This is Goldilocks. What do you think?¡± ¡°... Era?¡± ¡°Of course, Era. What did you think?¡± Sid rolled her eyes playfully. Chris smiled, grateful she didn¡¯t feel like strangling the woman for the gesture like she did Donovan. ¡°Alright. Enough chit chat. You should take one.¡± She held the tray a little closer to Chris. Chris couldn¡¯t help wrinkling her nose. The pinkish packages hadn¡¯t seemed so bad from far away, but up close she could tell that the liquid inside looked like vomit, with little chunks and particles floating in it. Sid smiled at Chris¡¯ hesitation and added. ¡°They look repulsive I know. And I¡¯m not gonna lie to you, they say they taste worse than they look. I believe them. But unless you want to spend an hour getting lunch, nutri-packs are the only way to get right back into the game.¡± Chris looked back at the tall woman¡¯s capsule, the one she thought belonged to Yaz. Past it, there were only a couple more and Yaz was bound to come out of one of them. It was in her best interest to do exactly as the woman before her had done. Reluctantly she picked up one of the nutri-packs that could only be likened to vomit bags. The comparison was only exacerbated by the scent released when she opened it. ¡°Woah. That¡¯s foul.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t it just?¡± Sid asked, gleeful smile plastered across her face. When Chris didn¡¯t immediately chug the stuff like the woman before her had, Sid said, ¡°Come on now. Drink up. The longer you wait, the harder it gets.¡± Reluctantly inching the package toward her mouth, she took a tentative sip. The liquid was like slime and stuck to the top of her mouth, making it hard to swallow, but the taste made it even harder to stomach, impossible actually. She couldn¡¯t stop herself from gagging, her stomach was revolting and she had barely gotten a sip down. Her eyes were watering at the acidic aftertaste it gave. There wasn¡¯t any water handy, so she gulped down air, trying to make the taste go away, but it didn¡¯t. ¡°Pretty tasty, huh?¡± Chris was bent over, trying not to lose the contents of her stomach. Looking up through teary eyes, she saw Sid¡¯s cheerful face. ¡°No. Not realy. Not at all. Ugh. I can¡¯t believe you can drink that.¡± Her stomach was convulsing just at the thought of it. She wasn¡¯t sure she¡¯d be able to bring herself to finish the whole thing. She hadn¡¯t even finished off a tenth of it. Sid shrugged. "I''d drink up if I were you. You have about six hours of game time before dinner." Steeling herself Chris chugged down as much of the slime as she could before she couldn''t take it anymore. "You''re just making it harder on yourself. Most new arrivals don''t realize how huge an advantage these are." While Chris made another attempt at the vomit bag, Sid''s eyes focused on another player who had just come out of their capsule. "Alright," She said. "I''m out." But on her turn to leave, she added, "Oh. Make sure you make it to at least level seven by the end of today. No one has ever gone full-time by the end of the week who didn¡¯t at least reach level seven by the end of day one. To give you an idea... Nika made it to level 15 on day one." She grinned at Chris'' expression. "I guess good luck is in order.... Toodles." Chris was left, staring after the woman. After completing the quest, she hadn''t even made it to level four yet. She had fallen just a couple hundred experience points short. There was no way she was going to be able to follow Donovan''s strict leveling routine, not if she wanted a shot at making level seven by the end of the day. The jump in difficulty from level two to level three had already been intense; she could only imagine what the consecutive jumps would be like. Focusing on the flimsy plastic in her hand, she steeled her resolve and swallowed. Taking a deep breath and quickly releasing it she tried to fool her taste buds by lifting the package to her mouth and tightly squeezing it so the slime hit the back of her throat on the way down. Keeping her attention on her right toe, she tried to ignore any sensations coming from her upper body. She had bigger things to worry about than the awful taste of a synthetic meal package. The biggest debate she had going in her head was the question of whether she was just an extremely bad player as Donovan had said or whether he was full of shit and the stat points didn''t matter as much as he claimed. Package drained, she headed towards her capsule and waited for the guard to key her in. Sid silently came by and collected her empty container, winking at her during the process. The capsule closed around her, following the same process as before. Knowing what to expect, she wasn''t nearly as bothered as before, especially when her whole plan would have to be rethought. She obviously couldn''t keep doing what she was doing, not if she wanted to be chosen by the end of the week. The moment Chris''s capsule closed, another one two doors down opened, but by then, Yaz was the least of her worries. --- The lights around her brightened and Chris felt her body being pulled through a tunnel of light as she morphed into her body as Aya. Her limbs shrinked, her hair shortened and her clothes changed. This all happened in a span of a couple of seconds, until Aya was promptly deposited in the exact spot she had logged out from. Players were milling all about, talking to various NPCs, trading goods and forming parties exactly the same as when she had left. Suddenly Donovan appeared before her. He looked her up and down, as if ascertaining that she hadn¡¯t destroyed her avatar in the time he had left. "I have to log out soon,¡± he said as he walked away from her. ¡°I will be gone for up to twenty Era hours." She unthinkingly fell in step behind him. "I do not know of any other players that are willing to inefficiently allot time to you as I have. Thus, I suggest you use this time to work on a profession based skill." "Actually, Donovan-¡ª " "The question then, is... What profession do you wish to pursue?" "Wait Donovan, I have to tell y¡ª ... Profession?" "Job." "... Yea, I get that much," she said, fighting not to roll her eyes. "I just mean, how do professions work in Era? Like... What options do I have?" "Professions work pretty much like they would in the real world. You can be a cook, a brewer, a miller, a hunter, a trapper, a fisher, a leatherworker, a tailor, a smith, a miner, a weaponsmith, a bowyer, a mapmaker, a scribe, an artist, a sculptor, a jew¡ª" "Okay. A bunch of options," she said cutting him off before he ran out of breath. "But how is that going to help me? Does it give me EXP or something?" Aya was thinking of her need to level up and prove that she could be a worthy player if given the chance. "Obviously not.¡± He kept walking. ¡°That is the whole point why you should be pursuing this course of action until I return. All of your actions have the chance of giving you stat points, so if you jump up and down long enough¡­¡± He jumped up and down in the air a couple of times as if to illustrate the point. ¡°It is bound to give you something.¡± He continued walking. ¡°But we both know that is not a very efficient or productive use of anyone''s time. Thus¡­¡± He reached an intersection in the road and turned to face her. ¡°I suggest you work on accomplishing something else until I get back. Just keep following the same pattern we have been using so far. Work on getting stats until you have gained 99% of the possible ones for that level, then go do your precious quests or kill mobs until you level up and are back to 0%. Follow the same¡ª" "Yeah. Got it the first time." ¡°That is very good.¡± She felt like she had just been praised for the capacity of basic human logic. ¡°So now you must choose your profession.¡± ¡°What is your profession?¡± ¡°I am skilled at various. I suggest you pick either leatherworking or weaponsmithing.¡± ¡°Well. Actually, I don¡¯t think I¡­ Hm, why those specifically?¡± ¡°The basic leatherworking training requires you to catch various low-level mobs without harming them in any way. That means no traps or weapons of any kind¡­ It will give you plenty of speed stats.¡± He positioned his hands behind him, poised for a lecture. ¡°Weaponsmithing, on the other hand, will train your strength and endurance, which you will need to finish kills. Speed is good and all, but you need basic strength so your opponent does not heal faster than you can hurt him.¡± ¡°That makes sense. Sometimes when I was fighting the goblins I really wanted to be stron¡­ Wait, I¡ª ¡± ¡°Excellent, I will introduce you to Xavier,¡± he said. ¡°I have a good reputation with him.¡± He turned on his heels and started walking east. Aya tripped on the cobbled road as she tried to catch up with his longer legs. ¡°Actually Donovan¡­ I wanted to ask you about something.¡± ¡°You do not require my permission to pose a question.¡± ¡°... Right. Well, you see,¡± Aya said. ¡°I¡¯m not sure this is the best way for me to show results. You see¡­ at my prison, it really matters how well we do in game.¡± ¡°It should matter to everyone. Failure equals ineptitude.¡± ¡°So you see how it is important that I level up, right?¡± ¡°No. I do not. If you level without focusing on your stats, eventually you will be beaten by someone ten levels below you. Not in the immediate future, but it will happen. It is a mere eventuality. Anyone that worries only about levels is incompetent and short-sighted. The low-level game is a gateway into the actual game. It has to be done right.¡± ¡°...¡± All he said sounded true and made sense and she started questioning Sid¡¯s words. But in the end, they also had merit. She needed to show that she was progressing somehow and she didn¡¯t see how hammering away at a piece of metal would prove to anyone that she was a good player. Donovan stopped and studied her. ¡°Does your silence indicate you do not understand me?¡± ¡°No, Donovan. I understand, but I need to show results. If I don¡¯t by the end of the week¡­ they¡¯ll cut me.¡± ¡°The week in Era or the real world?¡± ¡°The real world. Why?¡± ¡°Then you are being as short-sighted as the rest of them. There is a saying, I believe: Rome was not built in a day. Do you want to be Rome or a forgotten city of no name?¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°That was a metaphor. It is sometimes used in speech to help put unfamiliar things into perspective.¡± He said when she didn¡¯t immediately reply to his surprisingly good advice. ¡°If the intentional message was not clear enough, I can explain further. I thought Rome was common knowledge.¡± Aya looked at his face then, and saw for the first time that there was no condescension. The kid seriously just wanted to know if she had understood him or not. She felt her lips slip into a grin, thinking she was lucky to have run into him. It was time she stopped worrying about which path to take and focus the one she was on. She smiled at Donovan and reached up to ruffle his unkempt hair. ¡°Kid¡­ you¡¯re really annoying, have absolutely no social grace and are in dire need of a shower but¡­ I think you¡¯re alright.¡± For the first time since she had met him, she saw the kid look slightly uncomfortable. Aya couldn¡¯t help smiling. He was a big softie underneath. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°You need a lot of work. But eventually I think you will also be¡­ alright,¡± he said. ¡°Good bye.¡± Two quick hand movements later, he beamed out of sight. Shaking her head with amusement, she looked around after his departure. She was standing in front of a big stone building, weathered by cracks and smoke stains. A chimney was releasing puffs of grey, velvety smoke. A man stood at the doorway, blocking it completely with the muscular width of his chest. ¡°This is private property,¡± he said gruffly. ¡°Get away.¡± He unfolded his arms, revealing a massive hammer. ¡°Or I will make you.¡± He dropped the hammer through his hand, catching it at the beginning of the hilt. It wasn¡¯t a very amicable gesture. It looked like Donovan¡¯s reputation with Xavier was not going to help her after all. --- At first, the smithy hammer had distracted Aya to the extent that she didn¡¯t notice the lack of the NPC sign above Xavier¡¯s head. The guy was actually a player just like her, minus of course, the convict status. Which in turn happened to be the cause of the distinct animosity she had detected from the guy. Even after she explained her relationship with Donovan, he remained vigilant with her, but took her into the smithy. ¡°So you want to learn the trade?¡± he asked, standing in front of the hot furnace. ¡°Yes,¡± she managed, the heat and light of the fire were hurting her eyes even from across the room. ¡°Then bring me fifty loads of ore,¡± he said, dumping a large, ragged sack at her feet. ¡°Go to the mines east of here, talk to the foreman of the mine, tell him I sent you¡­¡± He looked at the maximum security convict symbol above her head. ¡°Fill that sack up with ore and bring it back to me. If you even think of doing a half-assed job or shorting me, don¡¯t even bother coming back.¡± Xavier then turned his massive back on her, lifted a piece of metal that had been heating in the fire and hammered at it, molding the malleable metal into shape. Aya stood transfixed, watching the beautiful process of turning nothing into something. When the red hot glow of the metal faded, the mesmerizing swift strikes of the hammer stopped abruptly and the metal was carelessly shoved back into the heat. ¡°What are you waiting for?¡± he asked. ¡°If you don¡¯t want to learn, then leave. If you do, stop wasting my time. Either way, get out of here.¡± Aya opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it, picking up the sack at her feet before tumbling out the door. She quickly made her way out of town, taking the same western gate and going by the same shinily outfitted guards as before. Having no idea how to get to the mines- her new mentor hadn¡¯t been very forthcoming in that, or any, regard - she almost stopped to ask for directions, but something about them was off and she decided to ask someone outside the city limits. Every time she ran into a player she would try asking for directions. Some would dismiss her at first sight, some would start answering her innocent-looking avatar before the convict status jumped out of them and others simply didn¡¯t care because they were convicts themselves. As she made her way slowly towards the mines, she stopped and killed any mobs she came across that were on Will¡¯s list of requested pelts. She still wanted the backpack, but mostly she really needed to level up before she could work on her stats. Before too long she accomplished just that and minutes later, she arrived at the mine. The foreman was easy to spot in his red bandana, bright yellow shirt and dark red pants. The bandana was holding back a long mass of dreadlocks that hung halfway down his back. His skin was dark and shiny, reflecting the sun and torchlight at the entrance. Approaching him, she saw that his skin was actually stone, with partition lines running along his joints, like he was pieced together. The thing that really gave him away as foreman, however, was probably the banner scrolling above his head. [FOREMAN FOREMAN FOREMAN FOREMAN] ¡°Hi,¡± she said. ¡°My name is Aya. Xavier sent me.¡± He glared at the symbol above her head. She was beginning to realize just how out of the ordinary Donovan was for accepting her so quickly. When he didn¡¯t say anything for a couple moments, Aya took out the sack Xavier had given her, hoping it would be proof enough. He looked at it unpleasantly. If she didn¡¯t know any better, she would have said he had just bitten directly into a lemon. It was an amazing feat for a man with stone skin. Without a word, he turned around and headed inside. Used to Donovan¡¯s behavior, his actions didn¡¯t faze her at all and she fell into step behind him. He walked into the mine and the sunlight quickly gave way to flickering torchlight. Before she could take inventory of the area around her, the foreman went to a corner and came back with an item in each hand. ¡°Here,¡± he said, using his gravelly voice for the first time. Aya was caught off guard by the aftertones of what sounded like stone sliding against stone, leaving her unprepared for the pick that was launched at her. She barely fended it off before it smacked her in the face. It fell to the ground with a loud clang as the foreman held the other item to the flame beside him. The flickering light showed his already sour expression turn foul. ¡°You break it, you pay for it,¡± he practically barked. Aya refrained from commenting on the already pretty broken status of the tool and bent down to pick it up. It wasn¡¯t easy; the thing was half her size. ¡°The fee is one medium copper ore an hour,¡± he said and shoved a torch in her hand. ¡°The torch is a medium iron ore extra.¡± He smirked evilly, then evidently caught himself and glared at her before leaving without any further instructions. Watching the man make his way back to the entrance, she listened as his steps echoed off the narrow and short hallways that branched off of the main room she was in. Holding a torch in one hand she used it to light each tunnel to see if it would give her a hint of where she needed to go. After holding the torch to the seven different tunnels, she couldn¡¯t detect the slightest difference between them. The moment she thought she was going to have to teach herself how to mine, she heard distant clanging reverberating in one of the tunnels. Torch in one hand and pick slung across her opposite shoulder, she made her way down the narrow, low tunnel, for once thankful of her short stature. The tunnel branched off in many directions, sometimes even up or down but those were always to the side so she was in no danger of falling down a vertical shaft, as long as she followed the main tunnel. Slowly the clanging grew louder until she was able to differentiate the sounds of metal on rock from the tumble of voices. When she got close enough to see the flickering light of flames, she could even make out a couple words here and there until she reached a dead end in the main tunnel and followed the branch from which most of the noise was coming. Entering the slight opening, she came across five players. Two were humans, two were dwarves and one was whatever race the foreman had been. The ceiling in the area was much taller than the tunnel had been and they could all stand straight as they worked away at the stone. At first, no one acknowledged her presence, but one of the humans spotted her when he turned back to deposit a shiny fist-sized stone on top of a pile of glimmering stones of the same size. Aya watched as the glow of the stone slowly faded until it became just like the rest, sporting only a slight glimmer. ¡°Oi,¡± the human shouted. ¡°You deaf or something? What do you want?¡± Looking up, she realized the clanging had stopped and all of the players in the cave were staring at her unpleasantly. Not one of them was a convict. ¡°Sorry¡­¡± she said. ¡°I was just looking for someone to teach me about mining because I hav ¡ª ¡± ¡°Not our problem,¡±one of the dwarves said before he got back to work. ¡°Get out of here,¡± said the original human, glaring at her until she left. After attempting two more mining nooks, with very similar results, she was losing hope when she ran into two orcs. One of them turned out to have a cousin in max sec - wrongfully accused of course. The two had also been in many hunting and questing parties with other convicts, so they didn¡¯t have a problem with her. At first, neither wanted to teach her how to mine, but holding the torch the foreman had given her, she had an idea. ¡°If you teach me,¡± Aya said. ¡°I¡¯ll give you my first copper.¡± Both of them quickly turned, but one of them shouted out, ¡°Deal!¡± and was already running her way when she realized she had undercut herself. What she really should have done was use them against each other to lower the price. She was already kicking herself about it, but Hathorne chose that precise moment to remind her of his existence and really stick it to her. Your mind for commerce has been acknowledged by your gatekeeper. + 0.1 Contract Point Aya was quite sure that points were usually handed out in integer, not decimal, form. She felt like flipping off the heavens, but she was in a cave¡­ with witnesses. That would be stupid. Instead, she followed the orc, Obelisk, to an area in the cavern where there was a vein-like streak of glimmering stone on the wall. ¡°See that?¡± he asked, pointing at it with his pick. ¡°That¡¯s a vein. This is a copper mine but there is lots of iron in it as well. Just chip away at it. Eventually, you¡¯ll get to it.¡± ¡°But¡­ is iron ore not good or something?¡± she asked. ¡°Good? It¡¯s fine. It¡¯s just heavy for armour,¡± he said, slinging the pick over his shoulder like it was a feather. ¡°And with Fangbuster¡­ well. People are just going crazy for the copper all of a sudden. If you want to make money, that¡¯s what your gear should be. Copper. Which you owe me by the way. Happy digging.¡± He then swiveled around and went back to his side of the cavern where he went right back to clanging away at the wall. Mining introduction over. In the end, Aya had to watch both of their movements to actually learn how to mine. Turns out the 0.1 points were really all that she deserved for that particular transaction. --- At first, she failed completely, never being able to hit the wall right, but with time she finally got the hang of it and started producing results where she would reach a glowing ore piece or another. Half an hour later, she had fifty or so pieces of ore and was quite satisfied with the growing pile of it behind her. Stretching out her sore back for the first time since she started digging, she opened her interface and was pleased when she saw considerable progress with her stats. Strength and endurance, just like Donovan had said. Plopping down on top of her ore pile like a dead sack of potatoes, she looked back at her two cave companions. For the first time she actually looked at their piles and her jaw dropped. She hadn¡¯t noticed it before because the difficulty of mining wasn¡¯t known to her, but both of them had hundreds of ore pieces behind them. Obelisk caught her staring at one point and set his pick down, leaning on it for support. He had a grave look about him. ¡°Look, kid,¡± he began. ¡°I¡¯ve been watching you slave away at that wall for a while now and while I admire your endurance¡­ you¡¯re just not cut out for this sort of work. And that pick of yours¡­ I¡¯m pretty sure it has no bonuses on it or anything. Without them it¡¯s pretty hard to strike copper here. Bonuses can greatly increase the probability of striking higher value ore¡­¡± The orc was looking at the meager pile below her, he sighed. ¡°What¡¯s your average?¡± he asked. ¡°My average what?¡± ¡°Wow. You really don¡¯t know a thing do you?¡± he asked. ¡°Each ore has a percentage yield in it. Anything below 10% is considered junk ore, not even worth carting back to town.¡± He directed her attention to small stacks of ore piled along the side of the wall. There were a couple hundred at least. Picking up a few of her own ores, she realized that almost all of them were below 20% and a lot were below 5%. The moment she realized all that work had not paid off like it should, she jumped up, clenched her fist around the junk ore she had just mined and threw it into the piles of others like it. ¡°Easy there, tiger,¡± he said. ¡°Here, I can see you don¡¯t have any copper ore, so I¡¯ll let you pay me back with iron ore. Just make sure it¡¯s at least of 40% yield.¡± Aya felt like hurling an ore at him as well, but decided against it, while she angrily rifled through her stack until she found an ore of 38%. She hurled it at him, missing him by half a foot. He looked at her before he picked up the ore. Regretting her actions, she stepped back, relaxing the limbs she realized had tensed up during the last couple of minutes. ¡°Sorry,¡± she said. ¡°Didn¡¯t mean anything by it.¡± He looked at the ore¡¯s content. ¡°I was just¡ª ¡± she tried to continue but he didn¡¯t comment on the shortage of and went back to swinging his pick. Closing her mouth with the unfinished sentence, Aya quietly shrank into herself and slowly stacked the ore into the sack Xavier had given her. By the time she collected all her ore, it was only about half full. She plopped against the wall and leaned her head against her knees. Listening to the rhythmic clanging of the two picks, she felt like they symbolized her in that moment. Pulling her one way and then the other. Click. Clack. Click. Clack. She lost herself in the rhythm, remembering her years at the checkout counter. The tension in her arms slowly rolled off of her. Her gaze unfocused, lost in her thoughts, she wasn¡¯t aware of the world until she suddenly sprang to her feet, eyes glued to the piles of junk ore in front of her. A slow feral smile spread across her face. Aya quickly emptied the sack of its contents. ¡°Hey, Obelisk!¡± she yelled across the cavern. ¡°You up for a trade?¡± The smile had turned into a grin as she playfully lobbed a piece of mediocre ore up and down in synchrony with the other player¡¯s pick. Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Chapter 17: Sacking SPECIAL THANKS TO JAKESONFIRKEN my Math Advisor. YOU DA BOM! ¡°An ore trade?¡± Obelisk asked skeptically. ¡°Well, sure, why not? If the terms are right.¡± Obelisk smiled indulgently and watched as his partner turned around to watch the exchange. ¡°I¡¯ll give you one of my twenties if you give me three of your tens.¡± He laughed. ¡°The way I see it, I¡¯m basically just handing over ten extra percent.¡± He chuckled, and looked at the other orc, whose name Aya still didn¡¯t know, in playful exasperation. Aya smiled, glad to see her childish appearance at least had the benefit of grown-up indulgence. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s true¡­ but! Didn¡¯t you yourself say¡­ some percentages aren¡¯t worth their weight back to town? That¡¯s my fee for halving your weight.¡± Obelisk stopped smiling, caught off-guard by the point she made. ¡°I guess I¡¯d never looked at it that way¡­¡± he said. ¡°Suppose I agreed with you, but thought your fee a bit sharp. What¡¯s the best you can do for me? Four of your twenties for nine of my tens?¡± ¡°Suppose I thought yours was a bit low,¡± she countered, catching hold of the bargaining gleam in his eye. ¡°Five for fourteen.¡± ¡°Five for eleven and a half.¡± ¡°A half?¡± She asked, shaking her head. ¡°I can get as many ¡°halves¡± as I want. You just told me that yourself!¡± She pointed accusingly at the discarded junk ore. He smiled ruefully in reply. ¡°I had to try,¡± he said. ¡°Alright, then five for twelve.¡± ¡°Four for eleven.¡± ¡°Two for five.¡± ¡°Three for eight.¡± ¡°Five for thirteen.¡± ¡°Two for seven then, but that¡¯s as low as I¡¯ll go.¡± ¡°Done!¡± They shook hands, making an agreement. Both were smiling widely, happy with the deal they had just made. That¡¯s when the third party in the room decided to make her presence known, cackling so loud the echoes filled the cavern with the sound of a laughing audience. Tears were streaming down the large Orc¡¯s face, and she bent over clutching her stomach. Obelisk and Aya eyed the woman in surprise as she wheezed, trying to catch her breath. When the laughter didn¡¯t stop, a slow frown made its way onto Obelisk¡¯s forehead. ¡°What¡¯s the matter with you, Tundra!?¡± He asked with a sharp undertone in his voice. The woman slowly managed to bring her head up long enough to look at her friend before she burst out laughing again, bringing new tears to her face. Obelisk just stood there stoically, crossing his arms in annoyance. Eventually the laughter died down and the woman composed herself enough to say, ¡°Geez Obie. The mite totally pulled one over on you.¡± The Orc looked suspiciously at Aya before turning to his partner, ¡°And how¡¯s that?¡± ¡°Two for seven man!¡± she gasped, clasping a hand over her mouth as a grin erupted. Tundra snorted while Obelisk scrunched his face in concentration. Aya watched in silent apprehension. It had seemed a good idea at the time, caught in the haggling frenzy, but watching Obelisk¡¯s expression morph from concentration to understanding, she wasn¡¯t so sure anymore. The man¡¯s eyes hardened as he stared her down. All moisture left Aya¡¯s mouth as the large Orc approached her. Aya¡¯s eyes darted around, looking for some kind of rescue, but the moment a fuming Obelisk came to a halt before her, she knew it was on her. She shrank into her small frame, trying to look as pitiful as possible with a forced hand-in-the-cookie-jar smile. She was going for cutely rueful but it was about as fake as a politician¡¯s ideals. ¡°I had to try¡­¡± she said in a voice that came out barely louder than a whisper. She swallowed and tried again. ¡°... Right?¡± Aya cringed at the squeak in her voice and watched Obelisk carefully for a reaction. The Orc narrowed his eye, slowly began to lift his clenched fists, making Aya shrink away in fear as he settled his hands on his hips, threw his head back and laughed. Tundra watched with a grin on her face as her friend burst into laughing tears as she had only minutes before. ¡°Hey kid!¡± she yelled across the room. ¡°I¡¯ll take you up on your initial offer. One for three.¡± She grinned as the announcement only made Obelisk laugh harder. Shaking her head with a smile of her own, she turned back around, lifted her pick up above her head in an easy graceful arch before it lunged down with deadly efficiency. Clack. Your mind for commerce has been acknowledged by your gatekeeper. + 100 Contract Points Congratulations! Your Manipulation Education Tree has sprouted! Nurture it well, or it will wither and die! NOTE: Manic Creatures are attracted to strong and healthy Education Trees. --- Her love-hate relationship with Obelisk evolved quite naturally after that. After the whole exchange was done and over with, she had about six hundred pieces of barely viable ore. The orc just shook his head in half amusement and half indignation when she saw the growth of her tiny pile through his. Aya then gathered her ores into the sack once more; it took almost a hundred ores to fill. When she slung it over her back and tried standing, she realized it was the heaviest thing she had ever carried. Obelisk watched gleefully from his corner as he propped both of his arms on his pick, waiting for her to make a fool of herself. She shrugged and slowly staggered her way out of the cavern. The weight was unbearable, and the rudimentary rope handles of the sack cut deeply into her shoulder, chafing against the rough fabric of the beginner tunic against her skin. Aya was panting profusely and she hadn¡¯t even left the mine yet. Then suddenly, her torch went out. She felt like throwing it against the wall, smashing it in half. Instead, she calmly inserted the piece of wood under the straps right behind her neck so they would take some of the weight off of her shoulders. It helped about as much as a cork holds a damn, but it helped nonetheless. By the time she reached the foreman, she was already soaked with grimy sweat that collected the rock dust in the air. When he saw her, his face contorted with both disgust and annoyance, she let hers do the same when she saw the pick he was renting out to another player. A better pick, for a fraction of the price. It was at that moment she fully understood how impossible the task was going to be. She was going to have to find her own pick. Fueled by annoyance, she didn¡¯t even bat an eyelash when she handed over three low-level ores that would add up to the minimum medium level that he required, which was 30%. It had taken her half an hour to mine out a single copper ore of 20% and another ten minutes of creative haggling with Obelisk. She suspected the man gave in because he felt sorry for her, not because of her wonderful skills of commerce or manipulation, but in the end she was rewarded for those as well. She shrugged, trying to focus on the fact that it was a game and not dwell on the fact that she was surviving through pity people felt for an avatar that wasn¡¯t even her. After her payment, she was about to leave when he pointed out the remains of the torch on her back. Aya looked him in the eye, clenched her fists, opened her mouth to say something, but changed her mind and simply untied her pack and handed over three more low level ores, this time iron. As she tied it back up, she remembered Xavier¡¯s words of shorting him. Sighing, she made her way back to the tunnels. She didn¡¯t bother asking for another torch. A couple minutes later, she was already growing out of breath again, when she saw one of the caverns that the tunnel broke out into. Obelisk told her that a cavern had a set number of maximum ore that could be extracted from it and that once that number is depleted, another cavern must be dug. He said the one they were working on currently still had about half of its lifespan left. When she asked him how he knew, he had simply told her that it was an eventual bonus of the mining skill when it was high enough. She had checked her own mining skill progress, which she hadn¡¯t noticed during her mining spree, so focused on the ore. It had reached 4% after almost an hour of labor; mining clearly wasn¡¯t her calling. Thinking about all this, Aya went into one of the caverns and picked up three of the many junk ores that were lying around the cavern. She was annoyed, she was tired and she didn¡¯t want to go all the way back down to the other cavern. If Xavier got upset about three little junk ores, well that was his problem, he had never specified any ore quality. In fact, in his whole helpfulness, he hadn¡¯t specified anything. Aya tied the knot with great, forceful satisfaction before she carefully arranged the sack on her back with the torch for support. She focused on her annoyance at the players around her who refused to treat her fairly because she was a convict but then turned around and behaved like the real criminals, using it to fuel her trek back to town. By the time she made it back to the smithy, she was drenched in her own sweat. The three water flasks Donovan had given her on the other hand were bone dry. People gave her strange looks as she passed them, panting, grimy and smelly with sweat. At times, the reality of the game was a bit much. Inside the smithy, Xavier was hammering away at a piece of metal the same way as when she had left. She held her ground, stubbornly stoic, refusing to wield to him the way metal did. The cords cut into her shoulders and the torch had given up its usefulness a long time ago. Eventually, he turned around to face her while he wiped his hands with a stained rag. He eyed her from head to toe, but didn¡¯t comment on her change in appearance, instead, he merely held out his hand and motioned her forward to the table between them. Moving slowly, she deposited the ore, by letting the sack slam down in front of him. He gave the individual pieces a cursory glance and nodded. ¡°Stack them in the corner,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re still forty nine short.¡± Xavier turned around, not bothering to point out which corner, and went back to shaping hot metal. Aya struggled to move the ore sack on her own. Having it on her back meant one thing, but trying to carry it out in front of her created a completely different monster. Her short stature basically ruined her fight with the physics of leverage. Eventually, she managed to drag the ore to the corner. It was empty. A couple steps to the side stood a large crate, stacked neatly with ore. Apparently Xavier did not want to mix hers with the rest of his. Refusing to care, she went to the corner and carefully organized the ore, even taking the time to sort them by purity. Her need for order surfaced the most when everything else around her fell into chaos. Sore from the walk, she stood up with creaking joints. Turning toward Xavier, she noticed a massive barrel of water in the corner of the room. Her tongue felt like sandpaper in her mouth, she desperately needed water, but as she watched the smith hammer away at the metal, she quickly left through the door before she grovelled at his feet. The empty flasks dangled from a basic belt she had fashioned by slicing up one of her failed attempts at pelt extraction. Banging against one another as she walked, they kept emitting hollow sounds, a constant reminder of their lack of water. Without the ore weighing her down, her steps were much lighter and she quickly found her way to the marketplace once more. Talking to NPCs left and right, she sold off most of her loot. The only thing that remained five minutes later were the pelts she would need for her quest with Will. The exorbitantly high water prices established by the township were her only choice. She knew players used transportation portals to create a water trade, but there was no time to waste on finding a player not prejudiced against convicts. In the marketplace, she approached a potbellied man sitting on a misplaced throne, wearing crimson clothes. They shined with luxurious splendor, held together by a gold sash tied in the unfortunate place under his belly. The tight outline the stretch of the clothes created made it seem like quintuplets were on the way. His comparatively skinny arms even rested atop his gigantic belly like those of a proud mother. The line in front of him consisted mainly of NPCs but she attached herself to the end of it anyway. She watched as the man treated each citizen with demeaning contempt, making them kiss his shoes. A set of six guards stood watching stoically, forming a gleaming barricade of gleaming steel. The haggard faces around her were etched with irritation that disappeared with practiced ease when they approached the man. The blanker the stares the man got, the more demanding he became. It reminded her of the real world, the separation of the rich and poor. The incessant need the rich had to instill that divide, to clarify that they were different, somehow superior to the rest. Clenching her jaw in frustration, she waited for her turn to deal with the man¡¯s pettiness. Her turn came soon enough but the moment he saw her, he changed his tune. Suddenly, he only cared about business. His face slipped into greasy friendliness andAya heard the whispers about outworlders¡¯ special treatment behind her. There were obviously ulterior motives involved but she couldn¡¯t see them from where she stood on the board. Her curiosity was piqued, but she knew she couldn¡¯t afford any side, or even main, projects just now. She knew the man had some kind of link to the mysterious drought in the region, which in turn was the whole reason she had chosen Durrenheim. Knowing that she couldn¡¯t do anything about it yet, not at level four, she decided to pursue it later. With forty-nine trips for ore left, she was bound to end up at the man¡¯s feet more than once. Aya took all the water she could buy, barely enough to fill two flasks. The man¡¯s fake friendliness did not extend to price reductions. Making her way out of town, she was a little annoyed she couldn¡¯t immediately pursue the mystery so when she overheard the words of two women walking in the crowd in front of her, she fell into step behind them. ¡°Water is getting more and more expensive,¡± said the one on the right. She was carrying a flask tightly under her arm. ¡°It¡¯s ridiculous,¡± said the other, no flask in sight. ¡°Eldera already moved to her mother-in-law¡¯s in the Parrantine region.¡± ¡°Wait¡­ that old bat!? Der hates her! Why would she¡ª¡± ¡°Look around,¡± she said in a quieter voice that almost didn¡¯t make it to Aya¡¯s ears. ¡°Things aren¡¯t as they should be when¡­¡± her voice dissipated in the air. Her face was turned to her friend so Aya could see that her lips were moving while she furtively looked around, but her words remained out of reach. ¡°It¡¯s his fault!¡± the other said in a much gruffer voice. ¡°Ever since Petin took over from Tamaba, we¡¯ve had to¡ª¡± A large cart rolled by, creaking its wooden wheels on the cobbled ground, masking their voices for a while. ¡°... don¡¯t have a choice when¡ª¡± A particularly loud merchant shouted declarations and promises concerning his goods, drowning out the voices she wanted to overhear. The conversation continued in much the same way while she followed them down the busy streets; unfortunately, she didn¡¯t discover anything she thought pertinent. Eventually, the women turned off into a quieter alley and Aya decided to continue her own quest. She would have more chances to talk to the townsfolk later. Aya followed the same path on her way out of town, jogging past dilapidated buildings, ragged townsfolk and gleaming guards. She pursed her lips and compartmentalized the problem for later. The more pressing issue was ore, stat grinding, money, leveling¡­ pretty much everything else. Caught in her thoughts, she almost didn¡¯t notice when she ran into a small pack of Meatigs. They immediately readied themselves, facing their tusks in her direction. Their coarse fur slowly bristled, displaying their markings more clearly. Meatigs lived in packs, each one having a certain rank. Donovan told her about how the beast¡¯s fur automatically shedded to reveal a new pattern if it managed to defeat its direct superior in a tusk fight. The ranked beasts were always conscious of the beast directly below them in rank, the only one allowed to challenge them. Aya had to face the challenge of all of them, but thankfully the pack would attack successively. The weakest attacked first and she accidentally finished him off with two blows. They had been one of her first opponents and she knew their weakness well. When either of two small bumps, one behind each ear, were damaged, the Meatig would be paralyzed for a minute or two, depending on its level. She attacked the weakness first and then killed it with a second stab right into the heart. It was an easy target on a motionless beast. Unfortunately, she gained EXP. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. With blood on her hands, she turned to the next-ranked. The attack came swiftly, much stronger than the first. Aya managed to step aside at the last minute on her second attack, stabbing its right bump as it dashed by. It immediately fell to the ground in twitching paralysis. Its limbs hardened and she looked for a way out. She couldn¡¯t keep killing mobs, not when she couldn¡¯t level up, but at the same time, she needed the money for water. Squeezing the dagger in her hand, she felt the iron stickiness of drying blood. The pack would never let her get away, not after she killed one of their own; unless she killed their leader. The only way to get to the leader was by killing all the others first and if she did that, she would definitely level up. She watched as the beast continued to twitch on the ground. She could finish it off in one swift movement to the heart; it would bleed out in seconds. Aya¡¯s face tightened as she considered her options; there weren¡¯t many. The only way she wouldn¡¯t ruin her plans was if someone else killed the beasts or nature somehow intervened. Wishing for a Rockyno stampede, she looked around, beyond the encroaching pack but she knew there were no Rockynos to be found. This wasn¡¯t their stomping ground. ¡°Why can¡¯t you just have a spontaneous stroke or something!?¡± Aya screamed as she kicked the motionless beast. Its health even fell by a point. Face twisted in hopelessness and teeth bared in annoyance, she kicked at it ineffectively until her breath became ragged and she sank to the ground beside it. Her dagger still in hand, she jabbed it sloppily at its heart, barely nicking it. It didn¡¯t die, but blood bubbled up around the dagger. Her hands were a bloody mess and she pulled the blade out, squirting blood everywhere. Backing off, she watched as a pool of blood grew around the beast and its health quickly fell. You have learned a new Skill! Bleed: Creates a gash that can bleed the opponent dry, long after you are gone. Chance of success depends on various factors like level of skill, level of adversary and circulatory system of adversary. Current skill level: 0.01 Reading the interface about the skill made her remember something Donovan had said about targeting her opponents correctly. Watching the health bar continuing to sink below the mob label above the beasts head, she realized she was still targeting the beast as its label glowed a crimson red. The health points were nearly zeroed out by the time she scrambled to untarget the beast. The icon stopped glowing red and turned to blue instead, the normal untargeted label color, before it almost immediately blinked to a lifeless gray. The second Meatig died and Aya did not receive a single experience point. Hope for her plans crawled back and she burst out laughing. She took down the third Meatig in three moves, one to incapacitate, and two Bleeds. She learned to activate the skill by thinking about it in synchrony with her attack. The beast didn¡¯t stand a chance; she had come a long way already from her Donovan-aided attempts that morning and she was just then realizing the difference in her strength, however small it might seem. The skill was a life-saver and she quickly finished off the other Meatigs in the same manner. Bleed turned out to have another surprising effect: the loot of blood. Having an empty flask, Aya refused to waste it. In less than five minutes, she had looted all of the beasts. The fur of her first victim was completely mangled, but instead of discarding it, she stripped it into six furry straps which she then fixed to the sack, removing the rough ropes that gave her the burning welts on her shoulders. With three straps on each side, she hoped the weight would be distributed more evenly. After her new skill appeared on her interface, she was reminded of the ones her Halfling race granted her. AllFours seemed pretty useless right then, but after talking to Donovan about her strengths, she knew it would prove quite useful in future. Equipped with SharpSight, she could quickly spot mobs on her way to the mine and with Bleed she could finish them off without leveling up. Her meticulous collection of loot continued all the way to the mine. She made her way past the foreman; his solid face was sculpted into a look of disdain. After winding her way through the tunnels, she found the cave once more. Tundra was nowhere in sight, but Obelisk was still steadily mining away in his corner. As she packed her ore into the sack, he told her about how Tundra had left a while back, taking her own load of ore into town to be processed. She could tell he had grown lonely in the time his friend had left because the words spewed out of him like a fountain. He babbled on about how Tundra¡¯s baby monitor had gone off on her way back to the mine. ¡°It usually takes her less than an Era hour though,¡± he said. ¡°she¡¯ll be back soon, so¡ª ¡± ¡°I will too,¡± she cut him off, using the new straps to lift the sack and leave the nook. ¡®He¡¯s okay and all, but I¡¯m not about to get stuck under tonnes of rock with a mopey old man.¡¯ The weight distribution plan worked just like she thought it would and instead of the torch, she bundled up all of the pelts, placing them as a buffer between herself and the sack. Closer to the exit, she finished filling the sack, about a fifth of it, full of junk ore from one of the already-depleted nooks. Her lip twitched and she bit it, hiding her excitement from nothing but her conscience. She had a theory to test. On the way out, the foreman didn¡¯t even bother to look her way and she quickly made her way back to town again. She couldn¡¯t run with almost fifty kilos of ore strapped to her back, so she settled for walking quickly, which, with her short legs, wasn¡¯t all that quick. Instead of using SharpSight to find and target mobs, she used it to avoid them. Keeping tabs of the exact path she was taking, she began creating a detailed map of the area with the pencil and notebook she had taken from Curiana. In high school, art had kept her sane. It had been her escape from childhood problems, but it had also been what had gotten her involved with Eddie in the first place. For a long time, she had blamed it for everything that happened. It had been her one pleasure in life, so she had given up on it, a form of self punishment. That time was past and she couldn¡¯t believe how good it felt to finally let her hand flow across the paper again. The first couple of sketches came out a little rough and disproportionate. The years of hiatus were showing themselves quite clearly as her fingers locked up and fell short, never quite transmitting what she wanted to the paper. Slowly, as the sketches added up, the pencil began to move more freely, yet still nowhere near as well as she remembered. Pencil, pen, paintbrush, whatever it was, didn¡¯t used to matter. All she had to do in the past was envision the image and it would appear the exact same way. She wondered if she would ever be able to work herself back to that. As she continued her heavy hike, she took notes on the mobs she saw. The notes were made in order to remind herself in future trips, so as to avoid them more easily. Unfortunately for her, she ran into another pack of Meatigs on the way back. It cost her some precious time to dispose all of them, having to be constantly aware of the sack she dropped. Players were going by all the time and she did not want to lose her load to someone who had it out for convicts. After that, she added in as many notes of the mobs¡¯ whereabouts as she could. Even if the game drew on an incredibly advanced AI, there had to be certain patterns the mobs followed and she was intent on discovering them. There was no time to waste. On the margins of her drawings she took the time to draw out a Meatig, a Thorndilly, a Rabidunny and any other mobs she came across. There were so many of them, it was hard to keep track of their names, appearances, weaknesses, levels and pack sizes. Those margin drawings quickly became too elaborate and gained their own pages. Devising a referencing system with the pages, Aya was quite satisfied with the way her notebook was shaping up. The drawings also served the beneficial purpose of helping her stretch her artistic muscles again. Landscapes had never been her forte, but people and living things had come as easily as breathing. By the time she reached the town walls, she was almost sad to put her notebook and pencil away. Even Donovan would have approved of her project; drawing turned out to have the surprising additional benefit involving a stat, precision. ---- The next four hours were spent in much the same way. She followed the same tiresome cycle, over and over and over and over, to the point where she basically entered the autopilot mode she had perfected as a cashier. The only difference was that there were a couple more steps in this particular routine. In the beginning, it took her almost twenty minutes to deliver a load but over time she managed to cut that time down to fifteen. At one point, she even maxed out the stat points for level four which had happened much faster than she expected until she realized that she was training stats she hadn¡¯t really bothered with until then. The growth rate tapered off slowly, but she continued making incredible progress and even finished Will¡¯s quest to level up to five. New bag in hand, she took even more ore with every trip. Refusing to let Xavier catch her on a the technicality of the number of trips, she found a semi-secure place along her route. It was a little off the route, adding a minute or two, but worth it in terms of other-player density. They rarely veered into the territory; the only mobs in sight were low-level chicken-like things called Layhens. Aya killed one of them once by accident; they became quite vicious when you picked up the black eggs they laid. They were very well hidden;, she only came across one because of her meticulous stacking of ore along the remains of a stone wall. The crow-black creature had attacked her quite furiously, jumping out of nowhere to peck at her with its bright orange beak. It¡¯s feathers were leathery to the touch and the only reason Aya refused to call the creature a chicken was the lizard like tail it used to secure itself to her arm with while it attacked. It was not a pleasant experience, especially since she gained no loot and practically no EXP. There was absolutely no mystery why other players avoided the area. The moment she stepped into one of the Layhens¡¯ hidden egg territories they would start their attack and she would hightail it out of there. She used that to her advantage and mapped herself a passage to her hidden ore stash; it was only possible because she had killed off the reigning Layhen. With time her second stash grew and a couple hours later she had already made twenty runs. Close to maxing out level five, she took a bit longer to make it back to the mine. She would be able to level up soon and when she thought she had her cycle down to a science, the unthinkable happened. The foreman and her still gave each other a wide berth every time she entered the mine. With time she found out from Obelisk, who Aya still paid a visit from time to time, that the position was hired out on a contractual basis with the town mayor. It was a surprisingly well-paying position but it required a ridiculous amount of reputation with the mayor. Aya watched him as she approached the entrance of the mine for the twenty first time. He handed picks to two players she hadn¡¯t run into yet and turned to lock up the tool cage. She had long found out that he had rented her the worst pick of the lot. In fact it was so much worse than the rest, she had no idea how it still had a place in the cage with all the others. Every time she saw him interact with other players she fought to keep her emotions in check. For years she had been so good at controlling her emotions in the real world, but in the game, her pretenses were quickly falling apart. Her real self was suddenly so close to the surface. She steadied her pace, readying herself to ignore him once more when suddenly the earth shook with a large thundering sound. Twenty feet away from the entrance, she was almost knocked over by a dust wave that followed, flowing out of the opening in one big gust. Coughing, she bent over, trying to get the dust particles out of her eyes, nose and mouth. By the time the dust settled a couple minutes later, she sported a completely new layer of grime. Laced with all the sweat, different mob bloods and smithy soot, she looked quite a sight. The dust settled on her, sticking to the lower layers of grime and making her skin look like cracked clay. Clearing her eyes of dust she looked up to find the foreman gone. Aya walked up to the entrance and looked around inside. All of the torches had gone out and the darkness overwhelmed her. By then she was used to navigating the dark tunnels but she took out one of the foreman¡¯s torches and lit it anyway. Something had happened in the mine and things were bound to look different. She did not want to end up in a hole somewhere with a broken leg. She knew all too well how the game did not go easy on the pain experience. Looking around, the dust particles were still floating in the air when she kicked some kind of small object that scraped across the floor in a metallic symphony.. Using the torch to light her way, she followed a path in the settled dust to find a set of keys, the foreman¡¯s keys. He wore it on his waist at all times and she had only seen him take it off to touch the tool cage. Standing up, she faced the closed cage. Her eyes wandered from the cage, to the keys, and back again. ¡°Are you the foreman?¡± Aya jumped when the sudden voice interrupted her thoughts. She turned around to find not just the speaker, but four other players, all orcs, looking at her. All of them eyed her condemningly after looking at her prisoner status. Stiffening her spine, she brought her hand to her hip in a ¡®Yea, so what you gonna do about it?¡¯ way. They keys she still held in her hand jangled with the movement. ¡°Who''s asking?¡± she spat. ¡°We are, obviously,¡± said one of the orcs, condescension dripping off her tongue. It triggered an interesting reaction from two of her teammates, who eyed her accusingly. ¡°Sorry about Sheryll here,¡± the initial orc said, moving his hands placatingly. ¡°She doesn¡¯t know when to shut up sometimes.¡± He smiled self-deprecatingly. It was quite a charming and compelling expression, even coming from an orc. Having spent quite some time with Obelisk and Tundra, Aya knew that the game made it hard for subtle expressions to be made with an orc character. The guy was obviously in charge for a reason. They were all dressed like their levels were in the low twenties . She had spent quite a while analyzing other players with her sketches on the way back and their gear was quite different from the customary gear in the area. The local NPCs had not provided them with it, which made Aya think that they had just migrated from a different region. ¡°That¡¯s ok,¡± she said. ¡°What do you want?¡± ¡°Some people told us to find the ¡®rock dude¡¯,¡± he said eyeing her flakey skin. ¡°We were wondering about mining permissions,¡± he said motioning at the keys at her waist. Aya looked down, feeling the weight of the keys in her hands, then she looked back at the group of five and said, ¡°No problem,¡± a sleazy car salesman grin spread over her face. ¡°Actually¡­ we have a special deal going on right now.¡± Chapter 18: Picking ¡°A deal?¡± the orc leader asked. ¡°Yep,¡± Aya said. ¡°As you can tell,¡± she kicked at the layer of settled debris, shooting a dust cloud in the group¡¯s direction, ¡°we just had a major tunnel collapse so the main copper vein is currently¡­ offline.¡± Sheryll started coughing obnoxiously but Aya spoke right over her. Aya smiled when her words evoked the exact disappointed faces she had expected. ¡°Unfortunately, I can¡¯t guarantee when we¡¯ll have all the debris cleared out of the way.¡± The words rolled out of her mouth as smooth as velvet ice cream. ¡°Sorry¡­¡± Sheryll said, not sounding sorry at all. ¡°But uhhh¡­ that sounds like a shitty deal to me.¡± Turning to her friends she added in a lower, yet still clearly audible voice, ¡°Come on guys. Let¡¯s get out of here. There¡¯s obviously something weird going on. No one said the foreman was a¡­¡± the female orc looked her way before fake-whispered, ¡°convict¡­¡± ¡°Seriously,¡± a tall orc said in exasperation, ¡°shut up, Sheryll!¡± He was comparatively skinny compared to his orcish counterparts, but the guy could still probably break a rock with his fist. ¡°Whatever, ¡®Napoleon¡¯,¡± she mocked. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ve had it with you,¡± he lashed back. ¡°I only ever brought you along because mom made me. But you¡¯re such a stuck-up little¡­¡± The leader of the group sighed and said, ¡°Sorry about those two,¡± as they continued bickering in the background. ¡°But Sheila has a point; if there is no copper¡ª ¡± ¡°Ah,¡± she interrupted. ¡°I should have been clearer, we are opening up another section of the mine. The vein is already almost dead, anyway.¡± She had no idea if that was true or not, but Obelisk had said something about how copper was getting harder and harder to come by in the tunnel they were digging in. She worried if he was okay but she used the plans he had shared with her to help her fill in her story. ¡°We were planning on opening up the second tunnel on the east side. A group of players recently hit the motherlode¡­¡± Aya watched as her words sprinkled player greed in all but the still-bickering siblings¡¯ eyes. They were hooked. ¡°I wish I could direct you to it,¡± she said, pursing her lips in resignation and shrugging her shoulders. ¡°But they flat-out bought the rights to that nook before they let anyone know what was in it¡­¡± Fortunately, that particular bit was true. Obelisk really couldn¡¯t keep his mouth shut when he was alone. ¡°Well. Enough of that. Point is, we are opening the tunnel, but we can¡¯t until we clear out some of the junk ore in it. So you have three choi¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯m telling mom!¡± Sheryll suddenly screamed before she beamed out of existence in a flash of blue light. Aya¡¯s hold over them was broken. They all started talking over one another while ¡®Napoleon¡¯ both trash talked and apologized for his sister logging off and abandoning the party so suddenly. Taking the moment of inattention, Aya turned around to see if the foreman was anywhere in sight. She didn¡¯t know how much time she had before he decided to come back. Turning her attention back to the group, her right eyebrow started twitching in annoyance. She wondered how old they were in real life. ¡°If you don¡¯t wanna hear it,¡± she said in a calm but firm voice. ¡°I have better things to do.¡± She even turned around again, pretending to walk away while she hung the torch she still held in one of the metal hooks on the wall. ¡°Wait!¡± the leader shouted. ¡°We¡¯re listening, sorry! We just had to¡ª¡± ¡°Look, kid. Doesn¡¯t matter to me. Just get your shit together before you come wasting my time.¡± ¡°Yeah, we got it,¡± he said, eyes downward. ¡°What are the three choices you were talking about?¡± Aya made a great show about trying to remember her carefully planned offers, scrunching her forehead in concentration before she finally cleared it and said, ¡°Oh! Right!¡± That time she took gave them all the chance to finally focus on her again. ¡°One. You can wait for the crews to clear out the collapse of tunnel four.¡± She didn¡¯t know for sure that was the tunnel that had collapsed but none of the other tunnels ever had any other players in it. It was as good a guess as any. ¡°No, I don¡¯t think we¡ª¡± ¡°Let me finish,¡± she said with a stern look. He quieted down and apologized under his breath, Aya tried not to smile. ¡°Two. You can take your pick¡­¡± she motioned to the cage of picks behind her, smiling at her own punnyness in a stressful moment like that. ¡°... and pay ten percent of the ore you get from any of the tunnels one, three, five and seven.¡± All four of them had their full attention directed at her, like a class of well-behaved pupils. ¡°Three. You can help us make tunnel two¡­ the one I was telling you about¡­ ready for general use.¡± ¡°And how would we do that?¡± the leader asked. ¡°Good question,¡± she smiled and said, ¡°By taking a total of five hundred junk ores from the tunnel. You have to take it all the way out though¡­ I¡¯ll show you on a map. Basically¡­ their unnecessary weight messes with the integrity of the mine¡­ as you can see from what happened today.¡± All four of them frowned slightly at her last statement making Aya quickly add, ¡°But don¡¯t worry. The mayor has given me the go ahead to exchange that particular favor for a free pick¡­¡± Thinking of the foreman her salesman smile took a darker shade when she added, ¡°of your choice.¡± --- Manipulation Success! Your tree flourishes. Stage I: 88% Aya sported a bright large white smile which contrasted starkly with the rest of her grimy appearance. The self-satisfied look came to full fruition when the group of four orcs disappeared behind an outcrop of trees in the direction she had directed them to. Having a map to show them where to deposit the junk ore they were carrying had turned out to be the most rewarding result of her meticulous notes. Turning back to the mine, she quickly tiptoed toward the tunnels. Standing just outside of the one she usually took she listened for any signs of activity. The usual sounds of pick hitting rock were nonexistent but every now and then she heard voices echoing off the walls. She approached cautiously, lifting one foot after the other after making a conscious decision where to lay it down. Her heart drummed in her ears as the voices grew louder and she began to differentiate them. Suddenly she could see light as well, flashes of blue light that lit up the tunnel enough to scare her. Deciding she had come far enough, she listened as a word or two floated her way. ¡°Can¡¯t hold¡­ longer¡­Many spells¡­ finish¡­.To town¡­ elixirs¡­¡± Aya turned around and left in the same manner she had come, trying to make as little noise as possible. It felt useless to her as all other sounds were soon drowned out by the rapid drumming of her heart. Her breath came ragged by the time she reached the entrance. It was adrenaline, not exhaustion. ¡°Ugh, there you are!¡± a high pitched voice exclaimed. Aya felt her heart in her throat and her eyes widened in apprehension, but then she laid eyes on the responsible party. Sheryll. Having absolutely no patience for the girl, she simply glared at her, not even bothering to hide one ounce of contempt she had bottled up over the last couple of days. It was probably unfair to the girl who was innocent of everything other than being an annoying brat, but in that very instance Aya didn¡¯t care. Sheryll shrank back, and her condescendingly pursed lips turned into a worried frown. ¡°S-sorry¡­ I¡­ ah¡­ W-was looking for Th-I mean Napoleon¡­¡± Aya sighed, clearing her face from all traces of anger. A look of aggression coupled with her convict symbol probably wouldn¡¯t look good to the girl. It probably wouldn¡¯t look good to the prison psychologist either, but that was a bridge for later crossing. ¡°Go to the second tunnel from the left.¡± She motioned to the path from which she had just come. ¡°Pick up 500 pieces of junk ore and take them to these coordinates.¡± Aya quickly opened the file with the screenshot of her notebook and sent it to her with a flick of a finger. Sheryll looked like she was about to object when her tusked little mouth opened but Aya merely crossed her arms and leveled her a look. She left to do the same as her friends had done. Aya smiled when Sheryll¡¯s footsteps retreated behind her. She waited impatiently as the orc came by a few minutes later, carrying a pack full of ore on her back. It still astounded Aya how their characters could lift 500 pieces of ore in one go without breaking a sweat. Granted, they were a different race with different strengths but she hadn''t expected the difference to be so great. Their levels were not that much higher than her¡¯s, early teens at the most. She shrugged. At first she had felt stupid for not requiring they take more ore but as she watched the fifth orc disappear behind the same outcrop of trees, she wasn¡¯t worried anymore. They had taken a total of 2500 ores between the five of them, exactly enough to cover her remaining trips to the smithy. Manipulation Success! Your tree flourishes. Stage I: 97% Shaking her head to dispel the self-satisfaction, she ran over to the cage and opened it. Seeing its contents, Aya had to force herself not to grind her teeth; the pick he had given her wasn¡¯t even in the cage. It was propped up against the wall right beside it. From the gleaming appearances of the others, it was quite clear why. Some of the picks had carved handles with engraved patterns on the side of the metal. They were beautiful. She took out three of the most valuable picks. They were ordered by value, simplest on the left and most ornate on the right. Slinging them over her shoulder, she realized she could take on one more and picked a random one from the middle of the selection. The orcs would be back soon and she didn''t want to be obvious about taking away the best options before they arrived. They were kids but who knows what they would do to her in a game where that didn¡¯t matter. As she quickly walked out of the mine, she realized how much stronger her training had made her. When she had first started out at the mine seven hours before, the one pick had given her trouble and here she was, carrying four at the same time. She couldn¡¯t leave them too close to the mine because someone might run into them, but if she went too far, she wouldn¡¯t be able to get them out on time. She made a decision and veered off into Layhen territory, north of the mine, in the opposite direction to the city so she wouldn¡¯t run into one of the orcs. The land was the same as the rest of the town¡¯s surroundings, a dry wasteland. It was sad to see, everything was in the process of dying. Trees were losing their leaves, creating a layer of dead leaves on the ground. Aya kicked a couple of them up in her hurry to get rid of the picks. A three-minute walk from the mine, she was trying to find a place to deposit the them when saw a little, dilapidated shed. From the broken boards, rotting and half-collapsed roof, as well as the missing door, it was quite obvious no one had used it in a long time. Aya gracelessly dumped the picks in the corner, turned around and sprinted back to the mine. Luckily, no Layhens appeared. The round trip took four minutes and she managed to get another one in, taking a random assortment of picks before she decided to wait for the Orcs to come back. It was the right decision, as they showed up not a minute later, Sherryll in tow, laughing and joking loudly to each other. Apparently the siblings had forgiven each other, as siblings do. It made her think of Rin, but she quickly pushed the thought aside and focused on the task at hand. Not in the mood to waste time with them, she hurried them inside and instructed them to choose their picks. She had taken the liberty of reordering them before they arrived so they didn¡¯t know which ones were the most valuable at first sight. She hid a grin when most of them, other than Sheryll and their leader, chose quite mediocre picks. Minutes later, they were on their way to the tunnels, their laughs and loud voices echoing off the walls long after they were gone. She hoped it didn¡¯t bring the foreman back to the entrance because for all intents and purposes, the guy was still MIA. Aya spun on her heels and continued her pick migration. With every trip, her breath came harder but she continued to push herself past her limits. Whenever she thought her legs would lock up and she wouldn¡¯t be able to continue anymore, she just remembered the foreman¡¯s face. His look of contempt, of condescension. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. In the last two trips, she wondered if she should let it be. She had already taken most of the picks and she didn¡¯t need all of them. In fact, she probably didn¡¯t need any of them but it wasn¡¯t a question of necessity. It was retribution. She loaded up on five picks during those two final trips. It took her over an hour to take all of the picks and on every trip, she kept thinking that it would be the last, the one where her luck ran out and she was caught. But that never happened. Then, at the moment she thought she would get away scot-free - in fact, the moment she got overconfident and took five picks at once - it happened. She had almost reached the abandoned shed, just visible in the dry overgrowth, when he came running out of nowhere and attacked her, winding its leather-feather covered tail around her arm and pecking away at her face. Only after she dropped the picks around her and was also brought down did she realize it was a Layhen. Lying on the ground, she considered taking out her dagger and killing it but she remembered all too well what had happened the last time she did that. She couldn¡¯t have all of the Layhens in the region attacking her out of grief. Not when she had a stash in the region. The space around her was a gaggleof leather-feathered wings and rock-hard pecks to her face. She lifted her arms up protectively around her head, but the Layhen was attached to her arm so it just went for her ears instead. Aya screamed as the pain got to her and jumped to her feet as she tried shaking her arm enough to dislodge the damn lizard bird. It just squawked in territorial defence before renewing its attack. Not able to use her dagger for fear of killing it, she tried to think of another weapon she could use to fend it off. She remembered the ropes she had untied from the sack. With chicken lizard and bag hanging off one arm she looked like a circus number as she took out the rope. She wanted to tie the bird with it but it didn¡¯t sit still for that to happen. Smacking the rope around she hit herself just as much as she did it. The rope lashes burned but she kept at it until she landed a lucky shot that put the bird out cold. Breathing heavily, she fell onto her butt as she tried to get some air. When she could breathe without sounding like an asthmatic dog, she realized she had an audience. There were over twenty Layhens in the vicinity, watching her with their coal-dark eyes. A shiver ran down her back as she jumped up defensively, holding out her arms in front of her. One arm looked quite effective, rope in hand and all. The other didn¡¯t quite measure up with a bag hanging lifelessly beside a limp body of a Layhen. She shook it, trying to get rid of the unconscious bird. When that didn''t work, she tried prying it loose with her other hand. She felt decidedly awkward doing it with all of its friends watching. After a minute, she realized it just wasn¡¯t going to happen. The tail just tightened up the more she messed with it, so instead of getting rid of it, she took a different approach. She tied it down, first tying its wings to its body, but remembering how it kept flopping around to reach her face, she also roped it around her arm. Eventually, she managed to have a poorly concocted rotisserie chicken around her arm. Its friends suddenly started clucking at her and when she returned her attention to them. She realized she didn¡¯t have a weapon anymore, with the rope used up and all. She thought they were readying themselves for attack, but instead they showed flagrant disregard for her and her arm ornament and started clucking away at their own business, pecking at the dry grass or leaving, lizard tails suspended in the air behind them. She was left standing with an unconscious chicken strapped to her arm, but when she saw the picks still scattered around her, she decided to deal with it later. It didn¡¯t weigh much so it wouldn¡¯t get in her way of transporting the picks. After dumping the five picks in the shack, she went to the mine, picked up the remaining five and returned again. When she returned to the tool cage, the only pick left in sight was the one propped up against the wall. Pursing her lips, she tried being logical but in the end, she couldn¡¯t help herself. --- After getting rid of the keys, Aya hurried into one of the tunnels, the fourth one where she had heard voices and footsteps She took her time filling the sack and bag with junk ore, as if she had been doing it the whole time. As she approached the entrance, she could hear the foreman was back. He was yelling at someone so loudly that she couldn¡¯t make out the words from how much the echoes overlapped. When he came into sight, he immediately quieted. The only sounds that followed were the echoes of his yells as they subsided along with her measured, quiet steps. He glared at her but she never looked in his direction. She kept her attention on him from the corner of her eye, but she refused to look at him and chose to wear the same stoic face she had used on him all day. Most of all though, she was afraid she would burst out laughing if she saw the solitary pick locked behind him in a cage, no key in sight. Her lip twitched at the thought, but she bit it from the inside, forcing herself to maintain composure. She couldn¡¯t give herself away at the last minute but the moment her face was out of his line of sight she dropped the blank facade and a gleeful grin spread across her face. Things couldn¡¯t have gone more smoothly but she should know better than to celebrate before the show was over. The bird chose that exact moment to wake up. Cringing, she tried to keep it quiet but it pecked at her hand. Aya tried to reason with it using quite forceful eye contact. When that didn¡¯t work, she tried shaking it into silence with her other hand. When that didn¡¯t work, the only option left to her was to let it¡¯s loud squawking ruin her previously graceful exit. ¡°Stupid bird,¡± she muttered under her breath. --- With all of the ore so much closer to town, Aya was able to finish the second half of her task in just over two hours. By the time she was finishing up, the strength and endurance stat gains were fewer and farther between. Aya made it more difficult on herself by trying to load up on more ore at once but eventually ran out of bag space. Instead of strength, she started focusing on speed again, trying to make her trips as fast as she could even while strapped down with weight. It worked to her advantage and she saw steady progress in that area as well until she made it to the nineties in terms of stat completion for level five. She knew she was going to run out of ore before she was able to level up but she was getting very close, so she started actually going for some kills. The one stat she thought she should have gained after hauling ore from the stash was patience. She tried to forget about it, but the bird remained securely attached to her arm and continued to make its presence known by its incessant screeching. By the tenth time she walked into town with the loud bird on her arm, even the townsfolk were starting to frown as she passed by. The initial strangeness and novelty of her situation had worn off and they were riding the boat of annoyance with her. Eventually, she decided it could tarnish her reputation or give her too much unwanted attention. She found a strap of leather from the countless mobs she still killed in exchange for water and tied it around its beak. The moment the loud ear-splitting screech turned into a muffled struggle, she sighed in relief. It wasn¡¯t completely quiet but she would at least be able to ignore it until she got the task done. She kept at it, watching hopefully as the pile dwindled in size. Every now and then she would encounter Xavier¡¯s other pupil progressing through the stages of learning whatever Xavier was teaching. Clenching her teeth she tried to keep her focus on her own task when on her penultimate run her inbox suddenly pinged and started flashing. She opened it to find a message from Obelisk.
Hey Kid, I wanted to tell you face to face but you never showed up at the mine again. Thankfully, Tundra and I were in the nook during the tunnel collapse so we just went right on mining but some people, like our foreman, had quite a bit of trouble today. I heard he lost the keys to the cage as well as any special rep he had with the mayor. He had to pay for all the picks out of pocket which of course he couldn¡¯t¡­. Some of that shit is damn expensive. Those special spells man¡­ I¡¯ll tell you, not easy to come by. He got really unlucky I guess, people said they saw a rock golem walking away with a couple of the picks. They say he belonged to a convict guild¡­ You wouldn¡¯t happen to know anything about that¡­ would you? ; ) Side note though, kid. If you do know something, keep your head down. Anulir (that¡¯s the foreman) is a pretty connected guy with the Truthsayers guild. Just¡­ take care of yourself. And next time you start a fight, make sure you have an army to back it up. Well anyway, Tundra is out for the day so I might as well go too. Can¡¯t all be convicts, right? : P
Aya kept thinking about the way that even Obelisk, who had come to know her a little, couldn¡¯t completely hide his contempt. She sympathized with him, especially since she wasn¡¯t guilty. However, as a prisoner herself she also sympathized with being a prisoner. Most prisons didn¡¯t allow for their inmates to play all day. Instead they gave them horrible food that only cared about caloric and nutrient intake, locked you deep underground with a bracelet that somehow messed with your perception of things, watched you twenty-four/ seven and made you play a game that encouraged violence while your pain setting was at the maximum. More than anything, she had learned that prison was physical and psychological torture. She rounded the corner to Xavier¡¯s smithy with her last load. Lost in her thoughts, she hadn¡¯t bothered to fill her flasks for the last trip and when she dumped the ore in the corner and came face to face with the other player drinking greedily out of the water barrel in the corner. Xavier was nonchalantly hammering away at another piece of red hot metal and Aya couldn¡¯t stop it when the words gushed out of her mouth like angry venom. ¡°Fifty sacks,¡± she said breathing heavily from the exertion. ¡°Now you going to be a decent human being and let me have some water or is that a courtesy reserved for¡­ others?¡± Xavier didn¡¯t say a word as continued to rhythmically mold the metal. His silence popped her bravado like a hot air balloon and she was left shifting from foot to foot uncertainly when he wiped his hands and turned to her. ¡°I admire your guts, kid,¡± he said. ¡°Go ahead, get some water.¡± He looked at the other player he was tutoring. The guy was of medium build and age, of the human race. There wasn¡¯t anything that really stood out about him, not in comparison to all the crazy options available in the game. He had black hair, brown eyes and a semi-handsome face. It was nothing to write home about. Xavier¡¯s tone of voice almost agreed with that exact sentiment when he added, ¡°However. If you expect me to teach you than I expect you to be courteous. If you disrespect me again¡­¡± Aya lowered her head in shame, clutching her hands in front of her, chicken and all. When he didn¡¯t continue she slowly raised her head and saw that he was waiting for some kind of response from her. ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± she said. There was silence, with the exception of the player slurping in the background and the chicken resisting in the foreground. ¡°... Sir,¡± she added carefully. ¡°Good,¡± he said. ¡°Well. In that case why don¡¯t we get started on purifying all that ore.¡± He walked her through a procedure where he cracked open the ore, melted it, rock and all, and then siphoned off the impurities. It wasn¡¯t a hard process just very laborious. Xavier patted her on the back as he went back to his own work, leaving her to face the tons of ore she had hauled in. ¡°Don¡¯t look so discouraged,¡± he said in a light and comforting tone. ¡°The purer the ore, the faster it goes.¡± The smile on his face was anything but benevolent. --- A/N: Just wanted to thank Jakesonfirken again for the math help last chapter. Also. Unice has been helping me recently with grammar and such. If you guys haven''t yet... you should go check out her fiction: Fantasia. It''s hilarious. So yea. Big shout out of thanks to her who I haven''t really been thanking sufficiently... at all! Oh. yea... thanks to cur as well. But he knows that. ;) Chapter 19: Excaliburing The hot air in the smithy suffocated Aya with its iron taste and burning smell. She had been at the purifying process for more than an hour and yet, there was nothing to show for it. A grand total of seven ore pieces had been purified to grant her trace amounts of iron and silver. The mountain of ore loomed, seemingly infinite, beside her. The task wouldn¡¯t have bothered her if it was at least helping her with her stat goal. Unfortunately, the last hour had proven useless on that front as well, giving her a measly three precision stats, a number she could gain in a fraction of the time with pen and paper. Aya considered her options. She could buy the amount of ore she needed to purify. If her calculations were right, that meant about two hundred pounds of ore. Even buying only the cheapest iron ore, it would cost more than she could afford. The only things she had of value didn¡¯t exactly belong to her and she knew better than to peddle stolen goods when people were still actively looking for them. Growing up on the wrong side of the tracks, she knew all too well how the process worked. While she was still thinking of a solution, Xavier logged out without warning. Left alone in the room with the other apprentice, whose name turned out to be BurningIce, she thought about trying to use him somehow. His purifying process went much faster than hers and his skill level allowed him to process a greater quantity in a shorter amount of time. Unfortunately, when she approached him to talk, he also logged out after a few words. Standing alone in the small smithy, two of the three fires dying from lack of fuel, she could breathe again for the first time in what felt like years. Checking her stat progress, she saw that she was already at 96%. She decided to go on a small hunt to grow her stats and simultaneously level up. Stepping out of the smithy, she was hit with a blast of cool air. Looking up at the sky, she saw that as always, there were no clouds in sight and the sun was just as merciless as ever. She had been cooped up in the smithy for so long that the summer weather felt cool. Running toward the town gates, she opened up the Era forums, searching for a way to get metal ore faster. Aya could see it as a semi-translucent screen in her field of vision. Its size, transparency and location in front of her could be changed. She minimized it to about a quarter of the width of her field of vision and posted it on the right side with high transparency so it wouldn¡¯t get in her way. Skimming most of the posts by title, she started a quick process of elimination. Many of the posts linked to trade sites so she quickly narrowed the search down to the processing of the ore itself. Even if she did buy ore from someone to replace what she needed, there was also the slight problem of two and a half tonnes of ore sitting around. She refused to lift another bag. She killed beast after beast, increasing stats, SharpSight and Bleed skill proficiencies and gaining EXP all at the same time. While gathering up loot and searching for her next target, she continued to browse the forums with very little luck until she came across a very peculiar post. Thread created by: SpearFace - 7/02/XXXX ROCKYNO¡¯S SHIT SpearFace: OMG. Guys. You¡¯re not gonna believe this. The frigging Rockyno¡¯s shit ... Purified ore. No shit¡­ well. Actually yes shit.. But you know what I mean. I was carrying a cart of ore the other day when a herd or Rockyno¡¯s came literally out of nowhere. I obviously hightailed it out of there, but when I came back. Lo and behold¡­ every single piece of ore was gone. Crazy right? I was pissed for a while too, but when I went back the next day¡­ I use the same route and all¡­ I saw a bunch of their shit laying around right¡­ and one of them was shining in the light¡­ Just so you understand why I was rifling through shit in the first place. But anyway! I found FRIGGIN ORE. And like¡­ the purest ore. 100%. I¡¯m at level 27 in purifying and I dunno about you guys but the closest I get even now is 98%... if im lucky. It¡¯s fucking crazy. Aya¡¯s brows drew together as she remembered the beasts she had targeted with Donovan. The size of a small mule, they loomed over her petite figure. They were brute beasts that trampled everything in their path. The stretches of desert wasteland looked even more devastated after they went through it, leaving deep hoof grooves in their wake and the discarded broken remnants of any dry brittle brush that had survived the drought that long. Her doubts were mirrored by others as she read the replies to the post. Tremblage: Yea right. SpearFace: Try it out dude. LavaLamp: Holy Shit! Dude was right¡­ the fucking mobs go crazy for that shit. So insane. Tremblage: OMG IT WORKS. Aya hadn¡¯t seen them eat anything while Donovan had her fight them, but the more she thought about their physiology, the more it made sense that they were not simple grazers. They had massive mouths that sported two rows of thick, wide teeth and their jaws were supported by bundles of muscles that could probably crush a human¡¯s skull if it wanted to. In turn though, they also didn¡¯t have any fangs or any other form of predatory appendages like tusks or horns. In fact, they were geared for defence, their thick concrete-gray skin formed of plate-like scales that folded into each other as they moved, making it very hard to get at them. Aya knew this all too well. Donovan had chosen them as a target because it required both strength and precision to bring one of them down. Their only weaknesses were the little crevices where their scales folded into themselves. Caught up in reading, Aya didn¡¯t notice when the Layhen woke up. It had gone unconscious almost the moment she entered the smithy. She only noticed it after Xavier had taught her the purifying process but she had taken the opportunity to try and pry it off of her arm again. Unfortunately, even in slumber, the thing wouldn¡¯t let go. With its revival came its usual aggressive attempt to hurt her. Not that it ever gave up, but it did tire itself out at times. Aya held her arm away from herself, waiting for it to calm down with the restraints around it. For a minute it worked and she kept reading the replies. Loli: Never thought I¡¯d voluntarily dig through shit in my life! *gets on hands and knees* Shafter: Yeah baby! Get down for me. SordidAf: Yeah, only problem is you gotta wait around for a bunch of beasts to take a shit and who knows how long that takes. Even with the long, drawn-out process, Aya realized it would be a much faster way to purify her ore. At her current rate, it would take her over a week to finish it. Starting to get excited about the potential shortcut, she tried to finish reading the post quickly. Unfortunately, she was interrupted by painful scratching on her still-outstretched arm. Immediately shifting her attention to the Layhen, she saw that it had somehow managed to wiggle around so its clawed feet were facing her arm instead of the air above it. It was viciously scratching at her like she was a plowing ground. Blood was already starting to trickle down her arm by the time she managed to secure both feet with her other hand and forcefully twist it around. She thought it was over and shifted her eyes to glare at the Layhen in time to see its mysteriously-free beak zero in on the wrist of the hand that held the stupid claws. ¡°MOTHERFUmmmmrrr¡­!¡± she screamed. ¡°You little piece of shit!¡± Her outburst didn¡¯t affect it in the least as it continued to peck at her. She released the claws to get ahold of the head but when she did that, the Layhen immediately stretched its claws out to get at her biceps. ¡°Arrrghhh!!¡± she yelled, shaking it viciously. ¡°That hurts, you know!¡± It didn¡¯t reply vocally but continued to land a scratch every now and then, even with her furious attempts at shaking it into submission. Unfortunately, that also resulted in the loosening of its ropes and it started to get free. She quickly dropped to her knees and unforgivingly bashed the head she still had a hold of into the hard, dry ground. It squawked, but continued its vicious fight, tightening its grip around her arm so her circulation slowed painfully. ¡°Let!¡± she screamed, bashing its head into the ground. ¡°Go!¡± she yelled. ¡°Of! A muffled thump followed her outburst as its head once again was acquainted with the ground. ¡°Me!¡± The grip loosened. Surprised, Aya calmed down enough to look at the Layhen she was still veritably strangling. Its coal black eyes stared stoically back. She had the weird sensation it was agreeing to a ceasefire. Her hands slowly loosened around its neck and it squawked. Afraid it meant another attack, she was about to tighten her grip again when it stretched its wings and hopped down beside her. She was still on her knees and its tail was still wound around her right forearm, but it stood about a foot away, looking at her with awkward determination. Aya did not know what it meant or what it wanted. It squawked again. ¡°Oh yeaaaa,¡± she said, sarcasm dripping off her words. ¡°Now that makes perfect sense.¡± It didn¡¯t respond. ¡°Squaaaaawk,¡± she imitated shrilly. It didn¡¯t take its blank eyes off of her. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ kinda creeping me out, Hen.¡± It flapped its wings twice, craning its neck up high before it settled down again. ¡°So¡­¡± she said, feeling a little weird to be negotiating with a bird. ¡°We good now?¡± There was no response. ¡°Of course there¡¯s no frigging response.¡± She rolled her eyes, slumped over onto the ground and decided to finish reading the post before she figured out what to do about the Hen. ¡°You¡¯re exhausting,¡± she said, she was rewarded with the same blank, black stare. Tremblage: Anywhere from 4-22 hours. Loli: -_- Fuckin trolls. ListenUp: WTF!!!! You actually sat around waiting for those things! You¡¯re fucking insane. Not worth it guys. Much faster if you just level up your skill. I¡¯m at level 50 in purifying and most of the Level I ores like copper, iron, silver, gold and so forth¡­ It¡¯s quite standard to get 100%... in a matter of seconds. Stop being lazy and train your fucking skills people. This is the reason you all sucks so bad. Absolutely no dedication. Intrigued, she wanted to try it out. Donovan had warned her about Rockynos, saying that unless you knew you were going to win you shouldn¡¯t attack. Donovan assured her the stampede was one of the worst ways to die in the game and if a kid with a minimized pain setting was complaining about it, she sure didn¡¯t want to try it out for herself. Thinking about pain, she was rewarded with her own dose when the Hen attacked her again out of nowhere. Unfortunately, since she was unguardedly sitting with her hands propped up on the knees, it had the most direct access to her face it ever had. It mercilessly took advantage of this, pecking viciously at her face, even eyes, before she could reach her right hand away from her face and her left hand to fight it off. With scratches burning on her face and arms, and a LayHen flapping in her hands, her blood was boiling. Fists clenching uncaringly around its leathery body, Aya stood up, putting her whole weight on the chicken below her hands as she did so. She tightened her hands around it¡¯s body savagely. ¡°I tried to be nice, Hen,¡± she said through clenched teeth. ¡°But you give me no other choice.¡± She stared at its unchanging soulless black eyes as she walked toward the nearest tree. Balling its body up with both hands, she positioned herself in front of the tree, imagined herself on a pitcher''s mound, wound her body up, using both hands to hold on to the Hen before she launched it straight into the solid tree, making sure her arm followed through so the Hen wouldn¡¯t bungee back into her face. It hit with a satisfying thump, then fell down like a lifeless sack of poultry to hang limply from her arms, wings drooping down lower than its body. Seeing it dangle with such innocent harmlessness, she pursed her lips in remorse and said, ¡°I did warn you.¡± Turning around and walking to the initial sight of the fight, she found the rope again and she secured the bird once more, making doubly and then triply sure it was secure. ¡°There you go little guy¡­¡± she said, considering it. ¡°Girl?¡± She lifted its feathers, trying to find a source of gender identification. When it wasn¡¯t immediately apparent, she felt awkward feeling up a defenseless bird and put her hand aside. With burning cheeks, she quickly opened the forum up, trying to find more information about LayHens. She started feeling awkward about feeling awkward but was then distracted by the total lack of information there was to be found about LayHens. Most of the posts made by other players just talked about how annoying and useless the creatures were. Surprisingly, she found a post about another player having a similar attachment situation with a LayHen himself. The player ended up cutting off part of his arm with the intention of regrowing it with a spell, but before he could even get to that his particular LayHen just attached itself to his thigh. That created a whole other, more sensitive, problem in itself. In the end he killed the beast, but unfortunately its tail released toxins into his bloodstream where it was in contact with his own body and he also died. For some reason Aya hadn¡¯t even considered killing the Hen after she had left its territory. Thinking about it, it seemed the most straightforward action to take, but she was glad she hadn¡¯t thought of it. She had no desire to die a painful death from poison. Closing the forums, she turned her attention back to her LayHen and sighed in resignation. ¡°I guess it¡¯s till death do us part Hen...ry,¡± she said, as she continued her hunt for mobs. ¡°You can understand my hesitation to form such an eternal bond with a female, right Henry?¡± The strapped, unconscious LayHen did not reply. No blank eyes stared back at her. ¡°I mean come on, man,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m in a female prison with thousands of other women. That¡¯s more than enough oestrogen in my life, if you ask me.¡± --- It took her another hour of concentrated hunting to finally get to level six with 99% stat completion. By the time she started heading back to town, her bag was loaded up with so much loot that she could barely carry it, and she was filthy. The grime that covered her just kept piling on, layer after layer. The Bleed skill was not a very clean one, and even as she did get better in getting out of the blood¡¯s way, she didn¡¯t manage it every time. With sticky wet blood on her body, the dry dust in the occasional slaps of wind found a new home on her. In desperate need of a shower, she was hopeful as she hunted down merchants to trade loot with. Xavier¡¯s water barrell was locked out. In the end, she managed to get a substantial amount of money, a little over one gold. It was more money than she had held at one time in the game. Her usual trips to the mine had never even given her half the amount. Then again, they had never been that long. She made her way to the pot-bellied water vendor, intending to take a bath. However, on the way, she saw a bag for sale. It was sturdier, bigger and lighter than the one she had gotten from Will. Unable to resist, she ended up spending most of her money on it. Putting it away, she saw that Henry was awake, staring at her with his blank eyes. She stared back. ¡°Oh shut up,¡± she said under her breath, aware of her surroundings. ¡°It¡¯s not like that. I just needed more storage space for loot, that¡¯s all.¡± She had never spent much money in the real world; she had never had the luxury to. In the game though, she didn¡¯t have that same cloud of responsibility hanging over her head, at least not in terms of where the money must be spent. Instead, it centered around her ability to perform. She wasn¡¯t quite sure how exactly it was being evaluated, but since Sid had mentioned levels, it must be at least partly centered around strength. Considering the reason the warden wanted convicts to play for him, she was quite certain that the monetary aspect also mattered greatly. ¡°It¡¯s an investment for future returns,¡± she justified firmly as she stood in line for water. However, deep down, she knew that the real reason she wanted the bag was to exercise a freedom she had denied herself for so long. Era had high stakes attached to it for sure, but she was slowly coming to realize that it allowed her to be herself, something she hadn¡¯t been since the day of her parents¡¯ accident. --- After using the remainder of her money to buy four flasks of water, she went back to the smithy. She thought long and hard about how to best transport the ore. It was obvious that her character was not made for heavy lifting. She would either have to find someone to do it for her or she would have to find a way to bring the Rockyno¡¯s to the smithy. As she walked around the cramped room, she realized that it was a stupid idea. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Rummaging around the smithy for ideas, she came across a small wooden hand cart in the back. Before she could get too excited, she realized she couldn¡¯t even move it from its spot. She was too weak. Aya had never been strong in the real world, but her body in the virtual one was even less suited for anything related to force. Sitting on top of one of the smaller ore piles, the silver one, she tossed an ore back and forth between her hands. She needed to start thinking strategically. Without Donovan, she didn¡¯t have any real firepower. It was time she dropped the independent act and used the resources around her, the other players. She couldn¡¯t think of a way to get them to do what she wanted. The mine method would not work again; the picks were now stolen goods and the foreman and possibly other people, would be looking for them. They would have to remain hidden in the meantime. That was what she told herself, but she also knew that she didn¡¯t want to give her hard-earned loot away so easily. Henry strained against his bonds. ¡°I know,¡± she said as she stroked his leathery feathers to calm him down. ¡°There¡¯s gotta be a diff¡ª¡± The bird suddenly started vehemently struggling to get loose, but the ropes were too tight for him to move a single feather. Aya watched him stoically, partly in pity, partly in resignation. The staredown lasted quite a while, Aya propping her left elbow on her knee and leaning her face on it as she waited for him to give up. Eventually, after a lot of useless struggle, he did. ¡°Look man,¡± she said, sighing. ¡°It¡¯s not like I want you strapped to my arm either. So why don¡¯t you just let go. Then you can go home or find someone else to both¡ª¡± Setting her hand down, she straightened her posture as she thought about the implications of her words. Her eyes clouded in concentration and she nibbled on the inside of her lip. It was a nervous habit but it didn¡¯t last long. ¡°That¡¯s it!¡± she shouted out of nowhere, jumping to her feet. A massive grin was plastered across her face. ¡°Now,¡± she said, directing her excited attention to Henry, ¡°let¡¯s go see if we can Excalibur your ass.¡± --- Two hours later Aya stood in the middle of Durrenheim¡¯s market place on top of an abandoned wooden crate she found. It allowed her short stature to reach almost normal proportions as she tried to catch the attention of the players around her. ¡°Fifty gold!¡± she shouted with the loudest voice she could muster, trying to draw in an audience with the reward she was offering. It was hard parting ways with one of her hard earned picks, but when she saw Curiana packing up her things to leave, she knew it would be one of her only chances to peddle the item without local repercussions. She had run to her hiding spot, taking a longer route around through LayHen territory in order to avoid any other players. With so much focus on her destination, she completely ignored her usual mob-hunts. She was surprised how many speed stats her completely time-fixated run gave her. ¡°To anyone who can take this LayHen off of me!¡± she yelled, raising her right arm to exhibit the firmly attached beast. Right before she made it back to town, she ran into Curiana, who was already leaving Durrenheim. Her cart was rattling along the cobbled road, being slowly pulled along by a long-haired buffalo. Although willing to take the pick off her hands, Curiana had insisted on a trade instead of a direct money buy. Aya traded the pick in for a red ruby that Curiana guaranteed she could sell at Tuni¡¯s stall for over seventy gold. ¡°No catch!¡± she yelled. ¡°Gold in your pocket. Immediately. No delays or caveats!¡± Aya was still a little annoyed at herself, so while she waved at and directed her attention to all those around her, she avoided the general direction of Tuni¡¯s stall. After taking the gem there, the woman had bargained and bargained and in the end, Aya had only walked away with fifty gold. Over twenty less than the promised seventy. She had received a notification from her lovely gatekeeper, Hathorne, immediately compensating her for her efforts. He had, as always, been none too subtle about what he thought of the exchange, giving her less than he had the last time she screwed up a negotiation. ¡°Fifty gold, people!¡± she shouted. ¡°Literally free. If you lose, you don¡¯t owe me a cent¡­ if you don¡¯t want to. I accept payment in form of your own fifty gold¡­ but,¡± she said lowering her voice to talk to the small crowd that she had managed to gather around herself. ¡°You can also pay your debt back just by carrying 500 pieces of ore less than a mile away.¡± No one had taken her up on her offer yet, but she was finally being able to create some attention around her. At first, it hadn¡¯t worked at all; her height didn¡¯t permit it. It had taken the old crate she stood on for people to start seeing and listening to her. It was sad that even standing on the crate, over a foot tall , she only barely reached other people¡¯s height. Sometimes she forgot just how small the game had made her. ¡°You!¡± she yelled, raising her voice back to its propagandizing volume. ¡°You look like a strong man!¡± she motioned her right arm at a muscled Taurus player. The convict symbol glowed vividly above his horned head and she he would be capable of carrying more than 500 pieces of ore in one go, a perfect specimen to hook people. Aya let an excited smile take over her face when the player showed interest, it was much easier dealing with convicts like her. She looked at the players around her, less than a handful were convicts. ¡°You can probably take this chicken off of me without batting an eyelash¡­¡± she said, again motioning to Henry who was still firmly attached to her arm. ¡°Wait¡­ Do Tauruses even have eyelashes?¡± There was a small chuckled response from the crowd. ¡°You know what?¡± she asked amicably, feeding off of the crowd¡¯s energy. ¡°If you take the chance and go first. If you manage to get it off me, I¡¯ll straight out give you the fifty gold. No strings attached. And if you don¡¯t¡­ well. Don¡¯t worry about it, I won¡¯t charge gold or labor from you either¡­ I¡¯ll consider it your entrepreneurial fee.¡± The taurus didn¡¯t look like he wanted any part in her apparent scam. His reticence was making the crowd around him also a bit uneasy. Noticing the slight shift in behavior she added, ¡°I¡¯ll even throw in the chicken¡­¡± Henry chose that moment to wrangle free of his gag and squawked. The crowd laughed, its previous mood returning. For once, Aya was grateful for the chicken¡¯s unfortunately persistent personality. She smiled brightly, assimilating herself with the crowd she wanted to persuade. It was a fake friendliness she was used to from her years of being a cashier. Why people thought she wanted to know about their lives, she would never know. Bolstered by the crowd¡¯s animated cheers, even knowing their convict status, the Taurus stomped up to Aya and loomed over her crate-assisted height. The height differential made the man stand there, uncertain of how to proceed. Aya lifted her right arm straight up to give him easy access. ¡°Go ahead, he¡¯s all yours.¡± Henry squawked and began another vigorous attempt to loosen himself from his bonds. ¡°Oh, right,¡± she said, lowering her arm again to remove the rope that held him down. Quickly unwinding it, she held him down with her left hand before presenting it to the Taurus. ¡°Watch out,¡± she warned. ¡°When he get¡¯s loose he¡¯s quite the handful¡­¡± The player looked skeptical, but took hold of Henry anyway. At first, he tried prying the bird off by merely pulling on him. Unfortunately, it made Aya fall off the crate and be pulled along with her arm. He then tried prying the tail off directly after asking for permission from Aya. Then his attempts degraded into the comical as his persistence pushed him to ever more ludicrous removal ideas. The crowd was drinking it up. Taking turns clapping, laughing and shouting out suggestions for what he should try next. After another five straight minutes of trying and failing, the player gave up. His fur was sweat-streaked and his bovine nostrils were breathing rapidly. ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± he puffed. Aya shrugged and held Henry firmly with her left hand after the player let go. ¡°I don¡¯t blame you, I¡¯ve been trying for the last five days,¡± she exaggerated. ¡°Why do you think I¡¯ve resorted to this?¡± The taurus laughed, his large chest shaking with amusement before he took a look at the crowd around him. It was a mixture of convicts and non-convicts. ¡°You know what?¡± he joked, using the same tone to ask the question she had. ¡°I¡¯ll take that ore for you. I¡¯ll even take a thousand. Show me where you want it.¡± Aya sent him a map by swiping at her interface while she asked, ¡°But why?¡± ¡°Cuz this was fun¡­ and that¡¯s how much I can take in one trip. I didn¡¯t choose to look like a cow for nothing,¡± he joked. ¡°It¡¯s why you¡¯re doing this whole street thing in the first place isn¡¯t it?¡± Aya momentarily returned her attention to the crowd around her. There was already a little line forming of people that wanted their own go at Henry. She returned the guy¡¯s smile and sent him on his way, nodding her thanks to him before she turned her attention to the first person in line. What followed was much of the same. Player after player tried their hand at dislodging Henry from her arm. After numerous attempts they would inevitably fail and be on their way to transporting her ore. Some higher-level players also gave it a go and chose to straight out pay her in gold instead of wasting their time transporting her ore. Every time they did this, she would double the reward - and penalty - accordingly and the crowd around her would grow exponentially. Soon, she was offering four hundred gold, a quarter of the marketplace was gathered around her and she only needed two more people to carry 500 pieces of ore each. Luckily for her, the next in line to have a go at Henry was actually a group of three convicts. They asked sneakily if they could try it as a group, Aya just smiled and said they could do whatever they wanted as long as they each carried their own 500 pieces of ore if and when they failed. A sinister smile covered all three of their faces, verifying her suspicions that they wanted to slip by on a technicality. Unfortunately for them, she was the queen of technicalities. She let the same smile cover her own face when minutes later they were on their way to her ore. Fortunately, the game prevented players from going back on their word. Their health regeneration would completely stop and they would even start losing health points if they tried to prioritize other actions before completing their agreements. No longer needing to continue her excaliburization of Henry, Aya considered closing shop, but seeing the crowd gathered around her, she decided to do one last round. ¡°All right people, settle down,¡± she yelled when people were already getting ready to take their own turn at Henry. ¡°Unfortunately, I don¡¯t have any more ore available. So if you want your own shot at four hundred gold, you¡¯ve gotta be willing to cough up the same amount.¡± The crowd was immediately not as gregarious as before. ¡°Last chance! Who¡¯s gonna be the one to take the last try at four hundred gold?¡± The crowd started backing up and she wondered if she wondered if she had pushed too far when an elf stepped up to the plate. He was covered from head to toe in gleaming platinum gold armour with gems embedded along the artistic engravings that declared his entire outfit as one set. It was the most expensive thing she had seen in the game that far. ¡°Can I use magic?¡± he asked simply. ¡°You can do anything you want¡­¡± she answered loudly so the remaining crowd could hear. ¡°As long as you don¡¯t kill me or the chicken in the process.¡± ¡°Alright,¡± he said with finality, his pointed ears flattening backwards as he moved his hands to cast a spell. In seconds, the air around him was glowing with runes that grew outwards in a circular pattern as he mumbled words under his breath. Before she could brace herself, she was hit with a sudden wall of cold that emanated from her right arm. Henry was immediately subdued and she dropped her hand to prevent unnecessary exposure to the cold. Aya watched as a cord of blue light stretched from Henry to the elf. The player stood up and started pulling on the rope that grew brighter and brighter with every foot that he gathered. She felt as Henry grew weaker and weaker under the spell, his tail tightening more and more around her arm. At first, she could only feel the pain of the loss of circulation but soon, she was feeling a different kind of pain. It burned hotter and hotter even though the spell was cold. Confused, she looked at her arm, trying to discern the source of the pain, where she could suddenly see black veins start growing and spreading under her skin. Aya¡¯s eyes widened with immediate realization. ¡°Stop!¡± she yelled, trying to pull her arm back from the cord of blue light. ¡°Let go, you¡¯re killing him!¡± The elf hesitated for an instant, but dropped his hands and the cord dissolved into blue particles of light that dissolved into the air. ¡°Well, what do you want me to do?¡± ¡°I already said, you can do whatever you want as long as you don¡¯t kill him or cut his tail off.¡± The elf crossed his arms in annoyance, but after seeing the still-gathered crowd, he decided not to make a scene and cast another spell. Then another, and another and another. Not one of them worked and with each failure, the crowd grew smaller until he gave up with the spells and went back to the more physical approach everyone else had taken. Five minutes later, there was no one else to see his failure. He pursed his lips, obviously unhappy with having been conned by someone of a much lower level, paid her four hundred gold and left. Aya smiled and pocketed the money before stashing the old wooden crate where she had found it by the side of the street. She started making her way to Durrenheim¡¯s bank when she came across the last ore trio. Without the crate, their vantage point was much higher than hers. Before she could worry about what they wanted from her, the only female of the group said, ¡°That¡¯s a lot of ore you had there.¡± The woman was human with pitch black hair and brown, almond-shaped gypsy eyes. She was beautiful and with her abundant upper corporal existence, the presence of her two human male warrior-type sidekicks was promptly explained. Going by the leather clothes she wore that were glued to her like skin, she wasn¡¯t averse to using her looks to her advantage. Aya smiled, remembering how she had been doing just the same since she had adapted her very child-like body. Fortunately, her approach wasn¡¯t as obvious and direct as the woman¡¯s. ¡°Yeah,¡± Aya answered. ¡°Had a little problem with a smith¡­ He didn¡¯t much appreciate the¡­¡± she motioned to the glowing convict symbol above her head. All three nodded sympathetically, before the woman said, ¡°Yea, we get you. That¡¯s why we are here, actually¡­¡± They waited, expecting some kind of response from Aya so she said, ¡°Okay?¡± ¡°You¡¯re new right?¡± ¡°Yeah¡­¡± she wondered if they were going to get to the point anytime soon. ¡°Have you considered joining a convict guild?¡± ¡°Convict guild?¡± ¡°Yea, we know what it¡¯s like having to deal with the regular players¡­¡± she motioned to the players walking around the marketplace around them. Suddenly her inbox flashed red. Thinking they had sent her a guild invitation or something the like, she swiped her interface open to see a completely different kind of invitation. You have been invited to Count Vincent¡¯s Birthday Dinner! You may bring up to four others to complete your party. Time of Party: 1 hour from now Attire: Formal For a moment, Aya was caught off guard, but the name Vincent seemed very familiar to her and she quickly placed it to the pompous water merchant. When she remembered the three convict players still talking to her she looked up to find them waiting impatiently. ¡°Sorry about that, I was distracted by the invitation,¡± she said, thinking everyone had been invited. They looked around uncertainly at each other, obviously thinking one of them had invited her to their guild. ¡°I mean the birthday dinner invitation¡­¡± ¡°Whose?¡± one of her sidekicks asked. ¡°Count Vincent. He¡¯s the guy that¡ª¡± ¡°Sells water in the square.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°But why were you invited to one of his parties? He only invites aristocracy and some of the mayor¡¯s lapdogs.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she said shrugging, She regretted having brought up the subject. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna go anyway, so it doesn¡¯t matter.¡± ¡°Why not!?¡± the woman asked incredulously. ¡°Oh¡­ I don¡¯t¡­ have formal attire,¡± Aya said as an excuse. ¡°Oh, good!¡± the woman exclaimed, obviously excited. Before Aya could react, she grabbed her hand and yanked her along with her. ¡°I have lots! And I love a good party. It¡¯s gonna be fun you¡¯ll see.¡± Falling into step behind the much taller woman and her sidekicks, Aya was soon dragged along the dry, uneven roads of Durrenheim. Her push-over childish appearance didn¡¯t always work the way Aya wanted. ¡°I¡¯m Furia, by the way.¡± ¡°Aya,¡± she responded with resignation. ¡°This will be great!¡± Furia exclaimed, apparently unaware of Aya¡¯s lack of desire to team up with them. ¡°It will give me a chance to show you around the guild. You¡¯re just gonna love it! I can tell.¡± Chapter 20: Requested Stomping and pulling away, Aya tried to break free of the guard¡¯s iron grip as he moved, unperturbed, down a long hallway. His long, sturdy strides weren¡¯t affected by her turbulent wriggling in the least. She was resenting the fact that the man had chosen her left arm to hold on to. If he had chosen the other, she would have had Henry fighting in her corner as well. ¡°Look,¡± she pleaded as he guided her down the dark rock hallway. ¡°I didn¡¯t do it!¡± Her words solicited absolutely no reaction from the man. He was coated from head to toe with the same gleaming armor she had seen on the guards on her way in and out of town. She could see her reflection in the metal every couple of yards, when they passed by a torch that made a measly attempt to light the somber place. ¡°I swear,¡± she appealed, trying to use her childish looks to her advantage. ¡°I didn¡¯t even know it was in there, it¡¯s not even my dress!¡± The green velvet was still hugging her in all the places a woman¡¯s dress should. Unfortunately, it made her look like a Lolita, trying to display womanly features she did not possess. At the time, when Furia had shown her the dress and personally fitted it to her body, she had thought it beautiful. It was a sleeveless dress that was held up by a single strap over her left shoulder. The entire dress was embroidered with golden thread, which created beautiful floral patterns all along the wide skirt. She couldn¡¯t deny that she felt like a princess and after Furia had offered her a bath, she couldn¡¯t help but feel like the woman was the best friend she ever had. The dress reminded her of the prom she never had the chance to attend, not when there was Rin to look after. At the time, it had been one of the nicest things that anyone had done for her in a very long time. She should have known better. Aya tugged repeatedly at her arm until she realized it was a pointless action. Looking back down the tunnel they had come from, she knew her small legs would never let her outrun the man beside her. Suddenly deflated, she dropped her arm along with any attempt at escape. The cards had been dealt and it was time to come to terms with the fact that lemonade was going to have to be her drink of choice for the foreseeable future. The guard glanced in her direction, caught off guard by her sudden lack of struggle. His grip around her arm tightened, as if suspicious of her intentions. Aya sighed but let him continue to lead her down the unending tunnel. A couple minutes later, they came across steps and followed a staircase down. The steps were worn in the middle where numerous people had passed through the years. It reminded Aya of the ancient beauty of the count¡¯s house. The high ceilings, crown moldings, chandeliers and beautiful designs painted precisely on the walls. The banquet had been the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She had expected a sit-down dinner but the festivities had been more akin to a ball. There hadn¡¯t been many players present; most of the guests had been NPCs. Aya finally realized why the trio had been so excited about attending the party with her. She sighed, despairing over her own naivete. Head slumped down, she tripped over her feet when the staircase came to an end and she was handed off to another guard. Looking up, she saw a corridor lined by cells on each side. About half of them were occupied. As the new guard continued down the aisle, she couldn¡¯t help a bout of giggles that escaped. It took playing a game in prison for her to enter what she actually thought prisons were supposed to look like, with unhappy inmates glaring at her through rusty metal bars. The guard eyed her suspiciously as he pushed her into a cell and locked the door behind him. He didn¡¯t linger after the lock fell into place with a loud clang. Looking around her cell, she snorted at the irony of the whole situation before walking to a corner of her cell and sliding to the rough rock ground. Leaning her head against the wall, she stared blankly at the ceiling, waiting for time to pass. 99 Hours : 58 Minutes : 45 Seconds Until Verdict Is Passed There was nothing else she could do. ¡°For now,¡± she whispered hoarsely. In the dark corner of a solitary cell, no one could see the steely look in her eyes. No one but Henry. For once, he chose to hold his peace. --- Two game hours later, Chris received the dinner notification and logged out. Her mood from the game carried over to real life and she followed the guard that lined them up mutely to the cafeteria. She paid no attention to the setting sun on the walls or the fresh mountain breeze in the air. Her mind was elsewhere and she mechanically followed those in front of her. First she got a tray, then her b-link calculated her nourishment needs and the machine dispensed the same gray slop she had for breakfast. ¡°So how was it!?¡± a shrill voice suddenly spoke up beside her. Chris looked over mutely, finding a head of red-streaked brown hair looking at her expectantly. ¡°Tiring,¡± she said honestly. ¡°You?¡± ¡°It was great!¡± Yaz said excitedly, following Chris to a table she randomly chose to sit at. ¡°Oh yea?¡± Chris asked, tastelessly shoving the food into her mouth. It still tasted bad but nothing compared to her lunch feast. ¡°I did exactly what you said! Schliessheim is just like you said it would be! There were only like¡­ ten other people that started out there today,¡± she said, waving her arms around exuberantly. ¡°It was so great. I never actually followed the game¡¯s quest paths before, you know?¡± Chris nodded, trying to focus on the girl¡¯s talking. Her hands worked on shoveling her food while she kept her eyes targeted at Yaz. She hoped it would help with concentrating on the there and then as opposed to the game. ¡°¡­ Like that¡¯s how it¡¯s supposed to be played you know!?¡± Chris nodded, realizing she had missed a couple of her words here and there. ¡°So I started out with that intro quest, and at first I was like ugh this is gonna be such a draaaag! But then¡­ I followed the quests, you know? And they sorta linked up, one after the other, and soon enough, I was banking some serious cash, EXP and scoring with my gatekeeper all at once.¡± Chris swallowed the mouthful of gruel like a ton of bricks, fearing the rest of the monologue. ¡°In the beginning, I really wanted to team up with some people, you know? But the initial quests are, like you said, mostly solitary,¡± she stopped momentarily to put some food into her mouth as well. ¡°Ugh. This stuff is vile¡­ Oh yea! I can¡¯t believe you drank one of those pukepacks for lunch! That¡¯s like¡­ so hardcore. I couldn¡¯t even look at the things without getting queazy. Guess you got some more game time in, though. What level did you end up at?¡± Thankfully, Chris already had a spoonful of gruel halfway to her mouth, so she simply shoved it in, making the same face of disgust she had seen Yaz make seconds before. ¡°Ugh. I know right!?¡± she sympathized. ¡°Well anyway, I was actually kind of dunno¡­ lonely, I guess, you know? It¡¯s crazy how much the regs don¡¯t like us convict players.¡± Chris nodded emphatically, trying to keep the conversation going in the same direction. ¡°They¡¯re so aggravating.¡± ¡°No kidding,¡± the woman to Yaz¡¯s left interjected loudly before going back to her own gruel. ¡°But like, doesn¡¯t really matter cuz you can totally work around them,¡± Yaz continued more boisterously when she saw she had an audience. ¡°There are so many convict players¡­ only shame is they all have super restricted playing hours. I mean¡­ with ten game hours a day¡­ what can you really get done, right?!¡± Chris didn¡¯t even bother answering. Knowing the monologue would continue with or without her she focused on getting her food down. Her eyes wandered to the edge of the cafeteria where a group of convicts had just left to E-block. It would take them another ten minutes or so to gather another group. If she didn¡¯t go with the next one, she would have to wait an additional ten minutes. Chris looked back at Yaz, who was still talking. She needed to spend as little time as possible with the girl. ¡°Then around level seven, the quests started getting way more group-oriented. You know? ¡± she continued in the same loud voice. ¡°I started out just needing one or two partners but soon I had to like, build parties. It¡¯s actually kind of cool how the AI guides you through all that stuff, right?¡± Yaz looked excitedly at some of the convicts beside her. They glared at her. Surprised, she shrank into herself a bit before she directed her attention to her plate and shoveling some more gruel. Looking back at them, she lowered her voice a little and continued. ¡°Well anyway. It was okay cuz like¡­ it helped me find a guild.¡± ¡°Oh yea?¡± Chris asked, sitting up a little straighter in her chair. ¡°What guild?¡± ¡°Well, its really not every guild that accepts cons you know?¡± ¡°Yea¡­¡± ¡°So like¡­ It¡¯s not like I had much choice,¡± Yaz said between mouthfuls. ¡°It was either Jailbait or Serving Time.¡± Chris¡¯s spine tensed and she focused on carefully chewing her food so her lips wouldn¡¯t contort with anger. ¡°Which one did you end up with?¡± Chris asked with forced apathy. ¡°Well, at first I really wasn¡¯t sure, right?¡± she pointed her spork around, proving an unidentifiable point. ¡°I was gonna wait to ask you over lunch but you¡¯d already logged back in¡­ so then I met this other chick¡­¡± Yaz raised her head, as if suddenly remembering something and looked around the room to find it. When her search stretched into a couple of seconds, she shook her head slightly and shrugged. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. ¡°Oh well, doesn¡¯t matter,¡± she said before taking another sad attempt at the gruel. Her spork loads were midget sized; if they didn¡¯t grow any bigger, it would take her all night to finish her b-link allotted portion. It was visibly greener than Chris¡¯s and a part of her mind wondered what nutrient differences there were between the two. ¡°You¡¯ll meet her soon enough,¡± Yaz continued after another nibble. ¡°You¡¯re gonna love her. She actually hooked me up with Izmeltine, a con in Era. She¡¯s the one who recruited me into Serving Time.¡± Chris¡¯ jaw locked and she almost bit her tongue with her pent-up frustration. ¡°But yea, it¡¯s crazy. There¡¯s like at least one player from Goldilocks in every major town. Especially the starting locations. It¡¯s awesome cuz it gives you someone to pair up with that doesn¡¯t have to log out after five minutes. Oh yea. What about you? Did you run into anyone from here?¡± ¡°Nope, not yet,¡± Chris said with a controlled voice. ¡°Huh. Weird,¡± the girl played with her food, as she looked at it with concentration. ¡°Well, you just have to go talk to the prisoner guilds. Serving Time is the biggest by far in Schliessheim but you¡¯d have to look at the forums to find out which one¡¯s leading in your area. I mean we¡¯re pretty close so the demographics can¡¯t be that dif¡­ Like. In the Elflands, there are totally different guilds. I actually think that¡¯s where most of Goldi¡¯s players are. It¡¯s weird, Izmeltine was telling me about it. But anyway. Just join Serving Time or something! We could be guild-mates!¡± ¡°Nah,¡± Chris said. ¡°I think I¡¯m gonna make my own guild.¡± The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted them. The girl¡¯s look of admiring surprise meant she would remember them. It had been an easy way out of getting into one of the convict guilds where she would be surely monitored by other prisoners, but it also brought unneeded attention onto her and revealed too many of her plans to people who didn¡¯t need to know. She should have learned after Doris to be more careful with information. She banged her head against a wall mentally while keeping a calm outer exterior. Her emotions had clouded her judgment, yet again. If it hadn¡¯t been for the anger festering in her blood, she would have been more careful. ¡°Ohmigod. Ohmigod. Ohmigod!¡± Yaz exclaimed. ¡°So cool! I¡¯m totally gonna join when I get there okay? It might take me a little longer than expected, though, there¡¯s some serious quests going on in Schliessheim and like¡­ no offense but¡­ the drought is already annoying enough as it is where I am and it¡¯s like supposedly way worse in Durrenheim¡­ so I¡¯m gonna like¡­ stay away from there for as long as possible.¡± Chris laughed, forcing herself to react less suspiciously. ¡°Nah, I get you,¡± she said as she shoveled the last of the gruel into her mouth, eyes glued to the growing line by the E-block exit. ¡°I¡¯m having trouble with that myself. Ugh, you wouldn¡¯t believe the shit I¡¯ve had to go through because of water. But it¡¯s all good, really helped with the leveling process.¡± ¡°Oh yea man. Tell me about it!¡± Yaz said. ¡°But you know? I think I¡¯m pretty happy with how it all turned out. Did you know they like¡­ track your progress? I was talking to Doris and she told me about it,¡± her eyes scanned the room again distractedly before almost immediately giving up on the search. ¡°I mean, you can only see your own rank and everyone else¡¯s is like scrambled. But I¡¯m already like rank 227¡­ from the bottom I mean. And as long as we get to 500 in the next six days we¡¯ll be fine. What¡¯s your rank?¡± Chris swallowed her last spork of gruel, as she looked at the line across the room. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she replied slowly. ¡°Didn¡¯t know you could check it. Could you show me how?¡± ¡°Oh yea! Sure!¡± Yaz said excitedly. ¡°So. First you just access the interface of the b-link. You already know how to do that right?¡± ¡°Yea I just do¡­¡± Chris replied while accessing her interface. ¡°Oh shoot!¡± she said standing up. ¡°Sorry Yaz. Gotta go, my lawyer just sent some¡­ Well. Doesn¡¯t matter. Can you show me tomorrow?¡± Chris asked while hurriedly getting her tray together so she could deposit at the cleaning station. ¡°Wh¡ª¡± Yaz said, caught off guard. ¡°Yea, for sure!¡± ¡°Thanks and¡­¡±Chris said. ¡°Sorry,¡± she added a rueful look for good measure and then turned around and walked away with quick steps before the girl decided to follow her out. Seconds later, she deposited her tray at the station and filled the E-block line just before another woman did. She wore wrinkled clothes, had greasy bland brown hair and glared like Chris had just killed her first-born child. Chris shrugged innocently at her, pretending the glare didn¡¯t affect her and left her behind as she followed the line out of the cafeteria. She could feel the glare at the back of her head but it scared her a lot less than any of Yaz¡¯s questions. The girl had a big mouth. The moment the cafeteria door closed behind her, she sighed in relief. The crowded noise, overwhelming processed seaweed smell and crowding of way too many bodies was replaced by a tight hallway. But at least her customizations were what overwhelmed her now, and Chris focused on the smell of the early night in a warm tropical forest. The smell of crushed leaves and wet dirt and the humid feeling in the air. She let all of the sensations wash over her for a minute before she focused her attention back on her b-link. The one thing she hadn¡¯t lied about was Lucky. She opened a pinging message from an inbox she did not even know she had. Official Counsel-Visitation Request Issued by Castiel Suerte Inmate: Christina Bolen Identification Number: 5826 Accept | Decline Chris¡¯ heartbeat sped up with the knowledge she would be hearing about her sister soon. Everything she was going through was for something bigger than herself. If she got discouraged at such tiny roadblocks, she wasn¡¯t going to make it to the end and she owed it to her sister to do just that. But most of all, she owed it to herself. She was Christina Bolen. She could get through anything. Taking a deep, reaffirming breath, she chose the Accept option. Chris wondered how the visitation would work in conjunction with her game hours, but realized it would probably be just like meal time had been. It was her first week after all; she couldn¡¯t let the visit eat too much of her game time. She had a lot of catching up to do. Yaz had made it to at least level seven and she even took a proper lunch break. The truly frightening aspect of it though was that she never got to find out what the girl¡¯s actual level was at the end of the day. Her own was still at six and if the girl¡¯s ranking was still at 227, things didn¡¯t look all too good for her. She really couldn¡¯t afford to waste too much time with Suerte. When her thoughts caught up with her, she almost ran into the woman in front of her. Chris didn¡¯t immediately stop with the line at the security gate. All she could think about was how she was suddenly prioritizing the game over her lawyer and thus her sister. She knew she could justify it with the fact that she was playing the game for her sister but unfortunately, she was also self-aware enough to know the true reason. She wanted to play. She wanted to be free, to be herself. She wanted to get better and stronger, strong enough to beat anyone that got in her way. Her fists clenched and she followed the line as it continued its way to E-block. Era was fun, she couldn¡¯t deny it. Sometimes, she almost lost herself in the game and forgot about the real objectives, only caring about the next stat, next quest or the next level. She needed all the time she could get that week if she wanted to keep playing the amount she wanted to. Chris was almost ashamed of the relief she felt when she opened the message she got in her inbox moments later. Official Counsel-Visitation Approval Issued by Castiel Suerte Inmate: Christina Bolen Identification Number: 5826 Visitation Hours are over. There are no Counsel-Visitations on Weekends. Visitation is set for 21st of May, XXXX. It was Friday. A slow smile took over her face, but when she noticed it, she quickly reprimanded herself for it. It was sad, but even imprisoned in both worlds, she felt more free in Era than she ever had in the real one. The line passed the last security gate, but by the time the guard safely deposited Chris back into the cell she shared with Tiny, she was already deeply embedded in the guild forums Yaz had mentioned. She needed to find out all that she could about Serving Time, particularly, three of their members. Chapter 21: Stretching ¡°Well hey there, Barbie,¡± Tiny said when Chris walked into their cell. ¡°How was your first day?¡± She pouted mockingly and added, ¡°Did any of the other kids give you a hard time?¡± ¡°No, but I met Doris and Si¡ª¡± The woman wasn¡¯t paying attention. She was busy slapping her thigh as she laughed at her own joke. ¡°Too good. I mean it¡¯s so perfect, cuz you¡¯re like so¡­¡± Chris rolled her eyes and walked to the bunk, dumping herself into her lower slot as she activated the b-link interface once more. ¡°Uuuuuu,¡± Tiny said from the bunk above her. ¡°One day in and I already can¡¯t recognize you. Look at you getting all defensive and stuff. What did they do to you in there?¡± The tall blond woman didn¡¯t wait for a reply as she sprang from her bunk with her usual unexpected grace. She walked to the corner with the small cabinet and took out a mat, the same she had been using the previous day. Chris looked between the forum page she had just found and Tiny, who was just starting her warm-up. Her eyes wandered back to the b-link, focusing on one of Serving Time¡¯s subdivisions leaders¡¯ names, but she gritted her teeth and put the interface away. She walked to the cabinet and took out the other, identical mat. Without saying a word, she positioned herself as far from Tiny as she could. The woman broke her fluid stretches to eye Chris¡¯ struggles before returning to her own stretch. She elongated her arm; Chris followed suit. She stretched her leg and Chris did the same. She arched her back; Chris moved in unison. When she spontaneously cracked a split, Chris tried the best she could. They went through an intense routine of cardio interspersed with sit-ups, push-ups and other exercises Chris did not know the name for. By the end of the first twenty minutes, she did know one thing: she was in horrible shape. Sweat was pouring off of her skin and she was panting like she had just run a marathon. She almost felt like she was back in the game again, pushing her body to the limits. It was different though. She only realized then, how different her game body was from her real body. Her real body, even in the sorry state it was in, was capable of so much more. There was so much more strength and willingness from the limbs to follow her commands. She wondered if her game body could be leveled and trained to be capable of the same, if not more. Tiny¡¯s movements suddenly changed. Her body contorted itself into weird poses that seemed harmless at first but soon became excruciating to bear. Sometimes, Chris managed to hold it to the end of the Tiny-assigned intervals but most times, she had to take a break in the middle when the burden on her muscles became too much. After shaking the burning sensation from her muscles, she kept at it, knowing that her movements were nowhere near as graceful as the ones she was trying to imitate. Her muscles were cramping up and she was on the verge of giving up by the time Tiny¡¯s stretch flowed gracefully into a standing position. Chris followed with shaking limbs, grateful for the short reprieve. Tiny clapped abruptly. ¡°Aaaand,¡± she said. ¡°That¡¯s a wrap.¡± Chris was caught off guard as she watched the large woman walk to the hidden bathroom corner to grab a cloth, which she used to wipe down her mat. It was completely dry. Chris looked at her own to find it drenched with sweat. She followed suit, cleaning her mat and putting it away with militaristic precision as Tiny had done. ¡°Alright Barbie, let¡¯s shower,¡± she smirked and added, ¡°You need it.¡± Chris merely rolled her eyes and waited for the bout of laughter she knew was coming. It came even before she expected. Tiny cackled while she got her shower things together: flip-flops, sponge, soap and a towel. Chris mimicked her and wondered where they were going to shower. Tiny answered her question by walking to the door, which opened after Tiny held her b-link to a small panel to the right of the door. Her b-link lit up with a soft blue light and she simply stepped out into the hallway. Chris blinked in surprise, but followed when she noticed the larger woman wasn¡¯t waiting. Her b-link also lit up with blue light the moment she stepped out into the hallway. Rushing to catch up with Tiny, who was already two doors down, Chris fell into step beside her and asked, ¡°Are we always allowed to leave, just like that?¡± ¡°Of course not,¡± Tiny said. ¡°Just between counts.¡± Chris looked at her with an obvious lack of comprehension. ¡°Between six AM and ten PM.¡± A moment of silence followed and the two women kept walking down the hall. It still surprised Chris how, even so far under the surface, she could be so convinced she was in the wilderness. Somewhere that had mountains in the backyard. Even the crisp wind that she felt on her skin helped convince her of the fact. ¡°Don¡¯t forget where you are, Barbie,¡± Tiny said as she swiped her b-link against the [SHOWERS] door. It opened and their b-links¡¯ illumination changed to green the moment they passed the door. ¡°This isn¡¯t a beach resort.¡± They walked down a corridor that branched off into dozens of little stalls. As they passed some occupied stalls, heads could be seen towering into the upper glassed section of the cubicles. Some of them turned to look, but most were focused entirely on their showers. Tiny continued walking until she found an empty stall and got into it without a word or a backward glance in Chris¡¯ direction. She closed the door behind her but Chris could still see her head, her neck and even glimpses of her shoulders poking through the glass section. The woman then glanced at Chris and winked before turning her attention to the shower. Chris looked around until she found her own shower stall and made sure it was as close to Tiny¡¯s as possible. When she got into hers, however, not a single part of her was visible to others. The top of her head never reached the bottom of the glass section. She took her clothes off quickly and got under the shower. Before she could worry about how to turn the water on, the spray began washing down upon her. She sighed in relief as the water washed away the accumulated grime. Most of all, she enjoyed the feeling of wet cleanliness after spending the equivalent of almost two days in utter filth in the game. She wanted to just stand there under the shower and enjoy the feeling of water gushing down on her. But before letting herself get carried away, she began methodically going through the steps of taking a shower. Shampoo, conditioner, soap, rinse, rinse, step out of spray, dry and get out. It took her a total of six minutes and she was relieved to see Tiny stepping out at almost the exact same time. As she walked toward her cellmate, another woman stepped out of a shower stall in front of her. They looked at each other uncertainly. For a moment, Chris was afraid of what could happen, but the moment the woman saw Tiny, she gave Chris a wide berth and the two of them continued on their way. ¡°So you said you ran into Doris and Sid?¡± Tiny asked as if the woman hadn¡¯t existed in the first place. ¡°Yea,¡± Chris replied, surprised Tiny had remembered her off-hand comment. ¡°Sid¡¯s a good one,¡± Tiny said. ¡°Even though she can¡¯t play, you shouldn¡¯t underestimate her.¡± ¡°Under¡ª She can¡¯t play?¡± Chris asked, wrinkling her brows as she followed Tiny back down the hall to their room. ¡°Yea¡­ Didn¡¯t you work that out?¡± ¡°No,¡± Chris said. ¡°What?¡± ¡°You met her at lunch right?¡± she asked. ¡°I¡¯m guessing you went for one of the nutri-packs?¡± ¡°Yeaaa¡­¡± Chris said. ¡°And?¡± ¡°And¡­ Any player worth their salt is in the game at that time.¡± Tiny said. ¡°Anyone you see in the service sector is a dud. A non-player.¡± Tiny swiped them into their room again, turning the light on their b-links off the moment they entered the room. ¡°But¡­ She can still play, right?¡± Chris asked, putting her toiletries back in the designated drawers under her bunk. ¡°I mean,¡± Chris continued hanging her towel to dry. ¡°Doesn¡¯t the government require conv... us to play at least two hours every day?¡± ¡°Yes, they do,¡± Tiny said arranging her own things before she jumped into her own bunk. ¡°But in Goldilocks, the only people not playing are complete duds and¡­ does Sid seem like a dud to you?¡± ¡°No¡­¡± Chris said, remembering the woman¡¯s intelligently discerning eyes. ¡°So¡­ Why? Is she just really bad at the game or something?¡± Chris settled down into her own bunk, only to have Tiny lower her head down to give her a questioning look. ¡°Obviously not,¡± Tiny replied, disappearing from Chris¡¯ sight as she settled back into the upper bunk. ¡°She literally can¡¯t. The VR just doesn¡¯t sync with her system. She¡¯s an immune.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± Chris asked. ¡°How can she be immune to VR?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Tiny said. ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone else does either, it just sort of is. There are others like her. Not many. I think there are only like four of them in the entire prison. And of those four¡­ only one of them is functional.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°All the others have lost their mind or gone a little crazy,¡± Tiny said. ¡°It¡¯s not easy for humans to be below the surface for so long. Why do you think that even the guards wear b-links?¡± ¡°They do?¡± Chris asked. ¡°Yea,¡± Tiny replied. ¡°Even if they only have to spend a fraction of their day down here with us. I mean, how would you feel in these cramped walls, knowing the whole time that tons and tons of earth loomed above you, ready to crash down on you at any time?¡± Chris remembered the uncomfortable feeling she had the moment she stepped out of the long elevator ride. She felt a shiver crawl down her back just thinking about how it would be to have to live like that all the time. Focusing her eyes on the windows that were once again displaying the setting sun, the feeling of that sun on her skin made her realize just how thankful and even dependent she was on the b-link for her sanity. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°Wow,¡± was all Chris could say. ¡°That¡¯s crazy.¡± ¡°Yep,¡± Tiny agreed. ¡°Sid¡¯s kind of a legend around here, being able to keep all of her screws on tight.¡± ¡°But if she¡¯s not in the game, what does she do all day?¡± ¡°I dunno,¡± Tiny said. ¡°You¡¯ll have to ask her.¡± Chris took a moment to take it all in, and when Tiny didn¡¯t immediately say anything else, she opened her interface to make a note of what she had just learned. ¡°What about Doris?¡± Chris asked. ¡°You mentioned her as well, so you know her too?¡± A deep chuckle resonated through the room before Tiny replied. ¡°Who doesn¡¯t?¡± Chris waited, but she Tiny didn¡¯t say anything else. A minute later, the lights went out and they were left with the glow of their interfaces as the only light source in the room, other than the minuscule light provided by the fake moon and stars. There was amicable silence between them for some time, Chris occupied with her Serving Time and general guild research and Tiny with her own game-unrelated pursuits. At some point, when the moon disappeared beyond her windowed scope of vision, Chris suddenly sat up and said, ¡°Hey Tiny?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± the woman said with slumber in her voice. ¡°You awake?¡± ¡°I¡¯m talking to you, aren¡¯t I?¡± ¡°Oh, right,¡± Chris said haltingly. ¡°I heard something in the cafeteria today about rankings¡­ could you¡­ what¡¯s that about?¡± ¡°Everyone in the prison has a ranking. One is the best, five thousand and something is the worst. If you¡¯re in the five hundred worst, you¡¯re a dud. If not, you play.¡± Tiny yawned audibly and Chris wondered if she should continue talking to her or not. Courtesy dictated that she should remain silent but her curiosity won out and she asked anyway. ¡°Right and¡­ how do you find out what your ranking is?¡± ¡°You look it up on the interface.¡± ¡°Wh¡ª¡± ¡°Oh for Christ¡¯s sake Barbie, use the search function!¡± ¡°Sorry¡­¡± Chris searched the rankings, afraid of what she would find out but more afraid of saying anything else that would upset the woman. 5787/5792 She was sixth from the bottom. Not 60th, not 16th or 6th. The four digits stared at her like a incriminating symbol of failure. Chris¡¯ mind went blank for almost a minute as she tried to process the implications of the rank. ¡°Tiny,¡± Chris said, with worries about the woman¡¯s mood completely forgotten. ¡°Do those four immunes get ranked as well?¡± ¡°¡­ Yeah. Why?¡± ¡°Oh. Ok,¡± Chris said trying to keep any trace of emotion out of her voice. Chris continued her stare down with the six and had almost manage to comfort herself with the fact that there was still one person that was worse than her. ¡°Chris¡­ What rank are you?¡± Chris was uncertain if she should reply or not. She did not know much about Tiny, but she didn¡¯t know much about Suerte, either and yet she had deposited not only her own but also the fate of her sister¡¯s on his lap. ¡°The worst rank is Lala¡¯s,¡± Tiny added cautiously. ¡°Everyone knows she just sorta hangs out at the pillar room before you even go into the game. She¡¯s afraid of Era.¡± ¡°¡­ Oh.¡± Chris said simply, trying to swallow with her suddenly very dry mouth. ¡°I see,¡± she said, unable to keep the dread from leaking into her voice.¡± ¡°Barbie,¡± Tiny said as she leaned over the bunk, changing the settings on her b-link so that Chris could also see it¡¯s illumination. ¡°This is a very private question. And you can absolutely choose not to tell me, but¡­ what rank are you?¡± Tiny¡¯s face glowed with such concern in the slight light that Chris couldn¡¯t help croaking out, ¡°Sixth.¡± The woman¡¯s eyes widened, ¡°But h¡ª¡± ¡°From the bottom,¡± Chris amended with finality. ¡°Shi¡ª¡± Tiny began before she caught herself. Chris could see a multitude of thoughts flash across the woman¡¯s eyes before Tiny suddenly disappeared from sight and her bunk creaked as she shifted her weight off of the springs into another graceful leap off of the bunk. Chris was caught off guard by the woman¡¯s very sudden and very large presence. ¡°Okay, not trying to offend you here, but seriously¡­. How did that happen?¡± ¡°How di¡ª¡± ¡°Barbie, it¡¯s no time for bullshit. Suerte is gonna be here tom¡ª well. I guess Monday since it¡¯s the weekend. So you¡¯ll have a little more time but you¡¯ll still have to show some progress.¡± Chris lifted her eyebrows in surprise. ¡°The angel has a predictable MO,¡± Tiny shrugged. ¡°So, seriously what happened? It¡¯s basically impossible to have such a shit rank.¡± Tiny¡¯s words hit her like a brigade of slapping insults. She felt about as competent as a solitary grain of sand. ¡°I dunno. I¡¯ve never actually play¡ª¡± ¡°Seriously? You¡¯re gonna give me some bullshit excuses? That¡¯s just sad,¡± Tiny said as she moved to stand up. ¡°I think it¡¯s probably because I ended up in prison,¡± Chris admitted. ¡°What? We are all in prison. I know that it¡¯s hard being a convict in there, all those regs are so prejudiced. I mean, I get it with all the other prisons that only¡ª¡± ¡°No. That¡¯s not it,¡± Chris said. ¡°In Era¡­ I ended up in prison in the game.¡± Tiny¡¯s eyes widened before she crouched back down beside Chris, who was sitting on her own bunk. ¡°Say what?!¡± Tiny half gasped half snorted. ¡°Well¡­ It¡¯s a long story.¡± Tiny settled down, cross-legged on the floor. ¡°Hit me.¡± Some time later, Chris had caught the tall woman up on most of what had happened in Era. She left Serving Time¡¯s involvement out. ¡°But with 800 gold you would have been ranked like¡­ higher than me!¡± Tiny said. ¡°That¡¯s unheard of for the first day and sort of genius, I might add. Don¡¯t think it would usually work though¡­¡± ¡°Yea, but I don¡¯t have that anymore.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± ¡°Sunk cost,¡± she mumbled. ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡± Tiny lifted an eyebrow but didn¡¯t comment, but instead said, ¡°Alright so¡­ this Donovan guy isn¡¯t wrong. He¡¯s just a grinder.¡± ¡°A grinder?¡± ¡°Yea¡­ super intense about maximizing the stat aspects of the game to succeed and all.¡± ¡°And that¡¯s a bad thing?¡± Chris asked, pursing her lips in thought. ¡°Not really¡­ it¡¯s just. Well. It¡¯s really advantageous but only later in the game. In the early levels it really doesn¡¯t make that much of a difference at all.¡± ¡°Yea..¡± Chris replied, thinking about how all the strength training Donovan had taken her through hadn¡¯t added up enough to even allow her to compete on the same level as some of the other low-level players of different races. It especially hadn¡¯t made a difference when she had tried to elude the high-level NPC guard. ¡°I know what you mean,¡± Chris added with a sigh. ¡°I¡­¡± Tiny began cautiously. ¡°Don¡¯t know how many successful Goldilocks players have actually taken that route.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± ¡°Because¡­ that¡¯s not what we are judged on.¡± ¡°What are we judged on then?¡± ¡°Well¡­ Nobody knows for sure but it¡¯s definitely profit and level associated.¡± ¡°How do you know that?¡± ¡°¡­ Because high level players that get a lot of high level loot that is worth some serious high level cash are ranked at a¡­ high level.¡± Tiny smirked at her own purposefully obtuse answer, which only incited an eye roll from Chris. A slight pause followed where each of them looked at each other in amusement before they both cracked up laughing. It felt good to let the stress of the day seep out of her a bit. Laughing almost made her feel normal even, like she wasn¡¯t in a bunker-like prison which expected her to spend her days gold-farming for a warden to do god-knows-what with. Unfortunately, the moment didn¡¯t last and Chris soon felt the pressure to succeed once more. She unconsciously bit her lip as she thought about how she was going to dig herself out of the mess others had gotten her into. For starters, she decided she was no longer going to trust others so willingly. ¡®Perhaps not at all.¡¯ She looked at Tiny, wondering if she should have revealed so much to the woman. Chris didn¡¯t know how trustworthy the woman was. ¡°Relax, Barbie,¡± Tiny said, making Chris think that she had somehow read her thoughts, but then Tiny added. ¡°We¡¯re gonna figure this out. Lucky for you, there¡¯s a way to cut your prison time a little shorter.¡± ¡°There is?¡± Chris asked, unable to control the slight hysteria in her voice. She had been avoiding the thought of what two full real-world days spent in prison would do to her chances in climbing the ranks. ¡°Yea, don¡¯t get too excited, though. It only cuts about half the time off and it¡¯s not free.¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter, whatever works is fine for me.¡± Desperation leads humans to do mysterious and often unthinkable things. The next day, Chris managed to avoid any serious contact with any of the inmates. Instead, she became close friends with her food tray, the spork, her plate and the gruel therein. Aya, on the other hand, learned that her unthinkable task involved a quill, an inkpot and a stack of decaying scrolls. Chapter 22: Portrait ¡°I want to work off my sentence,¡± she said the moment the bored guard, clad in leather armor, walked up. The tall guard eyed her up and down, which, in her case, didn¡¯t involve any up looking at all, before he snorted and said with derision, ¡°And I care what you want¡­ because?¡± He started to walk away, just as Tiny had predicted he would. It was the first time Aya realized how much the negative reputation of the city affected the way the NPCs treated her. Unfortunately for her, Aya had received the highest negative reputation Tiny had heard of from anyone not in some sort of clan, race or border rivalry. A personal loss in the magnitude of five thousand points at once was basically unheard of. ¡°Because it¡¯s still my right as a prisoner of Era,¡± she replied with her rehearsed speech. ¡°You cannot deny me the opportunity to attempt to right my wrongs. It is against your ethos as a people. And anyway, it¡¯s more cost-effective to let your prisoners work off their time on trivial duties.¡± The guard tightened his fists, knowing she had talked him into a corner, before he took out a scroll he had attached to his waist. He squinted at it while he skimmed at it, until a slow smile eventually crawled onto his face.` ¡°Sorry, kid,¡± he said with a total lack of remorse and absolute satisfaction. ¡°Looks like we are out of any of the jobs you could qualify for.¡± ¡°Wh¡ª¡± ¡°You¡¯re either too short or too weak for most of these heavy, labor-intensive jobs and well¡­ all the easy ones, like rose trimming for the mayor¡¯s interior garden, are taken,¡± he said, rolling up the scroll to put it away. ¡°It¡¯s quite unfortunate, really.¡± The guard was about to walk away, but Aya demanded that he read the remaining jobs to her. As he read them out one by one, she realized he was right. She wasn¡¯t strong or qualified enough for any of the jobs. Aya had almost lost hope when the guard read, ¡°Scribe wanted in the Grand Library for the Transcription of Local and General Region Maps¡±. ¡°Wait!¡± Aya interrupted the guard who glared at her for speaking up. ¡°I think I can do that one.¡± ¡°Which one?¡± ¡°The scribe.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t,¡± he said derisively, snorting in disdain. ¡°Your work has to be approved by a librarian before you are allowed to touch anything,¡± he added before looking at her in mock appraisal. ¡°And no librarian is going to let your grubby hands touch any of their important documents.¡± ¡°That¡¯s okay,¡± Aya said, completely ignoring his attitude as she took out her notebook. ¡°Take this,¡± she said, ripping out one of her more detailed maps of the mine region. She did not want to rip out any of the pages in her meticulously-organized notebook but she also didn¡¯t trust the guard anywhere near enough hand him the whole thing. It had quickly become one of her most prized possessions in the game. Especially after her entire fortune had been taken away from her. The guard glared at her some more before he accepted the page. He looked down at it suspiciously and was unable to hide the surprise when he saw the precision of her drawings. ¡°You d¡ª¡± he began in astonishment before stopping short and clearing his throat in embarrassment. ¡°There is no way you drew something like this,¡± he said before he nonchalantly crumbled the page and tossed it over his shoulder. Aya couldn¡¯t prevent a gasp from escaping her lips. It hurt, seeing her hard work just being cast aside like that, but the satisfaction she saw creep into the guard¡¯s face irritated her more than the loss of her work. She ground her teeth, trying to prevent the words going through her mind from escaping. The guard smirked at her and Aya almost blew up at him. ¡°That¡¯s it, kid!¡± another of the prisoners shouted, making Henry jerk tightly around her arm. Distracted, Aya looked past the guard at the man who had shouted. ¡°Let him have it!¡± the old man with patchy hair, yellowing teeth and an NPC label hovering above him encouraged. ¡°That boy¡¯s head¡¯s gotten too big for his britches!¡± ¡°Oh shut up, Nelson!¡± the guard snapped. ¡°Or else what?¡± the man mocked as he leaned against the metal bars of his cell. ¡°You gonna rat me out to Lanya?¡± Nelson chuckled before turning his attention to Aya and adding, ¡°His mother was still in diapers when I met the king for the first time!¡± ¡°Or I¡¯ll add another day to your sentence,¡± the guard bit off. ¡°Yadda, yadda, yadda,¡± Nelson said but then retreated back into the darkness of his cell. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s right, you useless old drunk. You¡¯re an embarrassment,¡± the guard added after Nelson paid him no mind. The guard then turned his attention back to Aya. The pinched look in his eyes proved that he was not happy about the exchange that she had just witnessed. The forced smirk in the corner of his lips, however, showed he believed the final word had given him the upper hand, forced as it might have been. He said something, but Aya completely missed his words and by the time her eyes focused on him again, he was already turning to back away from her. ¡°Hey¡­. Mister Guard?¡± Aya said with as much infused reverence for his title as she could muster. He turned his head back in her direction and she smiled shyly. ¡°I don¡¯t mean to¡­ be taking any more of your time¡­ I already appreciate all that you¡¯ve done for me¡­ but¡­ If you could¡­ Could you give me a chance?¡± ¡°A chance?¡± he asked suspiciously. ¡°No. You¡¯ve had your chance. It¡¯s not my fault you¡¯re a dishonorable thief. You reap what you sow.¡± Aya lowered her head, visibly chastised by his words, but when he again started turning away from her she added, ¡°Actually, I meant my drawing.¡± ¡°What?¡± he asked, slightly irritated. ¡°You see¡­ I¡­ Can I¡­ I want to draw you.¡± He crossed his arms and frowned at her. ¡°What?¡± he asked in a pinched tone. ¡°Well¡­ I¡¯ve never had a chance to meet such a¡­ ¡± she lowered her head for effect, ¡°Good-looking guard like you before¡­ and well¡­ I just wanted to draw a portrait of you¡­¡± Aya wrung her hands together for show. ¡°If you¡¯d let me,¡± she added in a hushed and reverent tone. She didn¡¯t look up immediately, but she could feel the suspicion lingering in the air between them. When Aya¡¯s eyes met his, she saw the struggle on his face. His eyes darted down the hall, back to his abandoned post and towards the flickering torches crackling on the walls. There were sounds of disgruntled prisoners here and there, but it was obvious that all the guard saw was the tedious existence of his post. He turned his attention back to Aya and asked, ¡°What kind of portrait?¡± She smiled with innocent excitement to hide the smug slant of her lips. Busying herself, she asked the guard to bring the stool by his post closer so that she could see his face straight on. The height difference was quite prominent and she didn¡¯t want him to get bored before she could finish. By the time he came back and set himself up on the stool, Aya had her notebook opened to a blank page and a piece of charcoal ready. The angle the guard slanted his face didn¡¯t escape Aya¡¯s notice, and she set to work with firm, bold strokes. Fifteen minutes later she showed the guard his portrait. It was beautiful, so she wasn¡¯t surprised when a self-satisfied smile brushed the young man¡¯s lips. Taking the drawing from her with much more care than the first, he set his stool back without much comment before he said, ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do for you.¡± If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. He picked up the crumpled page he had cast away earlier and left. When his retreating back finally disappeared around the corner, Aya let herself sigh and take on her own self-satisfied smile. She had won over the guard enough for him to disregard the very negative reputation she had amassed with his province. A slow clap resonated through the dungeons, tumbling across echoes as they clashed against the narrow walls. ¡°Bravo, my child,¡± the old man said as he appeared again by the bars of his cell. ¡°Bravo.¡± Henry tightened around her arm again. Aya blinked, caught off guard. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Aya said uncertainly. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t play coy now, kid,¡± the old man flashed his yellow teeth with obvious glee. ¡°We both know that boy doesn¡¯t have a¡­. How do the ladies call it?¡± he mused, brushing his hand against the rough stubble on his chin. ¡°Chiseled jaw! He¡¯s about as ugly as a mule¡¯s be-hind and that purty picture you drew him made him look like a regular Hercules¡­ Or was it Adonis?¡± ¡°¡­ Adonis,¡± Aya answered. ¡°¡­ I think.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Nelson said before a hiccup interrupted his speech. ¡°That.¡± She debated whether or not she should celebrate her victory with the unknown man, but before she could decide, he slumped down in his cell and began to snore. Aya shrugged and Henry relaxed. It never ceased to surprise her how the AI was able to catch onto what she thought of as such subtle human emotions, interactions and manipulations. A real, gleeful smile spread across her face as she settled back in her own cell. ¡°Even the people in prison are more fun in Era,¡± she told Henry. A slight frown creased her brow as her thoughts went back to the real world for a moment. ¡°Then again¡­ they¡¯re a lot less human,¡± Aya added thinking about the transparency of their goals. Unfortunately, real humans were not as predictable. She shook her head to discard the unnecessary thoughts of the real world. There was a game to focus on. A game her real life depended on. Refocusing her attention on the game she noticed a flashing notification. Manipulation Successful! Your tree flourishes. Stage I: 100% The manic world is now open to you. She did not know what the manic world was. Donovan could tell her what it was later. As she wondered about how to let him know what had happened to her, she came across her inbox, which was also flashing. She had two unread messages; one was from Donovan and the other was from Obelisk. Both had received notifications about a new enemy of the province and both of them asked her how she had pissed someone off enough to sink so low in one go. Aya sighed but postponed replying to either of them until later. She had plans for both of them once she got out of prison. Taking a deep breath, she tried focusing on the present. There was nothing she could do about what had happened, at least not at the moment. She shoved all her resentment in the corner of her mind to deal with later. By the time the guard arrived, less than two minutes later, she had her emotions under control. It both excited and scared her that they were becoming harder for her to control, especially in Era. It had only been one real life day since she had first stepped foot into Era but it was already cracking the years of self-imposed frigidity. The only thing that kept her from forgetting the ties to her real world self was the Goldilocks rank. It served as a constant reminder of the impending judgment on her further game time. ¡°Move it,¡± the guard said, bringing Aya¡¯s attention back to the game as he pushed her out into the sunlight and the arms of another guard. Her own arms came up instinctively, trying to shield her eyes from the sudden rays but the guard did not give Aya the chance to adjust, roughly pulling her along the cobbled roads until they reached the library a couple streets over. Large wooden doors led her into a brightly lit, circular room. The guard handed her over to a robed man, who Aya assumed was a librarian, before he promptly exited the building. She was left feeling like an abandoned sack of potatoes, handed off from an owner who didn¡¯t want her to an owner who wanted her even less. The robed man her towered over her, like everyone else, but the height disparity was much smaller than she had gotten used to in Era. He was only a little less than a head taller than her and as thin and frail-looking as a blade of grass. His robes hung off of him like curtains, dwarfing him even more. His attitude, on the other hand, was expressed with a fierce posture accompanied by aggressively crossed arms that broadened his frame tremendously. The incongruity of the man¡¯s existence was only exacerbated when he spoke, releasing a deep, gravel-like voice that reverberated through the room¡¯s silence. ¡°I haven¡¯t heard many good things about you,¡± he said. ¡°But I like to judge a man or woman¡­ or child¡­ by his or her actions. Myself.¡± He pulled her creased sketch from the folds of his robes and added, ¡°If you can re-create work of this caliber, we will get along well.¡± After a fierce look, he had follow him to a miniscule room that smelled of musty decay and dust. Aya sneezed, creating an unexpected wave of air in the stagnant room that caused several scrolls on the table in front of her to tumble to the ground. The small table dominated the tight space in the room, less than a step away from the shelves upon shelves of books and scrolls that surrounded it. One scroll in particular drew their attention as it fell to the ground with others and slowly rolled away, leaving scraps in its wake. A moment of heavy silence passed before the librarian turned to her and said, ¡°Your job is to transcribe as many of these scrolls as you can. The sudden change in weather had an adverse effect on many of our manuscripts. You will primarily be in charge of illustrations and maps as most of our librarians are not skilled in the arts.¡± He turned to make sure she was still listening before he pointed out the tools at her disposal. They were pen, ink and paper. ¡°Your time will be compensated in the usual ratio of two to one. Each hour of work you provide will eliminate two hours of your sentence.¡± He gave her a steely look before he added, ¡°I will also be evaluating your work at every step. Be careful with these documents. Most of them are worth more than your life.¡± He walked to the door in solid, measured steps before he turned around and added, ¡°I suggest you start with this one.¡± He nodded to the scroll at his feet. A/N: I have been told that my chapters are too long. So... chapters will be shorter from now on. Let me know what you think. This also PROBABLY means they''ll happen more often. PROBABLY. And as always. HUGE thanks to unice and cur. If you haven''t yet... you should read her fic... obvs. shes like top 10. fantasia. its awesome. much better writer than me. Chapter 23: Bonded Aya sighed over the dusty documents before her, blowing yet another cloud of aged particles into the air. The work was slow and tedious, the first scroll in particular, which had taken over an hour to transcribe. Finding and assembling of the lost pieces had taken longer than the actual copying. In the end, she still hadn¡¯t managed to fill in all of the holes; she completed where she could with charcoal and left the rest blank. It had been such a major undertaking that her head hurt just thinking about repeating the process. She knew there were many scrolls in much worse condition, but she chose one of the better scrolls, needing a reprieve from the mental strain. As she copied the map of an unknown dungeon she almost felt guilty, but when she had the task done in less than five minutes, she realized that she could use the better-quality scrolls to practice on before tackling the badly-decayed ones. She worked tirelessly, scroll after scroll, and slowly realized that most of the maps she copied displayed portions of the surrounding region. Aya immediately took out her notebook, making her own hurried and less elaborate copies of the maps. Knowing the librarian wouldn¡¯t approve, she made sure to hide it every time she wasn¡¯t using it, placing it carefully out of view of the door. She had no idea if and when the man was planning on coming back. Eventually, she cared less about the quality and more about the content, choosing the regions and maps that looked more interesting. As she continued her work, she noticed that her precision stat was still rising and after over a hundred scrolls a window popped up. Scribe: Writing and drawing system assist. Automatic conversion from thought to writing and drawing. Conversion Speed: Very Slow Duration: 30 seconds Cool-down: 5 minutes Chris jerked in unexpected astonishment when she realized that something as monotonous and academic as copying scrolls was capable of generating a skill. Unsure of how it worked, Aya wanted to browse the forums but she didn¡¯t want to be caught idling, nor waste the opportunity to get her hands on as many maps as possible. Instead, she decided to take a more hands-on approach and used one of the copies she had created to try out her new skill. She would rather ruin a page of her notebook than one of the library¡¯s prized documents. She activated the skill and a small countdown appeared in the top right of her field of vision. After looking at the Rimdar Mine maps, which she had already transcribed to a new copy, she turned to a blank page in her notebook. As she thought about how she wanted the lines to appear, a gray sketch of what she was thinking appeared on the page. Amazed, she brought her quill closer to the page and as soon as the quill touched the paper, the countdown started and her hand began moving almost of its own accord, drawing out the lines in her mind, turning gray into reality in less than a minute. It took her twenty-eight seconds to draw out the entirety of the Rimdar Mine. The first copy had taken her over five minutes. She blinked in astonishment and added a couple notes from other maps to use up the last two seconds. Aya waited for the five minute countdown and used the skill as much as she could, quickly leveling it up as her work progressed. Skill wasn¡¯t the only thing she gained. As the hours went by she gained a thorough understanding of the area, letting her put the places she had been on a map. She hadn¡¯t seen anything yet. Donovan was right, she would have to get considerably stronger before she could even think about moving out of the region. Some of the maps detailed living flora and fauna and she didn¡¯t pass up the opportunity to write them down, along with their strengths and levels that were often included. She knew they would be useful to her in the long run, even if the high-level areas were out of reach for the foreseeable future. Aya also learned other interesting tidbits of information, such as various uses for different types of herbs and tree bark. She was so carried away on deciphering an almost-illegible note on the poisonous properties of Alet bark, a very common tree in the region, that when a sudden gust of fresh air suddenly invaded the room. Aya gasped, breathing in the cool air as she wiped away a sheet of sweat she hadn¡¯t even noticed until then. The librarian raised a brow at her reaction to his entrance. ¡°Sorry,¡± she said. ¡°You just¡­ surprised me, is all.¡± The corner corner of his mouth twitched, but he said nothing as his eyes surveyed the desk. A slight frown began to develop on his brows, but when he looked at the shelves behind Aya his eyes widened perceptibly, erasing any trace of hostility. Aya turned to look at the shelf behind her. She had randomly chosen it to store all of the scrolls she had handled, new and old. She had barely made a dent in the total documents of the room, but she had manage to clear out the entirety of the stack on the table before moving on to random selections of the shelves. Suddenly she wondered if the task had only included the scrolls on the table. Before she could worry, the librarian said in the same baritone voice, ¡°It is time for you to take a break.¡± He stepped aside and motioned for her to follow him before adding, ¡°You can continue after you have a drink of water and a bite to eat. Your pet also looks like he could use a drink.¡± Aya frowned before she remembered Henry, who was still tied around her forearm. She had gotten so used to him that she barely noticed his unpecking presence, especially when she was immersed with drawing. As she fell into step behind the librarian, passing rows and rows of books, she noticed how the man was very correct in his analysis of Henry. He looked dead. His black eyes were glazed over into a matte black, their usual eerie shine gone. His black feathers were covered with decayed paper bits and parchment dust. Most of all, his beak was open and his unexpectedly short tongue stuck out in obvious dryness. He obviously needed water, but part of her just wanted to let him suffer. Unfortunately, she couldn¡¯t let him die unless she wanted to sacrifice herself as well. As she focused on the sensation of her right arm, she felt a dull throbbing ache that stretched out from Henry¡¯s point of contact with her skin. She tried massaging the pain out with the use of her left hand as she walked behind the librarian, but the pressure only made her even more aware of the pain. Aya cringed, wondering how far the man was going to take her. Henry was unconscious but she was quite sure she was being poisoned, albeit slowly. Her health was still full, but as she watched her bar closely, she realized that every now and then, it would fall by a point before jumping back up a couple of seconds later. Her body was still keeping up with the rate of poisoning but she did not know how long it could last. She had no water left. The man¡¯s slow gait harmonized with the silence of the library. Aya opened her mouth to ask the man about water, but the glares directed at her by a pair of librarians they passed rendered her silent. She didn¡¯t know what it might do to her reputation with the man, but more importantly, she didn¡¯t know what it would do to her future as a scroll transcriber. Deciding not to chance anything, she tightened her jaw and decided to wait it out. The seconds crawled by as she waited. She tried to suppress her unease but when a minute that felt like an hour went by, she noticed that her health had finally begun to lose the slow battle to the poison. She could feel her heart beat inside her rib-cage and a drop of sweat that rolled down the nape of her neck, causing cold shivers to spread down her spine. The pain in her arm was spreading noticeably but bookshelf upon bookshelf were still the only things in sight. Aya really didn¡¯t want to interrupt the silence of the library to urge the man to walk faster. Instead, she simply took out the only liquid she had in her possession, copious amounts of mob-blood. She carefully dampened one of the cloth straps she had devised from looted items like soiled bandannas. Making a bloody mess would probably not impress the librarian, so she slowly moved to feed Henry. At first Henry didn¡¯t respond to her light dabbing, but his eyes eventually moved with slow sluggishness until his dry tongue and beak suddenly latched onto the wet cloth like a vise. His body tightened around her arm as he quickly sucked the blood off the cloth. Aya quickly moistened it again before returning it to his reach. She repeated the process while mindlessly following the librarian¡¯s steps. ¡°What are you doing?¡± his deep voice suddenly asked from behind her. She swiveled around, surprised at how the man she was following had crept up on her. ¡°¡­ N-nothing,¡± she replied, casually returning the waterskin to her back and the rag to the pouch at her waist. ¡°Just a little¡­ parched is all.¡± The man eyed her flatly but didn¡¯t comment. Instead he merely jerked his head to the side, indicating a door that she hadn¡¯t even noticed. Aya lowered her head in an apologetic pose before following him in. The room was just as brightly lit as the rest of the library, with rays of light filtering into the space but it was missing the motes of dust suspended in the sunbeams. She took a deep breath, enjoying the warm smell of freshly-baked bread, which contrasted greatly with the smell of old books she had been experiencing for the last couple of hours. The room looked like a mess hall, with four long wooden tables dividing the room up into quarters. The librarian directed her to the emptiest one. One of the librarians at her table glared at her in distaste before returning his attention to the simple meal before him. Aya¡¯s own librarian, on the other hand, nodded to a man on another table who stood up and left the room through another door. After Aya sat down uncomfortably at the spartan table, he followed suit, sitting across from her. They eyed each other and the silence between them lengthened while other conversations buzzed around them. Aya was painfully aware of the reviving chicken wrapped around her forearm. Henry was making his presence known with strange sounds that gurgled out of him like a disease. ¡°Eat,¡± the librarian said simply when two plates arrived, almost out of thin air. By the time Aya looked at the robed man who had dropped off the food, he was already retreating back to his own table. The fierce man before her didn¡¯t make any further comments before biting into the piece of bread that had been brought to him. Aya looked around uncertainly, still painfully aware of both Henry and her health bar. Fortunately, her health had finally stabilized herself enough for her panic to subside and the chicken was slowly returning to normal. She tore into the meal like a starving animal. Aya hadn¡¯t eaten anything that tasted as good as the bread, cheese and dried fruit brought to her in days, not in Era or real life. She¡¯d forgotten one of the most important basic pleasures of life and vowed to pay more attention to any culinary uses of the herbs in the region. Until then, food had become merely an item on a list of things needed to survive. Minutes later, a tall and bulky robed man walked in from the entrance Aya and the librarian had used. He walked in calm. measured steps like every other robed individual in the library and made his way to the librarian¡¯s side. ¡°Senior Aizan,¡± the bulky man mumbled as he bent his head in acknowledgment of the librarian¡¯s rank. ¡°Junior Ta,¡± the librarian replied, never looking away from the steaming cup of tea in his hands. The bulky man leaned down and whispered silently to Aizan for a minute or so before leaving. He never looked in Aya¡¯s direction and she never heard a syllable of what was said. Her own librarian, Aizan, gave nothing away. His face remained as stoic as ever, with eyes closed, a firm posture and even breath. He looked like he was meditating. Aya looked around as the mess hall slowly cleared out, until they were the only ones left. Henry had long since reverted to his old behavior and she no longer feared for his life. Aya felt a little bad for not waiting out on the blood feeding and tried to offer him some of her water but he wouldn¡¯t take any. She soon gave up when Aizan suddenly spoke up. ¡°Your work has been approved, you may return.¡± Aya sat there, frozen to the bench, caught off guard by the man¡¯s simple statement. She didn¡¯t know if she should get up and leave or wait for him to escort her back. Aizan didn¡¯t let her wonder for too long. ¡°Go,¡± he said. ¡°Leave.¡± She bolted up, stumbling over the bench as she climbed over it. Without his guidance, she was a bit disoriented but she quickly made her way to the door when she spotted it. As her hand touched the handle, Aizan spoke up again. ¡°A meal will be provided to you every twelve hours,¡± he gave her one of his fierce looks. ¡°A junior will notify you. In return, I ask that you refrain from eating or drinking in the vicinity of my books. If I see any more of that¡­ drink of yours around my books, I will triple your sentence and make sure you never see the inside of a library again.¡± She nodded stiffly and turned back to the door. ¡°Oh,¡± he added, forcing Aya to return her attention to him. ¡°I know I don¡¯t have to tell you this, but you know that all of the documents you are working on are of the utmost confidentiality.¡± Aya nodded calmly. ¡°Good,¡± he said. ¡°Then I don¡¯t have to remind you of what would happen if any of the information got out.¡± He smiled, but it didn¡¯t reach his steely eyes before he closed them and effectively dismissed her. Her throat constricted, and her limbs froze but her fingers immediately tightened around the door-handle to pull it open. Stepping into the long corridor that led the way back to her tight and dusty room. She quickly pulled the door behind her, and hurried her steps to the left, in the direction they had come from, hoping that she would eventually be able to find the room again. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. The notebook in her pocket burned like an incriminating brand, but she kept a calm outer appearance on her way back. Henry on the other hand, was not calm at all when he came back into himself and she focused on binding and silencing him until she got back into her small room. The table was as she had left it, but all of the documents she had already transcribed were gone along with their original copies. Aya nodded to herself, appreciating the extra space the missing scrolls gave her. Without further thought she found a scroll about one of the relatively low-level dungeons in the vicinity and took it to the table. She sat down carefully, paying more attention on how she placed her right arm with its extra living appendage. He had been less of an inconvenience on the edge of death, but unfortunately their fates were tied. Glancing to the door behind her to the left she realized she had been walking a very fine line by taking her own copies of all the documents. From what Aizan had said, and not said, she knew that she would gain a much closer acquaintance with Durrenheim¡¯s prison cells. She sighed, pursed her lips, decided she shouldn¡¯t take anymore chances and took her notebook out. Four hours later, Aya¡¯s quill was still flying across the paper as she tried to get through as many documents as she could. Her scribe skill grew and allowed her speed to go from ¡°Very Slow¡± to ¡°Quite Slow¡±. She was quite pleased with the growth, as it allowed her to get more ink down during the thirty seconds of her skill. Unfortunately, the duration didn¡¯t go up and the cool-down didn¡¯t go down. The hours took such a toll on her neck and hand muscles that she had to add stretches into her transcription routine. Every time she got up to pick out another scroll, she would take a couple seconds to work the kinks out of her muscles before sitting back down. Eventually, even that wasn¡¯t enough to keep the cramps at bay. Henry wasn¡¯t making her life any easier by protesting in the only way he could, tightening around her forearm until her hand turned almost as blue as the ink she was working with. She tried to ignore his antics as best as she could, constantly wishing his initial state of unconsciousness would return. Eventually, his presence became so disabling that she tried to use her left hand. It was an utter failure but the next time the gray lines of her Scribe skill appeared, she wondered if the left hand would be any more successful when controlled by the system. Thirty seconds later, she had a perfect copy of Terrar Lake. According to the maps, it was less than half an hour away from Durrenheim, but Aya doubted it was still as big as the map indicated. With the drought, it was quite possible that it didn¡¯t even exist anymore. She tried to find a current map of the region in the forums, but they were all very crude and barely decipherable. It was the first time she realized just how valuable her own maps were going to be, if Aizan didn¡¯t find out about them first. Almost as if on cue, Henry began to croak helplessly. He tightened his tail around her forearm and pushed frantically against his bonds. It was the first time that he struggled with enough vehemence for some of his leathery feathers to be chafed off. Aya couldn¡¯t help feeling a little sorry for him. Sighing in resignation, she told him, ¡°Look. I¡¯m gonna loosen those ties ok? But! You can¡¯t create a ruckus¡­ remember how we got along last time? Let¡¯s try that again, okay?¡± Almost as if he had understood every word, Henry stilled. ¡°Okay?¡± Aya asked hopefully, quite surprised her words had even worked with the creature. When he didn¡¯t respond after a second she said, ¡°Okay.¡± She loosened the bonds slowly, lifting her left arm protectively and vigilantly. She was hopeful, but she wasn¡¯t stupid. Aya watched him carefully for almost a minute, but when he didn¡¯t make any aggressive moves, she decided to simply let him loose. After watching him roam peacefully on the side of the desk for another minute, she turned back to her work but remained vigilant of his actions. It wasn¡¯t long before her Scribe cool-down ended and she was able to use it again. After her recent success and her newly freed up right hand, she decided to try something new. Taking a second quill from the quill-set before her, she held one in each hand as she activated the skill. She wondered if the skill would let her draw two things at once. Five seconds later she knew the answer: it wasn¡¯t possible. Pursing her lips she frowned in disappointment as she reviewed the results. The two different maps she had chosen to copy overlapped on the two blank scrolls she had selected. Henry croaked, reminding her of his presence. She looked up and gave the bird an understanding nod. ¡°I know, right?¡± she added. ¡°Sucks that I can¡¯t just¡­ Wait. What if¡­¡± Her eyes lit up with the new idea and she chose one of the old scrolls to lay before her before she brought out her notebook to put beside the new blank scroll in front of her. Although copying two images at once hadn¡¯t worked, the simultaneous use of both of her hands had. Focusing on the single document before her, a detailed diagram of a dissected Frogungus, she activated her skill and watched as two perfect copies of the diagram were quickly drawn out. Three and a half minutes later, she knew for sure that the skill could use both hands simultaneously and with equal proficiency. The only limitation was that she ended up with two identical copies. Another minute later, she narrowed the limitation by a fraction when she discovered that the copies could be of different sizes. She used the discovery quite happily to quickly supply herself with perfect copies of the documents to her notebook. Aya was smiling a little manically as she copied another dissection diagram. Her eyes kept darting to the cool-down countdown. She was so caught up on the new use of the skill that she spilled the ink pot, tipped her chair over and landed on the floor when a sudden spike of pain hit her below the ribs. ¡°Aaaaaaauuu!¡± she screamed at the chicken, as it resumed its sudden and vicious attack on her. Lifting her right arm away from her body and using her left arm to try to fend it off, she tried to get in a more useful position that didn¡¯t involve her legs being messily upended over the toppled chair. ¡°Stop!¡± she screamed. ¡°Stop it! You stupid, ridiculous¡­ Annoying, stupid, irritating¡­ Stupid piece of¡­ UGH! Stop it!¡± she screamed as she pushed the vicious chicken with leathery flapping wings away from her. Once she was able to fix her stance, she quickly subdued him and realized his attack lacked its usual ferociousness. ¡°Wh¡ª¡± she started, but then simply eyed Henry. ¡°You okay, buddy?¡± He tried to start an attack again so she merely tied him back up, ignored his continuing struggles and went back to work. She used the next hour to test the limits of the scribe skill and was rewarded with further growth of the skill from ¡°Quite Slow¡± to ¡°Still Slow¡±. When she finally got into her routine again, she wasn¡¯t bothered by Henry¡¯s struggles until one of her cramps simply refused to go away. She shook her hand slowly as she opened and closed her hand, trying to work the cramp away. When it didn¡¯t automatically work like it usual, she turned her attention back to the guilty bird tied around her forearm. He was unconscious but her arm was again experiencing a numbing pain she knew was associated to his poison. ¡°No, no, no¡­¡± she said and checked her timer. She still had another two hours before one of the juniors would come by. ¡°No!¡± she shouted, cringing with the pain of the spreading poison. There was no time to wait for one of the librarians and she had no way of knowing she would not be punished for leaving the room. She stood up and tried the door anyway, realizing she was locked in. ¡°Ugh!¡± she shouted, kicking the door. The separate pain in her foot allowed her to clear her head a little to take out the waterskin of blood. She fed it to Henry the same way she had been told not to. Dying was a worse alternative than going to jail for more time. ¡°Probably,¡± she said through gritted teeth. With the combined pain of her lower ribs, which were still healing from Henry¡¯s attack, her foot and her poisoned arm, she wasn¡¯t doing too well. Her health bar reflected that fact, slowly losing out to the poison. It took her almost five minutes to resuscitative the chicken again and as he worked himself out of his groggy state again she got back to transcribing, hoping to gain back the lost time. Unfortunately, Aya forgot to tie him back up and he took full advantage of the fact when she used the scribe skill a couple minutes later. He attacked the same spot with renewed power and viciousness. Aya screamed, once more caught off guard by the Layhen¡¯s sudden attack and was unable to immediately subdue him. The result was a three-minute scuffle, which resulted in Aya finally managing to regain the upper hand and Henry having a beak bloody with Aya¡¯s blood. After tying him back up, she inspected the wound. Furia¡¯s dress had been torn to shreds at her waist, revealing a bloody gash of a wound that was leaking blood onto its velvety green folds. She applied pressure and sighed. The dress reminded her of how Furia had been so nice to her. The woman had introduced her to her guild with such excitement that Aya had felt welcome in the game for the first time. They didn¡¯t make her feel like an unwanted convict. The other guild members had show unguarded admiration for her accomplishments. It made her feel special and strong, like she would be able to succeed in the game after all. Maybe she would be able to get a player spot in Goldilocks. Their guild house had been beautiful and Furia had shown her to a bath with more clean water in it than she had seen in the whole game put together. Furia had called her cute, seeing her surprised face and urged her to wash the grime off before choosing the right dress for her. She had indulged in the tepid water like it was the bath of queens. When she got out, Furia had showed her an expansive wardrobe and encouraged Aya to try on dress after dress. After trying on dozens, she felt like a careless girl for the first time in years. Aya had seen girls like that in movies but never thought she would have the chance to be one of them. Furia had filled the role of the tag-along friend who told her this-dress-is-too-that and that-dress-is-too-this until Aya eventually chose the velvet green dress in her hands. Her fingers tightened around the folds of the skirt, wound forgotten. She remembered the card sewn into the sleeve. Thinking back, she tried to work out when and how the woman had manipulated her choice. Her hands balled into fists but when she almost stomped her foot in a tantrum she caught herself and instead just yanked the dress off. Unable to reach her back to undo the buttons, she tore it off her body shred by shred with a complete lack of mercy for the beauty of the dress. Seconds later, she was breathing hard with self-inflicted scratches all over her body and an unrecognizable dress in tatters around her. Remembering her starter tunic, she reached into her bag, took it out and put it on, relieved she hadn¡¯t listened to the woman¡¯s recommendation of trashing it. Aya took deep, calming breaths as she gathered the velvety rags around her. Their mere existence aggravated and irritated her but she told herself they would be a good reminder of the events that unfolded at Vincent¡¯s unfortunate birthday dinner. She never wanted to see a gambling table again. Most of all, they were loot and who knew what they could be used for later. A sinister smile spread across Aya¡¯s face as she envisioned using them to feed the rest of the blood to Henry. It seemed suitable. She turned to Henry to see if he agreed, as he was the only witness and companion that had stuck with her through the entire mess. Before she could ask the once-again-struggling bird for his opinion, an unexpected notification popped up. The LayHen named Henry has blood-bonded with you. Aya gaped in fascination as his previously unreadable health bar floated up to join hers at the top right of her field of vision. It was flashing red and icons of both thirst and hunger glared accusingly beside his health bar. Her attention however, was caught by something completely different. ¡°What the¡ª You¡¯ve gotta be¡ª¡± she said. ¡°Level TWENTY-FRIGGIN-ONE!?¡± A/N: Thanks to Unice and Cur as always. Unice is awesome... seriously. Anyway... due to overwhelming comments about how you are fine with longer chapters... here we are back to "normal". I already had this divided out into two 2.5k chapters.... but whatcha gonna do right? Customer is king. OH. and btw. Breakdown''s wordcount is now 87k (This is without prologue and chapter 2 which I decided I won''t be using in my official version... cuz they are unnecessary and detract from story.) Alright. As always. Feedback always appreciated. AND. Mister Serinphora... thanks for telling me you were pissed about not knowing. BUT. I didn''t do it for you :P I already had this written out... lol. sorry. just had to make a point that I''m a strong and independent woman! With my own mind! But I''m still glad your opinion COINCIDES with what I had written. (Yes, I have stubbornness issues.) (oh yea... and these author notes are obvs not included in wordcount... that would be cheating since I do tend to rant.) Chapter 24: RuneGate Aya couldn¡¯t get over the fact that the damn bird was over three times her level. Looking at his stats, she noticed his attack and defense points were slightly higher than hers. It explained why their initial bout had been so evenly matched. Unfortunately, she also unearthed his health points. They were three times higher than her own. That in turn explained why he had been so hard to kill in their first fight, before he decided to permanently attach himself to her. ¡®Good times.¡¯ She sighed before looking at the stack of scrolls before her. It bothered her that none of the other players had bonded creatures, at least not from what she could tell. Part of her wanted to immediately open up the forums or at least send Donovan a message. Instead she fed Henry blood until his dehydration and hunger warnings went off, bound him up and went back to work. She would need to investigate the nature of the bond later but there was nothing to be done about it now. The damn bird had already taken too much of her time in the library. She had no idea when and if one of the librarians would show up to check on her and her work. The contents of the scrolls were too good to pass up for a bird she wanted to get rid of. Aya carefully placed a pile of finished scrolls on one of the emptied shelves. Her work was finally showing results and with the emptied space, she was able to organize herself and create a working system. She sifted through the scrolls she wanted to copy first, giving them a quick glance to make sure they would be of some use to her in the future. The previous batch had unfortunately proven that some scrolls were completely useless or simply less-detailed renditions of other scrolls. She opted for the more complex scrolls with more pertinent details. The pile of finished scrolls continued to grow along with her Scribe skill. Setting up a visual progress bar, she was able to keep track of the growth of her skill. Over time, the documents started to bore her and she began running into near-identical accounts of the same event. By the time she noticed, she had three different copies of the Vernabur Dungeons. They were creations from three different individuals in three different time periods. Although they allowed Aya to see how the dungeon slowly shifted over time, it was still a redundancy she didn¡¯t enjoy. Going through so many scrolls also let her see that some scholars, like Sir Reynolds Mann, created completely useless work. She completely avoided his work after his second scroll detailing the pollination of the SerVirak plant. Later she came across a scroll by Sen-Tem Tian, a rivaling scholar of lesser birth. Although the scrolls were created around the same time, Tian¡¯s work was in much greater disrepair. The scrolls were literally falling apart with the lesser-quality material and even the ink itself was barely legible, having faded through the centuries. But even with the much lower quality material, the contents themselves were of much higher quality. It was obvious that Reynolds Mann had used Tian¡¯s work to propel himself into scholastic fame. It annoyed Aya how money and status overpowered skill and intellect even in a game¡¯s history. Even if she couldn¡¯t change the past and help Tian gain recognition for his talents in his time, it gave her pleasure to create perfect replicas of the man¡¯s detailed work. She had good paper and ink at her disposal and she didn¡¯t let a single annotation go by unnoticed. Later, after piling all of his finished copied scrolls together, she put Sir Mann¡¯s scrolls in the deepest, dankest corners of the musty little room that she could find. Although Aya tried to keep to her working system, every now and then she would encounter a work, like Tian¡¯s, for which she felt a special affinity. She didn¡¯t know how it happened, but by the time she noticed it, she could almost differentiate the authors of the scrolls before even touching them. It was like the room was coming alive around her, like the scrolls had lives of their own. Her eyes veered toward the progress and time bar she hadn¡¯t given much thought to for a while. It was almost time for the second meal and her Scribe skill had suddenly jumped up to ¡®Tolerably Slow¡¯. She wondered if the new way in which she viewed the scrolls had anything to do with her skill. Aya looked at her pile of finished scrolls, which were now taking up three whole shelves. She was quite proud of her work and thinking of her latest chosen scholar, Sir Willis Taim, an aristocrat with a brain - a rarity, when she looked around the room at the piles upon piles of stored scrolls until they began to shine with almost imperceptible light. Eventually, two of them shined slightly more brightly than the rest and Aya approached them. She picked them up, noticing the paper had the same age and feel as the rest of Taim¡¯s work. Opening it, she immediately recognized the man¡¯s bold, looping hand. She bit her lip and absentmindedly headed to the desk, immediately activating her skill. At first she hadn¡¯t paid it much mind, assuming that the game was somehow helping her sort through the room¡¯s contents but with the last couple of ¡®searches¡¯ she had done, it was quite obvious that her ¡®ability¡¯ was growing stronger. As her hand continued to copy the mentally laid out lines of the document, the Taim family lineage, a document she was now unsure why she was even copying, she thought of one of the earlier scholars she had come across, an unnamed priest. A couple of scrolls immediately lit up around the room. They were mostly placed on high shelves and as her eyes shifted upwards, they were distracted by something else. Little beads of light hung around the ceiling. Some hummed and vibrated in place; others swung wildly about and others swirled back and forth as if pushed around by an invisible wind. Aya was stunned; there were hundreds of them and she hadn¡¯t noticed them until that very second. The brightness of the room sudddenly made sense. She remembered entering the room lit by the simple, flickering light of a torch, yet for hours she had been surrounded by a clear, white and unfiltered light that had nothing to do with any torch or any muddy light forcing its way through the cracked grime on the window. She was completely unable to tear her eyes away from the luminous spectacle above her. Her attention was only forced away minutes later when her skill timed out. Aya looked down at the scroll before her, noticed the system assist had left some of the lines out, and completed them quickly before returning her attention to the ceiling. Over half of the lights were either gone or dimmed. Scrunching her brows, she watched as more and more of them disappeared. Henry wriggled against her arm, tearing her attention away from the ceiling. She looked down at her arm and considered him, her arm, her quill and the lights. Taking out her notebook, she started drawing out her personal smaller copy of the Taim lineage. She doubted she would ever have use for it again, but her real aim was something else. Halfway through her drawing, she looked up in time to see more of the lights flickering back to life. Concentrating on her work again, she set out to copy more documents. The more documents she copied in a shorter amount of time, the more lights she would find in the room with her. Over time, she noticed that their colors were all slightly yellowish with only a few bluish ones in between. Some were brighter than the others and she could almost swear they felt a bit different from one another. One would be fuzzy while another would be sweet. She couldn¡¯t explain it, the same way she couldn¡¯t explain the way the scrolls around the room glowed slightly with light when she focused on them. When sorting through a particular architect¡¯s scrolls, mainly organized in a single section, Aya wondered if the ceiling lights were somehow related to the scrolls¡¯ glowing. She was busy copying the woman¡¯s blueprints of some lord¡¯s mansion when she noticed something oddly familiar about the layout. Still concerned about the connection of the lights, Aya looked up, hoping to find a light that linked to the scroll¡¯s glow before her. She didn¡¯t find one. Disappointed, she returned her attention to the blueprint. Her hand was tracing one of the final notes accompanying the designs for a magnificent ballroom when her brain finally caught up to her fingers. The ballroom was familiar to her because she had been in it once. Only, it hadn¡¯t been decorated as a ballroom when she was in it. It had been a guild room. Aya¡¯s hand unconsciously tightened around the quill, straining it unnaturally until it bent. By the time she noticed, she was shaking and Henry was looking at her strangely past his bonds. Feeling trapped in a small room with a chicken tied around her arm, she got up and walked hurriedly around the desk, trying to convince herself that she wasn¡¯t a prisoner. She threw the broken quill onto the table and untied the bird, hoping to attain some measure of freedom. Aya braced herself for the bird¡¯s onslaught of attacks, but they never came. Instead, he simply jumped to the ground and walked away from her, tail suspended into the air like a mocking question mark. For a moment she stood, not knowing what to do. She was finally rid of the damn bird! She wanted to run around the small room in a victory lap; instead she slumped onto the chair and rubbed the stiffness out of her right arm. They were bonded; it was too late to get rid of him now. She sighed and tried to ignore the circling bird as best as she could. Stretching her arm out, she picked up the blueprint in front of her. It was incredibly detailed and unlike some of the other, more dated blueprints with dozens of revisions, it was current. She took out all of the architect¡¯s other blueprints. Some were completely unrelated sketches of other buildings but most of the woman¡¯s drawings detailed buildings in the same neighborhood as Serving Time¡¯s guild. The whole neighborhood housed a bunch of other guilds and Aya made careful and comprehensive copies, both for herself and the library. Her mind was abuzz with plans and what she could do with the sketches. Some of the buildings had secret passageways. Serving Time¡¯s building didn¡¯t but Aya could see a couple of places that would easily connect to the hidden tunnels of other nearby buildings. She was drawing all of this into her notebook, thinking of all the possibilities when the light around her suddenly intensified. It was slow at first, growing brighter and brighter, and by the time Aya finally tore her attention away from her sketches to look at it, it was almost blinding. She shielded her eyes when she looked at the source, one of the little beads of light from the ceiling. Henry was squawking erratically in a corner and Aya was squinting through her eyes to see anything when the light suddenly increased in intensity, blinding her and warming her with a burst of heat. Instinctively, she raised her arms in protection, but by then she wasn¡¯t in the small scroll-filled room anymore.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Aya turned around, looking at the white space around her. There was no chair she was sitting on, no table she was writing at, no dusty smell of scrolls around her and not even a noisily squawking bird in the background. She was in a completely empty and blank space until a notification popped up in front of her. A Manic Creature has Chosen You. Do You Wish to Accept? Yes | No Aya considered the screen for a moment. She didn¡¯t know much about manic creatures. She knew, from browsing forums, that to some extent they were the source of magic in the game and that the more you had, the more powerful a magic user you were. Other than that, she knew nothing. Shrugging, she accepted, not knowing what possible drawback accepting power could have. [Yes] Before the notification window even finished minimizing itself, the space before Aya was filling itself with scroll upon scroll. They flew in from every corner imaginable, paper flapping through the air as they unrolled themselves. Within seconds, she was surrounded on all sides by a wall of opened scrolls. When the air finally calmed, she turned around to find herself completely encased from top to bottom with thousands upon thousands of scrolls that overlapped each other. The light was gone and there were no notifications left to open. The usual display with her health points and other alerts were also gone. She had absolutely no idea about what she was supposed to do. Aya ran a hand through her cropped hair. The length still surprised her when she wasn¡¯t consciously thinking about the difference between her avatar and her real body. Her eyes skimmed the scrolls around her. She would have felt claustrophobic if her mind hadn¡¯t been busy trying to decipher the writing on the scrolls before her. Approaching them, she lifted her hands towards the scrolls. She didn¡¯t know what texture to expect. The scrolls looked like paper so she was half-expecting the scrolls to simply rip apart with the pressure of her hand. Instead, they were as strong as brick, not giving an inch to her hand. She formed her hands and to fists and hit them against the wall of scrolls. Nothing. She reasoned there must be a way out, but there wasn¡¯t one she could see or feel. She turned her entire focus towards the writings on the scrolls instead. They reminded her of ancient hieroglyphs she¡¯d seen in museums and history shows. Instead of rounded loops, everything seemed to have pointed and jagged edges. The ending stroke of each rune was pointed out, as if on attack. She couldn¡¯t make anything out but the answer to her way out lay before her somewhere and she needed to find where. It was obvious that the whole runic system was the same, probably one of the many languages that the game¡¯s AI had come up with. The scrolls were overlapping and the writing was coming from various directions, sometimes even upside down. She couldn¡¯t make heads or tails of the situation but she doubted her job was to interpret and read a lost language. That was obviously beyond her abilities. She eyed the runes around her, noticing the difference in strokes, the difference in rune sizes and different angles. The runes themselves were part of a bigger image, but there was no way to see what the image was; not when they were splayed all over the place like they were. If she could separate the runes by size and then by¡­ As she thought about the separation of the scrolls, they started coming unglued, moving further away from her, giving her the mental space necessary to organize her thoughts. Aya nodded in excitement as she unconsciously moved toward the scrolls she had just touched. She motioned her hand to the side and the scroll moved as if commanded by it. Aya didn¡¯t miss a beat and swirled around, looking at the rest of the scrolls before she stepped back, and bunched them up in line. She watched as they all flew together to form a long line of scroll dominoes before her. She smiled and sorted them one by one, first by size, then by direction, then by opacity and by the time she knew it, she had a massive dashboard of hundreds of scrolls before her organized in exactly the way she wanted. The group with the smallest number of scrolls was the one with the biggest runes and she could immediately tell that they were linked. She laid them out in front of her, moving her hands in the way she wanted them to move but they often moved as soon as she thought about it, long before her hands came into motion. Bringing all of the twenty or so scrolls with the biggest runes to the forefront, she couldn¡¯t make sense of them at first. Some runes seemed incomplete, like they were cut in half, and others looked so alike she couldn¡¯t tell them apart. Her brain was losing itself in the foreign script when she recognized one of the symbols. It looked like a lowercase, inverted cursive R, exactly how Rin used to write them when she was younger. However, instead of ending, or in this case, beginning with a straight line, the symbol started with a jagged edge. With only one symbol that stood out to her, she could clearly see it every time it showed up in the runes, small or big. One of the scrolls had half of the symbol on it and she found the other half on another of the scrolls with the big runes she had already separated. Continuing to unconsciously move her hands around, she held the scrolls together so that the rune was mended and watched as the scrolls glowed slightly when the runes were lined up exactly right. Aya snapped her fingers and the two scrolls locked on to each other. It was a puzzle and she knew exactly what she had to do now. Bringing the rest of the large runes to the forefront, she tried to find more of the R-like symbols but could not find any. She had no idea what the other symbols looked like complete, so she brought some of the smaller runes forward so she could see the whole rune before trying to puzzle one together. The next rune she found half of looked like a jagged version of the Chinese symbol for ¡°within¡±. Aya knew about a total of three Chinese symbols from the time before the death of her parents. She had once been dragged along to provide moral support for a friend. Back then, she had been known as the artist in their group of friends, but to this day she did not know why she had been chosen. The unfortunate choice of Chinese symbols had nothing to do with her ¡®artistic sensibilities¡¯. She didn¡¯t support human branding to begin with. Who knew the experience would eventually help her in a game, or at all for that matter? The next couple of minutes continued in much the same way. Aya would find a rune she could untangle from the rest of the large runes and build it together with the rest of the large runic lines. Eventually, she had a bunch of small locked pieces of large runes, but none of them spanned more than three scrolls. Mystified as to how everything was supposed to come together, she inspected the scrolls with the large runes until she noticed that most of them had the beginning of a large runic line in the corner of the scroll. She fumbled for the other large rune scrolls and realized that many of the runes had little edges that were incomplete. At first it was hard to find out where one rune began and another started and it was pretty hit-or-miss, but then she noticed that the large runes were creating a bigger shape, one she already knew: a circle. Once she knew that the large runes were eventually coming together to form a circle of gibberish in runes, she was able to quickly assemble it. After the circle was complete and locked in place, she could tell that the outer edges of the circle already had the beginnings of more runes, but in small font this time. She kept using the same techniques, relying mostly on the angle of the writing to find out where the runes fit in the circle. It was slow progress, but after some time, she could see it coming together nicely. It was a large inner circle of runes surrounded by a circle of small runes and then medium-sized runes and so on with varying sizes. By the end, she still had no clue what any of the runes meant, but having to deal with them for so long, she was actually able to tell some of them apart, which made the work a lot faster. It took her almost half an hour but she finished the scroll puzzle and they all started glowing brightly when she placed the last piece. They lit up at the paper edges, passing a fire through the design that burned away the outlines of the paper. Aya was left with one massive convoluted circular diagram of runes she still didn¡¯t know what to do with. She stood before it as the runes started moving. Each circle of runes moved at a different speed in a different direction. The large runes rotated right while the small ones rotated left and the ones in between decided on their own. The motion sped up and with it, there was suddenly wind whipping at Aya¡¯s hair. She lifted her hand to shield her eyes and read the notification she received. You have Acquired a Manic Creature. Current Base Mana: 500 A path lit up before her, with little blue squares leading the way into the middle of the rune circle. The wind was still picking up speed with the runes¡¯ movements so she hurried to the next lit square. They served almost like velcro, keeping her glued to the ground as the wind around her continued to increase in velocity. Aya took another step, even when the step looked like it was suspended in thin air before her. When her feet landed on it, it was as solid as the rest of the place and she kept climbing the lit squares all the way into the middle of the circle. When she arrived, she saw something unexpected. She could see herself, or at least her game avatar, sitting stoically at the desk where she had been copying furiously. The avatar¡¯s small hands still held a quill as she stared directly ahead at a bright light that hovered right before her eyes. Aya was having a hard time wrapping her mind around the image, when she was suddenly pushed through the opening, into the bright light and into her avatar¡¯s forehead. She was still reeling from the ride, adjusting to the fact that she was back in the small room, still sitting at the table, when she saw that the bright light before her was still there. Only this time, it wasn¡¯t just a bright light; she could see a swirl of patterns inside it, the runic patterns she had put together. Aya squinted to see the runes continue to accelerate but was caught off-guard when they rushed at her, hitting her right between the eyes. She couldn¡¯t help lifting her hands to her forehead, to check if the slight coolness she had felt upon impact had left any traces, but there was nothing there. You may now learn Magic Spells that require 500 or less Mana. Magic Spells can be bought. Gained through Quests. Or Learned in Specific Circumstances. Regeneration: 100 Mana / Minute Aya clicked through the rest of the notifications until she realized she wasn¡¯t going to get a explantion. She was still mulling the experience over when she realized that Henry was still in the room with her, squawking vehemently behind her. She glared at him and yelled, ¡°Shut it!¡± He suddenly croaked to a halt. Her Mana went down by 200. Aya stared at his silent presence in surprise until a slow smile spread across her face. She knew then she was going to enjoy her new powers. Chapter 25: Im tired of giving chapters names. Numbers from now on. By the time the third meal rolled around, Aya had already used up over half of her notebook. Her skill continued to rise significantly with persistent use, now proudly hovering at ¡®Medium Slow¡¯. She wondered if she would advance past the ¡®slow¡¯ realm before her sentence was up. With a little over twenty library hours left, she was worried she was going to run out of space in her notebook before either finishing the sentence or leaving the slow realm. Her transcription speed had improved remarkably, much faster than she even thought possible. Sometimes, she would catch her hand almost slipping through practiced motions. The skill worked like a system assist and explained her speed, but it was unnerving nonetheless to work at a pace not achievable in the real world. Without Henry attached to her arm, the cramps had become a lot less frequent and her work had gotten both faster and more precise. Every now and then, she still took some time to stretch out her shoulders while she checked on new documents to transcribe. The small room always felt too cramped, especially since the librarians had taken to locking her inside. It did not occur to her that the new restriction was the result of the one time she had stuck her head out to investigate the hallway.The junior librarian in charge of her meal times showed up while Aya was busy trying to dislodge a ladder from its spot. The rusted tracks it rested on meant that they had theoretically been mobile once upon a time, but the longer she pushed and shoved on the metal, the more she doubted it. The way the tracks ran around the circular room in front of the shelves encouraged her to keep going, even as sweat dripped down her face, stung her eyes and blurred her vision; she would be able to reach even the highest manuscripts if she was able to get the stairs moving. When Aya showed no signs of noticing him, even as she took a break to catch her breath and wipe the sweat away, the forgotten junior librarian cleared his throat She jumped at the unexpected intrusion and swiveled around to find the beady-eyed man looking at her with a look akin to fright. He twitched as he waited for her to walk past him. It was obvious she made him uncomfortable, probably because of her status, though her penchant for unusual activities was probably not helping. ¡®One would think that you couldn¡¯t do much else, other than read, in a library¡­¡¯ Aya smirked at the thought as she walked out of her small room into the deserted corridors of the library. The silent steps of the junior librarian creeped her out a bit. She hadn¡¯t heard or even sensed his approach. She was just grateful the man hadn¡¯t walked into her doing anything worse, like, say, stealing top-secret library secrets and hiding them away in her notebook. Aya shrugged, not seeing how the secrets of the Dalfyr mating season were of interest to anyone other than the Dalfyrees themselves. The stuffy corridor was like a breath of fresh air compared to whatever it was she and Henry had been breathing in their small room for the last eight hours. She sighed in relief and took the time to stretch her shoulders on her way out to the mess hall. As she walked down the library¡¯s empty hallway, the damn bird still followed behind her, pecking at an unseen particle on the ground every now and then. At least, she hoped it was a particle; otherwise, the bird would be adding ¡®extreme stupidity¡¯ to its already extensive list of negative attributes. He looked pained, as if he didn¡¯t want to follow her at all but was compelled to. Every now and then, her Mana would take a hit of a hundred points or so and Henry would squawk in pain before rushing to her side. Aya grinned every time it happened. She would need to take time to look up the exact nature of the bond, manic creatures and mana¡­ she had a lot of things to work on when she got out. In the mess hall, she quietly picked up a meal and sat at an empty table to consider the day. She had worked out that, by the end of the real day, she would almost, but not quite, be done with her sentence in the game. It was both good and bad. It would give her a chance to work out the implications of some of the things she had learned during the day, but it also meant she would have to come back the next day to finish things off. Part of her wondered if she would ever be able to make up the ¡®lost time¡¯ in the library and another part of her wondered just how much she was losing out on. She should be out there in Era, proving her worth as a player and learning from Donovan. Aya wondered if he had taken on another ¡®partner¡¯ and if she would ever find out what quest it was that he needed help with. Knowing him, she knew it would have to be something that literally required you to be in two places at once. For anything less, the boy would have found a way of doing it himself. Thinking of her own skills, she wondered if there was a skill that allowed such a thing in Era. She sighed and pushed her oatmeal around. It reminded her too much of the prison¡¯s gruel. Another part of her wondered if Donovan had even looked for her after she disappeared. It had taken her a while to figure out she couldn¡¯t send any other players messages while serving her sentence. She had first tried contacting him when she landed in jail but he hadn¡¯t shown up on her friend list as online and she hadn¡¯t been able to send him a message. When she had logged on again the next day, he still hadn¡¯t shown up as online and, although she set up an alert to notify her should it change, he never did. Added to the fact that Asterix and Obelisk never came online either, it made her realize that as long as her sentence was ongoing, she would not be able to contact any players she didn¡¯t directly interact with. Aya was debating whether she should eat the gruel or ditch it when Henry squawked uncomfortably from under the table. He liked making his temper known. She rolled her eyes, intending on ignoring him, then noticed that his hunger bar was only three quarters full. Aya smiled. Even bonded, she couldn¡¯t shake the urge to mistreat the bird. Not after what he had put her through before and even since the bond. His feathers almost unplucked themselves when Aya grabbed onto them. She hauled the bird forcefully into her lap. After clamping an arm around him like a vice-grip, she tried to feed him the oatmeal. At first, she treated him like a pesky kid who didn¡¯t want his vegetables, reminding Aya of the very early fights she had with her sister after their parents¡¯ death. Drowning in grief, Rin had refused to cooperate with any of her early attempts. Eventually, the young girl had succumbed to their lifestyle change. Aya still smiled when she remembered the speech her sister had given. Rin had stomped up behind her with all the indignation a ten-year-old could muster. She had tapped her on the shoulder and waited with crossed arms, scrunched brows and pursed lips, until Aya turned around. Then she had delivered the most vehement words a ten-year-old could: ¡°You¡¯re not my mother. I can take care of myself. Stop telling me what to eat, how to dress and what to do. You don¡¯t have any power over me, I¡¯m not a little kid you can boss around. If you have anything you want to say, just say it. From person to person. Jus¡¯ cuz I¡¯m younger doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m stupid.¡± Without even waiting for a response, she had turned around and walked away. Aya, not knowing how to respond, hadn¡¯t. But she needn¡¯t have worried because, from then on, Rin became a different person. She took careful care of her hair, braiding it carefully like her mother had. The first couple attempts had resulted in sloppy and uneven braids but the little girl hadn¡¯t let it deter her. From then on, her clothes were always neat and tidy and even her mannerisms changed. No longer the young girl she once knew, her sister started behaving like a little doll and even talked more correctly than Aya herself did. At first it bothered her a bit, to see her little sister have to grow up so quickly. Life hadn¡¯t been kind to either one of them but, with time, she learned to see it as her sister¡¯s strength and drew on it to create her own survival mechanisms. Not having another choice, they had coped, kept going day after day until¡­ the day Eddie McKlose died. She gritted her teeth at the memory and her thoughts came rushing back to the present. All vestiges of maternity had left Henry¡¯s feeding a long time ago. Instead the scene looked like something straight out of a torture chamber. He was screeching loudly and flapping violently about, having at some point gotten free of her vicegrip. Aya could feel fresh scratches on her face, oozing with warmth. A quick wipe with the back of her hand confirmed it was blood. She glared at the bird and set out to reaffirm her dominance. The commotion had long since gotten the attention of the entire room. Everyone looked on, in communal shocked silence, as she nearly strangled the bird to death, holding his head down on the table with her knee. She climbed on after him, repositioning herself so each wing was under one of her knees. Using the rest of her body weight to anchor his body to the table, she used her freed hands to grab for the gruel. Seconds later, Henry was receiving days of pent-up rage in the form of spoonfuls of oatmeal. He squabbled, refusing to eat the food. His diet had been substituted by blood for too long and he was no longer able to stomach normal food like he should, not when the bloody meals made him feel more alive than he ever had. He would rather starve than succumb to the irate figure on top of him which had caused him so much grief, first tearing him away from his family, then refusing to feed him for days and then addicting him to the vile grease of beasts. Shame washed over him at the thought of his mates seeing him this way. As the next spoonful of mush came his way, he refused as much as he could, clamping down his beak with as much force as he could. Unfortunately, the small girl that loomed over him had her own stubborn streak and plugged the air holes on top of his beak. With both refusing to give in and an appalled audience looking on, the bird eventually passed out. Instead of seeing it as her win, the girl on top of the bird grinned sadistically and stuffed more oatmeal down its beak. The bird never swallowed though and when, a couple minutes later, all that she had accomplished was a pile of oatmeal near his head, she threw in the towel, glaring at the passed-out bird as she sat down to finish the gruel. When the girl picked up the spoon she had been using to so viciously force-feed one of Era¡¯s creatures to stuff herself, the group of librarians erupted. Their silence was replaced by murmurs of disapproval which gave way to protests of behavior and rising voices. It took Aya a moment to realize she was the source of the commotion. She watched on in horrified fascination, still feeding herself the rest of the gruel. Part of her knew she was about to be kicked out and took the eye in the storm as her last moments of getting a free meal. She still had at least another three meal times left in the library and if they didn¡¯t actually feed her during those meal times, she would definitely have issues with hunger and would probably end up sharing her blood flasks with Henry. Her stomach revolted at the thought but she kept a steady stream of spoonfuls directed at her mouth. Five minutes later, the room was in upheaval, the normally stoic librarians unrecognizable in their agitation. More and more librarians rushed in to see what the commotion was about. At first, they tried subduing the ones present but they too were soon shouting and screaming. Minutes later, others would try subduing them. The cycle continued until the initial dozen or so librarians had turned into over fifty. The last of the oatmeal scratched its way down Aya¡¯s throat. The window where she usually dropped her plate off was behind the mass of librarians. She was unsure whether or not she should just leave her things on the table and leave but the door was also covered by the horde of angry librarians. Although she had seen most of the spectacle develop, she had no idea what she had done to incite the librarians so much. ¡°Outworld Filth!¡± One of the librarians called out from within the mass. She couldn¡¯t see who it was but the voice seemed to rouse Henry out of his unconsciousness. He twitched a bit before slowly struggling to his feet. The bird¡¯s movements silenced the room so that the only thing that could be heard was the breathing of a large group of unhappy people and a LayHen struggling to his feet.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Aya watched in silence as Henry got back on his feet. The bird eyed the librarians to one side of the rooms lazily before he turned his attention to the nemesis of his life. For the first time ever, it seemed like he was on equal footing, eying her at the same level as he stood on the table before her. He craned his neck up, holding himself proudly. Aya thought she saw the bird direct a glare of pure hatred at her, but decided she had imagined it. A bird couldn¡¯t possibly feel as much as she saw reflected in its black eyes. Especially not when she was the victim in the relationship. As if to reaffirm her thoughts, the bird suddenly lunged at her, attacking her face as he used his feet to cling to her hair. Stunned in surprise, her body didn¡¯t immediately respond as the bird attacked, pecking at her bloodied face. All thoughts of the audience around them were immediately forgotten and Aya began a counterattack of her own. She was too busy subduing the bird to notice Aizan entering the room to begin his own subduing campaign. All she knew was that when she finally managed to get Henry under control five minutes later, she was alone in the room with the man. The look he leveled her lacked a gram of understanding but more than made up for it with a ton of irritated indignation. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but immediately clamped it back shut and instead raised a shaky hand that pointed to the door. It was obvious she had done something really wrong. She hadn¡¯t forgotten the crowd of onlookers, though she did wonder how they had disbanded so quickly. She still had no idea what had upset the librarians so much but she wasn¡¯t about to throw away a get-out-of-jail-free card. She jumped to her feet and headed out the door as fast as she could with the struggling bird still in her arms. As the door clanked closed behind her, she came faceto-face with a couple librarians who directed glares at her, particularly at the bundle in her arms. Sensing Henry was the source of displeasure, she dropped him to the ground and scurried off in the direction of her small room. The bird followed closely on her tail, her mana diminishing quickly as it forced Henry on with audible cries of pain. She made it back to her room in record time. The junior, however, was long gone and she didn¡¯t see anyone outside her room in charge of locking her in. Feeling safer in the familiar space, she heaved a sigh of relief as she leaned back against the closed door. There was a constant cloud of fear hovering over her because of her use of the notebook, but that fear was nothing compared to the paralysis she had felt in the mess hall. She only realized it now, but she had been incredibly stupid. It was already quite obvious that she didn¡¯t have a favorable reputation with the members around the library. She shouldn¡¯t have done anything to antagonize them and give them extra reason to want to get rid of her. Although she didn¡¯t know what exactly had turned them against her, she knew for sure it had something to do with her treatment of Henry. She shot the bird at her feet a vicious glare. It strutted around non-responsively. Rolling her eyes, she pushed herself away from the door and back towards her workstation. She would strive to keep a low profile from now on. She had to make sure she didn¡¯t get kicked out or increase her sentence. Being stuck in the library was definitely not the best use of her Era time but it sure beat the more time-consuming alternative. The junior had already taken away all of her recent work, along with the matching original documents. She trailed through the emptied shelves with satisfaction. It was good to see her work amount to something. After another minute of self-congratulation, she returned her attention to the rusted staircase. It was ornate in its detailed carving and reached all the way to the top shelves of the little room. Before she uncovered it from the almost waist-high pile of scrolls that now rested beside it, she hadn¡¯t even been able to recognize it as a set of stairs. The only reason she had unburied it in the first place was because of a particular scroll she had sighted in the opposite side of the room. She had been working on one of her transcriptions when something shined in her eye. Aya had looked around trying to find it, but couldn¡¯t spot anything amidst the piles of paper that had a reflective surface. After resuming work, she had been interrupted again, minutes later, by the same gleam. She looked up but again, she hadn¡¯t been able to find anything. The same process had repeated itself a couple times before Aya had finally had enough. Dumping her quill into the ink pot, she had stood up with such force that her chair had been knocked back. She stomped around the room, scouring it for anything that could have reflected light into her eyes, but found nothing. Eventually, when she had been about to give up and attribute it to a trick of the light through the grimy windows, she caught the reflection once more. Only, as amazing as it might seem, it didn¡¯t turn out to be a reflection at all. She hadn¡¯t believed it herself at first but in the highest shelved alcove of the small room, a scroll glowed as if aflame. Aya had blinked, trying to clear her vision, but as much as she tried to dispel it, the scroll remained. She tried climbing the shelves to get a closer look but, although most of the shelves could take the weight of her slight frame, two from that column of shelves had creaked so loudly she had been too scared to proceed. She tried circumventing it by climbing the nearest column, but, with her small body, was unable to get high enough to reach the middle of the highest shelf next to it. She was about to give up on the enterprise when she spotted the stairs. She had thought it was a mere bookcase placed in the packed room for additional storage, but as the scrolls came off of the stairs, they revealed themselves for what they truly were and Aya¡¯s excitement began to grow. If she were able to use the stairs, she would be able to reach a much greater number of scrolls and have a much bigger selection at her disposal. As it was, she was already running low on interesting material. In fact, her most recent set of transcriptions revolved around the laws, etiquettes and ancestry of the aristocracy of the region. So now Aya stood in front of the cleaned-out stairs, still unable to budge them from their location. It had initially seemed like a worthy use of her time, but as she was still unable to get it to move an inch, she wondered if she was better off just getting back to work. She looked up to see the scroll in the opposite side of the room still glowing. Sighing in resignation, she headed to her workstation to relieve herself of the bags she had rarely parted with since the beginning of the game. Aya had known herself long enough to know that, in the long run, her curiosity would get the best of her so she might as well resign herself to it now instead of letting it distract her for the next couple hours. Especially knowing she¡¯d end up doing the exact same thing, only later. Unburdened by the weight and awkwardness of her pack, Aya was able to move around more freely. She shoved at the ladder without fear of breaking her own belongings. Aya was in the process of ramming into the stairs with her shoulder when the door slammed open with a loud and echoing bang. Surprise skewed Aya a little off-course, causing her to hit the stairs at an awkward angle, which then sent her tumbling into the shelves like a ping-pong ball. After painfully smacking her head into one of the shelves, she ended up sprawled on the ground with scrolls cascading on top of her. Aizan stood by the open door. It was obvious from the red shades of his face that he was not very pleased with her. But as she watched them darken into purple, she realized her tomb of scrolls had only made it worse. She began to carefully extricate herself from the scrolls around her, trying to appease the librarian with the special care she took. ¡°Stop!¡± he screamed at the top of his lungs. The word crashed into the room with such force that its echoes caused aftershocks in the scroll dishevelment and even escaped into the open hallway behind the librarian. Aya stilled, knowing any movement, even the right one, would upset the librarian in his current state. The man was sweating and out of sorts with the breath huffing out of him in a ragged rhythm. It was strange to see a man, that was usually so well put together, come apart like that. Even stranger knowing she was the one responsible, though she still wasn¡¯t quite sure how. Henry chose that inopportune moment to cluck noisily before making a dash for the exit. Unfortunately for everyone, the distance activated the mana leash that zapped the bird every time he left her side and he squawked painfully after flying two feet in the air. Aizan clenched his fists at the sight, swiveled around and banged the door closed behind him so Henry couldn¡¯t attempt another escape. The action seemed to calm the man a little and although the purplish hue still dominated his expression, he had regained control of his breathing and shaking limbs. He folded his arms and stared her down before addressing her. It had the desired effect. Aya swallowed, feeling like a misbehaving school girl who was about to be told off in front of class. ¡°What were you thinking?¡± Aya knew from his expression that he expected her to know what he was talking about. She thought that asking would infuriate the man but the longer she thought about what to say, the more his brows furrowed and she ended up sputtering her initial response, ¡°About what?¡± Not the right answer. ¡°About what!?¡± he yelled. ¡°About your abhorrent behavior in the mess hall! You¡¯re here under my recommendation! Anything you do is a reflection of me!¡± She didn¡¯t know what to say. ¡°The only reason you haven¡¯t been kicked out after treating a sacred creature of Era the way you have is because of your uncanny ability with the quill.¡± He looked around the room accusingly. ¡°Though it seems you aren¡¯t putting that to use like you should either.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not what it looks like, there¡¯s this scroll that¡ª¡± she began, pointing at it. ¡°I should have let them take you back,¡± he cut her off. ¡°I thought it was a sign. You had been doing so well¡­ I was going to offer you a more permanent¡­ Well¡­ That all doesn¡¯t matter now.¡± He sighed heavily while he considered her crumpled form. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for¡­ whatever it was I did,¡± she tried again. His eyes hardened and her words faltered. She knew she was just making things worse but both her silences and her apologies were not helping and she didn¡¯t know what else to do. Aya felt like a guppy; opening and closing her mouth, but unable to say anything. Henry strutted in front of her, trailing his tail behind him like a lizard. An unusual behavior for the bird who always proudly held it up high. It slithered behind him and smacked into the base of her carefully erected pyramid of scrolls by the stuck set of stairs. They tumbled to the ground in disarray. She glared at him and could have sworn he returned her look with a sneer. She wanted to jump up and tackle the bird that had gotten her into the position in the first place, but decided to just sit still lest she make things worse. ¡°What you did,¡± Aizan said, ¡°is attack a creature of a species that is going into extinction.¡± Aya couldn¡¯t help but eye the librarian dubiously as she watched Henry be his usual petulant self. ¡°And you chose to do it in front of a crowd that values the preservation and spread of knowledge above all else. You chose to do this knowing you are unwanted and unliked by most. And you chose¡ª¡± The librarian scrunched his eyes closed and pinched the bridge of his nose as if trying to fend off a migraine. ¡°You know what? It does not matter. You were very stupid today¡­.¡± The man veered a look at Henry whose head was under his wing, plucking as his leathery feathers. ¡°I thought highly of you¡­ With your skill¡­ And your apparent regard for the prized LayHen and its unlikely regard for you¡­¡± His eyes turned sad and he added, ¡°I was mistaken.¡± Aya didn¡¯t know what to say. It didn¡¯t seem like a good idea to voice her thoughts on any aviary matters and before she could think of anything else, the man¡¯s irritated resolve returned. ¡°Perhaps I am the stupid one. To trust a petty thief¡­¡± ¡°But I¡ª¡± ¡°Your mess hall privileges have been suspended,¡± he cut her off in a clipped tone. ¡°You will carry out the remainder of your sentence in this room without interference. I hope you have learned your lesson, but know this: Should you give me a reason, any reason whatsoever, I will make your life hell. You will wish you had never stepped foot into this world.¡± And with that he turned around and left the room in an angry rustle of robes. The door slammed shut behind him and the lock ¡®thunked¡¯ loudly into place not soon after. For a moment Aya was unsure if she should move or not. Henry had no such inhibitions as he continued to strut around the room. From his attitude, one would think he laid eggs of gold, when in fact he didn¡¯t lay any at all, useless male that he was. Aya stood up, carefully trying to disrupt as few scrolls as possible. Across the room, small group of scrolls dislodged themselves from their high position in the shelves and tumbled unceremoniously to the ground. Aya decided she should be a good girl and give up on her wild-goose-chase, focus on transcribing more legal aristocratic rights, lest she get an increased sentence. It was time she behaved more like herself, more like ¡®Chris¡¯. She organized the fallen scrolls into piles and was walking toward her workstation when a gleam caught her eye. Chapter 26 Aya emptied her workstation with a few hurried armfuls of scrolls, placing them on the shelf the junior librarian had cleared. After depositing her pack under the table, she sat down and, with great care, arranged the glowing scroll in front of her. It seemed like a miracle that out of the thousands of scrolls in the room, this precise one had chosen to fall to the ground with the slam of the door. Contrary to the flame-like glow, the paper felt crisp and cool to the touch. She analyzed the scroll from all angles and realized there were actually two separate sheets rolled together. Part of her thought she should err on the side of caution and wait for Aizan or one of the other librarians to take a look at the irregular scroll. She didn¡¯t need to antagonize them any further by defiling one of their rare and special scrolls. One day of scroll transcription did not make her the regional scroll-master, but the scroll definitely didn¡¯t fit into the normal scroll category. If the cool flames that surrounded it weren¡¯t enough proof of that, there was also the oddity of the velvet ribbon that held it together. Almost all of the scrolls Aya came across either didn¡¯t need any fastening or were held together by thin strips of leather. Every now and then, she would come across one that was tied in yarn or twine. On the other end of the spectrum were scrolls held together with ornate, metal badge-like clasps displaying the house crest of some noble family that was clearly compensating for something. Aya had learned to avoid these as they were often works of a wanna-be-scholar in the family. The soft crimson ribbon in her hands was decorated in the same style as the border of many of the scrolls she had transcribed. Aya guessed it was a fad of a time period, though she didn¡¯t know what time period and some really old transcripts cast doubt on her theory. The floral patterns were often a nice reprieve after a dozen or so bare scrolls. She greatly enjoyed the written information on the pages but every now and then, it was nice to give her artistic side a little freedom to doodle away the floral borders. Seeing the border pattern stretched out on the half-inch ribbon stirred a certain familiarity in her. It was like a word on the tip of her tongue that she just couldn¡¯t remember. Eventually, she decided it was just the oddity of seeing the pattern presented differently. By the time Aya remembered her cautious side that didn¡¯t want to further anger the librarians, she was already undoing the ribbon and setting it aside. Her curiosity got the better of her and she justified it with the fact that she had tried to tell Aizan about it. It was not her fault if he chose not to listen. The ribbon slipped smoothly aside and before Aya could touch the paper, it unfurled itself so it rested unnaturally flat on the table. As she suspected, there was another piece of paper curled inside, but unlike the outer one, it remained curled and bobbed from side to side after its parent abandoned him. The behavior of the paper unsettled Aya a bit. She had to remind herself that it was just a game before picking up the interior piece of paper that was displaying more natural, scroll-like behavior. Then again, perhaps she was the one going crazy in the small room. After all, wasn¡¯t it she who had just personified and assigned a parent to a lifeless piece of parchment? Sighing in resignation, she spread the interior piece out beside the other, using paperweights to keep it from curling back up. Side by side, she compared the contents of the scrolls and realized they were completely different. While the interior sheet contained the smallest and most cramped writing she had seen so far, filling every section of the page, the contents of the outside page were the real surprise. The page itself was almost completely blank, the right side particularly so. The surprising feature was the familiar runes on the document. Instead of the circles upon circles of runes she had puzzled together, the document only had two. They were both on the left side, one inside the other. When Aya unconsciously leaned down to get a closer look, she was surprised to feel heat rising from the previously cool document. Holding her hand above the page, she noticed that only the left side felt warm. Directing her attention to the right, she tried to work out the strange empty, incomplete feeling she got from it. It seemed that for all intents and purposes, runes were just randomly thrown about the page, but when she angled her head and looked closer, she realized that the right side was also a circle of runes, a very incomplete circle. By the time she noticed, Aya was holding the scroll in her hand while she analyzed the right side. It was disconcerting to feel the coolness of the back paired with the heat of the front left and neutral temperature of the front right part of the scroll. Focused on the scroll, Aya didn¡¯t notice when Henry began to rummage through the abandoned pile of scrolls on the ground. They were soon spread in disarray around the whole room and he eventually encountered the pack she had laid aside. Emboldened by her inattention, he rummaged for the viscous and addicting substance she kept hidden from him. Aya was too busy trying to understand the scroll to notice when Henry succeeded in not only finding but pecking a hole into one of her blood-filled water bags. She could make out some of the runes, remembering the ones that had given her particular trouble during the manic creature challenge. It was one thing to recognize a rune and a completely different thing to understand them. Still puzzling over the runes and their potential importance, she transcribed them as she had so many other scrolls before. Maybe it was a consequence of the runic puzzle she had solved, but Aya couldn¡¯t help looking at the incomplete right side without feeling the urge to finish it. The interior notes she transcribed only fueled the need when she realized it contained instructions on how to decipher the runic circles. The scholar responsible for the notes explained how he came across an almost-complete, runic circle by accident, engraved in an ancient tomb. He went into detail about how he kept the rest of his research party from discovering any of the Forgotten Knowledge he uncovered. Although it was interesting that he went to such lengths to keep others from a couple of runes, especially since the scholar himself seemed to be drawing various untested conclusions, she wished he had spent more time explaining the actual runes and their meanings. It was vague and the scholar was not very clear with his words, but Aya eventually worked out that the two left circles were complete and had the power to capture a Corrupted Creature. Aya still remembered the initial explanation of how Era¡¯s gates were being unlocked to allow Corrupted Creatures into the world, but she still hadn¡¯t encountered any herself. The right circle, in turn, was meant to ¡®free¡¯ the captured creature. It was counterintuitive and Aya wondered why the man even bothered with the right runic circle. But later in the notes, he went into great detail on how he had worked out the positions of the few runes by discerning the ¡®exact opposite¡¯ rune on the right circle. She figured there was something she wasn¡¯t quite understanding, some piece of information the man thought so basic he hadn¡¯t included it. Aya really wished he had. Even more curious as to the effect of the right circle, she couldn¡¯t help just staring at it, wishing she had the knowledge to complete it. The scholar¡¯s notes described months of work to place only the dozen or so runes of the circles on the right. There were two, one inside the other, just like the left ones. She sighed, knowing a couple of hours wouldn¡¯t be nearly enough time to even make a dent into finding the answer. Aya tried to roll the original scroll up as she had found it, but every time she rolled up the temperamental outside scroll, it would snap back open on the table. Needless to say, it was very strange behavior for a scroll and she considered trying force along with the ribbon, but decided against it since setting it aside coincided with her personal interests. She set it in the topmost right corner of the table and got up to find another scroll to transcribe. Distracted by looking at the time and looking at the shelf of previously separated scrolls, Aya didn¡¯t even notice the ever messier state of the ground. She would have been horrified to find a handful of scrolls seeping in the blood her much-beloved, and nearly extinct, blood-partner had spilled, but instead she just sat back down, ignorant of the ever-worsening disaster zone around her. She had spent over thirty minutes investigating the scrolls and was very conscious of how much time she had left before the librarians showed up, if they showed up. Knowing she couldn¡¯t give them any more reason to kick her out, especially after Aizan¡¯s threat, she decided that too much time had already been wasted with the glowing scroll, regardless of how special and tempting it seemed. Full of purpose and resolve, she opened the new scroll, only to find the familiar border on the edges of the page. Her eyes darted back to the still-glowing and beckoning scroll, but she forced them towards the task at hand and began the familiar process of transcription. As always, she began with the writing on the page. It was much easier to eye the positioning and sizing of letters than the floral pattern of the border, especially since the pattern was always slightly different. It even looked like it was added on as an afterthought. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Happy with the distraction of the border, she was absent-mindedly doodling along when something clicked into place. Her hand froze. The runic puzzle, the ribbon, the border patterns and the glowing scroll, all the clues finally fit together and she was able to remember her forgotten word. Not sure if she should trust her instincts, she leaned over the scroll she was transcribing to get a closer look. Her eyes widened involuntarily along with the grin on her face; it was there. In the page¡¯s floral border there were hidden runes. She recognized a few from memory and after bringing the glowing scroll closer, she recognized a couple more. Aya could barely contain her excitement as she rifled through her notebook, happy she had decided to copy the borders of the scrolls after all. At first, she had wondered if she should waste time on it, but eventually, she had decided to draw them out as well. There weren¡¯t many of the bordered scrolls, it was a nice break from the monotonous work and her entrepreneurial self couldn¡¯t pass up the opportunity. Having exact copies of library documents might be useful in the future. The smile dominating her face when she found the borders soon gave way to a concentrated frown. She could work out where the runes were, though some were tricky to find, and she wondered if she¡¯d found them all, but what good were they to her? Aya¡¯s excitement ebbed. The only page that gave the runes any meaning were the cramped notes of the scholar. In them, he gave the definition of over a hundred runes. Most of them were used in the complete left circle of runes on the glowing scroll. Their meanings centered around ties, purity, balance, neutralization and containment. After all, its purpose was to capture a Corrupted Creature. The runes used on the incomplete right circle were of the opposite nature. They related to choice, freedom, peace and movement. Using the meanings available to her, Aya scanned the borders once again. She took a couple minutes to write out all of the runes that she could find, though she kept re-checking the borders in case she missed any. She missed a lot. In the end, she had meanings for less than a fifth of the runes. Flipping through the pages, she considered her next move. All of the borders were different with different runes, but to what end? The information was being hidden from someone, but from who and why? These questions were running through her mind when she stopped to look at the scroll she had the most deciphered runes for. With only about a quarter of the runes, she couldn¡¯t even begin to infer the rest of the meanings. Sighing, she turned her attention to the writing on the page, wondering if- really, just hoping - there was some sort of hidden key. But if there was a key, how would she know how to find it? Or what it would look like? After trying to read it sideways, backwards and even diagonally, she couldn¡¯t find anything that made sense. She was about to take out another scroll so she could compare them side by side when she noticed the subject matter of the scroll. It described in detail how to catch, cage and tame a Rockyno. A small inkling of an idea came to her and she quickly leafed to a different page to check if it could be true. It was a page about the great escape of Sylfia, the water princess that wanted to be with the fire prince. A real Romeo and Juliet story. But the subject didn¡¯t matter; what mattered was that the runes for ¡®freedom¡¯ and ¡®escape¡¯ were both in the border. It was a translation! The new revelation brought another excited shiver. She smiled and leafed through the other scrolls just to be sure. Her theory confirmed, she set about trying to decipher the runes. If it was worth hiding in the margins, it was worth knowing. The scholar had called it the Forgotten Knowledge and had gone through all kinds of trouble to keep it hidden. If the man was willing to do all that, then the information was definitely worth something. Perhaps even enough to help her fix her Goldilocks player ranking. Perhaps it wasn¡¯t so bad that she had ended up in jail after all. Emboldened, she turned quill to a new page in her notebook and started making a list of all the distinct runes. It was a daunting task. With more than five hundred distinct runes, she doubted she would be able to work anything out. Aggravated, she wondered where to even start. Picking up a scroll, she wondered how the next person could make heads or tails from the scroll. The runes were all jumbled about in no particular order. As she thought about that, she realized she might be onto something, she leaned in closer. At first she couldn¡¯t see anything that pointed to an order of any kind. She even gave up on the first scroll and moved back to the one about Sylfia. It was there that she realized that each rune was connected to two other runes by the vines in the pattern, all with the exception of two: the head and the tail of the tale. She had never been happier over the standard format of a story. Without a beginning, a middle and an end, she doubted she would have worked it out. Taking out a page of her notebook, she rewrote all of the runes in the order in which they appeared. Aya wasn¡¯t quite sure what was the beginning and what was the end, but she figured she could work it out with the written original. By the time she made her last string of runes, they flowed much more easily from the quill. Although more runes were already translated on the Rockyno scroll, she started with Sylfia¡¯s simply because she knew which side was the beginning. It was slow going, but having the scholar¡¯s definite meanings served as landmarks that she could use to gauge where in the translation she was supposed to be. The first time around, she left many blank, but as she caught rune repetitions, she was able to create even more landmarks. Every now and then, she guessed at a meaning and was completely off, forcing her to redo a lot of the work. By the time she was translating the fourth document, she was noticeably better at it, guessing right more often than not. It helped to have the runes used in different scenarios throughout the different scrolls, as it allowed her to narrow down the possibilities of the meaning. She was so focused on the task that she didn¡¯t even notice her hand beginning to cramp until her quill suddenly blotthed the whole paper with ink and tore a hole into the page. Aya cursed under her breath while quickly dabbing at the ink with the bottom of her shirt. ¡°That¡¯s the problem with short sleeves¡­¡± she muttered. As the ink dried up, she sat back and sighed. She let her head sink back as she rolled her shoulders that were also cramped. Now that she was listening to her body, she realized she was pretty much hurting everywhere. Even her inactive legs felt like they weren¡¯t getting enough circulation. She needed to stand up and move around a bit. Her progress excited her and she wanted to get right back to it, but she could spare a minute to let her virtual body rest. She almost chuckled at the fact that she was stretching a figment of her imagination. Why anyone would welcome the pain that was just as bad, if not worse than¡­ Both her chuckle and her thoughts died when her eyes registered the state of the room. Aya could feel the blood draining from her face as she took in the bloodied ground and crumpled scrolls. Her items were scattered all about the room and there were bird tracks everywhere. Literally everywhere. It was like the bird had purposefully walked into the puddle of blood like it was a ink-stamp cartridge, and then proceeded to find as many scrolls as possible to walk and leave his mark on. The blood slowly, and then quickly returned to her face with a vengeance. She jumped to her feet, toppling the chair over. Aya cringed when she saw it land and crumple even more scrolls. The sight of Henry walking into a big puddle of drying blood redirected her attention. ¡°You little piece of¡­¡± She was so angry, she could barely express herself. It was an anger drenched in fear and panic. Aya checked the time. There were only two hours left. Her heart thrummed in her throat as she thought of the consequences. If she didn¡¯t find a way to clean the room before they returned she would be gone. And if she was gone she would never find the secrets of the scroll. She might need more scrolls to transcribe. She had to find more bordered scrolls. And after she filled out the right circle, if it was even possible, she needed the original. Both her notebook copy and the copy she made for the library didn¡¯t glow like the original. There was obviously something special about it, something inside it. She didn¡¯t know if ¡®freeing¡¯ a Corrupted Creature was a good idea, but she had a feeling there was more to it. But if she was kicked out she would never find out and it was all because of the damn bird. She balled her fists and marched toward him. Henry was looking away and didn¡¯t notice her approach until she was almost upon him, but when he sensed her, he immediately took off. Aya scampered after him but was unable to even get close to him. In closed quarters, he had the advantage and he knew it. After wasting a whole minute on it, she decided it would be a waste of time. A gratifying waste of time, but a waste of time nonetheless. What she really needed to do was clean the place up and take stock of the situation. Five minutes later she had her things repacked, the blood cleaned up and the scrolls sorted by damage. During her cleaning spree, Aya realized an additional problem: she hadn¡¯t transcribed a single scroll. Well, she had transcribed one but after all the effort she put into the project, she didn¡¯t want to give it away, especially since she would run the risk of them taking it away from her, unfinished. Henry was still running freely about the room, but without blood and further ¡®tools of disaster¡¯ there was not that much damage to be done. She directed a glare at him filled with promises of later retribution. Before beginning, she put away the glowing scroll, hiding it amongst the thousands of other scrolls. Its glow had gone undetected for years; she hoped it would continue to do so for the next couple of hours. Her mind itched to tackle the translation again, but she forced herself to return to the workstation, cursing her previous transcription speed. She would never be able to transcribe enough to satisfy Aizan in the two hours that were left. After his explicit statement concerning her skill¡¯s function as her only saving grace, she knew that a failure to perform would be fatal in her case. Her library privileges, her game sentence, her player ranking, her real-life sentence, her entire future hinged on her performance during the next couple of hours. Aya picked up her quill and started transcribing the first and most Henry-damaged scroll. Ignoring the splotches of blood and pecks at the parchment, she tried not to think about how Henry might have already decided her future for her. Chapter 27 Aya sighed and realized she needed a new strategy. Not even a full scroll into the task and she knew it wouldn¡¯t work. Henry had simply done too much damage and there was no way to undo it. She rubbed her eyes in resignation, then she looked at the cramped shelves around her. Her progress was visible and had already taken some of the strain out of the overfilled room, but there was definitely still room to hide a couple dozen damaged scrolls. A tired smile ghosted over her face as she walked over to the ladder. It would be simpler to pull off with easy access to the high shelves. She pushed limply at the ladder, fully expecting it not to budge, but it did. It screeched along with an ear-piercing, rusty howl. In her excitement to get it moving and set her plan into action, she almost didn¡¯t notice the splotches of blood along the track. Kneeling, she dabbed a finger at the substance, needing to make sure she was really seeing right. For once, the chicken¡¯s unfortunate existence had worked in her benefit, but she was too afraid to celebrate anything just yet. It seem that each time she took a step forward, the game would push her back two. Picking up a handful of Henry¡¯s massacred scrolls, Aya headed up the ladder. She had to make sure it wasn¡¯t going to happen this time, or - she gritted her teeth - any other time. She hid dozens of soiled scrolls between and behind the thousands of intact ones. Her conscience suffered throughout the whole ordeal, but it wasn¡¯t like she had much of a choice in the matter. In less than five minutes, it was done. Aya walked to the entrance to scrutinize her work. Relief and satisfaction washed over her when she couldn¡¯t spot them from the distance, especially when not actively looking for them. Her work was far from over though, and she headed back to the workstation, already dreading the increasingly-uncomfortable chair. In her opinion, the wooden thing was getting far too intimate with her backside. She couldn¡¯t wait to sever the relationship, but for now, she had work to do. After grabbing a random stack of unbloodied and untarnished scrolls, she set to work with a vehemence only known to procrastinators and over-achievers. Soon, she was back in the rhythm of things, still using her Scribe skill when able. The hidden scrolls festered in the back of her mind but she comforted herself with the fact that she was a prisoner. This behavior was expected of her kind. It was part of the contract, so to speak. It was not her fault if they didn¡¯t read the fine print. She scoffed. There was nothing fine about the glaring label hovering over her head. ¡°Yep, definitely not my fault¡­¡± The sad thing was, it really wasn¡¯t her fault, but the longer she spent living as a convict, the more she found herself actually behaving like one. It was a classic catch-22. They put her in jail to supposedly rehabilitate her, to get rid of her ¡®criminal aspect¡¯, but the only way to survive in jail was to become a criminal. Saints didn¡¯t survive in hell. Aya was still thinking along these lines when half an hour simply vanished. She set herself a timer that glared at her in bold red numbers. Anything to keep instilling the need for speed. Her notebook had been abandoned long ago. There simply was no time and in the end, its existence might be the only thing keeping her in the library. They thought she was good, but they had no idea how much work she really could get done. At least that is what she told herself for another half hour. Nervous sweat accumulated on the nape of her neck, creating an uncomfortable mugginess that hovered over her. The moment her timer dropped below an hour, Aya knew she needed a new strategy. Continuing at the rate she was at would only give her about half of her usual transcriptions and relying on Aizan¡¯s good intentions was simply out of the question. She considered arguing her way out of it. Detailed scrolls always took longer and, if she could use her scribe skill to transcribe enough of them, they might believe her. The timer blinked angrily, reminding her it wouldn¡¯t be enough. Her fingers began to tremble slightly when she reached out for another pile of scrolls. It wasn¡¯t like they could see the detail from the outside anyway. The chances of them taking her word for it were slim to none. Her thoughts echoed in her mind and she stilled, cogs and wheels turning. She ran back to the shelves. It was a quick run of two steps. She had to see if it would even be possible. It was impossible to tell what a scroll would be like from the outside. Certain factors like scroll binding, paper quality and type could be indicative, but it wasn¡¯t an exact science. Aya had learned to instinctively sort through the scrolls in the same way she used to sort through people at the register. The scrolls were mostly old, but every here and there Aya spotted a whiter scroll. She retrieved a couple and held them next to one of her finished products. The difference was visible, but not enough for her to declare it unfeasible. She discarded one, deciding it was too dark and went on the search for more. It took longer than expected to find ¡®new-looking¡¯ scrolls in the midst of the dilapidated collection, but four minutes later she had accumulated thirteen scrolls. About three hours worth of work. At least, that is how long it would take if every single scroll extremely detailed, she forgot to use her scribe skill every now and also took extremely detailed copies in her notebook. With the scrolls she had already transcribed, she had a total of five hours accounted for. In the remaining fifty-five minutes she could optimistically push through another two hours worth. That left her with a whole unaccounted hour. Aya piled her scrolls strategically, mixing and matching them so that her subterfuge would not be obvious. There was a good layer on top that was ¡®real¡¯, a few scattered in the middle and a moderate base. People rarely took the effort to check beyond the surface. She¡¯d worked in the service industry; she would know. The base had been added as insurance. She had no idea what they did with the scrolls after they took them away, but if they sorted through them, the bottom scrolls might buy her some time. After all, LIFO. Aya chose the scrolls to ¡®match¡¯ their ¡®transcriptions¡¯ by apparent age. She looked for older scrolls, hoping the fakes would look newer in comparison. She was happy with the result but knew it wouldn¡¯t be enough. Unwilling to spend any more time looking for scrolls, she headed back to the workstation. ¡®New-looking¡¯ scrolls were rare and she had already gathered the easily visible ones. To find any more, she would have to scrounge through them with no certainty of return on investment. She cranked out transcripts as fast as she could, hoping for¡­ anything that would get her out of the mess really. Obviously, there wasn¡¯t a miracle, though her scribe skill did profit from her increasingly rushed use of it. The skill thrived on diversity, and until then, Aya had been sticking to a routine, a transcription rut. With a little less than ten minutes left to go, Aya knew for sure she was doomed. There just wasn¡¯t enough time. An hour¡¯s worth of missing work was too much to cover, especially with her conservative margin of predictions for the seven that she did have. As it was, she might as well fill the pile with total blanks, so it would at least look sufficient. Her hand stilled. Why not? Keeping one eye on the timer and the other on the door, she rose to carry out her plan. She had never paid attention to how punctual Era librarians were. When all was done, her pile of ¡®complete¡¯ scrolls was just as big as the one from her previous session. She cocked her head to the right - maybe even a bit bigger. She took almost half of the blank scrolls out of the mix. The pile was smaller, but big enough she wasn¡¯t too worried the difference would be an issue. She breathed more easily, but not enough to slow her pace. By the time the librarian arrived, she had finished four more transcriptions and was well on her way with the fifth. Forcing herself to breathe calmly, she continued working, even as the librarian entered. She had forgotten to consider which librarian would come, but was happy to see the same junior as last time. Anyone would have been better than Aizan but at least this one was predisposed to think the shelf with the carefully arranged pile was the one where she stored her finished transcripts.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Aya tensed when he walked toward her, but then he laid a small wooden tray on the corner of her workspace. ¡°This is for you,¡± he said. ¡°Please be mindful of the crumbs.¡± His words were polite but his expression, demeanor and tone dripped with derision. Aya kept her face blank and nodded in response before getting back to work. She watched him from the corner of her eye as he looked around suspiciously and Aya wondered if he knew something. ¡°Where is the LayHen?¡± he asked. ¡°The¡­OH!¡± she had completely forgotten about the damn bird. She was looking around when the librarian said, ¡°Ah. Good. It is a disgrace to treat a creature that is still so strongly linked to the Forgotten Realm like that.¡± ¡°Forgotten Realm?¡± she asked. ¡°You don¡¯t know wh¡ª Bah. Outworlders¡­ ¡° He stepped toward the shelf and his back was to her, but she could still hear the disdain in his voice when he said, ¡°It¡¯s a disgrace to let you into the sacred halls of knowledge when you know and care for nothing.¡± ¡°Is it related to the Forgotten Knowledge?¡± she asked. He swiveled before she even finished the question. ¡°How do you know about that?¡± he demanded. She was trying to distract him, but she also didn¡¯t like the way he was treating her. Aya resumed her work while still talking to him, continuing her charade of nonchalance. ¡°Oh it¡¯s just something I heard once.¡± ¡°Where?¡± he asked, clearly agitated. She paused as if in thought, but really just enjoying the moment. ¡°You know,¡± she said finally, ¡°I really don¡¯t remember.¡± And then got back to work. ¡°You don¡ª Who is your gatekeeper? You Outworlders have a stronger connection to the Forgotten¡­ did he say something? Or is it a she?¡± he demanded, losing himself. Aya hid her surprise at his reaction. For the first time, she considered bringing out her scroll and simply telling them the truth. She might get some answers that way. ¡°Tell me now, you filthy thief!¡± he raged. Aya jerked in surprise more than fear. It gave way to irritation and ebbed into resolve. If her even knowing that there was such a thing as Forgotten knowledge agitated the librarian this much, then a piece of the real thing had to be worth a fortune. Not that she had a clue what the real thing was, but she wasn¡¯t about to hand it over to the seething wanna-be librarian. ¡°I would if I could,¡± she said with a shrug. He glared at her and looked like he was about to shout some insults at her again, but then he balled his fists and walked back to the shelf. Taking his back as a sign the conversation was over, Aya got back to work herself though by this point she was mostly pretending. She kept an eye on him and when he started going through the scrolls, she was thankful for her arrangement. She didn¡¯t know his process or if he even had a process. She hadn¡¯t stayed long enough to see before. Each time he picked up a scroll with its matching transcription she prayed it was authentic. Minutes and what seemed like hundreds of scrolls later he still hadn¡¯t come across a fake. It was beginning to look like he would check every single scroll then and there. Her heart was thumping against her rib-cage and the sweat was running down her back in what seemed like torrents. She wasn¡¯t paying any more attention to her pretend-work but kept moving the quill so the scribbling sound continued. It roared in her ears. Part of her mind wondered how the game managed to simulate adrenaline so well while the other watched, as if in slow motion, the librarian picked up a scroll she knew was a blank. She remembered carefully positioning it there only minutes before. Minutes that seemed like hours. Her mouth was dry and her hands felt clammy, and although her hand still moved, she felt paralyzed. ¡°Bwaaaaaaaaaak!¡± Henry chose that moment to make his presence known. It jarred both of them out of the moment, breaking the rhythm of their actions enough for her mind to clear. Still holding the scroll, the librarian was in the process of unfastening it when it hit her that it was her last chance of carrying out her plan, if she had one. She didn¡¯t, but the words burst out of her mouth anyway. ¡°Oh, wait!¡± she said, faking sudden insight. ¡°I think I remember now!¡± He turned to her with boredom anchored in his eyes but it soon gave way to vaulting anticipation. ¡°At the prison there was this¡­ man,¡± she said and a sudden image flashed before her eyes. ¡°This old man. He was saying something about Forgotten Knowledge¡­ Or maybe it was how he was forgetting knowledge¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­¡± she added in as a precaution, lest he blame her for leading her into a dead end. ¡°Who was he? What did he look like?¡± he asked, lowering the dreaded scroll. ¡°Just an old guy. Greasy Hair. Ragged clothes,¡± she said watching his expression. She could tell he was excited, jittery even, but it looked like it wasn¡¯t going to be enough to defeat his sense of obligation. ¡°I think he was in for drunken disorderliness,¡± she prodded, hoping the sentence of drunken disorderliness was known to all in Durrenheim. His eyes furrowed in concentration as he considered her words. ¡°Wait, when did you say this was? This morning?¡± Aya nodded. ¡°Then he¡¯s going to be released soon!¡± he looked up at the window to confirm his suspicions with the dimming light. Aya shrugged. She¡¯d rolled the snowball enough; now, she could only watch. Caring would be suspicious, but the junior librarian didn¡¯t look at all concerned with her, or her scrolls for that matter. In fact, it looked like he wanted to abandon them entirely. ¡°I¡¯ve got to¡­ Now¡­¡± he muttered to himself as he scrambled about to haphazardly secure her oh-so-carefully-erected pile . In less than a minute, he was walking out the door. She followed him with her eyes, still not allowing herself to celebrate, or get distracted. After the librarian¡¯s display, the contents of the glowing scroll beckoned to her more than ever. A scroll slipped from its tenuous position, plopping flatly to the ground. The librarian groaned and looked like he was going to set his whole pile back down again. Aya jumped into action, and not only repositioned the scroll, but helped him secure a couple others. He nodded in appreciation, the first positive interaction they had shared. ¡°And could you¡ª¡± he nodded to the door. ¡°Yea, sure.¡± ¡°And¡­¡± he looked uncertain. ¡°Let¡¯s keep this between us, okay?¡± She feigned a slightly surprised, slightly worried look, but nodded. ¡°Oh¡ª¡± he interrupted when she started to close the door. ¡°One last thing¡­¡± Her heart skipped a beat. ¡°Could you reach in and grab¡­¡± he said, turning sideways to lift his left hip in her direction. ¡°My keys?¡± She gave him a questioning look, but complied. ¡°Just lock yourself in and don¡¯t leave the room. I¡¯ll come for you in the next meal time¡­¡± he said as he started to walk down the hall. ¡°The Senior will probably check to make sure it¡¯¡¯s locked and I¡¯m kinda pressed for time¡­¡± She nodded and he turned away, hurrying his steps. As she closed the door and did as directed, she wondered in the man¡¯s sudden change in attitude. The lock clicked in place before she even noticed a slurry of notifications. One of them explained his immediate attitude change, she had gained a bunch of reputation points. Apparently giving him information he wanted and picking up a scroll were enough to win him over. The NPCs were so realistic and human-like most of the time that she often forgot about the game aspect of things. But it looked like game mechanics and human realism did not always overlap. She, on the other hand, was actually human and it gave her great satisfaction to know the scroll she had picked up was blank. Aya turned to her workstation and grinned at the key in her hand. She didn¡¯t plan on leaving but it meant she would have eight uninterrupted hours to work with. Time to see if she could figure out why the junior librarian had just run out like his robes were on fire. Some of it would have to be spent on transcription work, but that could be done later. She smiled at the key; it wasn¡¯t like he could check on her until the next meal time anyway. Henry squawked in a corner and she beamed at him, too. P.S.: Your Manipulation Tree Thrives! Chapter 28 Aya used the same process as before to translate the remaining runes. It took her over one and a half hours, but she was quite pleased with the final product. Having relied on guesswork for all of it, there was no way to know if it was right or not. Since there was no way for her to check, she didn¡¯t spend time worrying about it. Stretching the stiffness out of her shoulders, she considered her next move. The incomplete right double-circle beckoned. The scholar had spent months on trying to fill it in and there were still only a handful of symbols. She regarded them closely, trying to figure out his methodology. In his notes he had simply written, ¡®reverse¡¯. Now that she understood the runes a bit better, she could actually read the left circles. The outside one was a mixture of capture, imprisonment and neutralization runes that the scholar described as the ¡®cage¡¯ foundation. The inside circle, on the other hand, contained the runes for purity, balance and cleansing. Unlike all of the other scrolls she had translated, the circles had no clear storyline or progression of events. Instead, the runes were simply laid out with apparent randomness. However, going by the scholar¡¯s emphasis on the importance of order, she doubted that was the case. She looked over at the right circle, trying to find the connection between them. One of the runes stood out to her: it meant ¡®peace¡¯. The rune was the closest to the opposite left circle; her eyes just happened to lock on the rune for ¡®war¡¯. ¡®Peace¡¯ and ¡®war¡¯ were opposites; there was no question about it. Them being so close to each other gave her the idea that each rune needed to be paired with its opposite in a mirror fashion. The theory was immediately cast into doubt when she realized that ¡®peace¡¯ was on the inside of the right circle and ¡®war¡¯ was on the outside of the left. Before she discarded the idea though, she wondered if even those had to be reversed. Aya used the handful of right runes to check if she was right. She unknowingly sat up straighter, excited, when it still looked like she could be right. ¡°Alright so¡­ Reverse¡­¡± she mumbled to herself. ¡°Inside circle on the left means outside circle on the right. Bad on the left means good on the right. So far so good¡­¡± She thought it couldn¡¯t be too hard to match the runes with their opposites- at least, not if she had all the meanings right - but a minute later, she realized she was wrong. Even if she had guessed them all correctly, there were so many runes that had such similar meanings that there was no way she could be sure which one to use. It was like deciding if the opposite of good was bad, corrupt, destructive, wicked, or horrible. ¡°No wonder it took you so long, man¡­¡± she said, eyes locked on the scholar¡¯s scribbles. ¡°And here I was, thinking you must have been stupid not to have worked it all out already¡­¡± Unwilling to give up, she sat staring at the circles, trying to find any more patterns. When she¡¯d exhausted all possible comparisons of runic meaning, she started looking at the diagram from an artistic point of view. It couldn¡¯t be a coincidence that it was laid out so carefully, with such attention to order and detail. At first, nothing jumped out at her, but then she noticed something odd. ¡®War¡¯ sort of looked like ¡®peace¡¯¡­ only it wasn¡¯t quite right. It was actually backward¡­ and upside down. Aya was excited for a moment, but then she realized that the final curvy ending on the ¡®war¡¯ was straight and the angle was a bit different. They weren¡¯t exact opposites, but it seemed like too much of a coincidence and so Aya checked the other runes to see if there was a pattern. Three runes later, she confirmed there was! The scholar hadn¡¯t mentioned any of that in his notes and she wondered if it was possible for him to work on the project for months on end without noticing something she had in minutes. Aya frowned, realizing she wasn¡¯t doing him justice. She¡¯d only gotten as far as she had because of his notes and previous work and she had already been at it for hours, not minutes. In fact, the only reason she¡¯d even noticed it was because she¡¯d had to work out what side was up for each rune, and she still wasn¡¯t sure if she was right or not. In fact, she probably wouldn¡¯t have noticed it herself if she¡¯d been taught properly, knowing the meaning of the rune before the shape. The fact that she came in with no prior knowledge was, for the first time since she entered the game, giving her an advantage. Aya tried placing a new rune on the right circle after she made her own copy of it on a page of her notebook. Although the opposite runes weren¡¯t exactly the same, they were similar enough that she was able to work out the matching runes from the ones available to her. It turned out to be quite easy after she separated the known runes into groups of similar meaning. Half an hour was all it took for her to have a rough draft of the runes. The last dozen had been harder to place, since she¡¯d apparently misjudged the meanings. Even after sifting through the remaining and unused runes, she was left with nine blank spaces she didn¡¯t know what to do with. Drumming her fingers, she stared at the nearly-completed circle, hoping for a sudden flash of inspiration. Ten minutes passed and nothing happened. Aya became aware of the silence as time continued to tick away. She was so close, she just wished she could finish it. She continued to fidget with her fingers on the desk. Henry started clucking more loudly and strutting around obnoxiously, or maybe she only noticed it because she wasn¡¯t busy. She sighed and realized he was just hungry. Seeing as he¡¯d literally just made a bloody mess, she had no idea how it was possible but she reached for one of her blood pouches anyway. He obviously wasn¡¯t a fan of real food and she¡¯d already learned her lesson the hard way. Aya opened one of the few remaining blood-filled skins and beckoned at Henry. She¡¯d also learned not to let the bird fed himself. It went surprisingly well and he didn¡¯t even put up a fight when she raised him to her lap so she could continue ruminating over the scroll while he drank. She just hoped he didn¡¯t decide to attach himself to her again, but hopefully keeping him happy and fed would prevent that. Tired of staring at the unfinished circle, Aya drew in the final nine runes by just flipping the matching left runes diagonally. At least, she was in the process of doing that when Henry jerked the blood bag in her lap, almost tipping it over. She caught it at the last second, but ended up messing up the last rune. Aya sighed but decided it could be a good idea to get a fresh copy of it anyway. The one she¡¯d been working on for the last hour wasn¡¯t very neat anymore. She started the tedious process of transcribing and immediately realized she was being dumb by doing it manually. She thought of the minor fixes she wanted to do in the diagram - adjusting certain angles to match the left circle - and activated the skill. Her hand followed the familiar pattern of almost machine-precision drawing, but her mana bar suddenly dropped to nearly zero. Henry hadn¡¯t moved and she knew the skill didn¡¯t require any mana. She pursed her lips in confusion while her hand finished the transcription. It was almost done when she finally noticed something odd. Although the circle was laid out exactly as she had envisioned it, the nine runes she had filled in looked different. They were no longer exact copies of their left counterparts; they were slightly different, in the same way the rest of the runes were slightly different. The moment her quill stopped, she knew she¡¯d finished it. She had no idea how, but there it was. Aya grinned in excitement, but after a moment, her spirits deflated. Now what? She didn¡¯t know what she¡¯d expected, but her effort was supposed to result in something more than just a plain double-circle of gibberish staring flatly back at her. Perhaps nothing was meant to happen or perhaps she had gotten something wrong. After all, she¡¯d guessed all of it. She pushed the page closer to the original scroll to compare. As she went over it symbol by symbol, almost hoping to find a mistake, she noticed something odd. Aya rubbed her eyes, thinking she was imagining it, or maybe she was just tired. But when the anomaly persisted, she realized it wasn¡¯t a delusion; the runes on her double-circle were actually vibrating. The ink looked like it was liquefying before her eyes, like it wanted to leave the page. In fact, as she held the page closer to the original scroll, she realized that the same was true for the ink on it. They were attracted to each other, as if by magnetic force. The closer she held them together, the more the ink shivered, trying to release itself from its papery confines. She observed how they preferred to be face to face. Aya was holding them like that, her version over the glowing scroll, moving them ever closer when, at three inches apart, her page just tore itself from her hands, dove into the original scroll and exploded. There was no time to process the event. She was suddenly sprawled on the ground in front of one of the shelves, three feet from the workstation. Her ears rang and the back of her head was throbbing. Too many things were happening all at once. Notifications were filling her field of vision. Beyond the ringing, she heard squawks of pain. Her own health bar was sinking rapidly. Everything hurt. Her hands were burned and the smell of burnt hair and heated iron filled the room. She tasted blood in her mouth and barely processed it when Henry ran by her, tail ablaze. His status bar was lower than her own, but at least it wasn¡¯t sinking like hers. Aya didn¡¯t want to move from all the pain that filled her body. She wished the ringing would stop but her ears popped and it just got worse. Closing her eyes, she tried to shut out the pain and almost didn¡¯t notice the smell of burning paper. Henry ran by her again, squawking. She squinted at him. The fire on his tail was spreading and now he was sustaining damage. She hurt all over but she needed to put the fire out, if not to save Henry, then at least to save the scrolls he set ablaze. After struggling to her feet, she chased him around the room. Two laps was all it took her to know she would never catch him that way. She wished she had a blanket of some sort to throw at him to smother the flames. Unfortunately, the only thing she did have was a bag of blood that she still miraculously clung to. When she remembered it she stopped in her tracks and waited for Henry to lap the room one more time. The moment he ran by her, she doused him with blood. Although the bird¡¯s flames immediately died out with the help of the crimson liquid, the flames he¡¯d set throughout the room were already spreading. She shuffled about, ignoring the burning pain on her arms as best as she could. Using rags, she snuffed out the budding flames as quickly as she could. It was a losing battle until the door suddenly banged open. She¡¯d been too preoccupied to notice the muffled shouts outside her door. ¡°WHAT IN THE¡­¡± Aizan¡¯s voice boomed into the room. Aya jerked in reaction but didn¡¯t turn to acknowledge his presence. Flames needed to be put out and her brain was already at its maximum processing capacity. She couldn¡¯t add angry Aizan into the mix just yet. Aya heard shouts, hurried steps and frantic voices. In less than a minute, there was a regular army of librarian firefighters in the small room, but she kept her attention focused solely on the flames ahead of her. She was in too much pain to consider anything beyond the task at hand. Fortunately, with the abundant help of enlisted librarians, the flames were put out before too much damage could be made. Unfortunately, the lack of a problem to be busy with gave her a new problem: Aizan. ¡°Explanation,¡± he growled. ¡°Now!¡± The remaining librarians didn¡¯t need any further motivation to scurry out of the room, abandoning her to the wiry man¡¯s wrath. Her hands fidgeted, aggravating the burns on them. ¡°I¡¯m¡­¡± she began. ¡°Sorry,¡± she concluded, not sure what else there was that she could say. ¡°You better be!¡± he shouted, a thick vein throbbing on his neck. ¡°I demand an explanation, not an apology! What happened in here and why is Junior Ta nowhere to be found?¡± Aya parted her lips, trying to come up with something, anything, but the words simply wouldn¡¯t come. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she said, partly because she didn¡¯t know what to say and partly because it was true. The notifications were distracting her, disrupting her already slow, thought process and she scrolled through them while Aizan eyed her skeptically. He surveyed the room. ¡°Alright¡­ Let¡¯s keep things simple,¡± he said, rubbing his temple. ¡°Where did the fire come from?¡± After the fire had been put out, he had calmed considerably, but definitely not enough to forget it had ever happened in the first place. ¡°Hen¡­ The LayHen was on fire and¡­ before I could put it out it¡­¡± she motioned helplessly around the room. ¡°¡­ And how did the it catch fire? Scrolls don¡¯t just spontaneously combust¡­¡± Aya was almost through the notifications when she came across one that was longer than the usual damage notifications. Manic Achievement! You have successfully freed a manic creature from corruption. It was followed by others. WARNING: Your manic tree is not yet able to support a second creature. Do you wish to forfeit your own? Yes | No WARNING: Giving a manic creature a forfeited spot will permanently decrease its manic powers by 15%. Trying to process the meaning of the notifications, she scrolled through the rest to make sure she wasn¡¯t missing something that gave a clearer explanation. In her distraction, she did not notice Aizan bend down to pick up a singed scrap of paper. Aya didn¡¯t know what to do; she had no idea if replacing her manic creature was the right thing to do or not. She didn¡¯t even know how one was different from another. And if they were, she didn¡¯t know if hers was stronger than the one she had apparently just released. The thought of percentage losses brought Donovan to her mind. He would definitely not approve of a loss of that magnitude. But could it be worth it? Was the new manic creature special because she¡¯d released it or were all manic creatures like that? ¡°Where did you find this!?¡± Aizan¡¯s voice suddenly broke into her thoughts. The impatience leaking from it, suggested he had already posed the question more than once. ¡°Find wh¡ª¡± her eyes landed on the scrap of paper he was holding up. It was the right incomplete half of the no-longer-glowing scroll. ¡°Oh. That.¡± The left half had probably disintegrated into ashes but that probably wasn¡¯t something Aizan needed to know. ¡°Yes. This,¡± he said, annoyance leaking from his tone. ¡°Speak. Was this in here?¡± ¡°¡­Yes.¡± ¡°Do you know what it is?¡± She wondered if she should lie. ¡°Not really¡­¡± she said, deciding to skirt the truth. Aizan¡¯s eyes scanned the room once more until they landed on the ground. Aya cringed when she realized they had locked onto her discarded notes. He carefully picked them up and after looking it over, his eyes widened in astonishment. His head swung her way and he said, ¡°Where did¡­ Is this¡­ Did you¡­?¡± He took a deep breath and straightened his back before starting over. ¡°This is your handwriting,¡± he said, holding the up the first draft of her right circle. She nodded, it was a little burned but it was undeniable that the handwriting was hers. ¡°You can see this?¡± he asked. Aya scrunched her brow in confusion ¡°Well¡­ yes?¡± she asked, wondering what he was getting at. ¡°Where did you learn the Forgotten Language?¡± ¡°¡­Here,¡± she answered. ¡°When?¡± ¡°¡­Today.¡± ¡°How?!¡± Aizan asked in a raised voice. ¡°I¡­¡± she began. She could see that her answers were annoying him but she was being honest and decided to continue that way since she was in no condition to come up with anything convincing. ¡°¡­guessed?¡± she finished, shrugging. He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡°Alright,¡± he began after a moment. ¡°From the beginning. Explain what happened here today.¡± He moved his hands around frantically. ¡°Does the Forgotten Language have anything to do with it?¡± he asked. ¡°Was it a failed contract?¡±Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t really know.¡± The librarian looked at her, really looked at her, like he was evaluating every aspect of her being. She wanted to step back from his penetrating gaze but the shelves were already right behind her. ¡°It¡¯s all right,¡± he said. ¡°You can tell me. If you do¡­ and are completely honest with me, I might be willing to overlook this¡­¡± he jerked his head to the side in an all-encompassing gesture. The smell of smoke still hung thickly in the air, making his meaning unmistakable. ¡°Well¡­¡± she began. It never ceased to amaze her how even the slightest connection all of these ¡®Forgotten¡¯ things immediately changed the librarians¡¯ attitudes towards her. Unfortunately, the time had come where she needed to use its leverage. It might be the only way she could save her standing in the game. ¡°I was doing the transcribing¡­¡± she continued. ¡°Like you told me to¡­¡± she stressed, making sure he remembered the only part of the account that involved her actually following instructions. He nodded, encouraging her to continue. ¡°Well,¡± she said, unable to stop fidgeting. ¡°Then I came across this scroll that sort of glowed¡­¡± Unconsciously, her eyes darted to the high shelf it had been on. When her eyes returned to Aizan, he already looked like he wanted to ask something. She paused to let him speak, but he shook her head and gestured for her to continue. ¡°Anyway¡­ There were these runes in it¡­¡± she began again and then proceeded to tell him the whole story, including a detailed account of her process. His eyes lit up at the subject and she obliged with as much information as she could on the matter. The only thing she left out was how she¡¯d fooled Junior Ta into thinking she had done her work. She also didn¡¯t mention he was probably at the prison on a wild goose chase she had invented. By the time she finished, Aizan looked ready to burst, a very unexpected look on the stoic librarian she had come to know. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ impressive, to say the least,¡± he said. ¡°Imp¡ª Oh,¡± she said. She¡¯d expected something along the lines of chastisement for insubordination or perhaps, reprimand for her destruction of precious library property; praise hadn¡¯t even been considered. ¡°If it¡¯s true, anyway,¡± he added, deflating her bubble a bit. ¡°There are a few parts of your account that do not add up.¡± ¡°¡­ What parts?¡± Aya asked, gritting her teeth. She¡¯d decided to be completely honest so it bothered her a little that he was doubting her. ¡°From what you have said¡­ you only learned the scribe skill today,¡± She nodded, not sure at what he was getting at. Aizan tilted his head and crossed his arms, the universal body language for ¡®I don¡¯t believe you¡¯. ¡°That in itself is an impressive feat,¡± he said. ¡°but it should still be impossible for you to even see the Forgotten Language. Only those who have mastered the scribe skill can. It takes years to master it; only a handful of even the most Senior Librarians have.¡± Aya gave him a confused look, hoping he would explain himself. She¡¯d definitely seen it but since ¡®slow¡¯ was still in the description of her skill mastery, she doubted she fulfilled the requirement. ¡°But I can see it¡­¡± she added. ¡°I saw them before, when I got my manic creature.¡± He stilled at her words. ¡°You¡­ got your manic creature¡­ here?¡± He pointed at the ground. ¡°Today?¡± he asked with emphasis. ¡°Yeah,¡± she answered, shrugging and not understanding what that meant. ¡°Oh. Well¡­¡± he said with a pensive look. ¡°That changes things,¡± he mumbled. ¡°How?¡± she asked. ¡°It¡¯s possible that you¡ª Well, it¡¯s rare¡­ but not unheard of¡­¡± Aya nodded, urging him on. Now it was he who was irritating her with his roundabout answer. ¡°Your manic creature could have been a Corrupted librarian, before it was freed from Corruption.¡± ¡°A librarian?¡± she asked in confusion. ¡°Well, anyone with the scribe skill really. If he, she or it possessed the skill before Corruption, there might be enough remnants of it to allow you to see the Forgotten Language,¡± Aizan walked to the fallen desk as he continued his explanation. ¡°But seeing as you got yours here, in the library, it is, more likely than not, a previous librarian. Manic creatures are known to imprint on things from their previous existence, at least for a while. The stronger the manic creature, the longer it¡­ remembers.¡± Aya considered his words for a moment and headed over to help him rearrange the desk. Her wounds were well on their way to healing and over half of her health points had already recharged. ¡°Wait,¡± she said, suddenly understanding. ¡°You¡¯re saying all manic creatures were once¡­ Corrupted Creatures?¡± They settled the desk in its rightful place before he leaned back to look at her. ¡°Yes, of course!¡­ Didn¡¯t you know that?¡± he asked in shocked amazement. ¡°All creatures were Corrupted at one point. Do you not know the history of Era? Why Outworlders like you are even here today?¡± ¡°To close the¡­ gates?¡± He eyed her skeptically until he once again pinched the bridge of his nose. Aizan held up her bundle of discarded notes and regarded them with indecisiveness. Eventually, he sighed and turned to her. ¡°Come here,¡± he said, beckoning her towards him as he picked up one of the far-flung quills, an inkpot and a scrap of paper. ¡°It is time you had a history lesson.¡± Aya approached Aizan and watched as he dipped the quill in ink. Henry watched as the two creatures in the room converged, but seeing as they had nothing to do with him and his wounds from the evil one¡¯s machinations still bothered him, he settled down out of the way, where they could not disturb him. With a practiced hand, Aizan began drawing while he spoke. ¡°Thousands of years ago, there was only chaos¡­¡± he said while his quill drew a perfect black circle. Aizan set his quill aside but continued speaking, ¡°Only Corruption could thrive in that darkened chaos¡­ That is, until one managed to break free¡­¡± Aya¡¯s jaw dropped in amazement when a small dot of white appear in the middle of the black circle. Aizan hadn¡¯t touched it, but it suddenly had a life of its own. ¡°This happened in the Forgotten Realm, where Corruption is stronger than anything. No one knows how the Forgotten One managed to defeat it but, after he did, he helped others break free as well¡­¡± More small dots appeared inside the black circle and moved toward the first one as it grew in size. ¡°Corruption fought back, though¡­¡± The white circle quivered inside the black mass. ¡°And the freed ones began returning to their original state. It was a losing battle and they didn¡¯t stand a chance in the face of Corruption¡­¡± Aya found herself entranced in the story, eyes riveted to the page, hoping the diminishing white circle managed to survive somehow. ¡°Seeing that they were about to lose, the Forgotten One sacrificed himself so the rest could have a chance to live¡­¡± A hole suddenly formed inside the white circle and the page itself folded in half. Another hole appeared where the first one met the folded page. ¡°His sacrifice allowed the freed ones to escape to another realm¡­ this realm. Era.¡± The white circle moved through the hole into the other side of the page, where a smaller black circle waited. ¡°Corruption also reigned here, but not as strong as in the Forgotten Realm and, with time, they managed to defeat it¡­¡± The white circle slowly grew and consumed the small black one. ¡°They are the Gatekeepers, but they only became known as such when the Corruption of the Forgotten Realm came after them¡­¡± The page turned again, revealing that the big black mass was still after them, encroaching on the hole in the page. ¡°The Forgotten One¡¯s death had given them the Forgotten Language, which in turn gave them the power to lock the passage to their realm. Unfortunately, time and their new struggle against Era¡¯s Corruption made them forgetful¡­¡± Aizan paused dramatically. ¡°By this time, Era had already been liberated from Corruption and the Gatekeepers were revered¡­ That is, until the Corruption of the Forgotten Realm came after them¡­ The black mass reached the hole. ¡°They were able to shore up the Forgotten One¡¯s gate just in time to stop the Corruption from infiltrating Era¡­ But it was already too late. The Forgotten Corruption had gotten close enough to lock onto the Gatekeepers¡¯ ties to the Forgotten Realm¡­¡± Aya watched the ink carefully, wondering what would happen next. ¡°Focusing all their attention on the Primus Gate, the Gatekeepers didn¡¯t notice, at first, how the Forgotten Corruption was ripping new crevices to connect the realms. It used the Gatekeepers to guide the new passages. The Gatekeepers couldn¡¯t escape the fact that they were originally from the Forgotten Realm and while they shored up the Primus Gate, all the other fissures started cracking open. By the time they realized it, there was a hole for each Gatekeeper¡­¡± Seven more holes appeared on the page between the realms. ¡°At first there were only seven, but when each one tried to hold a fissure closed, they realized it was impossible¡­ At least not without the help of the other six¡­ Being unable to be in all seven places at once, they each broke apart to form seven pieces of themselves. Each piece was smaller, and less powerful, but the number seven was powerful in itself. It reflected the number that had defeated the Forgotten Corruption once before¡­¡± The white circle broke into seven circles which then also broke into seven more. ¡°Forty-nine of them stemmed from the initial seven and they broke apart no more. They knew each added fragment would give an additional tie to the Forgotten Realm. Instead of continuing to break apart forever they enlisted the beings they had freed in Era¡­¡± He paused, allowing for the tension to settle. ¡°Drawing on the power of all Erans, they were able to keep the Corruption at bay for hundreds of years but¡­ Time forgets and that is how we find ourselves in our current predicament.¡± ¡°But why do you need Outworlders? Wouldn¡¯t it be easier to just¡­ remind people?¡± ¡°That it would but¡­ There is tension between the Gatekeepers and Erans. They, that is we, have never known Corruption ourselves. Erans do not remember the time before the Gatekeepers and since it is only the Gatekeepers who live long enough to remember¡­ many blame them for bringing the Corruption to us.¡± Aya pursed her lips in consideration, wondering why Hawthorne hadn¡¯t mentioned any of this. ¡°The Gatekeepers in turn deem them ungrateful and are unwilling to bend to their will. Especially when they are forced to justify the fact that Dayus caused all this to begin with. If one of their ranks had not succumbed to Corruption in the first place¡­ We wouldn¡¯t be in this situation¡­ In the end, it all comes down to the sides no longer trusting each other. And one of the main reasons for that is how the Gatekeepers now refuse to share any more knowledge with Erans¡­¡± ¡°OH!¡± Aya said, sensing the way things were coming together. ¡°Forgotten Knowledge?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± he answered. ¡°Exactly. It¡¯s what allows balance to exist in the first place. But it¡¯s also what Dayus used to free Corruption and they are now scared of the knowledge landing in the wrong hands¡­ so all the Knowledge we have is what we have been able to keep through the ages¡­¡± The page with the illustrations fell back to the table devoid of ink, holes or any other sign of use. Aya was momentarily distracted, but Aizan continued speaking. ¡°All of the contracts used today are drafted by librarians and scholars who can use the Scribe skill. Unfortunately, there aren¡¯t as many of us as there used to be. The scarcity has driven up the value of contracts which in turn has facilitated the spread of Corruption as people choose to go without.¡± Aya thought of the contract she had made with Hawthorne, her Gatekeeper, and wondered if it too was written in the Forgotten Language. ¡°But today, you have achieved something truly remarkable!¡± Aizan said. ¡°You have recovered the Knowledge of purification!¡± ¡°It was lost?¡± ¡°Oh no! We recovered it years ago, but it doesn¡¯t make your feat any less impressive. To manage to do work it out yourself¡­ Without any previous instruction¡­ Is truly remarkable.¡± Aizan was greedily going through her notes and she was afraid of reminding him of her situation, but wanted to take advantage of his good mood as much as she could. ¡°So, what now?¡± she ventured. ¡°Should I go back to transcribing?¡± ¡°What!?¡± he said, frowning. ¡°Of course not! Don¡¯t be absurd! I could never let you go back to work in here!¡± Henry cackled at the man¡¯s sudden change of tone. A lump lodged itself in Aya¡¯s throat. ¡°Now that we know you can read the Forgotten Language, you will be working in the Vault with the rest of the Seniors! We mustn¡¯t let your abilities go to waste!¡± ¡°Unfortunately,¡± Aizan added with a warning tone, once more putting Aya on edge. ¡°I am not at liberty to release you from your sentence. You will use the remaining time to walk us through your findings here today¡­ This method of yours is unorthodox to say the least¡­ Imagine all that we could accomplish!¡± There was a pause, which Aya didn¡¯t know how to fill. It seemed to clear Aizan¡¯s head, because the excitement in his voice was replaced by his usual stoic gravity. ¡°Later, we can discuss what a fair recompense for your work should be.¡± His words made her realize that she¡¯d actually gained leverage in the situation. His subsequent words took it away but she decided not to fight it. She didn¡¯t have enough information to know exactly how valuable she had become and work in this ¡°Vault¡± should enlighten her. Aya hid a smile; the librarian thought he was getting the better of her but really he was just bettering her chances for the future. ¡°Alright,¡± Aya said. ¡°But first, I have a few questions.¡± Aya watched Aizan¡¯s features pinch uncomfortably before he said, ¡°Of course.¡± ¡°You mentioned how Manic Creatures are created¡­ Purification and all that, but why did you say mine was rare?¡± Her words relieved his features. ¡°When a person is Corrupted, the chaotic nature of the Corruptive force drives the person¡¯s Manic Creatures to break free,¡± he said, avidly latching onto the change of topic. ¡°We know of only one way to prevent this, and that is to capture the Corrupted person before its Corrupted Creatures have managed to break away.¡± Aya considered his words before saying, ¡°So¡­ the Manic Creature I freed today¡­ Could have previously been a person!?¡± ¡°Well, yes and no,¡± Aizan said. ¡°The moment a person is Corrupted, they are no longer a person. They become a breeding pot of Corruption and that is it. Don¡¯t ever forget that.¡± A pained look crossed his features before he continued. ¡°The reason yours is so rare is because it possessed enough remnants of the Forgotten Knowledge to guide you,¡± he said. ¡°For that to be the case¡­ it was probably a very ancient manic creature, which in turn is also very rare. Manic Creatures forget with time what they were in a previous ¡®life¡¯. For yours to remember, it must have been truly powerful at a certain time.¡± ¡°So not all manic creatures are the same?¡± Aya asked, unable to withhold the excitement from her voice. ¡°Of course not,¡± he noticed her excitement and added. ¡°Don¡¯t fool yourself, there is very little chance your manic creature has much power left in it at all. While it¡¯s true that the Manic Creatures released from people with multiple Manic Creatures are stronger¡­ that is only true for a time.¡± Aya deflated, remembering the ¡®ancient¡¯ aspect Aizan had attached to her manic creature. ¡°Usually it only takes days, sometimes months if the Manic Creature is particularly obstinate, but with time, the Manic Creatures the person accumulated in their life detach themselves¡­ Eventually there will only be one Manic Creature left. The inherent one from the Corrupted person, the one they were initially born with at its weakest level¡­ it will be no stronger than the rest¡­¡± Aya couldn¡¯t help sulking a bit. ¡°It¡¯s a balancing process,¡± he added. ¡°If it didn¡¯t happen this way¡­ Manic Creatures would just keep bundling together until eventually there was one massively powerful Manic Creature Left.¡± He watched her dejection with a hint of amusement. ¡°Do not worry child, Manic Creatures get stronger when you use them¡­ Yours too will grow. You should be appreciative of what it has brought you instead. The Forgotten Language¡­ That is a prize many would kill for. Be thankful your Manic Creature chose you.¡± ¡°Chose me?¡± Aya asked, remembering the notification. ¡°I thought they just went for whatever was acceptable.¡± Aizan shook his head. ¡°While it is true that Manic Creatures are inherently looking for a host, until they attach themselves to your Inner Tree they are their own being with¡­ not personalities per se, but definitely¡­ natures. Usually, they are remnants of their previous lives. The Manic Creatures of Librarians often hang around libraries¡­ the Manic Creatures of LayHens¡­¡± he gestured at the once again forgotten Henry. ¡°Usually chose to stick around their breeding grounds and so forth¡­¡± Aya nodded slowly. ¡°Yours is special in the sense that it took so long to find a Host. An ancient creature like that should already have chosen its Host centuries ago. Very few are so¡­ picky.¡± Aya considered his words and looked at the notification window she still hadn¡¯t closed. ¡°What about the Manic Creature I just¡­ freed?¡± she asked. ¡°Oh! Of course, how could I forget!? You must accept it! We must find out what nature it has. That way we might be able to work out who or what it belonged to in its Corrupted state!¡± Aizan said in excitement. ¡°Nature?¡± Aya asked. ¡°Yes, yes. All Manic Creatures have a certain affinity. Some excel at fire magic, others at water magic, others at earth and so on and so forth. Yours, for example, is probably of a neutral nature, meaning it isn¡¯t particularly strong at any kind of spell but then it also doesn¡¯t have any particular weaknesses¡­¡± Her head was beginning to hurt with the amount of information being lobbed at her but instead of pursuing the tangent he offered, she stayed on the topic of the new Manic Creature. ¡°I can¡¯t take it though, my¡­ Inner Tree isn¡¯t strong enough yet to support another.¡± ¡°Your¡­ oh, of course,¡± Aizan said with a sigh. ¡°You Outworlders are so weak when you arrive. You¡¯re like toddlers¡­¡± he eyed her up and down as if taking her age into consideration for the first time. ¡°Not that you¡¯re that grown to begin with.¡± Aya gave him a flat stare, waiting for him to answer her question. He caught the hint. ¡°Well¡­ The choice is entirely up to you. I wouldn¡¯t necessarily recommend giving up your current Manic Creature. There are drawbacks and considering it gives you the ability to read the Forgotten Language¡­ it would be quite¡­ obtuse of you to release it in favor of the freed one¡­¡± The choice might be hers but he was making his opinion quite clear. ¡°You should have a day to make your decision before the Manic Creature is free to roam again. Freeing it only gives you ¡®rights¡¯ to it for that long.¡± ¡°Where will it go?¡± Aya asked, wondering if she could level up her Tree and go back to retrieve it at some point. ¡°Will it stay in the library as well?¡± ¡°It is possible, but it depends entirely on what it was before it became Corrupted.¡± Aya tabbed the notification window. She decided to keep her Manic Creature but she wouldn¡¯t give up on the Freed one until she absolutely had to. There was still a whole day before it left and she might be able to grow her Inner Tree enough until then. Doubtful, but possible. She hoped. A moment of silent reigned before Aya noticed Aizan¡¯s expectant gaze. ¡°Well?¡± he asked. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Well, are you going to keep it?¡± ¡°Oh,¡± Aya said. ¡°Yea, I¡¯m keeping the¡­ ancient one.¡± ¡°That was the correct choice,¡± he said, bundling her notes together. ¡°It¡¯s a shame we won¡¯t find out the circumstances behind the scroll you found. Not without knowing the nature of the Manic Creature¡­ but there is more important work to be done. Now, come along,¡± he said heading toward the door. Aya quickly gathered her things, the forgotten Henry amongst them. She found her notebook discarded on the ground, close to her pack. Hiding it amongst her things, she breathed out in relief, realizing how close he had come to seeing it. She doubted he¡¯d be leading her to the Vault if he found out she was effectively stealing library information. At first, Henry refused to follow them out the room, but a couple Manic zaps encouraged him to behave. After the damage of the blast, she almost felt bad for the bird. The notifications had pretty much proven that without him to take part of the damage, she would have died. And if she¡¯d died, she would have had to wait a whole real-life day before entering the game again. Perhaps his attitude toward her would change if she changed her own. He gave her a look she could only interpret as a glare. Perhaps not. Once they left the room, Aizan told her about her new assignment as he led her down the hallway. They had just rounded the first corner when they ran into a panting, disheveled and splotchy faced Junior Ta. ¡°I heard¡­ there¡­ was a¡­ fire!¡± he gasped between breaths. His eyes darted between Aizan, Aya and Henry in confusion. Aizan frowned momentarily, the subject of the fire long forgotten. ¡°Ah, yes¡­¡± he said. ¡°Of course. That¡¯s been resolved. There is no need for you to concern yourself with Acolyte¡­ Aya was it?¡± he asked looking at her for confirmation. She nodded, worried about how the Junior would perceive her sudden surge in rank. ¡°Any longer. She will be in my care from now on. Now, if you could please return to the processing room and finish setting it to rights¡­¡± Aizan considered the Junior. ¡°In the future, I would recommend you actually carry out the tasks that are assigned to you¡­¡± Junior Ta looked at Aya, opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, and closed it again. ¡°Now if you would please¡­¡± Aizan said, motioning at the hallway behind them. The Junior looked like he wanted to ask something, but instead closed his mouth, eyes tightening as he walked past them. Aya looked back at the Junior. She felt bad, but Aizan was already walking away. She hurried to catch up to him. ¡°This section of the library is reserved for Seniors only,¡± he said opening a large set of doors off the hallway. ¡°This is where the Vault and all of our accumulated Forgotten Knowledge rests¡­¡± Aya felt a shiver of apprehension run down her back. Feeling watched, she looked back toward the Junior again to find him glaring at her. She swallowed. Before she could muster an apologetic look, he scuttled out of sight. ¡°Well, I guess that answers the question of where my Junior librarian went off to,¡± Aizan spoke up behind her, commenting on the Junior¡¯s sudden departure. ¡°I guess that only leaves one more thing,¡± he said. ¡°Why does your LayHen look like it was doused in blood?¡± Chapter 29 Metropolis - Goldilocks: Capsule Bay 32 - Unit 6 Saturday, May 9th, 2089 | 5:57pm [Status: In-Game] By the time the prison¡¯s dinner notification popped up, Aya was itching to get out of the game. She had just spent seventeen uninterrupted hours doing the most monotonous job imaginable, transcribing ONE scroll over and over and over again. After arriving at the Vault and retelling the tale of how she came to see Forgotten Knowledge, the eighteen Senior Librarians had hesitantly put her to work. At first, they were quite hostile, complaining about her criminal and her Outworlder status. Surprisingly enough, most of the complaints centered around the fact she had ¡®cheated¡¯ her way into the Vault. Some of the Senior Librarians had undergone years of tireless training to gain access and she had achieved it in just one day. The outrage was understandable. However, they soon realized she could be a source of free labor, and they could shove their unwanted work off onto her. The Librarians were required by the state to hand in a certain number of Basic Contracts every month. The ability to read the Forgotten Knowledge was rare and they were handsomely compensated for their efforts with a commission for each contract but it was nothing in comparison to what they could make from Private Contracts. In fact, the Contracts required by the state were the most basic kind of Contract used to fulfill everyday agreements. On the open market, an Official Basic Contract was worth anywhere between five and ten gold. The Librarian¡¯s commission was usually two gold or less. A Librarian with an Advanced Scribe skill could usually transcribe around ten copies an hour. Twenty gold was quite a decent hourly rate for a state Librarian. However, there were many Contracts commissioned that were far more complex and personalized and thus worth a lot more. Some were worth hundreds of gold and the Librarian¡¯s cut was proportionately higher, especially when they were direct requests to the Vault. Whenever the state was an intermediary, they ended with a sizable sum of the profits. The moment the Senior librarians realized they could free themselves of the Basic Contract obligation, at least for a while, they stuck her with the Basic Contracts so they could pursue the higher commissions themselves. At first, Aya hadn¡¯t minded that much; her new role had immediately diffused the Seniors¡¯ general attitude toward her. She was quite happy with her assignment and its consequences until about two hours in, when she realized she wouldn¡¯t be getting another one. Aya would have to continue indefinitely. Seventeen hours and almost two hundred identical scrolls later, she couldn¡¯t wait to get out of the game but she forced herself to stay for fourteen of the fifteen allowed minutes of the dinner notification before she logged out. Any time she served now was time she wouldn¡¯t have to worry about the next day, time in which she would probably be doing the same thing anyway. The countdown of her Era prison sentence was a constant reminder of how each game minute shouldn¡¯t be wasted. When the capsule door opened and a wave of cool air washed over Chris¡¯ skin, Aya had less than an hour left on her prison sentence . The cool temperature was a shock after the dry, musty Vault she had just spent a lifetime in. All of her senses reeled as they tried to adjust to the new reality. Every time she logged in or out of the game, she felt a moment of utter disorientation. Her eyesight and hearing felt dulled in the real world, while her sense of touch, taste and smell were heightened. It was a strange thing to realize your own mouth had a taste. It was even stranger to realize how a different body could completely change your perception of the world. But then again, maybe it was just the fact that they were such different worlds. Chris wondered what Era would be like in her real body. She remembered Donovan¡¯s unapologetically real avatar and understood for perhaps the first time why he chose his to be the way it was. Continuing to mull it over, she walked over to the wall near the door. Eight other convicts had already lined themselves up, waiting to be escorted to the cafeteria for dinner. She took her spot, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. It was as jarring as ever going from a world of runes and magic to one where you got in line for everything. Her mind still played with the idea that she lost, or at least replaced, who she was when she was in-game. She thought back to her last day and wondered if she would have done things differently in her own body. But as soon as she remembered the game-learned skills and the modified treatment she received because of her childish appearance, she knew many of the events wouldn¡¯t have even taken place in her real body. As soon as the last convict logged out and joined the line-up against the wall, the procession to the cafeteria started. Her mind struggled with the idea of identity loss. Could it be that Era was becoming her new reality? In the last two days, she had spent a far greater amount of time in game than out of it. And in the real world she was either eating, sleeping, showering or preparing herself to go back into Era. Chris watched the simulated views through the fake windows. Had she not been told, she would never have guessed them to be fake. The borders of reality were blurring both in and out of the real world. If she was able to guarantee her position as a player, or at least a grinder, by the end of the week, then those lines would be blurred even more. As the guard stopped the line to open the next segment, she heard a fragment of a conversation ahead of her and suddenly realized she hadn¡¯t checked her rank yet. She¡¯d been mulling over it for the entirety of the past day. With her new manic creature, new skill and now very-profitable runic ability, she was bound to have risen significantly in rank. From what she had understood, the Warden cared about profitability more than anything. She opened up her dashboard as another line of prisoners walked up next to them. When the gate was cleared, the two groups continued walking side by side in the direction of the cafeteria. Many of the convicts in the first slot for meal time were now logging out of their capsules and cramming into the hallways. Chris was mindlessly following the convict in front of her when a familiar voice broke into her thoughts, interrupting her rank search. ¡°Well hey there, Dearie,¡± Doris said. ¡°How goes?¡± Chris jerked slightly at the sudden intrusion, but disguised her surprise in the movement of her next step. She consciously took a second to clear her features before turning her head toward the woman. Chris had completely forgotten how disfigured the right side of the Doris¡¯ face was. Her stomach sat uneasily around the disgusting remains of her lunch nutri-pack. ¡°It goes,¡± Chris covered with a smile, hoping to pull off a lighthearted air Doris smiled in return before turning her attention forward. The woman¡¯s presence was distracting and Chris didn¡¯t want to check her ranking in front of Doris. The woman had an uncanny ability of reading her. Doris herself was disconcerting. Chris hadn¡¯t even noticed her approach. The woman must have switched places to end up by Chris¡¯ side like that. The effort seemed wasted now as the woman walked in silence. Chris puzzled over what Doris wanted. She wondered if she should say something. Before she could come to a decision, the procession of convicts reached the cafeteria. The guards left them to fend for themselves at the door, but Doris stayed by Chris¡¯ side. After a moment of uncertain silence in the chaos of the cafeteria, Chris made her way to the food dispenser like everyone else. Doris followed. They beelined their way to the food dispensers without speaking a word to each other. Chris¡¯ discomfort with the situation only rose when they stopped by one of the tables to let an already trayed entourage through. Doris eyed them and their trays before turning to Chris. ¡°Wonder what¡¯s for dinner today,¡± she said. Her voice was so eager and convincing Chris almost started questioning herself. A glance at another passing tray reminded her there was no variety on gruel. They took their turn at the dispensers. ¡°Hopefully something good,¡± Chris said flatly as she placed her b-link in the scanner. Doris did the same in the dispenser next to her and the machines came to life. The gruel unceremoniously came out of a dispenser. It landed in their plates with a sound somewhere between a thunk and a splash. It reflected the gruel¡¯s viscous state. She couldn¡¯t help the expression of disgust that settled on her face. As she walked away from the dispenser, Chris watched it continue to move ever-so-slightly with the movement of her steps. She headed toward an empty table in the back; it was closest to the exit and the guards and thus not a very favorable location for most. Doris continued to follow along. The older woman hummed an unfamiliar tune. Even not knowing the song, Chris knew Doris was completely tone-deaf but she wasn¡¯t about to bring it up. Without exchanging another word, they sat down across from each other and began eating. Other women joined them, sitting further down the table. Some of Doris¡¯ friends were amongst them They cackled and recounted stories of their day in Era. It seemed to be the main conversational topic of the day, the only conversation topic, actually. The noise level in the cafeteria grew and grew with every convict that came back from Era. Soon, the cafeteria was abuzz with conversation and Chris couldn¡¯t even hear was being said at the end of her own table. Seeing the old women talking about Era made her realize how even they were players, or perhaps grinders. And there she was, not even sure she¡¯d be able to escape her dud fate. Her fingers clenched around her spork. Sitting in the cafeteria was a time sink, an inconvenience. She wanted to get back to her room, to check her rank, see how her chances had improved. See the progress and how long the road ahead of her still was. Physical fitness obviously didn¡¯t have anything to do with the success rate in Era. All of the women at her table looked frail enough to be blown away by the wind, if they had any so far down from the surface. She couldn¡¯t help the impatience from spreading to her spork. Although she couldn¡¯t hear much in the cacophony of the room, she eventually became aware of the rapid tapping noise coming from the spork hitting her grueled plate. When she realized, she took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. She needed to remember the here and now; they wouldn¡¯t let her leave until she finished her ¡®food¡¯, so she might as well get to it and make the best of it.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Chris looked up to see Doris watching her with an amused expression. Chris¡¯ spine stiffened; she¡¯d almost forgotten about the other woman, but forced herself to maintain eye contact. Having instinctively looked at Doris, Chris knew that if she looked away immediately, she would, at best, look weak; at worst, like she had something to hide. Chris didn¡¯t know why she felt the urge to prove herself to the woman, but she did. Something told her not to underestimate Doris. Their conversation from the day before was still fresh in her mind and she knew beyond a doubt that there was more to the woman than met the eye. From the outside, she looked positively deranged. The scar, the sharpened teeth, even the streak of whitened hair at her temple, made her seem¡­ other, foreign; and not in a good way. It encouraged distance-keeping on all fronts. The fact that her eyes could read you in an instant was another reason to keep a distance. And yet, the woman was always surrounded by a gaggle of convicts. The way the other women had flocked to the unwanted table after she sat down just highlighted how important she was in Goldilock¡¯s hierarchy. Chris¡¯ eyes widened momentarily as she considered a thought. Suerte¡¯s files hadn¡¯t shown a single picture of her, but it didn¡¯t rule out the possibility of her being associated with the big three. As far as the files showed, there were three women who basically ran the prison. She¡¯d memorized the faces of two of them; thankfully, she hadn¡¯t run into them yet. Unfortunately, there wasn¡¯t a picture of the third one. In fact, there was nothing, not even a name. She eyed Doris skeptically, mulling over the thought. Could it be that she was looking at the missing picture? Chris glanced down the table where the flock of women had gathered. Going solely by the numbers, it was quite possible. Chris darted glances at the other tables, trying to gauge their attitude towards her own. There was definite interest aimed their way; unfortunately Chris couldn¡¯t tell who the curious glances were aimed at. Her, the new convict, or Doris. Annoyed at the lack of answers, she slumped and shoveled a load of gruel into her mouth. She was ¡®chewing¡¯ - if you could call processing gruel before swallowing that - when someone unceremoniously dumped herself into the seat next to her. Before she could even look over, the girl had already started speaking, eliminating the need for facial recognition. ¡°Hey there, friend,¡± she said boisterously, completely breaking the tense atmosphere that had been surrounding Chris since the moment Doris walked up to her. The girl, oblivious to her effect on the environment, continued, ¡°What¡¯s poppin¡¯? Didn¡¯t see you around this morning. I was actually just wondering how I was gonna find you in this hellhole and then BAM!¡± she smacked the table with two clenched fists, rattling all the dishes on it. ¡°There you were! Right in front of me.¡± Yaz¡¯s exuberant smile was proof she didn¡¯t even notice the disgruntled faces along the table. She shoveled a couple sporkfuls of gruel into her face, giving Chris time to realize how the situation had just changed. Her eyes darted between Doris and Yaz and she wondered how she could have a conversation with two people who thought she was two completely different people. Doris¡¯ face was one of pure bliss. The woman had obviously picked up on her discomfort and was using it against her. She slowly and patiently ate her meal without so much as batting a lash at the taste, smell or consistency. ¡°Errrghh!¡± Yaz screeched. ¡°No matter what I do, fast, slow, this thing tastes revolting. I thought if I just shoveled it in there, ya know? Like the slop it is, it would go down smoother¡­.¡± She jabbed her fork at the insulting gruel. ¡°NOT the case!¡± Her face scrunched in disgust, but Chris¡¯ attention was focused on Doris, who had an impish smile on her face. At least, the left side was impish, the right¡­ she chose not to dwell on it. ¡°URGH!¡± Yaz shrieked. Chris was ready for another food complaint, but instead the girl said, ¡°What the HELL happened to your face!?¡± The mood of the whole table changed the moment the words were uttered. The tension it inspired in Chris was nothing compared to the reaction the words solicited from the women down the table. Not one of them turned their way; they didn¡¯t have to. Unfortunately, it looked like Yaz had zero perception when it came to her environment. Part of Chris went back to the previous day and she wondered if anyone but Yaz would have believed her whole spiel of being a mastermind in the game. Going by the current situation, the girl was completely oblivious to everything but herself. The other part wanted to strangle her when she decided to open her mouth again. Chris almost choked on the portion of gruel she had just swallowed. ¡°It looks like someone decided your smile wasn¡¯t wide enough and took scissors to it,¡± Yaz said, completely ruining any chances of fixing the situation. Doris¡¯ smile changed to one far more sinister. It took advantage of the mangled side of her face, making it look like she enjoyed eating little children for breakfast. Chris again, almost choked on the same portion of gruel as it worked its way up. Seeing Doris open her mouth and ready herself to say something, Chris forced the gruel down her throat, eyes tearing with the effort, composed herself and spluttered before the woman could speak. ¡°So, erm¡­¡± Chris coughed, gruel still lodged in her throat. ¡°What do you¡­ I mean what¡¯s it¡­. What¡¯s the difference between a dud and a player?¡± Chris asked, trying to steer the conversation away from Yaz. The girl obviously had absolutely no situational awareness. She needed to keep control of the conversation if she didn¡¯t want Yaz to slip up again. Then again there was also the fact that her inexperience was a fact Doris was all too aware of. She couldn¡¯t let that come up either, it would spoil all of her plans concerning Yaz. After Chris¡¯s sudden outburst, Doris closed her mouth and remained quiet, but her eyes conveyed the message well enough. ¡°What are you playing at, Dearie?¡± Her scarred mouth twitched slightly, but the drilling look subsided, giving way to one of joyful reminiscence. But it was clear that Chris¡¯ forceful intervention of the conversation had not gone unnoticed. ¡°The number of capsules are limited,¡± Doris explained without a hint of what had just transpired betweent them. ¡°Whoever plays best gets priorities on capsule use¡­ those are the players.¡± Chris nodded to show her understanding, but mostly urging the conversation onward and away from Yaz¡¯s stupid comments. Basically away from Yaz in general. The longer her conversation with Doris continued uninterrupted, the smaller the chance of Yaz steering the conversation towards herself, Era, Doris¡­ anything really. ¡°The grinders are those who fill the spots left over by the players, and duds¡­ well, they play the two government required hours.¡± There was a finality to Doris¡¯ tone that meant she was done with the subject they both knew Chris had used as filler until she could come up with something better to talk about. She opened her mouth, still in the process of thinking of a new direction to head the conversation in when Yaz cut in. Chris cringed, knowing she had taken too long but she knew that it was too late to cut in now without making her intentions too obvious. ¡°So¡­¡± Yaz began between sporks of gruel. ¡°What¡¯s the deal with your little gang here?¡± She motioned at the women down the table with her sport. Some of it splashed off as she waved it around; she didn¡¯t seem to notice as she continued her very unwanted line of questioning. ¡°I mean I¡¯ve watched enough TV drama to know there¡¯s like a¡­ queen bee or something¡­. Right? You it?¡± Doris smiled indulgently, like she was talking to a toddler. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know, my little hellion. What do you think?¡± Chris wanted to clamp a hand over the girl¡¯s mouth. Somehow, ever since the girl had sat down next to her, Chris felt like Yaz¡¯s actions reflected on herself, a reflection that was not looking too good at the moment, especially in Doris¡¯ eyes. As usual, the older woman¡¯s expression gave nothing away but Chris imagined she was not very impressed with the girl. Chris knew she wasn¡¯t. Yaz looked up and down the table and back at Doris. She took her time to answer, something Chris was surprised the girl was even capable of. Yaz had another mouthful of gruel before answering. ¡°Well. Going by the way they¡­¡± she pointed her yet-again dirty spork in the womens¡¯ direction, ¡°defer to you, you¡¯re definitely of¡­ some importance. Question is, how important?¡± Chris was stunned. She shoveled a sporkful of gruel into her mouth to stop it from showing. For once, she had mixed feelings about the girl¡¯s words. On one hand, she couldn¡¯t believe how Yaz had asked the same question she¡¯d been wondering about since she met the woman. On the other, she was terrified just thinking about how Doris would take it. The woman was obviously a big deal and Yaz¡¯s question was pretty much putting the extent of the woman¡¯s authority into question. It made Chris realize how she already presumed Doris to be the missing leader in the prison¡¯s hierarchy. ¡°Well,¡± Doris began, neatly setting her spork down on her plate. It was an obvious jab at Yaz¡¯s errant spork, but going by the way the girl continued to shovel the gruel down her throat, it didn¡¯t look like she noticed. Doris clasped her fingers in front of her and continued, ¡°I¡¯m not ¡®Queen Bee¡¯, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re asking.¡± Yaz¡¯s eyes darted between Doris and the rest of the table. ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± she said, swallowing her food. ¡°Even so¡­ you¡¯re no ¡®dud¡¯. And for you to have this much, if any, pull in here¡­ it means you¡¯ve got to have at last some measure of skill in Era.¡± Yaz¡¯s eyes moved over Doris, like those of a horse trader. ¡°Interesting. I never thought old people would be any good at video games.¡± The girl shrugged and got back to her food. Chris ate her own in silence, trying to pretend the girl hadn¡¯t just said what she did. Doris merely laughed. Yaz looked up in surprise as Doris got back to her food. ¡°Whoever told you Era was a game is an idiot,¡± Doris waved her spork around, splattering some gruel onto Yaz¡¯s nearly-empty plate. ¡°And you¡­ well, you¡¯re even more so for believing it.¡± Doris smiled benignly before resuming her meal. The current in the air changed from hot to cold in less than an instant. One moment Doris was picking up her spork, the other it felt like any word could set off a bomb. Surprisingly, she couldn¡¯t tell if the change had originated from Doris or Yaz, but the moment Yaz opened her mouth to retaliate, Doris cut her off. ¡°If you know what¡¯s best for you¡­ girl, keep that mouth of yours shut,¡± Doris continued, her spork bringing gruel to her mouth in regular movements, as if her tone hadn¡¯t changed to one of lecturing reproach. ¡°As entertaining as it was for that one hot minute¡­ it¡¯s time you get in line. You may stay until you finish your meal but I do not want to see you before me before you learn some manners.¡± Yaz opened her mouth to reply, but Doris once more cut her off. ¡°I expect utter silence from you,¡± she said between mouthfuls. ¡°Children are to be seen, not heard.¡± Chris felt like shrinking into her chair. She knew the words hadn¡¯t been directed at her, but seeing as Yaz had come to the table because of her, she felt somewhat responsible. Chris imagined she could feel the heat of Yaz¡¯s anger on her left. She was expecting an outburst at any minute, but as the ¡°companionable¡± silence grew, she was surprised to find that Yaz did not break it. Chapter 30 Metropolis - Goldilocks Cafeteria Sunday, May 10th, 2089 | 7:03am ¡°Who does she think she is, anyway?¡± Yaz said, petulance dripping from her voice. Chris sighed, curbing the need to pinch the bridge of her nose, the source of her throbbing headache. It was too early and she hadn¡¯t gotten nearly enough sleep to deal with the girl again, so soon. Hadn¡¯t she just gotten rid of her? Chris looked back. Nope, still there. She had so been looking forward to a drama-free breakfast. It had worked so well the day before. Why couldn¡¯t it be so simple again? Another glance behind her confirmed it wouldn¡¯t be. She¡¯d literally just stepped foot into the cafeteria when the girl had come barreling into her, launching into a self-perpetuating rant concerning Doris. There wasn¡¯t much she needed to say to keep the girl going, but it still grated on her nerves, especially at this early hour, surrounded by this many vicious criminals. This time, she did pinch the ridge of her nose when her head felt like it was about to explode. The fact that Yaz was complaining about Doris so publicly made her uneasy. Chris didn¡¯t know how much, but the woman obviously had a certain amount of power in the prison hierarchy. She hadn¡¯t yet figured out if she was the missing member of The Big Three, but Chris wasn¡¯t about to take her chances if she was. Era was about all she could handle right now, and according to her rank, she wasn¡¯t even handling that properly. She didn¡¯t need to add anything else to her plate. As the gruel plopped onto her actual plate, Chris was yanked back to her present woes, including the girl, who was still blabbering on. The girl¡¯s lack of volume control was already attracting unwanted attention. Unfortunately, Chris herself was also being given unwanted attention, by Yaz. She didn¡¯t even bother trying to pry the girl off of her back. She¡¯d have more success trying to remove a leech with one chopstick. Her headache throbbed painfully across her entire skull, threatening to turn into a full-on migraine. Such was the powers of early-morning-Yaz-company. Chris sighed in resignation. After spending a good portion of the night studying and preparing for Era, she just wanted to eat her breakfast as quickly and quietly as possible and get back to Era. There was a lot of catching up to do. A memory of her rank flashed behind her eyelids with the next wave of pain. ¡°5780/5792: Pending Review¡± She had been expecting more progress after attaining such a sought-after skill. But even after seeing the unfortunate number, small sliver of hope had lodged into her heart with the ambiguous notice of ¡°Pending Review.¡± Chris had been uncertain about whether she should ask Tiny about it. As amiable as her roommate seemed, she was wary of trusting anyone, especially after the Serving Time debacle. Chris didn¡¯t want her ranking issues getting back to Suerte. Although it seemed like Rin was already well situated across the country, Suerte still had her sister¡¯s life in his hands. Chris had mulled over the decision during Tiny¡¯s workout, the following shower and long after the lights had been turned off. She had tried in vain to find an explanation in the b-link¡¯s library. Eventually, the need to know had gotten the better of her and she had asked Tiny about it. The large woman¡¯s answer had been punctuated with surprise. ¡°Wow, already?!¡± her tall cell-mate had asked, leaning her head over the top bunk. ¡°That¡¯s usually not something you come across until something major and unexpected happens.¡± Chris nodded slowly, wondering what ¡®something major and unexpected¡¯ entailed. To her mind, most of what had happened in Era over the last two days had been ¡®either¡¯, ¡®or¡¯ and ¡®and¡¯. Chris¡¯ expression must have given her thoughts away since she elucidated without prompting. ¡°Most of the time, during major quest events,¡± she wrinkled her brows. ¡°Nothing you should have encountered yet. At least not at your level. Unless¡­¡± ¡°How come?¡± Chris had asked, cutting her off before she started forming unwanted assumptions but also needing more information. ¡°It¡¯s¡­Erm¡­¡± the large woman began, taking a moment to redirect her thoughts. ¡°When the AI used to calculate ranks can¡¯t figure out what to make of your profit that day.¡± A silence filled with questions had followed Tiny¡¯s answer and Chris knew her cellmate was curious about what had led to her ¡°Pending Review¡±, but for some reason Chris didn¡¯t want to share the particulars of her day. After trying to read up on her Contract creating and Rune-reading abilities, she had come to realize just how rare, uncharted and potentially valuable they were. She also didn¡¯t want to go anywhere near the small issue of her still-single-digit-and-not-even-on-the-high-side level. Chris masked her expression so stoically, it probably radiated suspiciousness. The silence finally stretched long enough for Tiny to realize Chris wasn¡¯t going to give her anything. ¡°It¡¯s usually something that could really raise,¡± the woman said, ¡°or really lower your ranking in the long run.¡± Luckily she wasn¡¯t too upset at Chris¡¯ reticence. At least, she didn¡¯t seem to be when she continued to explain, ¡°Rumors say the Warden personally reviews Pending Review cases if they¡¯re¡­ Pending for too long. But then again,¡± she¡¯d paused to look at Chris suggestively. ¡°You know what they say about rumors¡­¡± Tiny had smiled and Chris had been unsure how to take it. Before Chris could come to a conclusion, the woman had retreated back to her bunk. It made Chris wonder if she should have told Tiny about her day in the Vault after all. As soon as the thought entered her head, she forced it out immediately. She was done confiding in people unnecessarily; so far it had only gotten her into trouble. Although the prison had access to all that she did, and she still wondered what her weekly psych visits would entail, none of her ¡®fellow inmates¡¯ needed to know. The only way two people could keep a secret was if one of them was dead. A shudder creeped down her spine, trying to erase the fact the thought had ever existed. The back of her mind squirmed with the knowledge that prison was changing her. It was making her consider, plan and do things that had never even occurred to her before. She¡¯d been there for a total of two days and she was already barely recognizable from her self from¡­ had it really only been a week ago? Had it really only been seven days since she¡¯d been standing at the damned cash register. The numbers 11:47 glowed faintly at the bottom right corner of her b-link screen. Yes, it was. Almost exactly. She slumped in her bunk, wondering if a week in prison was all it took to make a murderer out of a convicted murderer. ¡°You know what I mean!?¡± Yaz barked in a shrill voice, tearing Chris back to the present. They were walking toward one of the tables, but Chris¡¯ eyes were already subconsciously focused on the exit. She turned to Yaz, her brown hair and red streaks glowing in her morning light settings, and regretted ever having talked to the girl. There was nothing she wanted from the girl, except maybe¡­ ¡°Say,¡± Chris said, completely ignoring whatever it was that Yaz ¡°meant¡±. ¡°How are you doing in Era?¡± Chris veered to the right, changing their course as she waited for the girl¡¯s reply. ¡°Oh, right!¡± Yaz said, ¡°totally forgot to tell you. I¡¯m like, kicking ass!¡± The girl almost shouldered another inmate to follow in Chris¡¯ zig-zag path to the exit. ¡°I made it to level fifteen like, a minute before I had to log out yesterday.¡± ¡°Not bad,¡± Chris said, trying to sound like she did when praising Rin for a good grade. Thankfully it was enough to get the girl talking again as she veered around a table and dropped off tray off at one of the clean-up stations. ¡°Yea! It boosted my rank to 324th!¡± Chris merely nodded, shoveling down gruel while still walking. With her hands liberated from the tray, she could hold her plate in one hand and her nifty spork in the other. With hand occupied, she had the added bonus of not having to react to the girl¡¯s revelations. She wasn¡¯t about to share how her own rank was 5780th. 13th from the bottom if she chose to interpret it Yaz¡¯s way. Chris forced down a mouthful of the foul-smelling-foul-tasting gruel so she could speak. ¡°Oh yea?¡± she asked, swallowing hard to clear the last tenacious remnants of gruel. ¡°What you been up to?¡± No later than the words leaving her mouth and the girl catching the bait did Chris dig right back into her plate. ¡°Working on some quests with the guild.¡± ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Chris tried to mumble encouragingly while processing gruel as fast as she could. She didn¡¯t bother to chew. ¡°We¡¯re accumulating funds for a huge expansion,¡± Yaz said, seemingly oblivious to Chris¡¯s porcine actions. ¡°Serving Time doesn¡¯t have a base in the High Plains yet, so that¡¯s what we are working towards.¡± ¡°Huh, guess you¡¯re sticking with them, then?¡± Chris asked between mouthfuls, trying to keep the hopefulness out of her tone. ¡°Oh no! Of course not! I¡¯m still joining up with you as soon as you have your own guild!¡± she nearly screamed. ¡°I¡¯ve actually teamed up with a group that¡¯s heading your way.¡± ¡°Oh yea?¡± Chris encouraged, trying to keep her gag reflex in check as she downed the gruel in record time. ¡°Yea,¡± Yaz said. ¡°We¡¯re all pretty low-level, which is why we are traveling on foot. That way, we can level up on the way.¡± ¡°Huh,¡± Chris mumbled with a full mouth, the girl didn¡¯t need much encouragement to keep talking. ¡°Ahuh, the guild¡¯s got some big plans for Durrenheim.¡± They reached the final table in the cafeteria. Chris had pretty much finished the whole plate on the go, but Yaz was readying to take a seat. Chris took advantage of the girl¡¯s distraction to say, ¡°Hey, I¡¯ve got a¡­ an appointment I gotta keep. So I gotta¡­ ¡° she nodded her head in the direction of the exit. ¡°¡­go. See ya later.¡± ¡®Much, much, much later.¡¯ Chris added as a hopeful mental note, turning away from the girl. ¡°But what about¡­¡± Yaz began. Chris didn¡¯t stop to hear the rest of it. She shoved the last two sporkfuls of gruel into her mouth and got in line right as the next group to the Capsule Bay filled up. By the time she finally swallowed the last bit of gruel, they were securely on their way. Her shoulders¡¯ finally relaxed when she could no longer hear noise from the cafeteria. Chris was relieved she wouldn¡¯t have to deal with Yaz for at least another 11 real-life hours. Thankfully, the girl was at least a week away from her in Era and Chris wouldn¡¯t have to encounter her there anytime soon either. The only thing she regretted about their ¡®conversation¡¯ was not finding out what Serving Time wanted in Durrenheim. For them to send a group of beginners to another starting location, something was definitely up. ¡ª¡ª¡ª Aya¡¯s final Vault hour went by quickly. It had gone the exact way she expected it to, Basic Contract after Basic Contract. The only event that defied her expectations was the moment when Senior Aizan, who accompanied her out of the library, handed her a small leather-bound notebook. She¡¯d looked up inquisitively to find the harsh man¡¯s features softened with humor. ¡°Figured yours was about full by now,¡± he said simply and without inflection. Aya gaped, slightly unsure she¡¯d understood him correctly, but gaping nonetheless. She stuttered a thank you, accepted the book and and left before the man changed his mind or the real Senior Aizan decided to return to his body. She stored the book in the same pouch as the other notebook. It had been burning a hole at her side ever since Aizan mentioned it. She hastened her small strides as much as possible and took off in the direction of the Western Gate. Hours upon hours of mind-numbing Vault work had given her a very clear vision of what she intended to do. First on the list was, unfortunately, Donovan. Opening her friends¡¯ list she realized three things.
  1. Neither Donovan, Obelisk or Asterisk were on-line.
  2. She was still friends with Furia who, was also not on-line.
  3. There were still 2 unread messages in her inbox.
ONE wasn¡¯t surprising, considering the hour. TWO¡­ she would take time to consider later. THREE she had totally forgotten about. Opening Obelisk¡¯s message first, she skimmed the semi-translucent letters in front of her while she made her way to the gate. Henry squawked behind her, barely able to keep up when she wove herself through the slightly more congested town square. A twinge of remorse worked its way into her conscience when she noticed his pain brought her joy. His next squawk made her pull up short and wait for him to catch up to her. The bird squawked in accusation the moment he reached her. Aya rolled her eyes, trying to hide her guilt. She knew her mana was somehow hurting him whenever he got too far but she was unsure how to stop it. Not that she had tried very hard¡­ or at all. He didn¡¯t offer any resistance when she bent over, picked him up and plopped him onto one of the satchels she had slung over her back.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Obelisk¡¯s message turned out to be a friendly one, merely asking if she was alright. Durrenheim¡¯s Daily Bulletin had informed him of her sentence, but he made no further inquiries about the event. He simply asked her to message him as soon as she could. Aya was very surprised. She was a prisoner and she¡¯d almost taken it for granted that the event would push any friends she had made away. After scrawling a simple note saying she was fine and would like to meet up, she opened Donovan¡¯s message. If an adequate replacement has not shown itself by the time you are released, stay near Durrenheim. I will pick you up during my normal playing time. 10:00am-4:00pm ET Aya¡¯s lip twitched in a mixture of amusement and annoyance. She couldn¡¯t settle on the appropriate emotion. The aggravation she¡¯d felt in the cafeteria had followed her to Era, even if the headache hadn¡¯t. In the end she decided there was nothing to be annoyed about. Donovan was just being Donovan. Shaking her head, she didn¡¯t even bother replying. Past the dried-out water fountain and most of the set up stalls, Aya heard a set of words that made her stop in her tracks. ¡°¡­ from Serving Time.¡± ¡°Well¡­¡± said a tall player with dark hair pulled high into a ponytail. He shrugged his broad chainmail-covered torso to add, ¡°they¡¯re cons what do you expect?¡± ¡°I know, I can¡¯t believe the government is paying for them,¡± said the shorter, still beginner-garb-clad one. ¡°I had to spend hard-earned¡­¡± His words died off when his eyes veered in her direction. Noticing his friends¡¯ hesitation, the other turned as well, only to glare at that sweet spot above her head. Aya looked away immediately, knowing all too well how guilty she looked. She bent over, pretending to tie her shoes, only to notice her gladiator sandals were severely lacking in the tie department. Instead she adjusted the fastenings, took out one of her bags and started ruffling through it. A short silence spanned after she¡¯d bent down but eventually the conversation continued. Further insults about cons were traded and their voices weren¡¯t lowered in the least. If anything, they raised them, showing Aya they wanted her to overhear the conversation. It didn¡¯t bother her because eventually, they did bring the topic back around to what she wanted to hear. ¡°Yea but come on!¡± the smaller one whined. ¡°15 gold for a starter set is just ridiculous.¡± ¡°Not like we had a choice,¡± the taller one answered, throwing in a shrug Aya caught from the corner of her eye. ¡°They¡¯ve driven everyone else here out of business.¡± ¡°What about¡­¡± the shorter one said, fingers twitching before him as his eyes scanned something visible only to him. ¡°Hohnhaus? It¡¯s the close¡ª¡± ¡°It¡¯s not a starting location so there won¡¯t be any places we can level you up in, even if I went alone. For me to go there and come back¡­ it¡¯s just not worth it¡­ And they¡­¡± his head swung towards one of the last stands, ¡°know it.¡± Aya had heard enough. Her spine stiffened as she came to her feet and turned toward the stall. She walked by it at a measured pace, giving it nothing more than a passing glance. Thankfully, there were no players she recognized amongst the dozen or so milling about the stall. They were divided into two camps. One had convict tags above their heads and sported smug, self-satisfied expressions, the other didn¡¯t and looked like they¡¯d all shared a basket of rotten apples. There was no doubt in anyone¡¯s mind, they all knew they were being ripped off. It reminded Aya of the water market. Sighing, she pivoted around to go buy some. Henry could subsist on blood, but she chose not to. Standing in line gave her a chance to compare the players. Although the consumers at both stalls were aware of being taken advantage of, the margin at the water stall was smaller and, if not understandable, at least justifiable, considering the drought. After buying a couple skins of water, she made her way out of town, once again passing by Serving Time¡¯s weapon stall. It gave her a chance to catalog their equipment. Although it sold all manner of gear, most of it was made out of metal. The goods at the other stalls also stood out to her and she realized for the first time that there were only two weapon stalls, Serving Time¡¯s and Xavier¡¯s. But since Xavier wasn¡¯t around at the time, Serving Time was dominating the market. She would need to talk to Xavier about it to find out some more information, but seeing the monopoly in action gave her ideas. Until then, she¡¯d only known that she was going to get back at the damned guild, but now, she thought she knew how. In fact, a small smile spread across her lips as she considered it, it might work perfectly with what she already had planned. Aya¡¯s legs hastened into a jog and before she knew it, she was already running past the guards stationed at the Western Gate. She would have kept going, emboldened by the freedom of movement after so many hours cooped up both in the Vault and in Goldilocks, she really would have, if not for the fact that the forgotten bird jumped off her satchel and ran off. She wouldn¡¯t have cared, she shouldn¡¯t have cared, but unlike all previous times, the bird refused to follow her even after her mana kept zapping it repeatedly. She really would have kept going, even without the bird, if she hadn¡¯t been struck by incomparable pain. Out of nowhere, it was like a spear of ice tore through her insides and cut a bolt of fire across her skin. It made her body tingle with millions of dispersed particles of pain. It was followed by another one before she could recover from the shock and even start dealing with the pain. After the second one, she immediately scooted in the bird¡¯s direction, feeling a little sorry for the bird she¡¯d made go through such pain many times but more relieved she did it fast enough to not be affected again. Henry had approached a beggar, slumped by the side of city walls. It both annoyed and surprised her, but not as much as the deferential body language his leather-feather-bound body had taken. Curiosity sparked and tripled a moment later when she recognized the beggar. It was Nelson, the drunk from prison. The drunk she¡¯d sent Junior Ta after. She approached the duo carefully as Henry pecked at the man¡¯s right shoe; the left was nowhere in sight. Five feet away, she stopped as a ripe smell hit her nostrils. She coughed as she started breathing through her mouth. ¡°Ugh,¡± she heard herself mutter in complaint. Unable to leave without Henry and unwilling to get any closer, she stood still and considered her options. The sun beat down unmercifully, aggravating the smell and increasing her discomfort with the situation as sweat rolled down her body. Aya watched the man carefully. If not for the irregular, ragged breaths he wheezed out, she would have thought him to be dead. ¡°Mister¡­ Erm¡­¡± she began uncertainly. ¡°Mister Nelson, are you okay?¡± Maybe if she was able to wake him and encourage him to be on his way, she could get Henry back to following her. Less than a minute later, she knew it was not to be; she would have to get closer. She felt guilty enough about even considering throwing rocks at him instead of having to approach that she stopped complaining and even forced herself to breathe through her nose. Her eyes watered at the stench but she knelt down and tried to rouse the man Henry was still pecking at. ¡°Sir,¡± she said loudly. ¡°Sir, are you alright?¡± Nothing. She poked him, nudged him and eventually shook him, all to no avail. He just lay there, as conscious as a rock. Sighing, she took out one of the expensive water skins she had just bought and wetted one of the bloody scraps of cloth she had. She had clean ones, but she figured she was already wasting enough time and resources on the man as it was. Patting his forehead and his closed eyes with luke-warm water finally got a little response from him as he growled in his sleep. Encouraged, Aya poured some more water onto the cloth before bringing it to his blistered mouth. For the first time noticing the state of his skin, she wondered how long he had been sitting there. Pity and guilt warred inside her at the sight. The moment the man registered the wetness of the cloth he started sucking on it unconsciously. Aya couldn¡¯t help being a little disgusted, but she brought the rag to his mouth over and over with more and more water. What felt like an eternity later, but was probably just a couple minutes, the man slowly came to life. He blinked sluggishly a couple times while his mouth opened and closed as he swallowed repeatedly. She could tell he needed water, but she couldn¡¯t help feeling a little hesitant about just handing over one of her water bags. If she did, she knew she wouldn¡¯t be using it anymore, not after that man drank from it. Again, she felt guilt for merely having the thoughts and handed it over, slowly helping the man tip his head back to take one slow sip after another. A couple minutes later, he was definitely resuscitated, at least compared to the state she had found him in. But close up, she could see the man was severely ill. His eyes were yellow and bloodshot, his skin was pale and bruised where it was not sunburnt and his bones stuck out in prominently, hinting at malnutrition. She wondered, not for the first time, if and how Henry knew the man. He probably did, otherwise he wouldn¡¯t have come over here. Aya watched carefully as the man became conscious enough to register his environment. She wasn¡¯t disappointed by his reaction to Henry. His dull eyes lit up a fraction and he crooned through a raspy voice, ¡°Hey, little buddy¡­¡± Aya couldn¡¯t believe this was the same man she¡¯d seen just the night before. He turned his attention to Aya and asked, ¡°How¡¯d you get ahold of him? Are you taking care of the others too?¡± ¡°Err¡­ It¡¯s a long story,¡± she said, answering the first question. ¡°And¡­ No?¡± she added, unsure of the second. ¡°Yes¡­ Yes¡­ It¡¯s hard. They can be an unruly bunch¡­¡± he said with a faraway look to his sickly eyes. ¡°I should be getting back to them¡­¡± He shook his head, as if clearing his thoughts. ¡°Here,¡± he said, holding out the water bag. ¡°Thank you for your help, kid, but I really should be going.¡± ¡°Are you sure you¡­¡± she began as he struggled to his feet. He ignored her words completely, so she found herself helping him get on his feet. ¡°I¡¯m fine¡­¡± he rasped, finally standing a minute later. ¡°Fine,¡± he added between coughs. ¡°It¡¯s just those stupid guards giving me a hard time,¡± he said as he started stumbling along the wall, using it for support. ¡°Banning me¡­¡± he mumbled between ragged breaths. ¡°Can you believe it?¡± he coughed loudly, trying to raise his skeleton-like hand to his mouth, but it wasn¡¯t fast enough. Instead, Aya saw drops of blood fly through the air with each cough. He wiped the blood from his lips with the back of his hand and kept going as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Henry was right on his heels. ¡°And this time¡­ this time I didn¡¯t even do anything. Forgotten Knowledge¡­ Bah!¡± he croaked loudly, inciting a bout of coughs. ¡°Who would be stupid enough to talk about that in public¡­ Not me¡­ Yet here I am¡­¡± The man sighed heavily which again brought on a bloody coughing fit. This time, all Aya felt was a ton of overwhelming guilt crushing her with its weight. Her heart beat faster, blood rushed to her face only to drain out of it completely a moment later. She was responsible for this man¡¯s situation, she needed to do something about it. ¡°Sir¡­¡± she said, slinging his skeleton right arm over her shoulders. ¡°Where you headed, I¡¯ll help you¡­ for Henry¡¯s¡­ the LayHen¡¯s sake.¡± She added, noticing his hesitation at her help. He shivered as the last remnants of strength tried to leave his body and it steeled her resolve to help him. She had herself and her rank to think about, but she couldn¡¯t leave the man be. Not knowing she was the one who had put him in the situation to begin with. Her mind knew he was just an NPC, but her heart knew that leaving him there would just be another step down the path she was trying to avoid. Real or not, he was still human. The real question was how long she¡¯d still belong in the same category. ¡°Well,¡± he rasped, tearing her back into the moment. ¡°Alright then. I¡¯m going¡­ home. It¡¯s about a mile that-a-way.¡± He jerked his head toward familiar territory. ¡°Close to the LayHens?¡± she questioned. ¡°Yep,¡± he said, a sad look crossing his eyes. ¡°They¡¯re mine.¡± ¡°¡­Oh.¡± She said, more concerned about how she was going to get him there. He didn¡¯t weigh much, being mostly skin and bones, but her strength was laughable. The pack she carried was already weighing down on her as it was. The fact that it took her more than five minutes to walk 100m to a reasonably shady spot reaffirmed her decision to find an alternate mode of transportation. Settling him down, she promised she¡¯d be right back and headed back in the direction of town. It took longer to convince Henry to follow her than it did to get back to Xavier¡¯s shop, convince him to rent her the use of his wagon and haggle the price down to something she could afford. The moment the blacksmith unhooked the bull was the moment she realized it wasn¡¯t included in the deal. It had been too good to be true. Aya tried to argue her point, but his expression and the fact she might need him later made her be on her way without further argument. She needed more time than she had right then to have the conversation she wanted anyway. At least, that¡¯s how she framed it in her mind as she returned to the man. By the time she got back to him, his slumped figure looked a little better. Nothing an expensive water bag and a slice of stale bread couldn¡¯t do. Helping him up onto the back of the wagon, she realized just how necessary the wagon was. She slung her items up and got on her merry way. Alright, it wasn¡¯t so merry. The wagon was a bitch, a real pain in the ass. It was hard to move and even harder to get moving but she managed, somehow. By the time she made it to the halfway point, she had blisters on almost every finger on her hand along with a couple of her toes. Sweat was pouring out of everything. Her short hair was plastered to her face, making her wish it was shorter or at least long enough to tie up. She took a small break to drink some water and check on Nelson. She¡¯d expected him to be fine, but the moment she went behind the wagon, she realized he wasn¡¯t doing too well either. The trip was taking its toll on him but she knew walking would only be harder. Feeling bad she hadn¡¯t done it before, she took out all of her rags, furs and pelts and made him as comfortable as she could. Part of her couldn¡¯t help feeling like it was a waste considering she¡¯d never be able to use them again. The other part called that part a real asshole. Her legs were shaking and she knew that if she didn¡¯t start up again soon, she wouldn¡¯t be able to for a couple of hours, so got down from the wagon and made her way back to the front. Henry squawked at her but remained in the back with Nelson. The second half of the journey was considerably worse than the first. Just getting the damn thing rolling was a miracle in itself, and by the time she approached LayHen territory, she was literally crying in pain and exhaustion. She just wanted to jump in a cold lake, take a nap and eat some meatballs. She loved meatballs. The sauce¡­ Wracking coughs, exponentially worse than any she had heard so far, made her run around the wagon and jump up next to Nelson. His ribs were rising a foot in the air with each cough, violently slamming back down every time blood spewed out of his mouth. Aya was at a loss of what to do. Her own pains were immediately forgotten as she watched the man writhe in pain. She took his hand, gripping it, not knowing what else to do. His spidery fingers curled around hers with the barest hint of strength. Aya waited for it to calm down like all the other times, but it never did. It just got worse. And then it got worse. Minutes that felt like hours went by until his cough finally started dwindling. She heaved a sigh of relief when the man she had thought unconscious croaked out words with noticeable effort. ¡°You¡¯ve taken good care of him,¡± he said. ¡°He doesn¡¯t like you much, but I can tell you¡¯ll win him over. You¡¯re a good person.¡± He coughed twice, she worried he would start coughing again. She worried he¡¯d be unable to stop it again. ¡°Look, it¡¯s okay,¡± she said. ¡°I think it¡¯s best you don¡¯t speak right now. We should get you some¡ª¡± ¡°No,¡± he said as firmly as he could with his weak voice. It was getting weaker by the second and Aya didn¡¯t like the direction things were taking. ¡°I need you to promise,¡± he said. ¡°¡­Promise what?¡± she asked uncertainly. ¡°Promise you¡¯ll take care of them.¡± She didn¡¯t understand. ¡°Take care of them, my LayHens¡­¡± he said, a single cough escaped his lungs. Blood flowed down his mouth in a single line. ¡°No wait,¡± Aya said, her own blood draining completely. Her mouth was dry and the situation was out of control. She needed to put a stop to it before¡­ ¡°Please,¡± he said, his eyes regaining a glimmer of life. ¡°Please, I¡¯ll give you everything I have. Just¡­ take care of them¡­¡± A series of windows suddenly popped up. One of them was the prompt for the contract he offered. Another held the terms and the other a list his assets. Her eyes tried to skim the windows¡¯ words while keeping an eye on the man. ¡°Please¡­¡± he begged, eyes dulling. Aya panicked, heart racing as she saw the life draining out of him faster and faster. ¡°Yes,¡± she blurted before it was too late. ¡°Yes, I promise!¡± The prompt window disappeared and a bunch of others took its place, Aya barely noticed. Her attention was on Nelson. His eyes cleared and the pain in his expression was replaced by one of peace. She felt joy for making it right with him before he exhaled his final breath. And just like that, Nelson died, leaving her alone on a wagon with a corpse, a Layhen and an unread contract. Chapter 31 Metropolis - Capsule Bay 28 - Unit 10 Sunday, May 10th, 2089 | 9:51am [Status: In-Game] Aya looked at the clock and took her first unburdened breath in what felt like days. Donovan would be online in less than an hour; he was the missing piece on the board. If he agreed to his part in her plan, she would be able to pull it all together. She would be able to get rid of Nelson¡¯s debts and hopefully raise her rank in Goldilocks. If everything worked as she intended, it would have the added benefit of teaching Serving Time a lesson. A slow smirk spread across her lips as she once again activated her Scribe skill. It really would be nice to get back at them but she had to admit revenge had barely crossed her mind since the moment she read Nelson¡¯s Contract. Compared to his debt, a grudge over a she-said-I-said argument was trivial. As Aya¡¯s hand glided over the paper, completing yet another commissioned Contract, her mind went over the events that brought her to where she was. The moment she finally read Nelson¡¯s Contract changed everything. She found out he had a fortune in property. Unfortunately, it was all set as collateral for a debt he had somehow accrued, a debt of 700,000 gold. Which was now, by process of Contract, all hers. At first, she¡¯d been unable to react. She sat there, paralyzed, for what felt like hours. Eventually, Henry had squawked, reminding her that what was done, was done. It was the attitude she¡¯d taken after her parents death and it was the attitude she would take now. Hours in the Vault had taught her that she wasn¡¯t going to get away from the Contract she had signed, so she might as well come to terms with it. She decided to think of a solution, if there was one to be had, after she buried the man. One step at a time. Pulling the wagon to Nelson¡¯s house didn¡¯t long. The Contract showed her exactly where it was, as well as all his other possessions. She dragged him off of it and took the wagon in the direction of her hidden stash. It turned out it wasn¡¯t so hidden after all; the Contract also labeled the abandoned hut as one of Nelson¡¯s possessions. Aya picked up her picks and made her way back to Nelson¡¯s house. In his backyard, she funnelled all the aggression she¡¯d bottled up into digging his grave. It probably ended up being a little deeper than necessary. Before rolling him in, she went through his pockets. The man didn¡¯t have a single copper on him but Aya did find two puzzling items. One was an old wooden instrument, somewhere between a flute and a harmonica, the other was a golden key. Its handle was shaped like the leathery feathers she had come to know. The body landed in the hole with a dull thump. Feeling a little guilty for mishandling a dead man, she climbed down and arranged his body in a resting position, hands crossed over his middle section. Aya then took out all of the cloths and furs she¡¯d laid out for him and used them as a cover layer. Not knowing what else to do, she climbed out, crossed herself, and started shoving dirt back into the grave. It was grueling work and but the physical exhaustion curbed her irritation at her newfound circumstances. As her body worked, her mind wandered to the key. The contract had an extensive list of the man¡¯s possessions, basically everything she would lose if she wasn¡¯t able to pay back the loan, but she hadn¡¯t come across a safe or anything that might need a key. Curious, she decided to investigate the house once she¡¯d paid her respects. She stood in front of the door, bathed in sweat, grime and dust, still panting from the strenuous activity of burying a dead man. Henry was at her side as she shoved the door open. The hinges didn¡¯t squeak, they broke and the door crashed down, almost taking the frame with it. Aya jumped back as the entire house shook under the impact. Dust came loose from every surface, rushing out in every any direction it could. She turned to avoid as much of it as she could, but it was too late. Dust went into her eyes, mouth and nose. Her eyes watered and her lungs burned as she bent over, trying to cough it out. When it finally settled, and she didn¡¯t feel like she was about to asphyxiate, she turned around and took in the wreck that was the house. Parts of the roof were completely caved in, letting rays of the glaring sun into the house. Around the caved-in parts she saw signs of water damage, which she did not understand until she remembered the fact that they were in a drought. The arid climate she had already gotten used to in Era wasn¡¯t actually common for the area. As she took it in, she gingerly entered the house, conscious of the creaking floorboards beneath her feet. She was ready for the whole structure to come crashing down upon her at any minute but she was determined to find Nelson¡¯s books before she gave up. She went by room after abandoned room, a living room, a dining room, a guest room, a broom closet and a kitchen until she surrendered to the fact she would have to chance the second floor. Going up the stairs was the worst part; she took each step as slowly as she could, putting her whole foot down flat, trying to disperse her weight as much as possible. Henry, on the other hand, jumped ahead with abandon, like he was finally home. It took her until she reached the top of the stairs, some five minutes later, to realize it was probably the case. The bird was nowhere to be found by the time she reached the second floor but, following the tracks he left behind in the dust, she found him in what looked like a library/study. The sheer number of volumes that lined the shelves rivaled even the library room she¡¯d been stuck in. An image of the old drunk came to her mind and she just couldn¡¯t wrap her mind around the idea that he was the same person that possessed so many books. With a twinge of guilt at the thought, she hurried over to the desk to do what she¡¯d actually come in for. The chair behind the desk looked to be in good condition, all things considered, so Aya took her chances and sat down carefully. Her care was ruined when Henry jumped out from underneath the desk, startling her enough to jerk her into the seat. The high-backed wooden chair survived without even creaking and she sighed in relief, knowing that at least one thing wouldn¡¯t crumble into dust at her touch. Aged and yellowed papers littered the desk and the area around it. It was quite obvious that no one had been in the room in quite some time, with the layers of dust covering every surface, including the pages. But, underneath all the negligence, there were signs of abandoned wealth. A handful of fountain pens was scattered about in a disrupted row. They were luxuries; she knew this because in all the hours she¡¯d spent in the Vault, she¡¯d only seen two of the Seniors use them. Everyone else, including her, had to do with what was given to them, quills. Quills were not fun; because you had to keep dipping them, and tend them carefully, everyone would much rather have fountain pens. The fact that they didn¡¯t gave her an idea as to their cost.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. There were other signs of prosperity scattered about the room: the gilted edges on pages around the shelves, the tinted mosaic border around the window and even the fact that the chair hadn¡¯t immediately collapsed beneath her. The house looked like it hadn¡¯t been tended to in decades, at least twenty years, at least to her eyes; she wondered if the answer lay in one of the pages scattered about. She got to work in sorting them but not before she located a stack of still-usable pages and used her Scribe skill to knock out a Basic Contract. Ever since she left the Vault, she¡¯d known she was going to be relying on Contract production for money, but the 700,000 gold debt and monthly interest she had to pay on it just reinforced the fact that she had no time to waste. So, every five minutes or so, when her Scribe skill was ready to be used again, she took time away from riffling through pages to write out a contract. Most of the pages were about finances, which was exactly what she was looking for. Coincidentally, it was also what she was good at. A couple of pages in, Aya realized she was missing most of the accounts. There were various references to ledgers but she found them in a locked drawer she coincidentally had a key to before she could even start fretting about it. There were three large ledgers and a small leather-bound book that turned out to be a diary. Aya¡¯s curiosity was piqued but she put it away for later when she realized whose it was. First, she needed to find out how the money was being made, then if the numbers didn¡¯t speak like they should, she would turn to the diary. But first, out of respect and a little human decency, she decided not to invade the man¡¯s most private thoughts just a few hours after his death. It took her a while, but eventually, she finished going through everything as thoroughly as she could, given the time constraint. The history of the business was quite simple: the man had sold LayHen eggs. Nelson had started it in what must have been his early twenties. He kept records of his LayHens and what went into caring for them. Over time, his enterprise grew in size but the profit margin didn¡¯t look like it could support the lifestyle he had obviously led at some point. Then, six years later, the profits soared overnight, as if somebody flipped a switch. He expanded and expanded over the next decade and the profits just kept getting bigger. Then again, almost as if from day to night, twenty-two years ago, the profits dropped back to their original margins, the only difference being the number of LayHens. The records were kept for another year or so after the drop, but then, they just stopped. Not a single number was filled in. Aya wondered why Nelson had given up from one day to another. Even with the unexplained drop in profits, he was still making a profit. He was clearly in the black, there was no¡­ ¡°Oh¡­¡± she muttered aloud. The debt. She remembered seeing a loan being taken out at some point. It had been quite a substantial loan but she¡¯d understood it. It had been at the beginning of a new wave of profits, some ten years into the operation, right before a major expansion. From a business perspective, it was a very smart move. She thought he would have paid back the loan by the time his profits tanked, but when she checked again, she realized he had been just short of doing so. Aya cringed when she saw just how close. Going through the interest payments more carefully, she was able to work out why the accounting had just stopped one day. They¡¯d finally gotten too big for him to cover with his profits. The only puzzle pieces missing were the profit surge and drop. Aya tapped her fingers on the dusty table as she considered the situation. Her eyes took in the room with its books, and she noticed for the first time that one of the shelves had broken. The books were jammed together like cars in a junkyard. It pained her to see books like that but she had more important things to do than play maid for a dead man. Her eyes were pulled back to the small book in front of her, Nelson¡¯s diary. Her conscience told her not to, but logic told her the secret to his profit might be in there. After going through the ledgers, she couldn¡¯t help but be a little hopeful that she could turn things around. Without knowing the secret to his previous success, that hope would be fruitless. She checked the forums and everything; there was no information about LayHen eggs being sold anywhere. As a matter of fact, there was no information about LayHens having any use whatsoever. Aya sighed, disturbing some dust in the process. Her hand came up in a practiced motion, covering her nose and mouth until it settled. She squared her shoulders and glared at the diary until her timer reminded her to knock out another contract. The pile of finished contracts was growing, fifteen to be exact. Her eyes sparkled, thinking of their net worth. At 10 gold a piece, 150 gold. Her lip twitched when she worked out the low margin. At 5 gold a piece, 75 gold. Her lips tightened when she remembered the librarian¡¯s cut. 2 gold a piece, 30 gold. She sighed again just thinking of the low margin of that. One gold a piece, 15 gold. 480 gold. Her brows furrowed. That was the number she had to reach by the end of the day, and that was only to meet the interest payment. At this rate, she¡¯d end up at the bottom of a bottle in no time, just like Nelson. Frowning, she sat up and leaned forward, snatching the diary from the table with such force that she dislodged a whole layer of dust. She paid the dust no heed, instead, snapping open the diary to read. Half an hour later, with tears in her eyes, she closed it. She hadn¡¯t finished it, but she¡¯d read enough. She was stunned, speechless in fact. Catching her bearings, she got up and walked to the broken shelf. Aya took down all of the toppled books, then rearranged the ones on the bottom shelf. After making sure the books weren¡¯t arranged in any particular order that she could tell, she distributed the books from the broken shelf across other shelves in the room. Finally, she came back to the broken shelf. It was broken in half and was never going to be able to take any weight but she took the two halves and fit them together anyway, sliding the wood back into its grooves. She took the tallest book she could find and shoved it on the lower shelf, right below the break. It wasn¡¯t needed to hold the two halves together but it made her feel better. Aya stepped back and analyzed her work. If she didn¡¯t know better, she wouldn¡¯t have noticed anything wrong with the shelf, except for the fact that it had no books with it. Crossing her arms, she eyed it a moment longer before walking back to the desk and picking up the diary. She then returned to the broken shelf and placed it there. It looked lonely, just like Nelson¡¯s story after his wife¡¯s death. It was the saddest thing she¡¯d ever read, but it had also finally, finally shown her that there might be a light at the end of the tunnel. Ever since Aya had first step foot into Era, it seemed like everything was working against her. But here, here was something that had worked out extremely in her favor. She went through the list of unfortunate events that had led her to the present and realized that without them, she wouldn¡¯t have this one good coincidence, the fact that Nelson had married a scribe. Perhaps the bad things had happened for a reason, to lead her to where she was, she tried to reason. After all, it was a coincidence that might just solve everything. Okay, who was she kidding? They just happened because she had terrible luck. But, for once, it looked like her luck had changed. Then again¡­ 700,000. Chapter 32 Metropolis - Capsule Bay 28 - Unit 10 Sunday, May 10th, 2089 | 9:53am [Status: In-Game] Stashing yet another contract away, Aya looked at the list she¡¯d pinned on her task bar. A player named PetiD wanted a custom Contract with Serin, another player. It concerned their partnership for an extended quest and the distribution of goods gained therein. She went over the specifications they fit into a Standard Contract. The player had asked for an Advanced Contract but she saw no reason why it was necessary. All Contracts, no matter the grade, were binding. The only difference was, the higher the grade, the more Contracts could be customized to fit as many caveats as you wanted. In some cases, it was necessary and in some, it just wasn¡¯t. In this one, it wasn¡¯t. Aya got to work, begrudging the fact she hadn¡¯t been able to convince the librarians to share the recipe of an Advanced Contract just yet. If she had, she wouldn¡¯t have hesitated in giving the player an Advanced Contract; they were worth a LOT more. But seeing as it wasn¡¯t an option, yet, she decided to use the situation to promote her business. Honesty, but most importantly money-saving honesty would go a long way in getting more players to consider her services. If the value of a house depended on location, location, location, then the success of a business depended on publicity, publicity publicity. After getting through the custom bits of the Contract, Aya let her eyes wander across the town square. The Serving Time stand was active. Every now and again, there would be a commotion of some kind. Aya wondered how she hadn¡¯t noticed it all the times she¡¯d gone through the square before. Sometimes, it was a customer screaming at whoever was on rotation behind the stand, but more often than not, it happened to be a quarrel between the guild members themselves. Going by the fact that no player stayed for more than fifteen or twenty minutes, Aya doubted manning the stand was a favored pastime. Each quarrel she witnessed gave her hope and convinced her that things would go according to plan. That is, if Donovan agreed and if he managed to pull it off and if, and if, and if. Aya shook her head, trying to shake the off doubts. She¡¯d gone through so much already; she wasn¡¯t going to give up at the finish line. With her eyes once more focused on the task in front of her, she went over the events that had led her to where she was, trying to see if she¡¯d missed anything. After she¡¯d found out about the debt, buried a man, gone through his things and read his most private thoughts, she had found herself in his abandoned and dilapidated home. The diary had explained everything, including the state of the house. Thankfully, Nelson didn¡¯t believe in ¡°Dear Diary¡±s or daily observations about the weather. In fact, his entries were few and far between. But even so, after reading about over three decades of his life, Aya felt like she¡¯d gotten to know the man pretty well, considering he was already dead. Her timer chimed, reminding her to use her Scribe skill. She hadn¡¯t been able to tear her eyes away from the diary, effectively wasting the last six quick paychecks. Vowing not to let it happen again, even if she did happen to read another dead man¡¯s tear-jerking love story, she got back on task and knocked out another Basic Contract in record time. Aya had barely been able to contain herself when she discovered the reason behind the mysterious profit surge. It was all because of his wife, but more importantly, her Scribe skill. Never in a million years would Aya have ever even guess at the possibility of what she¡¯d read. Anya, the wife, had inscribed LayHen eggs with Contracts. And seeing as the LayHens were somehow mysteriously tied to the Forgotten Realm, their eggs, combined with a Contract, had the temporary ability to boost stats. One day, that¡¯s how long the boost lasted. From what she read, the stats were boosted by a certain percentage thatd epended on the LayHen. Some were better ¡®bred¡¯ than others. The percentages ranged anywhere from 1-15%, or at least that¡¯s how far Nelson and Anya had gotten in terms of LayHen breeding. Nelson described a Contract for each stat, ranging from Agility to Strength and beyond. Aya hadn¡¯t actually seen a single Contract in the diary, which made sense since Nelson himself wasn¡¯t a scribe. Readying herself for another search, Aya took out all of the contents of all of the desk drawers and dumped them on top. His wife was a scribe; she must have left a copy of the Contracts she used somewhere. Aya eyed the foot-high mound of jumbled pages, documents, notebooks and ledgers in front of her. Surely, she must have. An hour later, Aya¡¯s optimism had taken a dive into nonexistence. She sat back in the chair, staring at the now-organized pile of papers in front of her. While she¡¯d encountered many interesting documents detailing the care that went into all things LayHen, she hadn¡¯t found a single Contract. Looking down at the empty drawers, hoping a Contract would manifest itself out of thin air, her eyes were caught by the golden key. Without a second thought, her fingers wrapped around the cold metal and pulled it out of its lock. She considered it for the first time after having read Nelson¡¯s diary. It didn¡¯t make sense, when she thought about it. Sure, the ledgers and the diary had given her a lot of information, but she didn¡¯t see them as items the man would value so much he would keep them locked up at all times. Aya twirled the key in her fingers. Maybe he kept it because of its value, it must be worth quite a bit, especially if it really was made entirely out of gold. With its weight, Aya suspected it was. She leaned forward, propping her right elbow on the desk. Her right hand held her head as her left tapped the wooden surface with the gold key. Eyes zoning out, she tried to think of where else to look. It could be in the shelves somewhere, between all the books, but if it was¡­ it could take her all year to find and she still wasn¡¯t guaranteed anything. Plus, it was far too valuable to just be lying around¡­ wasn¡¯t it? If it were her, she¡¯d put it somewhere safe, somewhere others wouldn¡¯t even know to look, somewhere only she knew about and somewhere only she could get to. Preferably even under lock and key¡­ her hand stilled. Her left hand turned, palm side up and she opened it slowly, revealing the golden key. Could it be that¡­ It would make sense¡­ wouldn¡¯t it? But hadn¡¯t she already double-and triple-checked? The drawer was empty. Unsatisfied with the answer reason gave her, Aya got on her knees and examined the drawer more closely. Sure enough, it was empty, just as she had thought. She would have given up then, if not for the diary. It simply didn¡¯t make sense for Nelson to cling to the key for a ledger and a diary. There had to be something she was missing¡­ surely. She sat there, giving the drawer the stink-eye, until her timer chimed again. Resigned, she got to her feet and activated the Scribe skill to knock out another Basic Contract. Then, she looked down at the empty drawer and realized something. It was too shallow for¡­ Fake Bottom! Sinking back down to her knees, she tried every trick she could think of, tipping one side of the bottom, trying to find a place to pull up on, but the more she tried and failed, the more she thought she was mistaken. Her timer chimed again. Getting back to the drawer, she seriously considered breaking it to see if there was something inside, but then she thought of her mother. She used to tell Chris that each coin had three sides every time Chris got in an argument, hoping her daughter would learn to consider the situation from a different perspective. Coins had nothing to do with the drawer, but it was time that she consider it from a different perspective. Aya pulled the drawer out as far as it would go and then yanked it even further. It took some leverage, but eventually she managed to remove the damned thing. Panting, but successful, she turned the drawer upside down. ¡°Yes!¡± she screamed, not even trying to contain herself. ¡°I knew it!¡± Before her, on the bottom of the drawer, was an indentation. It had the shape of a key on one side and the shape of a feather on the other. Aya was practically beaming, grinning from ear to ear, heart thumping in her chest as she fit the key into the spot. If she was right, and the contracts were there, she could dig herself out of the mess she was in. If she wasn¡¯t¡­ Aya bit her lip, discarding the thought. As the key took its place in the wood, a circular section rose around it. Figuring it was probably like any other lock-and-key system, Aya turned it and was rewarded with a satisfying click. It was followed by multiple clanking sounds until the whole bottom of the drawer dropped by a fraction of an inch. Using the elevated circular section as a handhold, Aya grabbed the bottom and lifted it off the drawer. She felt like a kid on Christmas morning, opening her gift, not knowing what she would find. ¡°JACKPOT!¡± Aya wanted to scream, but didn¡¯t. She didn¡¯t want to jinx it, not before she was sure she was right. Things looked promising, though. As soon as the lid was off, she saw an ornately carved wooden box on one side, a little portrait of a pretty little woman in the middle and a stack of important-looking scrolls on the other. She took the scrolls out first, hoping they had sample Egg-Stat-Contracts, or whatever they were called, on them. They didn¡¯t. One was a void Contract between Nelson and a bank in Durrenheim. She could tell it was void by the missing mana. When a Contract was signed, both parties infused it with a little of their mana, where it stayed until the Contract was completed or made void by death. The other, she was surprised to find, was the Contract she had agreed to with Nelson. Effectively, it was his will and it was valid through death. Aya sighed, both because the scrolls hadn¡¯t contained the Egg-Contracts and because she¡¯d been reminded of her mountainous debt. Next, she took out the portrait and set it aside. Anya really had been a pretty woman, too bad she couldn¡¯t be more forthcoming about the Egg-Contracts. Finally, she turned to the carved wooden box. Lifting it out of the drawer¡¯s secret compartment, she was surprised by how heavy it was. Being only slightly longer than the palm of her hand, she¡¯d expected the wooden thing to weigh less. Aya took a deep breath and didn¡¯t even notice holding it in as she lifted the lid to the little box. Her breath came out in a triumphant and relieved whoosh at the sight of its contents. Dozens of little wooden squares, each engraved with the Egg-Contract for a particular stat. Looking through them, she recognized most of, but not all, the runes. She definitely wouldn¡¯t have been able to guess at them, even if she was starting to make out the basic patterns used to create Contracts. Aya put the portrait back in the drawer before putting the lid back on and sliding the drawer back into place. ifting through the piles of papers on the desk, she made a small stack of documents and pages she thought might prove useful with LayHen¡­ rearing; the rest she returned to the desk drawers. Stashing the small armful of pages into her pack, she made sure there was enough space for the two Contracts and the wooden box. Then, she stood up and dusted off her knees. She was done rummaging through dust, at least for the time being. Out in the sun once more, Aya raised a hand to shield her eyes from the glare, a sure sign that she¡¯d been in the house for too long; the damned game was turning her into a book-worm. Opening the window with Nelson¡¯s Contract, she looked up the location of his LayHen pen and made her way over, shaking her head at the ridiculous term. Her decision to leave the wagon behind unattended came easily. If the house had survived undisturbed for that long, Xavier¡¯s wagon would, too. Seeing as he was charging her by the hour, she needed to go back to town sooner rather than later. But first, she needed to check out the situation with the LayHens. It took her ten minutes to reach their pen, if you could call it that. If the house had been dilapidated, the pen was totally wrecked. She almost didn¡¯t dare stepping foot inside, the structure looked so close to just collapsing in on itself, but Henry just strutted ahead of her into the pile of planks held together by who-knew-what. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness inside. She wasn¡¯t surprised to find it empty. She¡¯d seen the LayHens roaming the region and doubted any of them even came back to the pen. With no food or water to be found in the old shack, they had nothing waiting for them there. Emotional attachment wasn¡¯t going to be a big motivator for them. She looked at Henry; he was looking back up at her, craning his neck and squawking, if the rest of his breed was anything like him, she doubted they were even capable of emotion. The bird flapped his wings at her, still craning his neck. Okay, maybe they were able of feeling some things - like animosity. Aya¡¯s shoulders drooped slightly along with her hope of resurrecting Nelson¡¯s LayHen egg empire. Berating herself for getting carried away with the idea, she initially didn¡¯t notice the shuffling sounds above her, but then Henry stilled and she heard it clearly. Her eyes went up, her head tilted back and she saw dozens of eyes staring right back at her from the shadows. She flinched before realizing she¡¯d found the LayHens. The birds were hanging from wooden rods that had quite obviously been placed there for that reason. They spanned the length of the pen and were placed just far enough apart to give each row of birds enough space. Aya swallowed, mouth dry. The LayHen¡¯s were hanging by their tails, their leathery wings wrapping them up in a cocoon, their heads sticking out at the bottom. Aya¡¯s legs and arms tensed, she took a small step back and her hands came up an inch. She was preparing for an attack of some sort, waiting from them to all drop as a horde upon her, only¡­ it didn¡¯t happen. Henry squawked, but other than that, the pen remained silent. A moment later, the birds retracted their heads back into their cocoons. Aya counted thirty-three LayHens, and wondered if there were any unaccounted for.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. By Nelson¡¯s last count, there had been over two hundred of them, but that count had been taken years ago. Tearing her eyes away from the birds, she perused the shadows. She was expecting nest boxes of some kind but instead, she found little hammocks hanging from protruding pegs. Many were missing, many were damaged, some were empty but a few had what she¡¯d really come looking for: eggs. Her breath skittered out of her in relief. She hadn¡¯t exactly expected the birds to forget how to lay eggs, but a part of her found it hard to believe that it would be as easy as coming back to a perfectly functioning system. She could feel the excitement building in her stomach, but she pressed it down. She still needed to make sure the Contracts worked. Taking an egg at random while keeping an eye on the birds, she quickly made her way back outside. She found a spot under the shade of a tree, cleared a wide area so as not to set a forest fire and went about making a campfire as Donovan had taught her. While the flames grew, she laid a couple stones around in fire and took the wooden box out of her pack. Aya flipped through the wooden squares inside until she found the Egg-Contract for strength. Before she could even wonder about how she was going to inscribe an egg, she saw a white, needle-like object attached to the lid of the box. Carefully, she grasped it and proceeded to inscribe the black egg with the runes on the wooden square. It took her a while because she didn¡¯t want to mess up. Ten minutes later, with the finished product in her hand, she couldn¡¯t help being proud of her neat work. According to the things she¡¯d read in Nelson¡¯s office, all she had to do now was eat it. Since she wasn¡¯t about to eat a raw egg, she carefully placed the hot stones into one of her more durable water skins along with the egg. She¡¯d seen Donovan do the same to make a broth, though he had used a leather bag made specifically for the purpose. Aya spent the next fifteen minutes cycling through hot stones, filling the rest of her time with the creation of Basic Contracts. It dawned on her that she needed to add Senior Aizan to the list of people she had to go see. A plan had started forming in her head, but for it to work, she would need as much starting capital as she could get her hands on. And although she¡¯d be creating a lot of Basic Contracts herself, she would need to step up her game for them to be worth her time. When she deemed the egg cooked, she took it out, careful not to burn herself, and cracked it open. Despite the black shell, she expected the egg white to be, well, white, but it was black. She thought it might be rotten but it smelled fine so she took a deep breath and ate it before she could second-guess herself. If she could get through nutri-packs, black eggs weren¡¯t going to be an issue. Surprisingly it didn¡¯t taste bad at all. Finished with her ¡®meal¡¯, she waited for something to happen. Other than her satiety level going up, nothing happened. Deflated, she went through the list of things that could have gone wrong. The runes? Maybe the fact that she¡¯d boiled the egg? Was it supposed to be eaten raw? Had she missed something? Had the egg gone bad? Was it too old? ¡°Too old,¡± she muttered, thinking back to the things she read. The Egg Contract was a Contract with the LayHen that was somehow tied to the Forgotten realm, but it also had a time constraint on it. And that¡¯s when a light bulb lit up in her head and she understood the real meaning behind it. Only the eggs laid that day would have any effect. It made sense, because otherwise there could be a dozen or more people trying to Contract the same LayHen. But it was also annoying because Aya had no way of knowing which egg was laid when. In the future, when she could take the eggs away on a daily basis, it wouldn¡¯t be a problem, but right then and there, it put a serious dent in her plans. Going back to the pen, she found the nest with the fewest eggs, eight, and took them all, hoping that LayHens were like chickens, always laying in the same nest. She went through the same process she¡¯d gone through with the first egg. It went a bit faster the second time around. The third went even faster, soon followed by the fourth. By the time she swallowed the fifth, she was starting to doubt herself. She had no way of knowing that one of the eight eggs had been laid in the last day and she had no way of knowing if the Egg-Contract was going to work. But it did; with the sixth egg she got the result she¡¯d been hoping for. A Contract lends you Strength from the Forgotten Realm! Strength Stat boost of 2%. Duration: 120 hours (effective on & off-line) At least part of it. Two percent wasn¡¯t even close to the maximum breeding results Nelson and Anya had achieved. hen again, he had abandoned the birds to the wild for two decades and beggars couldn¡¯t be choosers. Squaring her shoulders, she decided it didn¡¯t matter. Even a percentage was valuable in a world where people like Donovan fought tooth and nail for that one stat point. It would work, she¡¯d be able to set it up, especially if she could breed them back to what they used to be. Plans and ideas for the future of the LayHens started unfurling in her head. She wanted to get started immediately, but she couldn¡¯t. All her plans had one Achilles heel, the same one in fact: gold. She needed gold in order to do anything. How was she going to feed and water the chickens? Henry had been living off of blood for the last two days but unless she wanted to turn the entire flock into blood-sucking creatures and spend all her time roaming the woods to bleed creatures dry, she would need to come up with an alternative solution, a more orthodox solution. According to the records, LayHens were omnivores but Nelson had found a mix of dried berries and nuts worked best. They were varieties that were easy and cheap to find in the region¡­ when it wasn¡¯t going through a major drought. Aya would either need to come with another solution, which would involve a lot of money, or she would have to make it rain. Being a realist, she decided she¡¯d have to pay the bank in Durrenheim a visit. She packed her things, doused the fire, dusted off her tunic and was on her way. Stopping at Nelson¡¯s house, she paid her respects, dropped the picks off in one of the house¡¯s more hidden broom closets and headed toward the Rockyno field. They were nowhere to be found, which was good, and they¡¯d left all she wanted from them behind. The Rockyno dung glittered in the sunlight, lighting up the entire field. Aya was lucky no one had come by and picked up her 100% pure metal. Moving the wagon around by section, she picked the entire field clean of shit. By the time she was done, almost two hours later, she¡¯d gone through the rest of her water, was covered in muck and stunk to high heavens. But she didn¡¯t care, in the back of the wagon was a big stack of pure metal she was about to make a killing on. Henry had the gall to get on the wagon as she huffed and puffed her way back back to Durrenheim but she was too tired to bother with him. Thoughts kept swimming around in her head, trying to unravel all the strings of possibilities. She sensed there was a way to bring it all together, the picks, the LayHens, the ore, the Contracts, Senior Aizan, the blacksmiths, the banker and even ServingTime. It was all right there, staring her in the face, but she couldn¡¯t figure it out. She passed through the city gates, oblivious to the dirty looks the guards gave her. Her reputation preceded her but she was too caught up with her thoughts to notice or care. She reached Xavier¡¯s smithy soon thereafter, but she was no closer to finding a solution. Xavier was nowhere to be found, so she unloaded the pile of pure metal into a smelting basin, taking advantage of the low, smoldering fire Xavier had left behind. With the low size of the fire, it would take quite a while for the metal to melt completely but chances were, it would be done by the time she returned from her visit to the banker. Aya made her way to the bank, using Nelson¡¯s void Contract as a map. She went right through the plaza, once more taking note of the Serving Time stand. All of the customers looked pissed off, but thankfully, she didn¡¯t recognize anyone there. Only when she reached the other end of the plaza did she see someone she knew, Xavier. He had far more customers than Serving Time but even here, the customers were wearing frowns. The only difference between the two stands was that here even the vendor, Xavier, looked like he¡¯d just eaten a lemon. Aya pursed her lips and exited the square, not failing to take note of the position Xavier had chosen, as far from Serving Time as possible. Following the map, Aya snaked her way through the streets until she finally reached her destination, Durrenheim City Bank. It was a large, three-story brick building with large windows and in great shape compared to the others on the street. Unlike the others, which were crumbling under the heat of the sun, the bank didn¡¯t look like the city it belonged to was going through a crisis so big its population was fleeing. Aya stood there a moment, looking up at the large, golden letters of the bank¡¯s name, then lower, at the entrance. The doorway was framed by two bulky guards, one on each side. She was taking in their stance when she felt cold drops of water hit her skin. She looked up, expecting to see a cloud. Rain? But no, there was only blue sky as far as the eye could see. Of course it wasn¡¯t going to rain, she thought, feeling foolish for ever considering the possibility. She convinced herself she had imagined the moisture, but as she, stepped toward the bank, she was once again struck by a droplet of water. This time, she was sure she wasn¡¯t imagining it. But if it wasn¡¯t rain, what was¡­ And that¡¯s when she saw him. A boy of no more than fifteen, an NPC, carefully ladling water onto the bricks. What the? And that¡¯s when it clicked, the reason why the building didn¡¯t look so bad. Aya¡¯s legs carried her inside as she considered the significance of the watered bricks. As a bank, it made sense for them to value their image, but going as far as spending what must be hundreds of gold a day, just to keep the bricks from bleaching under the sun? Image was most important when the reality was not doing so great, which meant things really must not be doing so great. She pursed her lips, lost in thought, until she felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning around, she came face-to-face with a barrel-like man not much taller than herself, an impressive feat, considering. ¡°How can I help you, er¡­¡± he said, eyeing her up and down, trying to come to a conclusion. ¡°Miss?¡± Aya ignored the doubt in his tone.¡°I¡¯m here to talk to you about Nelson O¡¯Halary,¡± she said, watching as his mouth flattened into a thin, tight, line. ¡°What about¡­him?¡± the banker asked, nearly choking on the words through his gritted teeth. ¡°He¡¯s uhh¡­¡± Aya said, not sure how to finished the sentence. ¡®Dead¡¯ seemed like a very harsh word, all of a sudden. ¡°He was very sick and uhh¡­ didn¡¯t make it. I¡¯m sorry.¡± Aya wasn¡¯t sure the man would even care, but the moment he heard the words, his face drained completely. Without another word, he turned and walked toward an open office door she supposed he¡¯d come out of. The foyer was empty with the exception of the two of them, and not knowing what was expected, she followed quietly behind him. Inside his office, he walked to a sideboard and poured himself some water, mumbling to himself. ¡°Dead, just like that, dead,¡± he was saying, barely audible from where Aya was standing. She inched closer to hear him add, ¡°And I told them, I told them it was a bad idea to extend his credit. The man was¡ª¡± he cut himself off with a sigh and downed the entire cup of water in one go. He poured himself another one. ¡°But do they care about that? No, of course not, he¡¯s related to the Mayor¡­¡± he said, taking another sip of water. ¡°But is he gonna pay off his debt? Didn¡¯t think so¡ª¡± another cup of water gone. He started pouring himself a third cup, but remembered he wasn¡¯t alone. ¡°Anyway¡­ Miss¡­¡± he said. ¡°How can I be of assistance?¡± Aya considered him, surprised at the way he was treating her. She had expected to be treated with contempt if not for her horrible reputation with the city, then at least for her childlike or pauper appearance. Bankers were notoriously rude to those that didn¡¯t bring them profit, but then again¡­ Perhaps he was desperate enough to look for profit wherever he could. Instinctively, her eyes fell to his shoes. The suit he was wearing had pinstripes on it, perhaps a failed attempt to elongate his squat, barrel-like figure. Aya wasn¡¯t worried about that; what got to her was the discrepancy between the shoes and the suit. The shoes were ragged. People always replaced their shoes last, thinking it was the last place people checked. ¡°Well¡­¡± Aya said, considering the situation. ¡°I¡¯d like to make an¡­ account with you.¡± The banker nodded, eyes starting to glaze over as he sat down, motioned for her to do the same and started to answer. ¡°Of course,¡± he said. ¡°Many Outworlders like yourself like to create accounts with us. I will need your name and some other basic information¡­¡± ¡°Aya,¡± she said, wondering if he would recognize her name. Surely he would know who had taken over Nelson¡¯s Contract by now. ¡°All right Aya, and what kind of account would you like?¡± he inquired politely. The man shuffled some papers on his desk, hands moving with practiced ease. Aya almost gaped at his lack of reaction to her name. He didn¡¯t know. She nodded slowly, as if considering his words. ¡°We are currently offering some very advantageous rates for long-term investments.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± she asked, feigning interest. ¡°Yes, there is a lumber mill¡­¡± the banker said, going off on detailed descriptions of possible investments. Aya sat calmly, trying to pay as much attention to the conversation as she could. Eventually, he ran out of words, but she forced herself to take another contemplative pause before asking the question that had been burning on her lips. ¡°What about Nelson¡¯s business?¡± ¡°Nel¡ª But that¡¯s¡­¡± The banker¡¯s eyebrows rose and Aya could almost read the thoughts zipping through his head. It took him a moment, but eventually he composed himself enough. His tone was careful and veiled when he spoke again. ¡°Nelson, as you yourself have informed me, is dead¡­¡± he said, hands clasped in front of him. ¡°Most of his assets have already been appropriated by the bank¡­¡± Aya hid her surprise, but immediately brought up a window of her Contract with Nelson, she had a physical copy but she wasn¡¯t about to shove proof of her subterfuge in his face. She paid special attention to the words used documenting his assets. Squelching a grimace, she moved the window aside. Not only had he saddled her with 700,000 gold in debt, he also didn¡¯t own a single thing. Unless he paid it all back¡­ with interest. The assets weren¡¯t collateral for his debt, they had already been seized. ¡°He has been defunct on his debt for quite some time. The bank will not be taking over operations, so unless you are willing to purchase his assets directly and take over the day-to-day management¡­¡± Aya could see the glimmer of hope in his eyes, she hid a smile of her own. Apparently, this man was not aware of her Contract with Nelson. He didn¡¯t know she was the one who owed them 700,000 gold now, but she wasn¡¯t about to let him find out. ¡°I am,¡± she stated simply, taking advantage of the banker¡¯s ignorance. In fact, she was going to sign a new Contract with him, one that would supersede the last. After all, Contracts were unbreakable other than by death, unless both parties agreed on a new Contract that replaced the last. Aya hoped her childish appearance would keep her innocent charade going. The banker almost managed to conceal his surprise at her words, but a twitch of the eyebrows gave it away. He was definitely pleased with the prospect of a new customer getting the bad debt off of his ledger, but before his relief turned to smugness, she added, ¡°If the price is right.¡± His brow twitched again, giving him away. Aya hid a smug smile of her own. Chapter 33 Metropolis - Capsule Bay 28 - Unit 10 Sunday, May 10th, 2089 | 9:57am [Status: In-Game] Durrenheim¡¯s scorching sun only got hotter as midday approached. Aya shielded her eyes and looked up to see the sun approximately where she¡¯d expect Earth¡¯s sun to be at ten in the morning. It was strange how time dilation worked. An Era day was like a normal Earth day, the only difference being it had five times as many hours. She¡¯d logged on a little after seven real time, meaning she¡¯d been in game for almost fourteen hours. It was strange to think that so much could happen in Era while the minutes slowly ticked by on Earth. It made her all too aware of how important her rank was; if she couldn¡¯t pull through by the end of the week¡­ she¡¯d never make it. Aya bit her lip, uncertainty taking over. ¡®Surely, they¡¯d see my earning potential after today...¡¯ Aya had almost succeeded in comforting herself when other thoughts poked at her vulnerability. ¡®That is, if Donovan¡­¡¯ ¡®But if he doesn¡¯t¡­¡¯ Her thoughts started spiraling into the black hole of despair she¡¯d avoided all morning. ¡°No!¡± she said out loud before she could stop herself. Players and NPCs alike looked at her uncertainly. She flushed, ducked her head and pretended to talk to another player through her interface. They couldn¡¯t know she was bluffing¡­ could they? It was enough of a distraction to get her going again. Aya watched from across the plaza as the Serving Time group broke into yet another quarrel. Taking out her notebook, she occupied herself by making as many observations as she could, who was fighting who, but more importantly, about what. She¡¯d witnessed enough fights over the last couple of hours to know Serving Time members didn¡¯t agree on everything. In fact, they didn¡¯t agree on much of anything. Aya smirked and put her notebook away when the fight broke up a few minutes later. It was time to get her head in the game again. Nodding once, she set her worries aside and got back to work. Opening the forums, she selected a saved shortcut. It led her to a list of custom Contract requests, the same one she¡¯d been industriously going through for the last three Era hours. She browsed it one last time, making sure that no new requests she could fulfill had come in. Then she spent the next ten minutes uploading the backlog of Contracts she¡¯d created. She picked up a Contract, matched it to its request, selected the upload option and watched as the Contract in her hands disappeared. It was like watching a wind blow the Contract away, pixel by pixel. She¡¯d been fascinated the first time she saw it. Aya repeated the procedure for the fifteen or so Contracts she hadn¡¯t uploaded yet. With only two more to go, she finally reached her daily gold payment with the bank. She heaved a sigh of relief when her Contract payments didn¡¯t automatically go into the bank¡¯s account. Instead, she was now the wealthy possessor of 52 gold. In the hands of a level six player, it was a fortune. In the hands of someone who should have at least been level 15 by now, it was okay. But in the hands of someone who had 10,000 gold only hours before¡­ ¡®Well,¡¯ Aya thought. ¡®Let¡¯s just hope I made the right investments.¡¯ After over an hour of talking to the banker, Aya walked out of Durrenheim City Bank with a subtle smile of victory and 10,000 in gold. She¡¯d achieved more than she expected to but less than she wanted. Sensing eyes on her, she turned and waved at Qanelin, the banker. From the window, the banker waved back and watched the small boyish girl leave. He sported the same smile. After the slight figure disappeared behind a corner, he walked to a filing cabinet and stored the hard copy of Aya¡¯s Contract. He¡¯d managed to get a great deal, considering. The girl had driven a surprisingly tough bargain, but he¡¯d still come out on top. Of that there was no doubt. He took out Nelson¡¯s void Contract and grinned. If only she knew the nightmare she had prevented. Walking over to the fireplace, he never noticed Aya¡¯s name on the Contract before he destroyed it. Down the street and out of view, Aya literally skipped with joy. A huge weight had been lifted off of her shoulders, making her feel light as a feather. She continued skipping the span of two blocks, until the City Library came into view before her. The sight hit her like a big bucket of ice water. Aya sighed, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She couldn¡¯t celebrate yet. All the pieces had come together during her hour-long negotiation with Qanelin, but she¡¯d only pulled off one of the many steps ahead of her. Yes, she¡¯d managed to make a deal of 112,000 gold for all of Nelson¡¯s property, when the land value alone was 280,000. Or at least that is what Qanelin assured her, even going as far as showing her the value of other land Contracts in the region. She, in turn, had pointed out the drought, its uncertain end and the obvious exodus from the region. It had been a battle of wills, back and forth, back and forth. In the end, the price had landed closer to her proposal than his. The next item of debate had been her collateral. Not owning anything, she had been forced to offer her service as a Scribe until all of her debt was repaid. Aya cringed just thinking about how many Basic Contracts would be needed for the feat. Qanelin had argued along the same lines until she pulled a blank sheet off of his table along with a heavily ornamented fountain pen. Even though it was flashier than Nelson¡¯s pens, she noticed the quality of the pen itself was inferior. Filing the information away for later use, Aya activated her Scribe skill and proceeded to bang out a Basic Contract in record time. The action impressed Qanelin enough for him to agree. Collateral taken care of, they moved to payment time frame. Being all too aware of the effect of compound interest - she knew a thing or two about student loans - she tried to forego interest completely. Qanelin had not been on board at all. Bankers loved interest, so in order to convince him, she offered to pay off the debt within a year. The proposition softened the banker a bit, but not enough to close the deal. Knowing she had been pushing for too much, she decided to give a little in the negotiations, first offering weekly and then daily payments. At that point she knew she almost had him, but not quite yet. Thinking fast, she added another bribe, promising to pay him half of her daily LayHen earnings as soon as it exceeded 307 gold a day. Qanelin had pursed his lips in thought but finally turned her down. He claimed there was no guarantee that she would be able to get the business going again, even if she could offer the same stat-Eggs as Nelson had, once upon a time. She sat back in thought, considering his words. Aya realized he was probably right. The amount of starting capital she would need to get the operation going was ridiculous. The renovation, food and maintenance costs alone would break her. She couldn¡¯t do it, not without starting capital. And that¡¯s when she asked for an additional 10,000 gold loan. Qanelin shook his head immediately turning her down, he did it repeatedly until she agreed on something ridiculous. 0.5% interest, paid on a daily basis. An additional 50 gold a day. She was down to paying him 357 gold a day, but she walked out of there anyway. If she could pay it off within a week, she would only have wasted 350 gold total on the loan. And having the gold on hand now was huge. If she could survive the week, coming up with the money wouldn¡¯t be a problem. Not if everything worked like it should. But if it didn¡¯t, and she ended up with only ten game hours a day¡­ ¡®It takes money to make money,¡¯ she thought bitterly, clearing her head of negative thoughts. Sure, it was a lot of starting capital. The only problem was, it wasn¡¯t enough starting capital, at least not for the LayHens. It wasn¡¯t even enough for her Chain of Production plan, at least not with a little boost. She smiled at the City Library¡¯s front double door. Two NPC guards stood there, frowning at her. It was clear her reputation was going to give her problems down the line; she just didn¡¯t know how much, yet. She heard murmurs of complaint as she passed. ¡°Isn¡¯t th¡ª one that¡­¡± ¡°Let her pass¡­ ¡ªior Aizan said¡­ ¡ªault access¡­¡± ¡°That thing!¡± were the only words she heard clearly, uttered in an exclamation that cut the conversation short. Henry cocked his head to the side, as if considering the situation for her, and they progressed to the Vault. Finding Senior Aizan was easy after that. He was surprised to see her so soon, but understood immediately when she asked to be instructed in more complex Contracts. She readied herself for a long, drawn-out negotiation, but unlike with Qanelin, she was able to get what she wanted much faster. In less than half an hour, she walked away with the knowledge to create the next three grades of Contracts, all the way up to the Standard Contract. Sure, she would have to submit 25 copies of each to the Vault, without pay, but it was a more than favorable Contract. It was only much later that she considered the effects her Manipulation Tree and her reputation points had on her discussion with Senior Aizan. Throughout her conversation with Qanelin she¡¯d received various ¡°Manipulation Tree Thrives¡± updates. But it was only after she received the same with Aizan that she considered the possibility her Manipulation Tree had helped her in making better deals. For a moment, she felt a little deflated. There she was, thinking she was some hot-shot manipulator, when in reality her Manipulation Tree was having some kind of effect on NPCs. She sighed on her way out of the library, until she remembered the conversations she still had ahead of her, conversations with real players, not NPCs. She smiled and then frowned a moment later when Obelisk came online. Thinking about manipulating and actually manipulating were two very different things. Aya sighed and pinged Obelisk. The plan was simple: she was going to create a production line of weapon and metal goods for Durrenheim. She didn¡¯t intend on fulfilling any of the positions herself - no, she¡¯d done enough mining and hauling for a lifetime - but she saw a vacancy in the market and she was going to fill it. She was going to be the middleman. Now she only had to get everyone to agree. Obelisk got on board surprisingly easily. She¡¯d shot her number really low, unsure of what his break-even was going to be. Aya offered to pay 70% of the ore¡¯s value, delivered at the mine itself. Obelisk agreed to 75%. She didn¡¯t outright tell him what her plan was, but she figured he could probably work out the gist of it. By eliminating his need to go back to Durrenheim with a full pack of ore, she not only increased his mining time, but also increased his speed of Skill progression. Aya was just beginning to understand how valuable that was. She used a Standard Contract to seal the deal. If Obelisk was surprised by the move, he didn¡¯t show it, but he did ask if she was on the hunt for more clients. He had friends and innocently suggested they, too, might be interested in her offer. Aya saw the opportunity and grabbed it. Having learned from their deal that she could have gone lower, Aya told him she would be offering 70% of Durrenheim¡¯s market ore value from then on. Before he could argue against it on ¡®principle¡¯, she offered him 1% of the cut. He took 2%; she¡¯d been willing to offer 2.5%. Both parties walked away happy with the deal and another Standard Contract was signed.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The next step of the production line was a tricky one. It took her a while to figure out how to do it, but she finally decided to use new players as her ¡®cheap labor¡¯. It seemed like every production line depended on it at some point. She felt like she was taking advantage of them a little, but such was business. Walking back to the center of the square, she bought five basic ore sacks and waited by the beginner¡¯s location for the next new player to sign in. It didn¡¯t take long for three players to pop in, not more than 5 minutes apart. The reason was made clear almost immediately: they were friends. Two had played before and were showing their ¡®noob¡¯ friend around. She detailed her proposal. The two players were immediately wary until she showed them three valid Basic Contracts, after which they all accepted, each taking one of her ore sacks before they left. She offered the sack as a bonus for anyone that filled it 50 times, though she doubted any of them would do it. The deal was simple, 1 gold for each sack of ¡®junk ore¡¯ they filled up and dropped off at the coordinates she¡¯d designated, about 50 feet from the entrance. For now, she didn¡¯t need to worry about theft, not with the junk ore that was so freely lying around everywhere in the mine, but it occurred to her she should probably think of security next. Trust wasn¡¯t something she was having luck with recently, and the more she thought about it, the less it seemed plausible for her to trust anyone. Then she smacked herself in the head. Duh! Who needed trust when you had Contracts? But who would want a guard position? Standing outside the mine, keeping watch over a useless pile of ore? The foreman! He was standing there anyway, working on his reputation points; no man would turn down some easy gold on the side. It occurred to her that the price she offered didn¡¯t matter, not with Contracts to force their honesty, but she decided to offer him a fair compensation anyway, ten gold an hour. She brought up the Town Bulletin window and found the listing for that day¡¯s mine foreman, a player named Phora. Aya PM¡¯d her, wondering if she would accept. Aya attached the Contract, ready for approval, but she was still an unknown prisoner and she knew how players generally felt about them. While waiting for a reply, another new player logged in, almost immediately followed by a friend. The sight made her feel a little lonely. Ever since the murder, she¡¯d felt more alone than ever. Before, she¡¯d had Rin, but in prison, she had no one on her side. Aya tried consoling herself with the thought of Donovan and Tiny but the antisocial kid and hulk-woman hardly counted as her friends. She rolled her eyes, clearing her mind of the melodrama to focus on the moment. The two new players were both interested and suspicious, in the end suspicion won and they went on their way. It took another ten minutes for a player to show up; she filled the time by working on her Contract with Senior Aizan. This one showed up on her own, was skeptical like the others at first, but eventually accepted and left with one of her ore sacks. Two minutes later, another solitary player showed up to take her last ore sack. She had no idea how many carriers she would need to keep up with the haulers that she still needed to find, but eventually the bottlenecks would show themselves. In production lines, it was just a matter of time. As she saw it, the production line would look something like this: Miners ¡ª> Carriers ¡ª> Haulers I ¡ª> Rockyno Drop Off ¡ª> Haulers II ¡ª> Blacksmiths Having sorted the first two, she needed to find a solution for the third. She would need a wagon. Knowing she would have to contact Xavier later for the final link in the production chain anyway, she put the wagon off for later. Instead, she focused on finding players to pull them. Hiring animals like bulls and horses was a possibility, but as her earlier deal with Xavier had shown her, it was just too expensive at the moment. With the heat and drought going on, caring for a large animal was more expensive than caring for a player. This meant she would need to find players, preferably large players, like the orcs that had¡­ Why not the orcs themselves? She wondered how she would find them until she remembered the picks they¡¯d gotten out of their initial deal only the day before yesterday. Aya contacted Obelisk and, as she expected, he testified to their presence in the mines. He put them in contact with each other, jokingly telling her she owed him one. She knew he would be collecting on it at a later point. The deal with the orcs was a little harder to finagle, especially since she had to add a confidentiality clause to the Contract. She¡¯d found out about the Rockynos in the forums but as far as she knew, no one had tried it on such a large scale before. Aya wasn¡¯t about to start giving people ideas, not when they were hers and potentially about to make her a killing. Unfortunately, they did not accept gold as payment and she ended up having to promise them each a pick for a day¡¯s worth of work. Not knowing how long it would take to get a pile going, she scheduled the first run for five hours from then. Later, she would find out that she could¡¯ve started right then. A day¡¯s work was agreed as 8 hours of Era time. Seeing as each pick was worth anywhere from 80-300+ gold, they were being ridiculously overpaid. Instead of seeing it as a rip-off, she chose to see it as the price of confidentiality and an easy way of disposing of the picks without raising attention to herself. If someone really wanted to, they would be able to trace them back to her, so she added a little caveat as a security measure. The orcs would not be able to sell, trade or give the picks away. It was a sloppy band-aid of protection, but unless she was willing to hire a scapegoat as an intermediary, she had to risk exposure somewhere. Having the Haulers figured out, she was left with her final and production-line critical link. Really, she should have talked to Xavier first, made sure he was on board. But fear he wouldn¡¯t agree, no matter what she said, had kept her from seeing him. Sitting in the same spot in the square, she had no excuse not to approach him when he packed up his goods and left his stand. She followed, lamely waiting for an opportunity to broach the subject. Aya didn¡¯t have to wait long. Not even a block from the square, on the way to the smithy, Xavier turned around and barked at her, eyebrows drawn together. She¡¯d seen him have a bad day at the stand. At first, she thought it would make him more amenable to her cause, but the stern look in his eyes made her doubt herself. She shouldn¡¯t have. The moment she made her offer his expression changed. Showing him the vat full of 100% pure metal cinched the deal, but Aya suspected he would have been on board even with 10% purity. She found out that Serving Time was taking a cut in all of the blacksmiths¡¯ earnings, apparently the Contract magic wasn¡¯t lost on everyone. It made it almost impossible to make a profit. Unfortunately, the guild had been smart enough to force Contracts on all the crafters. Fortunately, there was such a thing as a loophole. The Contract explicitly said ¡°any earnings made anywhere in Durrenheim¡± and it just so happened that Aya knew of a place just a ways off. The next step was a little more complicated, as it involved rounding up all the exploited craftsmen. She needn¡¯t have worried; Xavier almost jumped at the opportunity. It was strange seeing the man¡¯s surly attitude changed so suddenly into one of almost manic vengeance. She vowed to never get on the man¡¯s bad side¡­ again. While Xavier rounded up the craftsmen, Aya went to see a Constructor. The players with the professions had already moved out the moment people stopped building, but Aya found an NPC with emotional ties to the region. At first he turned her away; her reputation was just that bad. Shamed, she asked Xavier for an introduction. After the blacksmith, who knew Ackman, introduced her, he accepted her Contract. ¡°All I am sayin¡¯ is,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll be checkin¡¯ on this place of yers. No promises or nothin¡¯.¡± ¡°¡­I understand, Mr.Ackman,¡± she replied carefully. ¡°Oh, naw. I¡¯m no mister. Just Ackman will do just fine,¡± he said, relaxing his tall wiry frame by a fraction. ¡°So where is this place of yers anyway?¡± ¡°It¡¯s halfway between here and the mines,¡± she said, trying to explain. ¡°If you walk about 15 minutes outside of town and head directly¡­¡± ¡°Wait,¡± he said, suddenly alert. ¡°This Nelson¡¯s place yer talkin¡¯ bout? Be crawlin with these bird-buggers like?¡± ¡°Well¡­ yea,¡± Aya said, surprised the man knew it. Taking a closer look, she noticed the man¡¯s age for the first time. It was very near what Nelson¡¯s would have been, at least from the accounts in his diary. She would never have guessed the man she buried to be anything less than eighty. In actuality he had only been pushing the early sixties. ¡°What you doin¡¯ on Nelson¡¯s land now?¡± Ackman asked, suspicious. ¡°Oh,¡± Aya said, uncomfortable. ¡°You don¡¯t know yet¡­¡± ¡°Know what now?¡± ¡°Nelson¡­ passed away¡­¡± Ackman¡¯s eyes progressed from surprise to doubt and anger in less than a second. ¡°I dun¡¯ believe it,¡± he said. ¡°Man was drinkin¡¯ it up, usual-like just night before last¡­¡± Aya pursed her lips, unsure of how to tell him everything. She started at the beginning, with her meeting Nelson in prison. When he asked, she even offered the reason behind her own conviction. At first he didn¡¯t comment, but when the story was told he warmed up to her really fast. ¡°That¡¯s real respectable-like,¡± he said, with a firm set to his jaw. ¡°Man never was the same after Anya¡­ Maybe now he¡¯ll get some peace.¡± Aya nodded mutely and they sat in silence, sipping the small cups of water he had brought out. The drought was hitting everyone really hard and the more people she met, the more sorry Aya felt for them. She¡¯d chosen the location because of the drought, but in all her time in the game she hadn¡¯t even gotten past her own problems. After taking the final sip in continued silence, Ackman got up and showed her out. He assured her he still knew how to get to Nelson¡¯s place and said he¡¯d look at the buildings if he had a chance as well. If he was curious about why she wanted a little shop built so far from any market, he didn¡¯t show it. Watching the tall wiry man go around the corner, shrugged and headed for the square once more. Having tackled all of the links, all she could do now was wait and see how it all panned out. She¡¯d been very generous with handing out Contracts, so there was no need to supervise. Everyone would do exactly as she had asked, she smiled at the thought, feeling a little dictatorial. Contracts really were the best thing that could have happened to her. Thinking about it, she got to work on her daily payment to the bank. It was one of the things she hadn¡¯t finished yet. Throughout the rest of the morning she got various messages, one from Phora accepting the Contract, one from Obelisk giving her two more miners and one from Xavier updating her on the Crafter-hunt. In less than two hours, he had managed to round up four Crafters and expected to hear from another fourteen throughout the day as they logged on. Ackman also hunted her down at some point. He quoted the project at 10,000 gold. Using manipulation, arguments about the drought and desertment and his friendship with Nelson, she eventually managed to talk him down to 8,000 gold. It was still quite a steep price and she briefly considered charging it to the blacksmiths¡¯ fee, but decided against it. Having the shop paid by her would make them more willing to listen to her in the future¡­ she hoped. It was like watching a symphony come together, at last. She sighed in relief, watching the pieces finally tumbling together. There were a few things left to iron out. She¡¯d been thinking about the Rockynos. Seeing as they were the only link not Contracted to her, they were the most unreliable. She would need to find a way to control them, maybe herding? She wondered if she could breed them like the LayHens, but that¡¯s also when she realized she was getting ahead of herself. No point in putting the wagon in front of the horse. One step at a time. For now, all she could do was wait and see what parts of the production chain needed adjusting. For her to figure it out, she needed to let it run a little. If a major problem came up, one of her Contractees would message her about it. It was a caveat she had made sure to add to every one of them. And that¡¯s how Aya, a level six player, ended up sitting in the square in charge of a growing operation already including more than twenty players and a couple of NPCs. All that was left was to wait for the final puzzle piece to show up: Donovan. She looked at the clock: 9:59am real time. It was normal for people to say ten and show up ten or fifteen minutes late, but then again, Donovan wasn¡¯t normal. She suspected he would show up at exactly 10:00. And, as if on cue, the second the clock changed its display, he came online on her friends¡¯ list. She smiled, knowing for sure she¡¯d chosen the perfect person for the job. The only question now, was whether or not he would accept. Without missing a beat she messaged him. Aya: Hey kid, you ready? Donovan: Yes. She waited a minute to see if he would add something. He didn¡¯t. Aya suppressed a giggle but couldn¡¯t stop the eyeroll. Aya: I meant, can you meet up right now? Donovan: My mother says I cannot. Aya: ¡­ What? ¡­ Why not? Donovan: You are a prisoner. Chapter 34 Metropolis - Capsule Bay 286 - Unit 10 Sunday, May 10th, 2089 | 10:00am [Status: In-Game] Aya could only stare at Donovan¡¯s message. Her plan was threatening to unravel before her eyes and she tried frantically to come up with something that could patch it all back together, but she couldn¡¯t. Without Donovan, she probably wouldn¡¯t be able to pull it off. Nobody else would be as effective against Serving Time. Having experienced Donovan firsthand, she could confidently say he was a distinctly unique individual. She would never sing praises about his personality, but in this case, it could be the saving grace of the operation. Her mind was spinning, trying to come up with something to change his mind. Aya: What about your quest? Were you able to find someone? She waited anxiously for him to message her back. Luckily, his neurotic personality didn¡¯t let her wait long. Donovan: It is still ongoing. No, I have not. Breathing a sigh of relief, she wondered why she¡¯d even worried in the first place. She knew what the boy was like. Aya: What are you going to do then? Did you find a way to do it by yourself? Donovan: I will use you. I have not. Aya rolled her eyes and smiled at his typical terse response. As always, he took one question at a time, like they were part of two completely different conversations. She chuckled and shook her head in a mixture of exasperated amusement and relief Aya: ¡­ But didn¡¯t you just say you couldn¡¯t? She wasn¡¯t used to conflicting statements from Donovan¡¯s arguments. They were usually so dry and factual that a misunderstanding was nigh on impossible. Donovan: Could not and would not are not the same thing in this scenario. Aya: ¡­ Huh? Donovan: I assume that is your way of prompting me for an explanation. My mother is not always correct in her assumptions. Aya: And by that you mean¡­ She ¡®prompted¡¯ him further. Donovan: Exactly what I said. Aya: ¡­ Explain further. Donovan: My mother assumes I cannot play with prisoners. She also says I can not finish my daily homeschool assignment in two hours. In a sense, she is correct about the latter. Aya: So¡­ what does that mean? Donovan: My average completion time is around one hundred and eleven minutes. Once again, she found herself torn between amusement and exasperation. Aya: What I meant was¡­ So are you going to play with me? Donovan: Naturally. I have not found a better replacement. And by that, I mean I have found none. He¡¯d just admitted no one wanted to work with him and yet he delivered it in such a way that was insulting to her. She gritted her teeth, trying to find amusement in the fact. Aya: But what about¡­ your mom? Will she be okay with it? She hesitated in adding the last bit, but having raised a kid herself she felt trapped by the non-existent ¡®mom-code¡¯, even if it was just to relieve her own conscience. Donovan: What about her? All she said was that I cannot play with you. As the past has shown, I obviously can. As to whether or not she will be okay with it, I have no idea. Aya: But if she said you can¡¯t¡­ Donovan: Precisely. She said cannot, not should not. Now can we please get on with it? You are wasting my time. Aya: Right¡­ Aya didn¡¯t know what to think of Donovan¡¯s interpretation of his mother¡¯s words, but since they went in line with what she wanted, she decided to mull over the morality of it later. She sent him her coordinates in the square and he was there less than five minutes later. His stoic face took in the stack of Contracts as she put it away. The slant of his eyes gave away his curiosity, but he didn¡¯t ask so she didn¡¯t tell. She figured he was curious, but not curious enough to go through the effort of finding out. Slowly, she was getting used to him and his peculiarities. She just hoped it was enough to convince him to go along with her plan. ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°What do you mean¡­ no?¡± ¡°I mean no,¡± he said. ¡°I won¡¯t do it.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± she asked, hands raised in question. ¡°Because it is a waste of time. I am busy.¡± ¡°You¡¯re busy,¡± she repeated flatly. ¡°With your quest?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Which you need my help for?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Donovan said. ¡°Well, anyone would do, but yes.¡± ¡°Which I need to level up for?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°You need to be at least level twelve and that is if you followed my leveling instructions.¡± ¡°I did,¡± she replied. ¡°Good,¡± he said. ¡°What level are you¡­¡± His mouth thinned into a straight line. ¡°Six,¡± Donovan answered himself in an eerily low voice without any intonation whatsoever. Aya suppressed a smile and shrugged. ¡°So you see,¡± she said innocently. ¡°It won¡¯t be a waste of time. I¡¯m gonna need it anyway.¡± Donovan slowly dragged his eyes up. Aya had never seen anyone manage to roll their eyes without directly doing so until that moment. She bit the inside of her cheeks to stop herself from grinning like an idiot. ¡°Fine,¡± he said. ¡°I have one condition.¡± ¡°Name it,¡± she said perhaps a little too enthusiastically. ¡°This time, I want a Contract detailing the exact mission parameters. I need your side of the deal to be added in as well. You will help me with this chain of quests until it is done.¡± ¡°Fine,¡± she said, echoing him. ¡°What¡¯s a chain of quests?¡± ¡°It occurs when one quest leads to another. Some quests need you to perform a certain action to unlock them. Others require the completion of a previous quest.¡± ¡°Huh,¡± she said. ¡°And how many are there going to be in this¡­ chain?¡± ¡°I do not know,¡± he said. Donovan¡¯s expression remained as unchanged, but Aya thought she could see him smirking through the stoic facade. Not having a choice, she shrugged, agreed to the deal and wrote out the Contract that they both signed. ¡°Alright, now that the Contract is taken care of,¡± he said, ¡°how exactly am I supposed to join a convict-only guild?¡± ¡°By applying,¡± she responded simply. ¡°Oh,¡± he said. ¡°I had not realized they even accepted reg applications.¡± ¡°They probably don¡¯t,¡± she said. ¡°But the way I see it, they¡¯ll accept you.¡± She poked his scrawny chest for emphasis. He eyed the motion blankly and as usual, without any reaction whatsoever. Aya rolled her eyes. ¡°No offense,¡± she said. ¡°But you¡¯re like¡­¡± Aya clamped her mouth shut before she said something she¡¯d regret and added ¡°Well, let¡¯s just say you have a very dependable¡­ countenance. They¡¯ll trust you and right now¡­ they sorta need you.¡± ¡°How so?¡± ¡°Well,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ve been doing some research on my own. They don¡¯t agree on much. The only thing they agree on it seems, is the need to make money. Unfortunately for them, but fortunately for us, they don¡¯t trust each other at all.¡± ¡°But you say they will trust me,¡± he said, crossing his arms. ¡°Yes,¡± she said. ¡°They need an¡­ accountant, a go-between, a middle-man. They just haven¡¯t realized it yet¡­ but when you show up with a Contract,¡± she pulled out another Contract and handed it to him. ¡°Offering your services¡­ they¡¯ll jump at the opportunity.¡± He didn¡¯t say anything, maintaining his stoic demeanor, but she could tell he doubted her plan. ¡°Look,¡± she said. ¡°None of the members like the stand, but they need it. If you show up offering to cover the stand for the whole time you¡¯ll get one-on-one time with each member as they cycle through. That will give you a chance to learn a lot. But mostly I just need to know what their profit margin is,¡± she said, counting the things out with her fingers. ¡°their cost of production, the weapon specs of what they sell... And if you can¡­¡± she added, pausing as she organized her thoughts,¡°Find out about the noobs they¡¯re bringing in from other regions.¡± Ever since Yaz had mentioned it, Aya hadn¡¯t been able to shake the feeling that something was up.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. ¡°You speak as if you are not one yourself,¡± Donovan said. She gritted her teeth and chose to ignore it. ¡°But that¡¯s just a side thing,¡± she added. ¡°Primarily, I want your focus to be on the weapons, we¡¯ll only have one shot at this. If we can¡¯t break them with our first go¡­ they¡¯ll have time to restructure and reorganize. We really don¡¯t want that.¡± Donovan shrugged and signed the Contract. He was about to walk off when he turned around and said, ¡°I will do this, but you had better keep your side of the deal, PM all of you level ups to me.¡± The corner of Aya¡¯s lip twitched before she masked her expression, stood up straighter, snapped her heels together and saluted him with, ¡°Sir, yes Sir!¡± Donovan nodded and walked off. Aya shook her head, packed up her things and got to work¡­ Or at least she would have, if she hadn¡¯t received a sudden notification. Manipulation Successful! Your tree flourishes. Stage II: 100% The manic world is now open to you. A Manic Creature has Chosen You. Do You Wish to Accept? Yes | No After her conversation with the banker, she¡¯d muted all of the manipulation notifications. They were numerous during her various interchanges with the parties involved with her plan. She¡¯d been so focused on lining everything up that she completely forgot about the Manic Creature she had freed. She hadn¡¯t even considered being able to level her Inner Tree enough to actually accept the Creature on time. Senior Aizan had pretty much convince her that by the time she leveled her Inner Tree enough the creature would be long gone. She balled her fists in nervous excitement as she opted for [Yes]. Standing in the middle of the town square, with the hot sun beating down on her she waited for something amazing to happen. Something to notify her of the changes the special Manic Creature had brought. Some special ability that would give her an advantage over all the other players. Instead, nothing happened. Heaving a sigh of disappointment, she picked up her things and left the town square. Not being an experienced player, Aya didn¡¯t pay much attention to the blue bar on the top right of her field of vision. It was her Mana bar and she had yet to learn a skill that required it, so it wasn¡¯t surprising that when its maximum capacity more than tripled, it went completely unnoticed by her. Metropolis - Capsule Bay 286 - Unit 10 Sunday, May 10th, 2089 | 5:52pm [Status: In-Game] The rest of the day went by relatively uneventful. With the exception of the three minutes she took for her nutripack lunch, she spent it leveling. She roamed the regions around Durrenheim looking for mobs at or above her level. As she progressed from one level to the next, she noticed a definitive increase in her abilities. It felt like an accelerated version of working out. She¡¯d gone through workout phases in real life and the only difference in Era was that she could see the changes instantly. Aya even noticed a change in her scrawny frame. She remembered her own first impression of her body, just skin and bones; now there was definitive mass under the skin. It still wasn¡¯t visible or noticeable to anyone but her but it encouraged her to keep going. Throughout the day, she leveled her Scribe skill while she wrote Contracts, always checking the forums for new requests. She even set up an automatic alert so she could be the first one to accept commissions. By the end of the day she had leveled the skill three times and even paid off the next day¡¯s interest with the bank. She started setting the rest aside to pay back her loan. Aya didn¡¯t want to immediately jump into paying it back in case she needed the money in the future. So far, her plan was going perfectly. There had been minor adjustments throughout the day, as the bottlenecks revealed themselves, but after a day of fixing minor details, things were on track. So far, there hadn¡¯t been any return on investment. The Rockyno¡¯s were the next bottleneck and she hadn¡¯t yet figured out how to work laxatives on them. She would have to wait until the next day. By then, they would have the chance to recover the purified ore and maybe even have gathered enough blacksmiths to process it into the weapons she would be selling. Tomorrow would be a very telling day. Ackman had given her an estimate of three days to complete the construction of the shop. Although the selling of the weapons would not take place for a few more days and she would have no way of knowing for sure how successful it was going to be, one day should be enough for her to have a preliminary idea, at least enough to know if it was a lost cause. The mere thought of it all ending in failure gave her the chills, but she pushed the pessimistic thought aside and got back to work. Aya had made it from level six to level ten in the span of the day. Her limbs were shaking from the effort, but she still had a long way to go. She staked out another mob, getting ready to Bleed him dry. With bags of blood strapped to her back, it was about time to head back to the Layhens for another delivery. She¡¯d managed to convert all of them into vampiric beings, all for the sake of saving money. A small part of her conscience felt bad while the other part cheered at not letting a single penny go to waste. Paying for both food and water for such a large amount of birds was bound to take a toll, one she wasn¡¯t sure she could afford, at least not yet. And since she needed to kill mobs and level up anyway, she figured Bleed was the best way to do it. The skill allowed her to control the kill and untarget the beast before it died. It was a way to avoid getting the EXP for the killed mob. It was quite the useful trick, especially when she realized how much faster it was to get stat points in combat. Like Donovan had suggested, she focused her stat gain in speed, agility and strength. At one point during her leveling, she had come across a frog-like beast that walked on two feet and spit poisonous, sticky slimeballs at its opponents. It disabled them before they even got into range. Aya observed another player¡¯s attack, using the ¡®idle¡¯ time to activate her Scribe skill on another Contract. She watched the player attack the beast head-on, only to be glued to the ground the moment one of the slime balls landed below his shins. She cringed as the slime boiled on his skin, releasing colorful and malodorous gases. The player screamed and writhed in pain until he died not long after. Scrunching her nose against the smell, she watched as the frog-beast waddled back to his position. He seemed to be guarding something, and Aya wanted to know what it was. After seeing the player fight, she could honestly say she was a better fighter than him. Or at least a better strategist, as he had died before any real fighting happened. A frontal attack wasn¡¯t going to work on the frog, and she didn¡¯t want to pit her speed against the slime he launched out of his mouth. She chose to sneak up on the mob, not giving it the chance to target her before she was upon it. With great care, she managed to be successful on the first attempt. It took her a long time as she tried keeping an eye on the frog while scanning the ground ahead of her for footing and surfaces that would give her position away, specifically the dried twigs that were so common in the region. Later she realized the only reason she succeeded was because the frog never looked her way. Its focus was always ahead and as she crossed a dry and cracked river bed behind the beast, the reason occurred to her. Until a few weeks ago, there had probably still been water flowing in the banks, giving the frog a buffer between itself and any enemies that came its way. Taking the arguably unfair opportunity, Aya landed a perfect Bleed wound on the first try and backed off as quickly as she could. Before the frog realized what had hit it, it was slumped on the ground bleeding its life onto the cracked dirt below. All Aya had to do was wait. When the frog¡¯s dead eyes stared back at her, she found out that it had only been guarding a bunch of slimy eggs. Her motherly side was torn, leaving the eggs behind unattended like that, but she couldn¡¯t find an use for them, so she moved on to the next target. Had the approach not resulted in a new stat, it would have been a pointless death. Instead, the notification of the Stealth points gained brought a smile to her face. Aya knew her character would never be a warrior type, not with her small stature and spindly physique. Stealth, on the other hand, was exactly the type of thing she could excel in. From then on, she tried to sneak up on each and every one of her targets. Sometimes she succeeded and again managed to land a killing Bleed blow on the first shot, other times she failed miserably and spent the rest of the fight trying to recover her footing. Either way, her training progressed quite smoothly and she was very happy with the results. Another benefit of training without Donovan was the way it allowed her to keep the loot all to herself. By the end of the day, she¡¯d completely changed her wardrobe. The starter tunic was long gone, replaced by a shirt from a level fourteen goblin. Aya attacked a tribe after she reached level ten. She remembered how difficult it had seemed even with Donovan¡¯s help. But this time, using stealth to create fictional thefts, she created enough distraction for four of the eight-member tribe. With two other cleverly placed slowing mechanisms she made with the looted toad-slime, she was able to wipe out an entire goblin tribe all by herself. It took her almost half an hour, killing one or two at a time, but by the end she had shoes with a slight agility and stealth bonus, a shirt with slight defensive stats and a saber with better durability than her own. Aya made one last run at the Thorndillies of the region, but even before attacking them she knew it would be the last time she searched them out. The whole group was defeated in less than five minutes and only gave her a total of two speed stats. She¡¯d outgrown the enemy. She bled them out - even there the pickings were slim - and headed back to Nelson¡¯s farm. Halfway through feeding the LayHens, she got Goldilock¡¯s logout notification, finished the task and then logged out at the last minute. For the first time since she started playing the game she felt like she¡¯d actually progressed quite a bit. She couldn¡¯t wait to find out what her ranking was. At lunch it had remained unchanged, still ¡®Pending Review¡¯. Chris lined up against the wall, taking the eighth spot. She wasn¡¯t the only one that used every single game second she could. As soon as the line got going towards the cafeteria, she brought up her b-link menu, took a deep breath and checked her rank. 5662/5792: Pending Review The air exited her lungs in a shuddering stream. She didn¡¯t know how to react. Her rank had gone up by more than one hundred. She should be happy, but she¡¯d expected more. If her plan had only raised her rank by that much, she didn¡¯t know what four more normal game days could bring. She didn¡¯t see how she could come up with another scheme like she had, and if it wasn¡¯t enough to raise her rank by more than one hundred, she didn¡¯t see how she would become a player by the end of the trial week. She unconsciously flexed her fingers, trying to direct her hope in a different direction. Chris had pinned them all on the expectation of a massive jump because of the plan, but apparently, that wasn¡¯t going to happen. She realized it didn¡¯t matter how much money she could make if the formula being used to calculate her rank didn¡¯t understand the plan. Her hope now rested on two words, ¡°Pending Review.¡± Bending her neck one way and then the other as she walked, she tried to stretch the anxiety out of her muscles. There was nothing she could do at the moment, she could only hope that the review was ¡®pended¡¯ on a weekday. Perhaps the guard or warden or whoever was in charge of reviewing things had a five-day work week. She could hope. Chris set the worry aside and focused on the things she could do then and there. Eat, train, shower, read and sleep, but first, walk. By the time Chris made it to the cafeteria for dinner she was, if not physically, then at least mentally exhausted. Her legs felt like they were anchored in lead. Every movement took effort she wasn¡¯t sure she had. It was a strange feeling to have in a body she knew hadn¡¯t moved an inch all day. Just the thought of the exercise she would be doing with Tiny had her cringing. She sighed, finally understanding why the woman was so insistent on the routine. If one hard day in Era was followed by another and another just like it, she could see how a person¡¯s body would deteriorate. She looked up around the cafeteria, evaluating the other women¡¯s faces for the first time. Many eyes were sunken in with exhaustion mirroring her own. The conversations she¡¯d always heard but never paid attention to had a strained tone to them. Era was taking a toll on everyone. As Chris ruminated on this new realization, she walked up to the meal dispenser. The realization hit her like a brick to the face. Goldilocks was conditioning and even fueling them to do its bidding. The personalized nutrient meals and their personalized b-links. They were being farmed. She felt like she¡¯d been stuck into a matrix reality. ¡°Be careful of that one Dearie,¡± Doris¡¯ voice suddenly broke into her thoughts. ¡°She¡¯s not what she seems.¡± Chris turned around, looking for the woman, wanting to ask who she meant, but the moment she located her she was already down the cafeteria with a dozen women between them. She pursed her lips, and came to the conclusion that the older woman could only mean Yaz. There was no one else they had been together with. She kept mulling over the meaning of the woman¡¯s words as she sat down and tried to eat her food inconspicuously. She shoveled it down as fast as she could and was out of the cafeteria in the time it took for ten women to go through a food dispenser. Her thoughts were in turmoil, which was apparently their new normal. She had to worry about the game, her ranking in Goldilocks, keeping appearances in front of inmates, her lawyer, her sister, the warden and now to top it all off, she had to worry about mysterious warnings from Doris? The old woman usually told her things straight out, so it worried her a little that she¡¯d been so secretive in her warning. What did it mean? Was Yaz really that dangerous, that even Doris took special precautions not to be found out? She sighed, knowing the answer wasn¡¯t going to show itself, at least not that night. Chris unlocked her door with her b-link, walked in and saw Tiny getting ready for her daily exercise. Banishing all thoughts and worries, she got her mat out and filled her mind with the effort of keeping up. Two warm-up positions in, she saw it was going to be as impossible as the previous workouts had been. Soon, her real body was just as exhausted as her mind and she headed off for a shower. The water warmed her spent muscles and relaxed her. Her b-link reminded she had a meeting with Suerte in the morning. She was torn between dread and excitement. Until the trial week was over, he was the only one with information on Rin, but at the same time she wasn¡¯t sure what he would say or do about her progress in Era. Chapter 35 Metropolis - Visitation Quarter 4 Monday, May 11th, 2089 | 10:03am ¡°Good morning, Chris,¡± Castiel Suerte said in his butter-smooth voice. ¡°How are you?¡± Chris had tried to prepare herself on her walk over from the Capsule Bays, but she was unprepared to deal with the kindness that twinkled in the man¡¯s eyes. If she hadn¡¯t known any better, she would have sworn the immaculately-dressed lawyer in front of her, who¡¯d pretty much blackmailed her into prison, actually cared. But she did know better. She nodded curtly as the guard who¡¯d brought her left. There was another guard she didn¡¯t recognize by Suerte¡¯s side. The older woman stood by a door that led into a small room. A little plaque was attached to the wall beside the door, reading, ¡®Visitation Quarter 4¡¯. Chris guessed that, like other doorways in the prison, the small, green light below it would turn red when she crossed the threshold wearing her b-link. ¡°Fine, you?¡± she replied and asked perfunctorily, walking by him into the small room. As she¡¯d guessed, the light blinked red with her passage and she gained a complete view of the room. It was even smaller than it looked from the outside, with just enough space for a square metal table accompanied by four simple metal chairs. Suerte walked in after her but didn¡¯t immediately answer, his silence making Chris look up en route to the chair. The man¡¯s perfect lips were pursed in something akin to disappointment, but the moment he noticed Chris¡¯ gaze, he smiled a Colgate smile and gestured, encouraging her to continue. She opened her mouth to say something, but not knowing what to say, how she had disappointed him or why she should even care, she clamped it back shut and sat down silently. The small visitation room they were in was reserved specifically for inmates and their lawyers. Unlike regular family and friend visitation rooms, these had no audio surveillance. The round device attached to the middle of the ceiling suggested the same courtesy was not extended to visual surveillance. Chris pulled nervously at the b-link on her wrist. She¡¯d pulled up the information on visitations the night before but all she could think of was how the small device It monitored heart rate, skin moisture, temperature, hormones and all other body functions. Even if there was no camera, she was constantly being watched. As Suerte settled in, pulling his usual organized pile of folders from his bag, she thought about the surveillance aspect of the band for the first time. She¡¯d known they were keeping tabs on her since she arrived, but only now did she think of just how much the bands¡¯ monitoring could give away if analyzed closely. It made her wonder if the one of the reasons they were so useful was so the inmates wouldn¡¯t try to sabotage them. Without all the perks they offered, she was sure people would be trying to tear them off left and right. Yet, in the four days she¡¯d been there, she hadn¡¯t heard a single word of discontent directed at the bands. In fact, they were relied on for everything. Doors, showers, meals, commissary, Era, everything was tied to the band. Without it, Goldilocks gave you nothing. Leaning her crossed forearms against the cool surface of the metal table, Chris¡¯ fingers tapped an unconscious pattern while her mind busied itself. She was thinking about the nefarious possibilities of the b-link when Suerte¡¯s silky baritone broke into her thoughts. ¡°How was your weekend?¡± Suddenly reminded of the man¡¯s presence, her eyes focused back on him and her mind focused on the conversation that was to come. The curve of his mouth hinted at polite friendliness but she wasn¡¯t sure how he¡¯d react to her progress in Era. Chris swallowed, mouth dry with apprehension. She¡¯d been careful that morning and was able to navigate breakfast without interruption. It had given her two and a half sorely needed extra hours in Era. Although she¡¯d only managed to do basic maintenance on the production line as well as a few new player hires before getting back to the process of leveling, she¡¯d come to learn just how much every minute counts. She¡¯d been tempted to rush through, focusing on EXP instead of stats, wanting to have more numbers to show by the time Suerte showed up, but her mental Donovan had kept her in check. But now, looking at Suerte sitting across the table, she was starting to second-guess her decision to listen to her internal Donovan. Suerte¡¯s face gave no negative emotion away, but there was something about his attitude that just wasn¡¯t sitting right with her. The stack of neatly piled folders sat in front of him, as threatening as any weapon. Chris sat straighter, her back pushed up against the chair. She¡¯d been up past her intended bedtime trying to come up with arguments to use in the defense of her poor ranking. It seemed hopeless and after coming across the strict privacy policies put in place by Nova Industries, she¡¯d even considered just lying to the man. Was it cowardly and treacherous? Definitely. Eventually, she had talked herself out of it, deciding to pursue complete honesty, but as she sat across from the perfect lawyer and his plastered-on smile, self-doubt niggled at her again. Chris swallowed one more time, trying to work some moisture into her mouth before she finally answered the question. ¡°Quite¡­ uh,¡± she began, still uncertain of what she was going to say. ¡°Well,¡± she finally amended. ¡°It went.¡± Suerte gave one slow nod above his perfectly steepled fingers before he opened the topmost folder in a simple movement, which somehow felt like he was aiming a gun at her. She felt completely outmatched every time she was in the room with him. But then again, the same was true with pretty much every person she¡¯d met recently. It was as if the life she had before prison - where she understood society - had never even existed. In her new reality, even prepubescent teenagers were hierarchically above her. Suerte leafed one page over and commented casually, ¡°So I see.¡± Chris¡¯ palms started sweating and she wondered just how much the man already knew of her standing. From what she had read on Era privacy laws, he shouldn¡¯t have much. And seeing as he¡¯d hired her to infiltrate the prison, he couldn¡¯t have that many sources¡­ Oh, but Tiny. Chris sighed, realizing the woman had probably given everything Chris had told her ¡®in confidence¡¯ away. ¡°Yes,¡± she said carefully. ¡°It¡¯s been an¡­ adjustment process. But I¡¯m getting the hang of it.¡± Suerte flipped over another piece of paper before he looked at her again. ¡°You call 5662th, ¡®getting the hang of it¡¯?¡± Chris bit her lip to hide a frown as she processed his words. She¡¯d never told Tiny about her ranking so the woman couldn¡¯t be his only source, but since she hadn¡¯t told anyone about her ranking, she had no idea who that source could be. It must be someone from pretty high up to have such precise information. One of the guards? Or maybe one of psychologists? Instead of replying, Chris just made a mental note to keep an eye out. She¡¯d been so focused on her ranking that she¡¯d forgotten to watch out for the presence of Suerte¡¯s spies. In four days she¡¯d only discovered Tiny and the woman had outed herself. She pretty much sucked as a spy and Chris wondered why Suerte and his organization had chosen her to begin with. Before going to Goldilocks or Era she¡¯d considered herself quite competent, especially when compared to the general population, but the more she saw of her new life, the more she realized she was not cut out for it. Chris just put her head down, an exact representation of how she felt in that moment. The man¡¯s tone had never changed, but seeing her reaction, he now sighed, making Chris look up. Looking into his eyes for a clue, she still had no way of knowing what the sigh was for. Annoyance at her incompetence? Irritation at himself for having chosen her in the first place? The loss of resources invested into her? It could be a number of things, but none of them were reflected in his eyes. Instead, she felt like he was hoping he¡¯d encountered resistance and all that she¡¯d given was¡­ Chris clenched her teeth together and realized what was going on. She steeled her spine and sat straighter. Cowering wasn¡¯t something she¡¯d ever done. The world had dealt her impossible cards before and she¡¯d survived; she could and would do it again. Clearing her throat, she searched for a voice devoid of fear. The same voice that had been forced upon her after the death of her parents. She shrugged, ¡°Yeah, it didn¡¯t start out good,¡± she said. ¡°But I¡¯ve started to make up lost ground.¡± He considered her in silence for a moment before he replied. ¡°Yesterday evening, I was getting ready to terminate our agreement,¡± he said, voice nearly as flat as Donovan¡¯s. ¡°Luckily, it turns out your sister¡¯s school has not started yet. It doesn¡¯t happen often, but there is such a thing as a sunk cost and my employer was beginning to think you were not going to pan out. It¡¯s a good thing your marginal rank-increase was good enough to buy you, and your sister¡­¡± Chris maintained steady eye-contact, even forcing herself not to blink. She couldn¡¯t let him know how much the words affected her, but going from the satisfied expression he made after studying her, she doubted she was as successful as she¡¯d hoped. He smiled ¡®kindly¡¯ at her, ¡°¡­ a few more days,¡± he concluded. Keeping her balled fists from sight under the table, she remained silent. If prison had taught her anything, it was to keep her mouth shut and she did just that. Unless the man asked her an outright question, she wasn¡¯t going to say anything. As if having heard her resolution, he asked, ¡°What level are you now?¡±This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Chris gave a slight pause. After what he¡¯d said, she figured Suerte was already aware of everything that had happened in Era. But as she looked at him now, she realized that all he¡¯d known was her Goldilocks rank. It was possible he didn¡¯t have any source on her in Era. Her eyes dropped to the folders below him. Or, she corrected herself, no source yet. She didn¡¯t want to outright lie to him, as it would be bad if he caught her in a lie, but¡­ ¡°Eleven,¡± she answered before her slight pause became too long. Chris watched him for a reaction, but there was none. He simply nodded, looked down at the sheet in front of him, flipped it over, closed the topmost folder and put it aside. She had no idea what the gesture meant. She hadn¡¯t outright lied to him; she¡¯d only just leveled up to twelve. If he questioned her, she would be able to talk her way out of it¡­ Alright, it was an outright lie. But it ended up being a failed attempt at uncovering the extent of his knowledge on her anyway. Suerte opened the second folder and studied the contents of the first page before looking back at her. ¡°That¡¯s a shame,¡± he said. ¡°Levels aren¡¯t everything for the ranks. We¡¯ve seen that over time, but they still play an important part.¡± He gave her a regretful look, ¡°The general minimal guideline is level seven by day one, level twelve,¡± there was a slight pause that she wasn¡¯t sure she¡¯d imagined, ¡°by day two, level fifteen by day three, level seventeen by day four and level eighteen by day five¡­¡± She was six levels short. ¡°You are seven levels short at the moment,¡± he said, breaking into her thoughts. ¡°That is¡­ if you don¡¯t manage to get at least one more level by tonight.¡± Chris nodded curtly. She almost changed her statement, but at this point the lie was too far gone to retract. Leaning back a bit, she lifted her legs enough to put her hands, palm down, beneath them before settling them down again. She had to be imagining the pauses, prolonging them with her own mind¡­ she just had to be. What she needed to do was keep her mouth shut and plead ignorance and forgetfulness if the issue arose. Suerte was right about sunk costs but in this case, the price of exiting was more than she could afford, she¡¯d have to deal with the sunk cost for a while longer and hope that it turned around in the end after all. The immaculate lawyer flipped over another page before he steepled his perfectly manicured fingers once more and said, ¡°Look. I know it¡¯s hard to believe, but I am rooting for you on this one,¡± his eyes flickered to the camera above them for a millisecond before he continued. ¡°I¡¯m not going to lie to you...¡± Was he trying to insinuate something? She forced her leg to keep still. It wanted to bounce up and down, and give her away. ¡°My employer wants to cut you,¡± Suerte said, not even noticing her apprehension. ¡°I may have bought you a couple extra days but you have absolutely no margin for error.¡± Chris pursed her lips, feeling inadequate and guilty, especially with the man posing as Mr. Nice-Guy. He eyed her expectantly, and when the pause had grown long enough for her to realize he expected some sort of response out of her, she bobbed her head. Her lawyer sighed and Chris pursed her lips. One moment, he was threatening Rin and her and the next, he pretended he was on her side. It was like he was trying to play good cop and bad cop at the same time. She wanted to tell him that it didn¡¯t work like that but part of her, a big part of her, wanted to desperately cling to that kindness. Chris hated herself in that moment. She¡¯d never thought of herself as weak, yet here she was, not even a week into the game and seeking support from the worst possible source. ¡°To succeed in Era,¡± Suerte said, unaware of the internal tug-of-war he had caused, ¡°you need a plan.¡± The man once again directed those piercingly beautiful green eyes, full of expectation, in her direction. Chris tried to tell herself that his looks had nothing to do with it. That even if he¡¯d been an ugly and repellent lawyer, that the situation would have ended the same. Even if she couldn¡¯t trust him in the long-run, their immediate goals were the same. He needed another player in Era and she needed¡­ Well, she needed a lot of things. She needed to be a player, take care her sister, level up, get out of prison¡­ And it all depended on her performance in the game. She took a deep breath and decided. Releasing a shuddering breath, she knew she couldn¡¯t trust anyone in her new life, especially not the man across from her who had gotten her into the situation in the first place. But as it stood, in that particular moment, he was the only who was on her side. He actually had a vested interest in her success and it would be stupid not to take advantage of it as much as she could. He¡¯d gotten her into the situation but she could also use him to get her out of it. She didn¡¯t need to trust him to use him. ¡°I have one,¡± she said with a nod of finality, putting the debate of trust behind her. Suerte¡¯s reaction to her words was almost nonexistent but something like intrigue flashed across his eyes for a fraction of a moment. He cocked his head to the side, encouraging her to continue. Chris bit her lip, trying to decide how much she should tell him. So far, she hadn¡¯t told anyone about the plan that she had come up with. She¡¯d even been too scared to write it down anywhere, especially in the b-link, lest it fall into the wrong hands. As she went through and organized everything in her mind, she decided she could tell him everything. Fortunately or unfortunately, she hadn¡¯t gotten around to the part where she got herself out of prison. If the warden really was selling freedom¡­ Well, that was a thought for another day. For now, she just needed to focus on even staying in the game. She started at the beginning. She told Suerte about Donovan and his leveling philosophy. The lawyer¡¯s reaction was a mix of astonishment and skepticism. He said it wouldn¡¯t get her in the top ranks in the short term and she countered with the fact that ten years in prison was way past the long term. The statement at least shut him up long enough for her to give a summary of her avatar choices, skills and how she was using them to create funds for her grand plan. She debated skipping over her Era prison time entirely, but decided against it. If she could show Suerte that she had come as far as she had with three effective game days, it might mitigate the extent of her failure. After the words left her mouth, and she saw the expression that followed, she knew that it hadn¡¯t. Sighing, she started outlining the production line she was using to take over Serving Time¡¯s monopoly in Durrenheim. Chris might have imagined it but she thought the man sat up a little straighter when she started talking about Serving Time. By the end of the story, she knew she¡¯d scored some points with the man, but it wasn¡¯t until he questioned her that she realized where. ¡°So¡­¡± he said, after she was finished. ¡°You¡¯re using a modern business strategy in a VRMMO that takes place in a medieval setting?¡± Chris folded her arms before her, considered his words and nodded. When he said it that way it sounded pretty stupid. ¡°So¡­¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re using economies of scale to fight dragons and demons?¡± ¡°Yeah, I am,¡± she said, annoyed at his belittling. She looked down, trying to hide the rage in her eyes. Chris was regretting having told him anything at all when she heard a slow clap. It echoed loudly in the small room and she looked up to find the lawyer grinning gleefully at her. ¡°And here I thought I¡¯d misjudged you¡­¡± he said. ¡°Looks like you were the right one for the job, after all.¡± She frowned in confusion. ¡°Wh¡ª¡± she began. ¡°I like it,¡± he said, cutting her off. ¡°This means that Serving Time¡¯s business will be yours in three days, right? That should definitely be enough to get you through the low ranks¡­ even if you are pursuing this grindy leveling-strategy of yours¡­¡± he gave her a look full of doubt. ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re doing the right thing with that? I¡¯m not sure it¡¯s going to pay off like you intend it to¡­ I haven¡¯t heard of anyone but career gamers that¡ª¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t that what I am supposed to be, though?¡± she asked, cutting him off in turn. He paused, then snorted and said with a shrug, ¡°I guess it is, isn¡¯t it?¡± Chris nodded and he continued with his praise of her plan. She hadn¡¯t expected him to show such support. At first, she just felt relief, but the more he endorsed the plan, the more she felt pressured to succeed. So far, she had been mostly been operating on the hypothetical plan; only from today onward was she really going to see if things were going to pan out. If they didn¡¯t, she¡¯d have a lot more debt issues than even Nelson had left her. She sighed, caught in worry. ¡°Chris?¡± Suerte asked, reminding her she wasn¡¯t alone with her thoughts. ¡°Err. Yeah?¡± she asked uncertainly, not knowing how many times he¡¯d already said her name. ¡°How did you get the Scribe skill so fast?¡± he said, leafing through some more folders. ¡°I have it on good authority that it isn¡¯t an easy skill to attain, but especially not easy to level.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± Chris replied. ¡°Well I dunno I guess. I just sorta¡­ drew stuff and got it.¡± ¡°Drew?¡± ¡°Yeah¡­¡± she said, suddenly careful of the words she used. ¡°I used to do some¡­ sketching when I was younger.¡± Chris bit her lip as she thought of what she¡¯d actually used her art for. ¡°For school, you know,¡± she added, but then immediately regretted it. She¡¯d just accomplished in making something completely innocuous look suspicious. Suerte eyed her with a quirked eyebrow. His display of amused suspicion reassured her. It meant he didn¡¯t actually think she was trying to hide anything worthwhile. She sighed. ¡°Here,¡± she said, motioning toward his stack of papers. ¡°Give me a pen and a page and I¡¯ll show you what I mean.¡± Chris knew she was pretty good at drawing, but she wasn¡¯t looking for praise; she just wanted to get his attention off of her blunder. But as she gripped the pencil he gave her, she chose to use the opportunity to impress him anyway. She needed to make herself into an indispensable asset, and if she could use art to do it, all the better. Settling the page in front of her, she tried to decide on the subject of her sketch. She looked up at the Adonis of a man in front of her and knew that getting him down on paper wasn¡¯t going to be very impressive; his features were too perfect. What she needed was someone with difficult traits to capture, but someone he would recognize. Only one person came to mind: Tiny. Luckily, she fit both criteria. She took her time, trying to get the likeness just right. But even then, less than ten minutes later, she was pushing the drawing back toward her lawyer. Chris was quite proud of it; she knew she¡¯d captured the ¡®essence¡¯ of her roommate and there was absolutely no way he wasn¡¯t going to recognize her. She tried to hide her smile, waiting for Suerte to come up with his own verdict. The words that came out were words of praise, but they weren¡¯t at all what she was expecting. ¡°Interesting,¡± he said, tapping his fingers against his sculpted chin. Chris eyed him, but he didn¡¯t look very interested at all. If the wrinkles on his forehead were anything to go by, the man just looked plain confused. ¡°Wha¡ª¡± she began, only to be cut off. ¡°Oh!¡± he said, expression immediately clearing. ¡°I remember now where I¡¯ve seen her face. This is your roommate, right?¡± Suerte picked up one of the middle folders, took out a piece of paper and set it next to her drawing. ¡°Arizona Wells,¡± he said, looking between the drawings. ¡°Very interesting,¡± he repeated. ¡°I understand now why I didn¡¯t immediately recognize her.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Chris said. ¡°There is so much more life in your drawing than this mugshot here,¡± he said gesturing at Tiny¡¯s portrait. ¡°I can almost tell what kind of person she is just by the way you drew her, the lines and the shading all indi...¡± Suerte¡¯s voice continued to drone on in the background, but all Chris could think about was her roommate. Doris¡¯ words came back to haunt her, ¡®She¡¯s not what seems.¡¯ Chapter 36 Metropolis - Goldilocks Monday, May 11th, 2089 | 11:08am Chris felt like a marionette being walked down the hall. She was so numb, her mind wasn¡¯t even able to process the final end of her conversation with Suerte. She vaguely remembered speaking about prison politics and the groups to watch out for, but her mind had been too preoccupied with the revelation of Tiny¡¯s deception to focus properly. She hadn¡¯t wanted to believe it, so she¡¯d clung to the hope of a misunderstanding to the bitter end. But after three more portraits, one of Suerte, one of Yaz and one of Doris¡­ she knew for sure she¡¯d been duped. Caught in the middle of a panic attack waiting to happen, she was too dazed to notice when the guard led her back to a capsule and before she knew it, she was back in the game. Standing once more in the familiar, arid surroundings of Durrenheim, Aya weighed her options. She could despair over the fact that life had just proven to her that there was absolutely no one in her corner, or she could get it together and work. She must have been standing motionless for a while because Henry made the decision for her when he pecked her quite painfully in the shin. ¡°What the¡ª OUCH!¡± she screamed. She glared at Henry, but after a moment¡¯s hesitation, she simply ignored him and really let out a scream. ¡°AAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!¡± By the time she ran out of breath, she was panting hard, but when she recovered, she felt like the weight of the revelation had been lifted off of her. Leaning forward, hands on her thighs, Aya sighed. She needed to get her head back in the game. There was nothing she could do about Tiny right then and there and she¡¯d have to wait until that night to act. Shaking her head, Aya gathered her things and got back to work. Throughout the day, her thoughts kept returning to Tiny, but the more she thought about it, the less she knew what to do about it. She had no idea who Tiny was with or what her motivation was. Her cellmate could be associated with the Warden, but Aya didn¡¯t think that was the case. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she thought that the behind-the-scenes role that Suerte had roped her into was actually only a distraction from what was going on behind that. She couldn¡¯t help feeling like there was a bigger war going on, a war that made even the Warden its pawn. When Aya almost lost an eye to a Spinethift, she realized she was letting her worries become a distraction. Over the course of the morning and part of the early afternoon, she was able to level up to twelve, finally catching up to what she¡¯d claimed to have achieved. Following the same routine of solo-hunting, she managed to plateau before reaching level thirteen. No matter what she tried, she couldn¡¯t seem to gain any more stat points. Running harder, hitting harder, dodging faster, climbing higher, sneaking more quietly¡­ everything just wasn¡¯t enough to get her the stats she wanted. She kept trying for a while, but eventually she realized she was beating a dead horse. If she wanted to get new results, she was going to have to try new methods. Gathering her things, Aya decided it was a time to take a break from leveling and check on the business. She¡¯d kept an eye on it through PMs and chats, but she hadn¡¯t been back to Durrenheim to check on the blacksmiths since the day before. Approaching the town, she found the same traveling merchant she¡¯d been using all day. His name was Fiddles and although his prices weren¡¯t quite as favorable as actual market prices, selling to him meant that she didn¡¯t have to go into town herself and waste her precious time haggling over different wares to different vendors. Unfortunately, it also meant that her Contract points hadn¡¯t grown much in the previous day either, but seeing as she¡¯d gained quite a few the day before with the various deals she¡¯d made, she didn¡¯t feel too bad about it. In addition, she knew that she couldn¡¯t spread herself too thin, not when the real goal was raising her level. Having a massive number of Contract points wasn¡¯t going to help her do that, so she could focus on it when she actually needed some. And seeing as she knew how to write her own Contracts now, she didn¡¯t think she¡¯d be calling on her useless Gatekeeper any time soon. Lost in thought, Aya didn¡¯t even notice when the guards stationed outside of the city gates simultaneously lowered their spears to block her path. Caught off guard, she jumped back and crouched down into her attack stance. She took a moment to take in what was happening and forced herself to relax. Her body had moved on its own, a testament to how hard she¡¯d been working. She straightened her posture and took in the two guards. They had the same hate-filled glare that had been directed at her since the moment she was imprisoned. The guards seemed to be more affected by her negative reputation with Durrenheim than the residents. She sighed under her breath, not wanting to give the guards any more reason to hold her in contempt. ¡°Sorry,¡± she said in a polite tone. ¡°Is something wrong?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± the guard on the right said. ¡°As one of Durrenheim¡¯s official enemies, you are no longer allowed to set foot into Durrenheim.¡± ¡°Wha¡ª!? Enemies?¡± Aya asked, confused. ¡°I¡¯m not an enemy¡­ you guys have seen me walk in and out many times. I mean, I was just here yesterday¡­ I remember seeing y¡ª¡± ¡°Hmph,¡± the other scoffed. ¡°That was then and this is now. You were just within acceptable range, but we knew that you¡¯d eventually slip up. And that you did,¡± he said with a feral grin on his face. Not knowing what he could mean, Aya brought up her Durrenheim reputation points. [-5008] Her eyes widened. The last time she¡¯d looked at them, they¡¯d been -5000. Confused she scrolled through the notifications until she found the reason for her reduced reputation. [Known Black-Market Interaction.] ¡°Wha¡ª?!¡± The left guard chuckled malevolently before adding, ¡°That¡¯s what you get for being a traitor of the empire.¡± ¡°A¡­ but what did I do?!¡± ¡°Oh, don¡¯t play coy,¡± the right guard said. ¡°You know exactly what you did.¡± He stared at a point behind her. Confused, Aya turned around to find what he was looking at. The only thing in direct line of sight was Fiddler¡¯s stand. The vendor stood there, obliviously peddling his wares to another player. Aya frowned until it finally dawned on her what the guard meant. ¡°Wait,¡± she said, needing to make sure. ¡°You mean Fiddler is the black market?¡± The guard sneered at her, giving her a glare that said more than words could. He thought she was lying but before she could defend herself, the same player that had just been at Fiddler¡¯s stand walked by her and the guards and into Durrenheim. Aya¡¯s mouth fell open at the blatant act of discrimination. ¡°But he just¡ª¡± ¡°And?¡± the guard asked, completely unfazed. ¡°He¡¯s not a treacherous thief.¡± Aya wanted to say more but both guards were staring ahead, intent on ignoring anything she said. She tried getting their attention for another minute before she tried walking in again. This time, their refusal to let her in was also accompanied by a ten point reputation drop. Aya sighed and decided to give up for the time being. She brought up the forums on city reputations and found what she was looking for almost immediately. All cities had a particular threshold that allowed people in and out. Some cities wouldn¡¯t let you in if your reputation was below -100 and others below -500. Durrenheim¡¯s threshold was obviously set at -5000 or she wouldn¡¯t have been able to come and go as she wanted the day before. Had she known, she would have been more careful. But as it stood, she¡¯d have to find a way to better her reputation without actually setting foot into the city. She sighed, knowing she¡¯d just added another thing to the already massive list of tasks she had ahead of her. Still needing a break from the leveling process, she walked over to the city wall and sat down, her back against it. [Durrenheim Reputation: -5. Disrespect of Public Property.] Aya cringed and looked over at the guards¡¯ direction. Their hate-filled eyes glanced away the second her eyes fell on them. Biting her lip, she stopped herself from yelling in frustration and walked away from the city boundaries. She found a boulder about fifty yards out and took a seat. It let her observe the guards, the city gates, Fiddlers¡¯ stand and all the players that were walking in and out of Durrenheim. She took ten minutes to check in with all the people that were working for her at that moment. She wished she could check in with the blacksmiths in person but at least with the Contract she knew that they couldn¡¯t be cheating her, at least, not by a lot. They reported that the first weapons and metal items were being completed. Unfortunately, Ackman still needed another day to finish the shop. Aya¡¯s eyes veered toward Fiddles at the thought. Her own shop wouldn¡¯t be working for another day, but perhaps they could have a test run with the traveling merchant. She mulled the thought over some more as she finished making inquiries with all the participants of the plan. The haulers had just delivered their second haul of purified metal. Aya grinned at the blacksmiths¡¯ reactions. None of them could believe how pure the metal was when it arrived and, other than Xavier, she doubted any of them even knew how she was doing it. All of them were excited at the prices they¡¯d be able to charge for such prime product but Aya kept reminding them that they wouldn¡¯t be able to overcharge, at least not like Serving Time did. She was still waiting on Donovan¡¯s report but the kid wasn¡¯t answering her when she PM¡¯d him. The only reply she¡¯d gotten from him so far was ¡°I will let you know when I am finished.¡± That had been almost a whole day ago. Aya couldn¡¯t help worrying about the kid even when she knew he could take better care of himself than she could. Deciding not to worry about things beyond her control, Aya got up, dusted off her clothes and went to pay Fiddles another visit. The man drove a hard bargain, wanting 25% of all profits just for placing the goods. Eventually she pushed him down to 10% with the caveat that he could sell at whatever price he wished as long as he paid her upfront. It went a little against what she¡¯d been telling the blacksmiths herself, but at least this way she¡¯d be able to see what players were willing to pay for the goods without sullying her own name. If she started selling goods at one price but then suddenly upped it, it wouldn¡¯t look good for her brand. The travelling merchant on the other hand, didn¡¯t have to worry about his reputation since he would be traveling on soon anyway. It was actually a perfect trial run and she couldn¡¯t believe she hadn¡¯t thought of it herself. Unfortunately, the fifteen minutes of negotiation also resulted in her losing another twenty reputation points with the city. She sighed, knowing the guards were punishing her for no good reason.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. She looked up the city reputation guidelines and although there was a chance for the ¡®black market¡¯ to affect your reputation, the chances were very slim. Usually, the unbiased AI would dock a point once every ten times, but here she was getting points docked left and right in massive proportions. It was like the poverty cycle, but instead of poverty she was dealing with bad reputation. She sighed and glared at the city gates, just in time to see a group of players walking out. It wasn¡¯t uncommon to see groups of players, but for some reason, they caught her eye. All of them seemed to be warrior-type players, a very unbalanced team. She¡¯d gotten so used to seeing mixed types of players that she¡¯d subconsciously registered what a balanced team looked like. This team was missing a ranged player, a scout and a healer¡­ in fact, they were missing everything but the tank and that, they had too many of. She pursed her lips in consideration. Aya would probably fit into the scout category, though her type could eventually become a ranged character if she wanted it to as well. Unfortunately, she didn¡¯t have any good ranged attacks yet. It was definitely something she should work on, probably the next thing she should work on. Her character would never have the strength to compete with the warriors of the group¡­ Aya froze in place as she considered the situation. She was about to go back to leveling, having done as much as she could on her own but¡­ Perhaps that wasn¡¯t the best solution. Slowly, she approached the group, trying to hear their conversation before she decided whether or not she should pursue the idea that had seeped into her mind. She stayed just close enough so that she could hear the conversation, then directed all of her attention toward Henry and talked to him in a very low soothing tone about nothing at all in case any of the players noticed her. ¡°¡­ when he comes back,¡± she heard the tallest of them say. He was a large blue ogre and he had a massive spiked mace over his shoulder. The weapon was crude in make, a testament to his still-low level, but she wasn¡¯t about to get on the guy¡¯s bad side for fun. Aya took a step back, listening for the response in the group. ¡°Well, we can¡¯t just wait around,¡± one of the two human warriors said. ¡°Let¡¯s just go do some dungeon hunting.¡± ¡°Dude, none of us have any ranged attacks whatsoever.¡± ¡°Come on, it¡¯ll be fun. Or are you scared?¡± A bout of ribbing ensued. It was obvious that the group of three had been friends for quite some time, and going by their joking manner she guessed them to be around Rin¡¯s age. Aya¡¯s heart tightened in her chest, but she approached them anyway. ¡°Hey¡­¡± she started and realized, with sudden awkwardness, she didn¡¯t really know how to approach them. They all turned to look at her. As usual, the first thing they noticed was the convict symbol hovering above their head, but she didn¡¯t let it discourage her. ¡°So, I couldn¡¯t help but overhear¡­¡± She stumbled on her words when she realized just how creepy she sounded. It was looking harder and harder to recover from the situation and their leery expressions weren¡¯t very encouraging. Aya coughed to clear her throat and then said, ¡°You guys need a scout and I need a party¡­¡± The combined reaction was a frown of distrust. ¡°Before you guys turn me away,¡± she said, quickly taking out one of her Contracts. ¡°We can sign a Contract so you know I¡¯m not trying to pull one over on you¡­ All I want is to train.¡± They looked at each other, clearly communicating something she wasn¡¯t aware of. ¡°And what makes you think we want to have anything to do with you?¡± the female human warrior asked. ¡°Nothing, but¡­¡± Aya said. ¡°You guys want to level and with this Contract I promise I won¡¯t be taking any EXP from you guys. All I want is a part of the loot.¡± Some eyebrows rose in surprise, but skepticism was still the main emotion emanating from the group. ¡°There will be 4 of us right?¡± Aya said and when they nodded in response, she added, ¡°In that case I¡¯ll want a fair 20% of the loot.¡± Aya watched as the temptation for the obvious underbid grew among the group. She directed her attention towards Henry, pretending to have a conversation about some inane subject, giving them time to discuss her proposition. It wasn¡¯t hard to pretend to talk to the bird, unfortunately. She¡¯d gotten more and more into the habit of doing so. She sighed, wondering if the reason she approached the group wasn¡¯t just because she needed some human interaction. ¡°Alright,¡± the female warrior said. ¡°We¡¯ll do it¡­ after a trial run. We just want to make sure you¡¯re not¡ª¡± ¡°Taking advantage,¡± Aya finished, nodding. ¡°I know, I know.¡± She took out the Contract, and they all signed it after agreeing on the exact terms. Aya could tell from their gleeful expressions how stupid they thought she was. What they didn¡¯t realize was how much easier they had just made her life. She¡¯d always had to be so careful not to accidentally kill a beast in order not to get the EXP, and yet it was still sometimes unavoidable. She smiled, happy she¡¯d be able to focus on simply gaining stats. ¡°So what level are you?¡± the orc warrior asked. ¡°Thirteen,¡± she answered, already anticipating their reaction. ¡°What!?¡± the female warrior screeched. ¡°But we¡¯re¡ª¡± ¡°Around level fifteen right?¡± Aya asked. ¡°Wh¡ª How did you? Oh¡­¡± the female warrior said. ¡°This isn¡¯t your first avatar, I get it. Gosh, you had me scared there for a second¡­¡± ¡°No,¡± Aya said shrugging. ¡°This is my first and only avatar.¡± ¡°But then, how did you know our levels?¡± ¡°By your outfits,¡± Aya answered simply. She¡¯d been observing other players in all the hunting locations she¡¯d been over the last couple of days. By now, she knew exactly how strong the mobs of each area were and what kind of drops they gave. Going by the rudimentary mace the blue ogre was holding, she knew they¡¯d beaten the main goblin tribe. It was quite an impressive feat, one she knew she wouldn¡¯t be able to achieve on her own, at least not yet. The female warrior looked down at her outfit in confusion. Aya smiled, knowing that the girl¡¯s low-grade chain mail wasn¡¯t giving anything away. ¡°I mean your orc buddy,¡± Aya clarified in amusement. ¡°That mace is from the level eighteen goblin chieftain isn¡¯t it?¡± The girl¡¯s mouth fell open in surprise and before she could ask anything else Aya added, ¡°I said I¡¯m a scout, remember?¡± The girl¡¯s mouth closed and she nodded. Aya could tell she was still skeptical, but at least the Contract guaranteed her a trial run before they could kick her out. The mismatched group continued on to one of the nearby dungeons and Aya¡¯s abilities were soon put to the test. On her own, she hadn¡¯t been able to use her Stealth skill as much as she liked and thus it was a little on the weak side at the beginning of their hunt. This soon changed. She used her Stealth skill almost non-stop, coming out of it only long enough to inflict the Bleed skill with all her might. It was the first time she did not have to worry about killing the enemy too fast. All of the EXP was automatically distributed between the three warriors even if they didn¡¯t have a hand in killing the mob, it was win-win for everyone but the mobs they encountered. Over time, the group started to warm up to her but the real points she scored with them were when she managed to bring down a Slither completely on her own. She could tell that the group was growing more and more impressed with her ability. The mobs she killed were usually around level sixteen; anything higher than that she just damaged before the tanks had their go at it. Aya continued to give her support throughout the battles, going in and out of Stealth mode to deliver a blow where she could. At first, she was a little awkward about it. She stepped on some toes and even got bit by one of the snake-like mobs that inhabited the dungeon. But with time, she got the hang of the right timing for each player and things started to work out. As the day wore on, there was less and less conversation between the group members, their entire focus directed on stripping the entire dungeon of mobs and their loot. They worked their way down the dungeon floors in a systematic fashion. Aya plunged ahead, gave some wounding blows, lured smaller groups of mobs away when needed and spent some time looting whenever the tanks were in the final moments of battle. Unfortunately, the snake-like mobs didn¡¯t bleed but instead gave off this foul-smelling, tar-like substance. Aya collected it nonetheless. She¡¯d asked the warriors if they were interested in the blood, slime and skin of the mobs, but they¡¯d turned away, revolted. She shrugged, figuring she¡¯d gotten more out of the Contract than she¡¯d hoped for. The snake beasts of the dungeon looked like a snake version of a centaur, instead of having four legs their bodies transformed from humanoid to one long tail. Each floor of the dungeon had a prevalent species of lamia; their skin, size and attack patterns varied but their basic appearance was the same. There were, however, other types of creatures. They seemed subservient to the Slither beasts and would always attack first. Their attack patterns were a lot more crude and they were that much easier to get rid of. It worked perfectly because Aya could Bleed them while the others were occupied in finishing off the Slithers. The blood she fed to Henry and the Slither-slime she stored away. This garnered her some even stranger looks from her warrior party but they chose not to comment. When all three of the warriors ganged up against a mob, it gave her no space to Stealth her way in so she fell back, worked on her Scribe skill and collected the loot that the warriors didn¡¯t bother with. She just couldn¡¯t help herself; years of scrounging every penny contributed to her hoarding tendencies and it made it so whenever the warriors were preoccupied she¡¯d have to find small nooks and crannies to hide bundles of useless loot in. Aya continued the habit she¡¯d acquired of drawing out the route of wherever she was. Every now and then, she¡¯d take a moment to sketch out a particular landmark, but mostly she just used it to keep track of beasts, their levels, their difficulty, the kind of loot they dropped and most importantly, where she¡¯d hidden all of her stashes.The need to keep things hidden had just increased since she¡¯d gone to prison and it had come to the point where she couldn¡¯t trust anyone. She also wouldn¡¯t be able to keep carrying all of it with her. Her character¡¯s strength and endurance hadn¡¯t grown enough to carry more than eighty pounds without severely slowing her down. She tried to focus a little of her stat growth on strength, but it was hard when speed, agility and litheness were the most important aspects of the Stealth skill. In order to grow her strength without making herself slower, she decided to try something new. Not long after she¡¯d just hidden another stash of ¡®useless¡¯ loot, she grabbed a couple stones and tied them around her right wrist using some old strips of cloth she had in her bundle. She¡¯d learned to always keep some on hand. They were surprisingly useful, just like duct tape in the real world. She repeated the process with her left wrist and did the same for her ankles, using bigger and heavier rocks. Satisfied, she tried walking and moving with her new contraptions. The first couple of steps were awkward, but when she tried jumping around a little with them, just to make sure the knots wouldn¡¯t loosen, she was awarded with an almost immediate stat gain in strength. Aya grinned. It had been quite a while since she¡¯d gotten a stat so easily. Satisfied, she got back to work and made a mental note to keep changing up her routine. The mechanics always awarded new and different ways of training, so she needed to learn to change things up more frequently if she wanted to reach a decent level by the weekend. With her new methods and not needing to worry about her EXP, her stat gain once again skyrocketed. Without the constraint she¡¯d needed to exert on all of her motions in order to not kill mobs directly, she moved faster, hit harder and reached farther. By the time they reached the last level of the dungeon, she finally got to 99% on her thirteen level stats. The moment they entered the last level, Aya felt a shiver crawl up her spine. Until then, the place had been silent, but this level reverberated with low rattling noises. Aya didn¡¯t even have to see the first Slither to know what was going on: they¡¯d reached the rattlesnake level. Cringing and distracted, she activated her Stealth and stepped forward, ready to round up the next Slither, only to be bombarded by a volley of darts. Eyes wide, Aya couldn¡¯t do anything as the vast majority of them sailed past above her head. She yelped when she felt two hit her, one in the ear and one in the neck. Her hands were yanking them out before she had completely registered what was going on. Looking around, she tried to get help from one of her companions, but she was getting dizzier by the second. Her health was dropping rapidly and notifications were popping up left and right. She¡¯d been poisoned. Why weren¡¯t the warriors helping? Aya looked back to see their wary faces inspecting the ground. Ah, traps, they were checking for more of them. Her vision then gave out completely and she crumpled to the ground. The moment she blacked out, all of the pain she¡¯d been feeling was replaced by utter blankness. The only thing she could see was a large screened notification. [Status: Unconscious] Time Remaining: 00:02:18 With nothing else to do, she merely waited as the numbers counted down slowly, wondering if she would die before she woke up. Her health had already been critical when her vision gave out on her. If she died now¡­ she wouldn¡¯t be able to log into Era for a whole day. Twenty-four real world hours, the penalty for a death. Chris sighed. If she died now, she was for sure not going to make the player cut by Friday and if that didn¡¯t happen¡­ Suerte¡¯s words still reverberated clearly in her head, leaving no room for doubt about what would happen to both her and her sister. Chapter 37 Metropolis - Capsule Bay 341 - Unit 7 Monday, May 11th, 2089 | 02:22pm [Status: In-Game] Aya was still watching the countdown when it finally fell below one minute. The more time that passed, the more she started to wonder about what would happen when she woke up. Was she already dead? Was the countdown in Era time or in real time? But before she could stress out about it too much, she was knocked back into consciousness. Dazed, she blinked, wondering if she¡¯d misread the counter, but when her vision finally cleared, she understood. She was surrounded by her warrior group and before she could finish catching her bearings and feel the full relief of the fact that she hadn¡¯t died after all, Lulia, the female warrior, spoke up. ¡°I took the price of the healing potion out of your loot portion.¡± Not a question, a statement, but Aya wasn¡¯t about to dispute it. She knew not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Instead, she got up and brushed the dirt off her tunic. Going by the expressions on the group¡¯s faces, they weren¡¯t excited about waiting around for her. As they moved out, Aya patted down her pack just to make sure she still had everything. A surprising side effect of the poisonous darts was that she received a new stat called Poison Resistance. She¡¯d gotten bitten two or three times on their way through the dungeon but it had never resulted in a stat gain. Then again, she¡¯d never gotten poisoned seriously enough to die from it. Aya had only been hit by two of the dozens of darts aimed at her; for anyone else, it would have been instant death. It was one of the few occasions where she¡¯d been awarded for being short. Having learned her lesson, Aya was a lot more careful going forward. Before leaving the trap, she looked for what had triggered it and eventually spotted the cobblestone she¡¯d stepped on. It moved slightly under her weight, but other than that, the only aspect that indicated its presence was its slight discoloration. Aya wondered if it was from frequent use or perhaps the trap had been installed some time after the building of the dungeon. For whatever reason, it made her hopeful that she¡¯d be able to spot any further traps from then on. She scanned the cobblestone carefully, relying on her darkling sight more than she ever had before. It wasn¡¯t more than fifty feet later that she saw the same kind of discoloration in their path. She pointed it out to the warriors but they couldn¡¯t spot it, no matter how hard she tried to explain. Eventually, she just gave up and guided them around it. They started coming across the rattlesnake Slithers, but this time Aya did not join the fight after her initial strike, too busy scanning the area for more traps. Because of Aya¡¯s caution, it took them over an hour to clear the last floor, but they also successfully avoided six more traps on their way to the final boss room. There was a communal sigh of relief when they spotted it, but it wasn¡¯t over yet. The mob-boss was slithering randomly in the corner of the room but Aya¡¯s entire attention was caught by the entrance. Before the warriors could step forward, she pulled them back and warned them. The passage was very narrow, maybe two feet in width, and very long, probably more than ten feet in length. The entire passage was made of one slab of stone, the same color as all of the traps she¡¯d avoided. She looked around, trying to see if there was a way to avoid the trap, but if there was one, she didn¡¯t find it. The passage was too long to jump through in one go. Even the best long jumper wouldn¡¯t be able to clear it; there simply wasn¡¯t enough space behind them to get any kind of running start. After staring at the narrow ten-foot long passage for a while longer, she shared her findings with the group. The four of them spent another five minutes looking around, trying to come up with a solution to their problem. When no solution came to mind, the warriors started to get impatient. Without consulting the rest of the group, the blue orc simply screamed across the room, trying to get the boss¡¯ attention. Aya cringed, and looked over at the boss. If he headed over toward them, now she¡¯d be screwed. While frontal attacks were the warriors¡¯ preferred method of combat, it would most definitely get her killed. Luckily, the serpent king didn¡¯t even turn to look at them. Aya heaved a sigh of relief as further attempts went unanswered. She needed the EXP from the boss if she wanted to level up but how was she going to be part of the fight if the warriors were hellbent on a frontal assault? And that¡¯s when it occurred to her: she would need to bait the beast. Stepping forward while the three warriors were creating a racket, trying to get the serpent¡¯s attention, Aya took off the stones she¡¯d tied on to her wrists and ankles. She¡¯d tripled the weight already and when she took them off, she felt as light as a feather. It didn¡¯t mean the trigger would see her the same way, so she got down on her knees before proceeding. Her actions quieted the group as they watched her progress but she was too concentrated on the task to pay them any mind. She couldn¡¯t see the trigger, but she guessed it was probably weight activated. Otherwise, it wouldn¡¯t make sense to make the passage so narrow and long. This guaranteed that anyone who wanted access had to go through the precisely-laid path. Afraid of how sensitive it was, she spread her weight over the ground by getting down on her stomach before she entered the passageway. She held her breath and scuttled forward like she¡¯d seen it done in so many military movies. The first two feet were the hardest and longest. She expected some trap to go off at any second, but it didn¡¯t. The remaining eight feet went by in a blur and before she knew it, she was on the other side, unharmed. Dazed, she sighed in relief and dusted herself off as she got to her feet. She¡¯d scuttled a lot further than she really needed to but she just wanted to make sure she was past the area of effect of the trigger. As soon as she was upright, she activated her Stealth skill again and looked over at the Serpent King. He still hadn¡¯t noticed her presence, which allowed her to sneak up on him as she had with all his underlings. He was much bigger than the rest of the Slithers they¡¯d come across, of that she was sure. Even in the dim light of the dungeon, his purple scales gave off a metallic sheen. He continued to slither back and forth and the closer Aya got, the more she realized how big the boss was. By the time she made it across the room, she¡¯d come to terms with the fact that the room was a lot bigger than it seemed from the outside. Standing four feet away, she realized that he too was much bigger up close, standing over three times as tall as her, with a another ten feet of tail following him wherever he went. Biting her lip, she tried to figure out what to do. His scaly skin looked a lot tougher than what she¡¯d come across that far. Her goblin dagger was already reaching the end of its lifetime and in the past two floors had barely been able to even break the skin of the snake-beings. She swallowed hard, envisioning an attack where the dagger simply shattered on impact. Shaking her head to clear it of the silly notion, she commanded herself to get a grip and do what she¡¯d gone there to do. Aya clutched the dagger and waited for an opening. After three minutes of observing the boss she realized that every couple of passes, he would stop and look at a particular spot on the wall. Her eyes followed his and she saw the same slight discoloration she¡¯d seen on the booby-trapped cobbles. Curiosity almost got the better of her, but she forced herself to focus on her task and look into it later. For now, she would just use his distraction to catch him off guard.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. She didn¡¯t actually think her blade would shatter on impact, but it didn¡¯t mean she was going to blindly try to get a cut in. His scales looked quite hard and she was not confident enough to risk her life for a badly-placed cut that wouldn¡¯t buy her enough time to get away. She needed to wound the boss enough to get a head start out of the room and to do that, she first needed to find a weak spot. Aya considered his gleaming, yellow eyes but, discarded the thought on account that he would see it coming. Instead, she opted for what she thought were either breathing or hearing holes he had some way down his throat. There was a bigger and smaller hole on each side of his throat and they had the added benefit of being two feet closer to the ground and thus, to her. They were still too high to reach, but luckily, he¡¯d chosen the corner of the room to slither back and forth in. With her little and lithe body she¡¯d be able to propel herself off the wall and up to the right height. She positioned herself accordingly, waiting for the right moment to strike. The snake chose random moments to check on his discolored stone and so she waited another six passes before he finally looked at it while he was within her reach. Taking a deep breath, she lunged up the wall. Immediately, realized she still wasn¡¯t high enough. Fear propelled her to get a second jump off the perpendicular wall. If she fell back down now, without getting an attack in, she¡¯d be giving herself away. Stealth worked only as long as the opponent did not know she was present and there was no way she could muffle the sound of her landing on the cobbles. Getting the second foothold allowed her to jump high enough and latch herself onto the Serpent King¡¯s neck just long enough to get her blade in. She aimed for the larger of the two right breathing holes and by some miracle, the blade went in perfectly. But when she tried to pull it out, it broke at the hilt. Not having enough time to freak out about it, Aya simply threw the hilt away as she jumped off and ran toward the warriors. In her preoccupation, she didn¡¯t even hear the agonized scream the Serpent King let loose, her entire mind on the task of getting away. She activated the Stealth skill but at her skill level it was almost ineffective at a run. If she¡¯d ever run faster in her life, she didn¡¯t remember when. The warriors were all ready for the attack but in her hurry to escape, she¡¯d forgotten the minor detail of the trap. Not having another option, Aya fell to the ground and started moving forward on her stomach as fast as she could. Behind her, she heard the Serpent King¡¯s fast approach but she didn¡¯t let herself turn around to look. She needed to focus on getting to the other side so the warriors could get to him and that¡¯s what she did. When, after what seemed like an hour later, she finally reached the other side of the entrance, she thought she activated the trap. The stone beneath her sank slightly, making her jump up from her position. She didn¡¯t care if she still had a foot to go, she just got up and lunged past the wall of waiting warriors. On her feet and behind her group, she watched as the Serpent King worked his way out of the passage. It was already a tight fit for such a big beast but his weight must have activated the trap because the ceiling had given out and was pushing the boss to the ground. He screeched and wriggled wildly, trying to get loose. The warriors were laughing as they attacked the imprisoned beast. But Aya stepped back, doubting the boss would be held captive for much longer. As if by prophecy, the Serpent King freed himself in the next second. He lunged forward at the trio of warriors. Thankfully, they¡¯d attacked him enough for the boss to change targets. Taking advantage of her forgotten position, Aya quickly activated her Stealth skill and made her way around the Serpent King. The warriors were a well-trained team and they were attacking evenly from all sides, but there was a part of his back that was uncovered because of the passageway rubble that was in the way. Taking advantage of its perfect position, she scrambled up the pile of broken stones and waited for an opportunity to attack. She didn¡¯t have to wait long. The Serpent King was already tired from his struggle to get loose and the warriors were doing a very good job. Aya waited until one of them looked like he needed a break to step in. This happened shortly after when Samil, the blue orc¡¯s, mace shattered on impact. Seeing that the Serpent King was going to take advantage of Samil¡¯s loss of momentum, Aya jumped in. She didn¡¯t have a weapon anymore, but she had a small amount of sticky frog slime. At the taller vantage point, she didn¡¯t have any trouble reaching the Serpent King¡¯s eyes and struck the moment he bent down to go after Samil. Aya had the slime spread on both her hands and, securing herself with the help of her legs, she rubbed the slime into the boss¡¯ eyes. It took her two or three seconds to work the sticky substance off of her skin and by then, the Serpent King was already bucking wildly, trying to get her off. Unable to hold on any more, she flew off its back and thankfully past the warriors into safety. She fell with an ungraceful and painful thud, but by the time she got back to her feet the boss had already forgotten about her existence. Samil used the time she bought him wisely and pulled out his backup weapon, a large, unwieldy wooden hammer. It was obvious that the orc wasn¡¯t comfortable with the weapon, but thankfully the the loss of sight in its right eye gave the Serpent King such a big movement and accuracy debuff that they managed to defeat the beast not long after that. When the boss finally fell to the ground in deathly stillness, all four of them were panting furiously. It dawned on them then that they¡¯d probably chewed off more than they could handle with their attack on the boss. Without the initial damage given by the passageway and without the debuff Aya had caused, the four of them would probably not have come out on top. The fact seemed to dawn on all of them at once because all three of the warriors were looking at Aya with grateful smiles. Taken aback, she nodded slowly in return. It was the first time that anyone had looked at her with anything akin to trust in quite a while. She smiled back. After they recovered their health and made sure there were no more traps left, they unburied the passage from the rubble and made their way back to the boss room. The Serpent King had very good loot, just like all the forum posts had said and they were fortunate enough to get a rare main drop, Fangs of Pure Venom. The online market put their price somewhere around 18,000 gold. The warriors had been ready to leave after looting the Serpent King, but Aya convinced them to stay and check out the boss room. She was still curious about the boss¡¯s interest in the hidden tile. It took them over twenty minutes just to get back in the room, but when they did, it was worth it. They cautiously approached the trigger tile and Aya threw a rock at it from a distance, just to be safe. It was a good thing, too, because the same type of poisonous darts sailed across the space she would have been in to reach it by hand. A small section of the wall beside the tile gave way to reveal the open space behind the wall. It wasn¡¯t much bigger than two square feet and inside, there was a pair of bladed weapons supported by an iron stand. A notification popped up labeling them as The Lost Poisonous Claives. The group was ecstatic at the discovery and grew more so whenthey couldn¡¯t find a single mention of them in the forums. They guessed it to be an unique item that could only be found once. The Eastern Plains were a pretty new region so it wasn¡¯t too surprising that new artifacts were still springing up, but this particular dungeon had already been explored many times. The discovery of the weapons was bound to stir some attention. Aya thought they were beautiful, made of a green metal so dark it almost looked black. The blades narrowed steeply right off the hilt and then broadened again to a hooked tip. She wondered what kind of price they¡¯d manage to get, but at the same time, she was saddened by the prospect of selling them. Lulia, their self-proclaimed leader, stashed them away. The way out was a lot easier than the way in and loaded down with loot, they didn¡¯t bother clearing the dungeon out again, just running out as quickly as they could until the mobs de-aggroed on their own. In less than half an hour, they made their way up the dungeon, a trip that had taken over ten hours on the way down. When they reached sunlight again, Aya had to shield her eyes from the bright afternoon sun. Without having to worry about her next target, she really felt just how grimy she was. She shuddered at what she imagined she looked like in that very moment, a small, greasy child of indeterminate gender. And yet, she felt the best that she¡¯d felt in days. Her step was lighter, a grin stretched across her face and she realized that the only person she¡¯d been fooling was herself. She had loved the dungeon hunt. It was the most fun she¡¯d had in years, more fun than she had felt since her parents had died. As she thought about it, the pressure to succeed in Era came back, but those hours where she¡¯d been so focused on the task ahead that she¡¯d forgotten her worries, she¡¯d felt truly free. Sighing, she smacked herself back into reality and her steps immediately felt a thousand tons heavier. Chapter 38 Metropolis - Goldilocks Monday, May 11th, 2089 | 2:51pm Aya was at level fourteen. In one more level, she would need to start thinking about what class she wanted to pursue. From the beginning, she¡¯d wanted the assassin class. It would be the perfect fit for her character, and the appearance of The Lost Poisonous Claives just seemed that much more prophetic. On their way back to town, she reasoned, bargained, pleaded and eventually begged Lulia for the blades, but the warrior just shook her head and said she would need to check the market first. Still unable to enter Durrenheim, Aya was forced to stay outside of the city walls trading with the traveling merchant until Lulia returned. It took almost half an hour, but it gave Aya an opportunity to catch up with Xavier who came outside the city gates to meet her. The blacksmith gave her a dagger and a sword to show what the crafts made of the pure metal looked like. Aya thought it was beautiful, but she wasn¡¯t a weapon appraiser so she kept a straight face. There was no reason to show Xavier how pleased she was; when people had nothing to work toward, they tended to become a bit lax about things. She arranged for him to hand over half of their current weapons stock to Fiddler. Ackman would have the shop up in one day, but Aya couldn¡¯t wait that long. Every day counted and at least this way, they could get the word out a little bit more quickly. Once Xavier left to complete her request, Aya was back to working on her notebook; she needed to keep things current. After she¡¯d taken time to outline their route and take notes on the dungeons and the Slithers, Lulia finally returned. The warrior was upset. The only people willing to buy the blade had been Serving Time and their offer had been nigh on insulting. Aya suspected the guild of blackmailing the rest of the square but didn¡¯t say anything while Lulia recounted her disgust with the ugly kid at their stand. Nodding and trying to keep a straight face, Aya tried not to think about Donovan. Apparently, the kid was really adapting well to his undercover role, but then again, he was her ¡®friend¡¯ and she also thought him unpleasant. It took over ten minutes of bickering back and forth, but eventually Aya managed to convince Lulia and she got the blade. The warrior would only have been able to get a better deal if she¡¯d headed toward a capital city, but having spent a large part of the day with the girl, Aya knew she wasn¡¯t ready to leave the Eastern Plains yet. In the end, the group retained the entire earnings from the hunt and each of them got a new weapon from the Fiddler. All in all, it set Aya back about 12,000 gold. It was a cringe-worthy amount, but Aya considered it a worthwhile investment. That is, until she saw the level 19 minimum on the weapon. Having signed a Contract already, she just hoped she was in the game long enough for the investment to pay off. Lulia and her friends had come out a little on top with the deal; rare artifacts were hard to sell anywhere since they usually had many particularities that only revealed themselves once ownership of the item was taken. For the blades, it turned out to be their cap level and their special ability. They were poisonous blades, but they only worked when fueled by Slither poison, which needed to be stored inside the hilts of the Claives. Aya sighed, knowing she¡¯d have to go back to the dungeon at some point before she reached level 19 and find a way to collect poison from the lamia mobs. Caught in thought, Aya was surprised when each member of the warrior group sent her a friend request. ¡°Your level sucks,¡± Lulia said petulantly. Samil rolled his eyes and said, ¡°What she means by that is that you¡¯re a pretty good support.¡± The other male warrior, Nadsass, said, ¡°Thanks for the good haul.¡± Aya accepted the requests and then they were gone. She wouldn¡¯t really call them her friends, as there was still a level of reserve they displayed around her. It was understandable; she was a convict, after all. The subject had never come up after their initial conversation, but she could see the reticence they showed around her. Over the day, it had decreased slightly, but it was still very noticeable. She wondered if it would ever change, if players would ever trust her, if people in the real world would ever trust her. The thought depressed her, but what was the point of even thinking about it if she failed Suerte and never managed to make it out of jail? Packing up her things, Aya headed towards the farmstead. There, she hid The Lost Poisonous Claives, as they would be of no use to her until she leveled up to 19. Then she went to tend the birds. She fed them all of the blood on hand, which more than halved her load, then collected all of the eggs and took them inside Ferguson¡¯s house. She¡¯d counted 34 Layhens, but they had only laid 13 eggs in total. It was possible that some of them had nests outside of the coop, but she simply didn¡¯t have the time to chase them down. Having read Ferguson¡¯s journal, she knew enough about Layhens and their eggs that she would need to do a major overhaul of their breeding. She¡¯d have more work for Ackman as soon as he finished the shop. Aya was still thinking about what exactly she wanted the layout to be, but she was thinking of partitions that would encourage selective breeding. From the eggs she¡¯d tested, she saw that the bonuses were either of strength one or none. Unfortunately she¡¯d found there to be more zeros than ones. In order to bring the Layhens back to their former glory, at least as described by Ferguson, she¡¯d have to separate the two out. She didn¡¯t want to think about what she was going to do with the zeros, but she knew the stock needed to be culled. If everything went as planned, eventually, the ones would start breeding twos, and so on. That¡¯s why she needed the partitions, but for now, she didn¡¯t have the time to invest in the birds. The reward would be great, but not soon enough. Setting the eggs aside, she went to look for Ackman. He was steadily working away, but quickly running out of materials. The drought had inflated the price of all materials, particularly wood. Ackman told her he was going to be over-budget and late if something didn¡¯t happen at the sawmill. Aya wasn¡¯t too surprised; she¡¯d never seen construction go through on time and on budget, not in the real world and apparently not in Era, either. Taking matters into her own hands, Aya got directions from Ackman and headed over to the sawmill. Luckily, it was on the outskirts of town, outside the city walls. The door to the workshop was open and there were many people streaming in an out. Ackman really wasn¡¯t lying when he said the price of everything had gone up. By the chatter of some builders standing by, waiting for their orders to come in she worked out that the price of bricks was just too high. The process of brick-making just needed too much water to be feasible in a drought, so everyone had switched over to wood. It made sense, but Aya just wondered what would happen long term. Trees also needed water to grow. She looked around, trying to find someone in charge, she wondered if there was even anything she could do, but then a large man walked up pulling a cart stacked full of logs.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°Got another load!¡± he yelled into the bustling workshop. Before Aya could work out where she came from, an old woman was standing before the man directing him and two other workers that had also shown up where to put the wood. ¡°What¡¯che standin¡¯ round doin¡¯ ther¡¯, boy?¡± the old woman practically yelled. Aya flinched, caught off guard by the raspy voice directed at her. ¡°Er, I was looking for some planks,¡± she explained. When the woman¡¯s expression remained dark, she added, ¡°Ackman sent me¡­¡± The carpenter¡¯s name immediately softened her expression a bit. She straightened her back, relieved her reputation with the carpenter was enough to undo at least a little of the negative reputation from Durrenheim. ¡°I told ¡®im to wait his turn,¡± she shouted, apparently her normal speaking volume. ¡°If ¡®en when he wants it soon¡¯r. He migh¡¯ as well com¡¯ do som¡¯ chopp¡¯n h¡¯mself.¡± As she spoke, another cart of logs was brought in. ¡°Or mayhap y¡¯er up fer¡¯ it?¡± the woman shouted when she saw Aya¡¯s interest in the load. ¡°I think I¡­¡± Aya began, but then stopped when she received a reputation increase notification. Reconsidering on the spot, she finished with, ¡°Yea, what do I¡­¡± She wasn¡¯t even able to finish her sentence and before she knew it, she¡¯d been given an ax and agreed to fell wood. If working for the woman improved her reputation and sped up the supply of planks for Ackman, she wasn¡¯t going to turn it down. Aya needed to improve her reputation to get back into Durrenheim and if she was able to do it while furthering her own goals, it was killing two birds with one stone, three including the strength stats she was about to gain from chopping wood. Having just leveled up to fourteen, getting stats was once again a lot easier than it had been in quite a while. All she had to do at first was pick up the ax and swing it at one of the marked-off trees in the forest behind Old Mam Lulo¡¯s workshop. Not all of the trees were marked, but the ones that were, weren¡¯t all marked the same. Aya soon realized her mistake when, five minutes later, she was still hacking away at the same big tree she¡¯d chosen. Panting, she took a moment to use her Scribe skill and recover her breath before she chose another, smaller, tree to try. More careful about her approach, she tried aiming for a particular spot before swinging the ax at it. About twenty swings later, she got an aim stat point, but the progress was still marginal. Sweating from the hot weather and exertion, she propped herself on the ax and looked around to see if she could spot another player. She¡¯d been hearing other axes throughout the woods, so she knew she wasn¡¯t alone, but now it looked like it was time for her to go get some pointers. Following the sound to the nearest player, she watched as a male archer hacked at a medium-sized tree. Not even a minute later, she knew it would be useless to try to imitate him. He was barely any better than her and was relying solely on brute strength, something that wasn¡¯t an option for her. A couple trees over was a female shaman of some kind; she had the religious Contract Rune tattoo on her forehead. Aya had read up on it in her Contract research . The rune strengthened the gatekeeper bond, but in turn, also required more energy to maintain. The woman was a lot more methodical in her ax-work and Aya was soon taking notes on it. She took out her notebook and sketched out a few moments of the swing. It wasn¡¯t really necessary, but it helped her visualize the movement. Having conducted enough research, she headed back to her spot and got back to work. The first few swings were awkward as she tried hard to mimic someone else¡¯s movements. She had to keep consulting her sketches, but five or so minutes later, she was starting to get the hang of it. Eventually, she felt it click, and her body automatically followed the motions she wanted it to. She felled her first and then her second tree as she amassed more and more strength and aim stats. She was pouring sweat, but the pure physical exercise actually felt good. Aya wondered if the game pumped artificial endorphins into her body or if the act of fooling her mind made her body do it by itself. Lost in thought, it took her a while for her to realize she¡¯d been joined in her small section of the woods. Only when a massive tree fell right beside her did she jump aside to notice the kid who¡¯d felled it. ¡°WHOOO¡ª¡± he shouted. ¡°Oh! I¡¯m so sorry! I didn¡¯t mean to¡­ Kinda got carried away. First tree I ever cut!¡± ¡°¡­ Ahuh,¡± Aya said, not amused. The kid looked like he was ten years old, but so did she. It wasn¡¯t enough reason to cut him slack for idiotic behavior. Picking up her things, she was getting ready to head to a different area of the woods when the kid walked up and said, ¡°Don¡¯t leave! I¡¯m sorry. Honest!¡± He crossed his heart as he said the last word and Aya really looked at him for the first time. The boy was barely taller than her, with bright blue eyes and strikingly blond hair. Freckles riddled his face, only adding to his innocent and angelic facade. She would have thought the appearance completely artificial, much like her own, if not for the way he¡¯d crossed his heart. The motion was so childishly pure that she actually thought he was a kid. ¡°¡­Ok,¡± she agreed when his pleading puppy eyes didn¡¯t falter. ¡°I¡¯ll stay.¡± ¡°Yay!¡± he said, quite literally jumping into the air. Aya expected him to say something else, but the kid just went back to his corner and started kicking at a tree. For a moment she thought he was deranged, but then she noticed the sheer force of his kicks. They thudded loudly against the trunk and if she wasn¡¯t imagining it, a bluish glow surrounded his foot every time it landed on the tree. The wood at the base was splintering more and more with each kick and less than five blows later, the trunk crashed to the ground. ¡°YEEEEHAAAAW!¡± the boy screamed, beaming proudly at her. Aya¡¯s jaw was hanging loose. It was impossible not to be impressed and his reaction confirmed that the kid was, in fact, a kid. He got back to chopping other really big trees, which made Aya feel slightly inadequate as she slowly chopped away at the smaller and medium trees. They worked in silence for a good couple hours. ¡°ALRIIIIIGHHHT!!!¡± ¡­ With the exception of a few exclamations of joy. Aya worked diligently, splitting her time between chopping wood and writing Contracts. Every half hour or so, a man with a cart would show up and pick up the wood that had been chopped. She received a couple gold for each fallen tree. It was disgusting to see the amount the kid was raking in with his outlandish kicking abilities, but she couldn¡¯t fault the angelic face for anything. The bigger trees gave a lot more money and he was felling them a lot more often than she was. She thought she might as well stay on for the rest of the day. The aim stat points she was getting were great, and there was no chance of getting any EXP from fallen trees. There was also an added advantage of the reputation points she was getting from the work. Helping Old Mam Lulo increased their relationship, and to a lesser degree, her reputation with Durrenheim. If she could bring it up enough, she might be able to get back into town. When it was starting to look like she really was going to stay, she got a party invite out of the blue. Reading it over, she was suspicious. Aya had never heard of any of the players in the group before and was about to turn it down when she got a PM. [We read Lulia¡¯s review on the forum and we¡¯re looking for someone to help us clear the Serpent Dungeon¡­ She said you write your own Contracts and we¡¯d be willing to negotiate¡­] Surprised, Aya opened the forums and searched for herself, and true enough, there it was, Lulia¡¯s glowing review. It was strange to see such words of praise from the girl who¡¯d barely talked to her in all the hours of their dungeon crawl. She smirked, considered the offer and agreed. It was time to see if the hours of aim training had any effect whatsoever on her combat skills. She couldn¡¯t wait to try out Bleed with better aim. Chapter 39 Metropolis - Goldilocks Monday, May 11th, 2089 | 3:37pm [Status: In-Game] Aya joined the party of three warriors and a mage and agreed on a Contract where she didn¡¯t get any EXP until she needed to level up. At that point, if it came up during their hunt, she would get just enough EXP to level fifteen before not getting any once more. It was perfect for her. Even though the party was a lot less experienced, even if their levels were slightly higher and she focused more on the stats than before, the hunt went much faster the second time around. She was able to draw on her experience from the previous hunt to make up for the mage¡¯s abysmal performance. Seeing firsthand how weak mages were at the lower levels, she was extremely glad she hadn¡¯t chosen that particular path. The mere thought of how long it would have taken her to level up made a shiver crawl up her spine. With each level, gaining stats became that much harder. Throughout the hunt, she¡¯d trained strength, agility, litheness and aim as she had the previous hunt. The difference this time was how she went around collecting Slither venom whenever she could. The Slithers on the first couple of floors didn¡¯t even have poison in them, a fact that had gone unnoticed from her in the first round. Over the next couple of floors, she started developing a method to get to the snakes¡¯ venom. She could cut the fangs and dribble out the venom, but trial and error showed her that she couldn¡¯t wait too long after the lamia died; the venom coagulated very quickly and became almost impossible to extract. Once, she accidentally cut herself on the snake fang and watched it continue to drip venom even after she¡¯d extracted her hand. The method had the added benefit of seriously improving her poison resistance stats. From then on, she simply started the venom flow with a quick cut to her hand and stored the rest of it in one of her multi-purpose water bags. Instead of helping to finish off the Slithers as she had for the other team, she would sometimes sit back and work on her poison extraction or snake skinning. Combined with the other haul, she¡¯d collected quite an impressive quantity of snake skins. Eventually, she also found a rhythm of hunting with the new team. Aya realized it was going to be different with every set of people she worked with, but at one point she got so fed up with the mage¡¯s uselessness that she took him by the arm, shoved her backup goblin blade in his hand and taught him how to strike without getting his squishy self hurt. ¡°Strike and retreat,¡± she kept repeating. It worked like a charm when the brat didn¡¯t try to be a hero by thumping his chest and trying to stay to fight. He needed to learn his place, he was a mage and mages didn¡¯t have good resistance or defense. Over time, she figured out that the group was made up of a bunch of work-friends, accountants no less. Then she watched as the mage fail incredibly even after her whole lecture. Putting his real identity into perspective explained a lot. ¡°Look,¡± she said, fed up, pulling him aside for what she decided would be the last time. ¡°See this?¡± Aya sent him a link to the forum. ¡°This is some mage basics. You chose this class, now deal with it. You¡¯re gonna be a backup player forever and you won¡¯t be particularly useful until you reach level 25¡­ at least. So until then¡­ rely on the good graces of your friends and stay back. Your fake heroics are a nuisance.¡± The guy¡¯s slightly feminine tightened recoiled in anger but before he could retaliate, one of his female office co-workers, a warrior named Esteell said, ¡°She¡¯s right, Marvin. Just shut up and stay back.¡± The mage¡¯s game name was MageSlayer, but Marvin fit him so much better that she had a hard time not laughing. Alright, who was she kidding? Twenty seconds went by before she bent over and cracked up until tears flowed out of her eyes. She tried to stop, but couldn¡¯t. By the time she managed to pull herself together, her abs were hurting and her cheeks were wet. When she looked up, Marvin was glaring at her, but after that, he stayed back and they actually got through to the boss. When they reached the boss room, they had to wait twenty minutes until he re-spawned. Aya didn¡¯t know that boss¡¯ had a cool-down period of twelve Era hours or she might have chosen a different dungeon to crawl. She thought about all of the collected venom, her increased poison resistance, the Contracts she¡¯d sold to the team while waiting and all the basic fighting experience she¡¯d accumulated over the last eight hours and realized she was wrong. She was glad she had gotten the second round of that dungeon done with. She could feel her skills improving and she didn¡¯t want to have to come back to the dungeon just to collect some Slither venom. Now that she had enough to hopefully last her blades a while, she intended on doing as many other dungeons as she could. It would be the best way to increase her stats quickly, by teaming up with different people and encountering different situations that tested her in new ways. The stats were rewarded that much more quickly every time you did something original. The rest of Aya¡¯s day followed much in the same way. MageSlayer ended up leaving a horrible review but it was ¡®disliked¡¯ by all three of his warrior friends, one of whom commented, ¡°Stop being such a pussy, dude. You had your ass handed to you by a little girl. Deal with it. As for the review: she drives a fair bargain and is a no bullshit kind of person. Very experienced, even tried to help our team¡¯s weak link. Totally recommended, don¡¯t let the XXX discourage you, none of that got in the way for us.¡± ¡®XXX¡¯ stood for convict status and Aya almost choked up when she saw the words, even if she snorted over the words ¡®very experienced¡¯. By the time she got back to Ferguson¡¯s farm, it was already too late to sign a new training Contract even though she already had three more requests. Instead, she politely declined, outlined her schedule for the next day and went about some menial chores. She worked on Contracting the eggs. As expected, about half of them gave absolutely no bonuses. Aya took out her notebook and made a sketch of the bird coop she wanted. It needed to have private pens so she could lock the birds in until she figured out which ones were laying which eggs. She would need to get rid of all the zero bonus ones and focus on the useful ones. It was going to cut her stock in half, but at least she wouldn¡¯t be carrying dead weight around. She sketched a couple variations and showed them to Ackman. He gave his professional input and a couple more changes were made before she handed over the final sketch. As soon as he finished the shop, he would start working on the coop. Aya decided to eliminate one of the costs of construction by supplying the wood herself, so she headed over to the woods and spent the last five or so game hours simply chopping wood. The kid must have logged out at some point because when she got there, she was completely alone. Aya didn¡¯t mind; it gave her senseless physical exercise that helped her process some of the thoughts that were storming around in her head. By the time the log-out notification came around, she had to force herself not to immediately accept it. Every minute of game time counted, but she was completely exhausted. Chris stepped out of the capsule at precisely six o¡¯clock feeling surprisingly sore. It didn¡¯t make any sense since her real body had been immobile the whole day, but she couldn¡¯t shake the feeling of pure physical fatigue. In her tired daze, she didn¡¯t register the path to the cafeteria, her gruel or even the walk back to her room. By the time her mind caught up with her body, she was on her bed, watching Tiny do the warm-ups for the exercises. ¡°You back on Earth yet, Barbie?¡± the woman asked, eyes twinkling with humor. ¡°¡­Yeah,¡± Chris said. She didn¡¯t know how to behave around her roommate. It was the first time she¡¯d seen her since that morning when she¡¯d found out the woman had been lying to her all along. She curbed the need to scream, shout and throw accusations by the woman by forcing her limbs across the room to the cupboard. Taking out her mat, she settled down next to Tiny. She purposefully took the exact same spot as always and concentrated on acting ¡®normal¡¯. They went through the exercises in their usual silence and by the end of the forty minute workout, Chris was sweaty, panting and finding it hard to hate the woman. They took their toiletries and headed to the showers together as always and as usual, the tall woman turned to her and asked in all casually, ¡°How was your day in Era?¡±Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Until then, Chris had always seen it as a friendly question, but now she couldn¡¯t help feeling like the woman was spying on her. The question that had been swimming around in her head all day surfaced again: who was she working for? At this point, Chris felt like there were so many players involved that she didn¡¯t even know where to start with her suspicions. There was Suerte, whoever he was representing, whoever they wanted to get to in the prison¡­ who she felt was someone entirely different than the Warden, yet he was the man she needed to satisfy by the end of the week¡­ Not to mention all of the different prison politics she needed to deal with. ¡°That bad, huh?¡± Tiny asked. Chris looked up from her tangle of thoughts and felt a sudden hot anger for the woman beside her. For the last couple of days, Tiny had been the only person Chris had considered her friend. Words that she would have taken as comforting even that morning she now took as mockery. She clenched her fists and forced a lid on her temper. ¡°Ahuh,¡± she said, exhaling slowly. ¡°Not that great¡­ you?¡± She¡¯d never taken an interest in Tiny¡¯s position in Era before. As an ally, it seemed unnecessary to question her about her gameplay. If Tiny was on her side, she would be volunteering any information she thought could be useful to Chris, and going by all that Tiny had told her, that was exactly what Chris had assumed. Perhaps the time had finally arrived for her to become more curious. She¡¯d already told herself this many times, but this time she really swore to herself never to trust anyone again. Everyone had their personal agenda and it never included philanthropy, at least, not as long as the subject was human. ¡°Pretty good,¡± Tiny answered. If she was surprised by Aya¡¯s question she didn¡¯t show it. ¡°Thinking about switching guilds. Some of the top players in mine just left¡­¡± As Tiny went into more detail about the benign subject of her guild, Chris¡¯ thoughts migrated towards her rank. She nearly tripped over her steps when it dawned on her that she still hadn¡¯t checked it. Chris considered waiting to check it in private, so prying eyes wouldn¡¯t see her too-expressive face, but curiosity won out. [5599/5792: Pending Review] She bit her lip, 63 ranks. The only frame of reference she had was Yaz. At level 15, she¡¯d been at 5469. Chris had no idea what the girl was up to in game or what kind of play-style she had, but if the levels were anything to go by, the ranks were almost entirely determined by level. The only exception to the rule was her massive rank jump the day before. Getting to level 10 would not have proportionately propelled her that far. It led her to believe that in her case, the ¡®Pending Review¡¯ was at least being affected by some arithmetic that wasn¡¯t completely automated. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that her fate was going to be completely up to the final review of her rank, whenever that would be. At least, she hoped her rank would be reviewed, because the alternative was bleak. Chris was at level 14. Each level was exponentially harder for to get to. The EXP point increase with each level was ridiculous, but not as ridiculous as the rising difficulty of attaining stat points. She¡¯d spent the entire afternoon at level 14 and the way things were going, she would spend most of the next day on it as well. The thought of getting to level 15 triggered the memory of her conversation with Sid. The woman had told her that another player made it to level 15 in one day, but Chris was only really appreciating that fact now, four days later. Sid had also told her that she needed to get to level seven by the end of the first day. She had been the only person with such a scientific approach to the levels and ranks. It was surprising, considering the woman couldn¡¯t play herself. Goldilocks was massive and Chris hadn¡¯t come across her again, but she was coming to the slow realization that she just might have to find her. If the woman had been able to tell her what level she needed on the first day to stay in the game, she might be able to give her a goal to stay in it at the end of the week. At the very least, Sid might be able to tell her something about the ranking process. *Beep* The door announced quietly as it opened to reveal total and utter mayhem. ¡°¡ªIgging bitch!¡± a tall white woman shouted as she punched a smaller black, naked woman. ¡°This is what you get for stealing my place!¡± Two other women were holding the small one as the taller one continued to rain blows down on her. Each blow was accompanied by a muted thud, but if the small naked one was crying out in pain, it couldn¡¯t be heard over the jeers going around in the stalls. It seemed like each cubicle had someone inside, yet no one was stepping up to help. Instinctively, Chris started to take a step only to have Tiny raise her arm to block her path. Chris looked up to see the woman shake her head slowly before motioning for them to back away. ¡°Bu¡ª¡± Chris began, only to have Tiny grip her arm tightly and start pulling her back. She was getting ready to struggle against the woman¡¯s grip, but when they turned around, they saw more women approaching. Tiny¡¯s grip tightened and she swiveled her back in the direction of the shower. Confused, Chris just followed limply as the woman lifted her arm and then Chris¡¯ arm to the reader before entering the showers. Tiny quickly pushed Chris into a stall and closed the plastic door. ¡°Wh¡ª¡± Chris began again, only to be cut off again. ¡°Shh,¡± Tiny whispered. ¡°Quiet.¡± Hearing the increasingly agitated crowd around them, Chris stayed quiet as the beatings continued to rain down on the woman outside. Sympathy for the woman was slowly replaced by fear as she worked out what was going on from the cries and insults she heard. ¡°Fishies get what¡¯s coming to them!¡± ¡°Know your place!¡± ¡°Any more fish need reminding?¡± ¡°Tiny¡¯s got one with her!¡± ¡°Come on Tiny! Let her out! Or is she¡ª¡± ¡°Yea!¡± Tiny shouted, pushing Chris further into the stall. ¡°She¡¯s busy!¡± Chris would have blushed if her face hadn¡¯t already been drained of all its blood. Jeers and shouts echoed across the stalls. There seemed to be more and more people entering the showers, way more people than there were shower stalls. ¡°Get her!¡± Someone shouted across the room. Tiny leaned over Chris and turned on the shower, and stripped down. She was naked by the time women started banging on the plastic door. Tiny winked at Chris, looked her up and down suggestively before turning around to address the women. ¡°Unless you want to come in here and get wet with me, buzz,¡± she said in a slow, firm and loud voice. ¡°You wo¡ª¡± one of the women began, but was cut off when shouts rang out on the other side of the room. ¡°Stiffs incoming!¡± All it took was that one shout and suddenly everyone was repeating it. ¡°Stiffs!¡± ¡°Stiffs!¡± ¡°Quick!¡± Tiny urged. ¡°Shower!¡± ¡°Wh¡ª¡± ¡°Just shut up and get naked, Barbie,¡± she said harshly while she soaped herself down in record time. Seeing the woman¡¯s rushed movements, she was quick to do the same. Women were running all about them and dozens of showers sprang to life. ¡°After that fiasco, they¡¯re gonna shut this shower block down for the night,¡± she said rinsing off all the soap. ¡°If you wanna sleep clean, you better move.¡± Chris took the fastest shower of her life, nearly scalding her skin under the temperature Tiny chose. She barely noticed it as they jumped into the half-wet clothes they¡¯d dropped at the entrance as they made their way out of the showers. She kept pace with Tiny and half ran, half jogged her way back to their room. The door beeped closed behind her and she was feeling all sweaty again. She was breathing hard, both from panic and exertion from the run. Her hair was dripping a mixture of water, sweat and unrinsed shampoo. ¡°Relax Barbie,¡± Tiny said calmly as she put her things away. ¡°They can¡¯t get in without these, remember?¡± The woman held up her b-link. Chris nodded mutely and put away her own things, only then noticing the absence of her soap. She cursed under her breath, adding the small task of procuring a new bar of soap to her already enormous list of things to do. Sighing, she slumped down into her bed, not caring that her hair was getting it all wet. She might be safe now, but the women were going to kill her in the morning. As if sensing her thoughts, Tiny poked her head over her cot and said, ¡°Stop fretting Barbie. You¡¯re safe. They ain¡¯t gonna hurt ¡®ya.¡± ¡°But they were targeting¡ª¡± ¡°New meat,¡± Tiny finished, confirming her thoughts. ¡°Yep. Every time there are new people, some old players get ranked down to duds. They don¡¯t like that much¡­¡± ¡°So how can I not be worried?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t go around spouting your rank,¡± she said. ¡°That¡¯s why. Stay under the radar until the week is over. You¡¯ll need to decide who you¡¯re gonna join soon, but you got until then at least.¡± ¡°Join?¡± Chris asked. ¡°Come on Barbie,¡± Tiny looked at her flatly. ¡°You know better than that. Just keep doing what you¡¯re doing and you¡¯ll be fine. This always happens¡­ it usually just takes a bit longer is all. Now that the first one¡¯s broken out, the guards will be more vigilant. They¡¯ll be more vigilant, pulling double shifts, you¡¯ll see.¡± Tiny retreated when Chris didn¡¯t say anything for a moment. She considered her words carefully before she asked a minute later, ¡°Hey Tiny, who are you with?¡± The large woman poked her head over the edge of the bed, ¡°You asking me if I¡¯m taken, darlin¡¯?¡± her lips twitched in amusement before she added, ¡°Already told ya, you¡¯re not my type.¡± Tiny winked and once again retreated. The silence around them lengthened and eventually just became the silence of the room as both women worked on their own things. Chris was back to researching the forums, she would need to figure out exactly what class she wanted soon. Time ticked by slowly until the lights eventually went out. Usually, Chris stayed awake a lot later, but the days of stress had finally caught up with her and she felt her eyelids drooping. She didn¡¯t fight them, but the last thing she heard was Tiny¡¯s voice. ¡°You don¡¯t get to pick Barbie, you¡¯re chosen. Just play your heart out and¡­¡± The rest was lost to slumber. Chapter 40 Metropolis - Goldilocks Monday, May 11th, 2089 | 6:45am As usual, Chris woke up from the vibrations of her b-link. It stilled almost immediately as it registered her increased heart rate. Sitting up, she stretched and looked out at the virtual window across the room. This morning¡¯s scene was particularly breathtaking. She was looking out over a cliff as the sun popped its head over the horizon. There was a very faint smell of salt in the air. Standing up and stretching, her mind slowly awakened to the new day at Goldilocks. Tiny was stirring from her cot as well. The woman had a really hard time getting up in the mornings. Chris was about to laugh about the woman¡¯s muffled curses when the events of the previous day came rushing back, crashing down on her peace like the waves on the virtual cliff-side. She still didn¡¯t know if she could trust the woman. On one hand, it was quite obvious Tiny had been lying to her, but on the other, she had just saved her from a serious beating. The small moment of serenity the view of the sunrise had given her was slipping through her fingers. Wanting to hold onto it a bit longer, Chris opened her b-link settings and maxed out the sensory overlay. Waves that she could only see before now crashed loudly all around her, splashing salty mists that reached her with vivid clarity. She¡¯d only ever seen the ocean once, as a little child, before her mother married Rin¡¯s father., The scene before her felt more real than the memory. Chris brushed her teeth at the sink and changed into a fresh pair of prison slacks. Meanwhile, Tiny managed to slump out of bed and head to the toilet. Knowing there wasn¡¯t a physical barrier there always made it weird when Tiny simply disappeared from sight the moment she entered the designated toilet perimeter. It looked like she¡¯d walked into the room¡¯s wall and any and all sounds were blocked. Making her bed and straightening her things, she watched the scenery for one more calm moment before she faced the day. Chris only had three more; she would have to make them count. Strategizing for the day ahead, she decided to walk to breakfast with Tiny. She might not trust the woman, but she could rely on her for protection, at least for now. Chris¡¯ thoughts went back to who Tiny was affiliated with. The three main prison groups had all kinds of convicts in them, from all different races, but each had a concentration that defined them. There was the black/Asian group, the Russian/¡¯international¡¯ group led by the infamous Nika and the other predominantly white group. Chris didn¡¯t automatically assign Doris to the Asians; she had a feeling the woman was somehow involved with the mysterious leader of the third group. If she wasn¡¯t the leader herself, she was probably someone very high up. Tiny, on the other hand, she suspected of being affiliated with the Russian group. It was a suspicion she¡¯d formed over the last couple of days. Her tall roommate was always seen sitting with the Russian ¡®hulks¡¯. The table was comprised solely of large, overly muscular women who didn¡¯t speak at all during meal times. Considering Tiny¡¯s usually boisterous personality, it was a little strange that she chose to surround herself with such stoic figures. She was trying to picture herself inside the political machinations of Goldilocks when a movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Chris jumped up and headed out the door when she saw that Tiny¡¯s exit had been completely drowned out by the loud crashing of the waves. As she caught up to Tiny, she lowered the volume settings, but chose to leave the other sensory settings alone. She¡¯d walked into a prairie theme and was quite enjoying the sweet smell of blossoms all around. It was almost enough to bury the feeling of dread surrounding that morning. In fact, both settings had been¡­ ¡°What is it, Barbie?¡± Tiny asked, all grogginess gone from her voice. ¡°What¡¯s what?¡± Chris asked, looking around, trying to find the source of the woman¡¯s question. ¡°You,¡± Tiny explained. ¡°You just sounded like you figured out world peace, or at least how to shovel your way out of this pit.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± Chris said. ¡°Actually I was just thinking about that. You know the landscape settings on the b-link?¡± ¡°Ahhhh,¡± Tiny said loudly, making Chris cringe. She looked around warily, trying to see if there were any convicts close to them. ¡°Y¡ª How many times do I have to tell you to relax? Sheesh. Nothing¡¯s gonna happen to you. Especially not with your boo around¡­¡± the woman slung an arm around her shoulders and winked suggestively at her. Chris huddled uncomfortably, making the woman crack up laughing. ¡°Too easy, Barbie, too easy,¡± Tiny said, before getting serious again. ¡°But as for what you were saying before,¡± she looked at Chris¡¯ look of incomprehension and added, ¡°The landscape thing.¡± Chris nodded. ¡°You¡¯re asking me about the weather and stuff right? Like why it¡¯s so nice and sunny all of a sudden?¡± ¡°Yea¡­.¡± Chris said. ¡°I was actually gonna ask if they choose more peaceful themes.¡± Tiny¡¯s eyebrows arched up in surprise, ¡°Oh, you still haven¡¯t chosen a fixed one yet?¡± Chris shook her head. ¡°Huh, hadn¡¯t pegged you for a swiper.¡± ¡°A¡­ what?¡± ¡°A swiper¡­ you know, someone who keeps swiping for the next option?¡± ¡°Oh¡­ right¡­ I guess,¡± Chris said. ¡°But anyway, you¡¯re right. They turn up the ¡®tranquility dose¡¯ and get rid of all the rain and thunder whenever the kids start getting uneasy. And well¡­ it¡¯s about that time. Goldilocks only gets new prisoners once a month¡­. So yea. Friday¡¯s gonna be a pretty big day.¡± ¡°So¡­ why don¡¯t they just keep it nice and balmy every day?¡± Tiny smirked and gave Chris the look she¡¯d always given to Rin, the look that said ¡®it must be nice to be so naive¡¯. ¡°Cuz then it wouldn¡¯t be special. We¡¯d all be acclimatized to it and go crazy anyway. Change is necessary. Staring at the same wall day in and day out would drive anyone crazy.¡± ¡°Yea¡­ I guess,¡± Chris said, remembering her promise to keep an eye out for Sid. Chris and Tiny walked up to a small crowd of inmates waiting by one of the partitions that led to the cafeteria. Stopping behind them, Chris checked the time: 6:59. The doors would open in one minute and the women would flood to the cafeteria to get gruel before Era.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Hearing a commotion, Chris turned around to see a group of unhappy women approaching the crowd. She stiffened, but luckily the doors opened in that moment and the crowd flooded into the hallway outside the cafeteria. By unspoken agreement, Chris went her own way after they reached the cafeteria. She needed to get out of there, and into Era, as soon as possible. She stood in line for what felt like forever. Chris hadn¡¯t been as aware of the sheer number of bodies around her since her first day at Goldilocks. She¡¯d gotten used to the women over the days, but that morning, even with the beautiful prairie all around, she felt very vulnerable, like a gazelle in a pride of lions. Grabbing her tray, she headed over to find a seat as quickly as she could. Happily, the table by the door hadn¡¯t been claimed yet, so she sat down with her back to the nearby guards and her eyes to the rest of the room. Chris dug into the gruel as fast as she could, happy the viscous substance didn¡¯t need to be chewed. At one point, she thought the food tasted oddly sweet, but the moment the thought occurred and she paid attention to her palate, the usual taste of fruity seaweed with a grainy, potato-like aftertaste took over. She was halfway through her meal, hoping she¡¯d be able to finish before anyone else came to her table, when someone approached the seat in front of her. Stilling the spoon halfway to her mouth, she looked up as the small black girl from the day before took a seat. Chris¡¯ hand went back to the table, settling her spork down as she pursed her lips, unsure of the situation. Chris looked around the room for the first time; she¡¯d purposefully avoided doing so until now. The faces that looked back, confirmed her fears. Chris bent her head down and got busy with the process of eating again. ¡°I¡¯m sor-ry,¡± the black chick said, her voice sounding like it¡¯d been scraped over gravel. ¡°I¡¯ll sit somewhere else if you want me to. It just s-seemed like a good idea this morning¡­¡± Her head nodded toward the stationed guards. Chris¡¯ eyes flickered from the woman with the broken face to all the ones behind her. Even if she didn¡¯t want to call unnecessary attention to herself, telling her to leave now just seemed cruel. ¡°No, that¡¯s alright,¡± Chris said. ¡°Stay. I¡¯m almost done anyway.¡± She wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. Stepping up to help her when she was being beaten was one thing, but in that precise moment, the woman wasn¡¯t being attacked and all that Chris was doing was painting a bigger and bigger target on her back. They both ate in silence. Chris could feel the woman wanting to say something a couple times, but Chris avoided having a conversation with intense gruel-focus. Eventually, though the woman managed to get a couple words in. ¡°Th-thank you¡­¡± the woman said when Chris stood up to leave. Her words puzzled Chris, but the woman soon clarified, ¡°For yester-day¡­¡± Chris cringed. She felt like an ass. There the woman was, all bruised and swollen from a one-sided beating Chris had avoided by a hair, and all Chris could think about was getting away from her like she had the plague. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I¡ª¡± ¡°No, thank you,¡± the woman interrupted her with a sudden firmness in her voice. ¡°I saw you. You tried to help. That meant a lot.¡± She nodded and added, ¡°That¡¯s all.¡± Feeling dismissed, Chris walked off. The woman¡¯s heartfelt words made her feel like one of the worst human beings on the face of the planet. Considering she was buried deep under the ground with thousands of thieves, murderers and God knows what else, that was saying a lot. She shoved her tray onto the conveyor belt with unnecessary force, trying to wipe away the slimy feeling that had overcome her. Chris turned and was about to walk out when she noticed the inmate bent down on the floor, wiping away bits of gruel. Waiting for the woman to get up, she approached her cautiously and asked, ¡°Hi, I¡¯m Ay¡ªChris¡­¡± ¡°And I¡¯m busy,¡± the woman said in bored irritation. ¡°Sorry to bother you, but do you know Sid?¡± Chris said, unconsciously picking at her fingers. The woman sighed, straightened and finally looked at her. ¡°Look Ch¡ª,¡± she began, but suddenly stopped when her expression changed from irritation to interest. ¡°Wait¡­ you¡¯re Barbie, Tiny¡¯s little girlfriend right?¡± ¡°¡­ I¡¯m her roommate, yeah.¡± Chris answered, unsure about how she felt using her ¡®relationship¡¯ with Tiny as an in with the woman. ¡°What do you want with Sid?¡± ¡°I just¡­ want to talk to her.¡± ¡°¡¯Talk¡¯, huh?¡± the blonde older woman said with a smirk. ¡°Is that what they¡¯re calling it these days?¡± ¡°No, I¡­¡± The woman held her hands up with a laugh, ¡°Look¡­ girl. I don¡¯t care what you do in your free time, just don¡¯t let Tiny hear about it¡­¡± ¡°No,¡± Chris said, feeling like the woman was going to start a rumor about her and Sid the first chance she got. ¡°I would never chea¡ª do anything with. I¡¯m not¡­¡± Flustered, she could feel the blood rushing to her face, which only made the woman laugh all the more. ¡°It¡¯s not you I¡¯m worried about¡­¡± the woman said, looking at something behind Chris with a huge smile. Turning around, she looked in the same direction and spotted Tiny only a few tables away. Chris turned back to the woman when she noticed the growing group by the door. She was unsure of what the woman had meant by the comment, but she didn¡¯t have time to stay and find out. ¡°So¡­ How do I¡­ Do you¡­. Could you¡­¡± Chris fumbled rapidly with words, not sure of what to ask exactly. ¡°Yea, yea, I¡¯ll tell her, this should be interesting anyway,¡± the woman said with a discomforting grin. ¡°Go with Stacy and Sid will be there with a scrumptious snack for ya at lunch.¡± ¡°Sta¡ª¡± Chris began to ask. ¡°Just go already, or you¡¯ll miss the deck.¡± ¡°Thank you so¡ª¡± ¡°Git,¡± the woman said impatiently and Chris left. Quickly, she made her way to the door. The group, or ¡®deck¡¯ as she guessed at the term¡¯s meaning, looked pretty full. She wasn¡¯t sure how many slots were left, but it could only be one or two. Chris¡¯ legs moved at a nigh on run, but her eyes still unconsciously scanned the tables for Tiny when she didn¡¯t see her in the spot she¡¯d been in a moment before. The woman always stood out, so it wasn¡¯t hard to find her, but when she did, her eyes bulged at the sight. Her large roommate was two tables away, tray in hand, talking to Doris, who had no tray in hand and was nodding. Chris¡¯ eyes remained glued on the pair as she made her way to the door. Another inmate had joined the deck; if she wanted the spot she needed to keep moving, even if her insides were screaming at her to stay. From a distance, she couldn¡¯t hear or even guess what they were talking about. She squinted, trying to read their lips, but without Aya¡¯s body she couldn¡¯t see that far away. A moment later, when they went their separate ways, it didn¡¯t matter anyway. Chris kept looking at the retreating figures, thoughts boiling, all the way to the door. She reached it just a couple seconds before two other women arrived and started forming the next deck. The ten of them were led out the door, away from the noise and smell of the cafeteria and toward the Capsule Bays. However, even with the growing distance between them, her thoughts remained on the women. Doris had never mentioned Tiny, had she? And Tiny had actually warned Chris about Doris¡­ How did they know each other? More importantly, what kind of relationship was it? As she marched in line behind the other women, her thoughts kept returning to a growing suspicion. The more she tried to reason against it, the more certain she became, and by the time she entered her capsule, she was convinced Tiny worked for Doris in her faction. Betrayal and anger boiled deep inside of her. After the woman had saved her the night before, she¡¯d been finding it hard to hate her, but not anymore. The only reason Tiny¡¯d helped her was because the women in charge of the beating had been Doris¡¯ goons. If Tiny had let her fight, she¡¯d only have gotten in the way, maybe even injured Doris¡¯ toys. Chris didn¡¯t understand Doris¡¯ fascination with her, but she didn¡¯t want to have anything to do with her. The woman was merciless and the moment she found out how much of a fraud Chris was, how much she sucked at the game, she¡¯d be discarded like yesterday¡¯s trash. No, she wasn¡¯t going to cry and beg for protection at either of their skirts. It wouldn¡¯t be easy, and she didn¡¯t know if it would work, but the moment she left the real world, she knew exactly what she would have to do when she came back. First though, she had another game to play. Chapter 41 Metropolis - Goldilocks: Capsule Bay 57 - Unit 4 Tuesday, May 12th, 2089 | 7:12am The moment Aya logged in, she was bombarded with messages. One was from Ackman telling her the shop was complete, one from Xavier telling her the weapons were being moved to Nelson¡¯s, two from the accountants she¡¯d met with, a bunch from a people she didn¡¯t even know requesting her ¡®services¡¯ and one from Donovan. She read through the first two while she started making her way over to Nelson¡¯s farm. Eventually she got to Donovan¡¯s message. [We need to talk.] She¡¯d spent the entire previous day PMing the boy, asking for information about how things were going, if he¡¯d found anything usable, but, after basically telling her to shove it, he never even bothered with a reply. Aya checked the time-stamp of the message; he¡¯d sent it hours after she¡¯d logged out. As she walked up to the farm, she checked on Donovan¡¯s status and sure enough, he was offline. She wrote him a quick reply to PM her when he logged on again, but she knew it would only happen at ten a.m. She came across Ackman first. He was laying the groundwork for the chicken coop they had designed. A quick check with him confirmed her assumption: he was going to need more wood. Then she moved to the shop site and was shocked by what she saw. Over a dozen players were walking back and forth from the shop, unloading things from an oversized wagon being pulled by two oxen. The shop itself was complete, its wooden walls gleaming with the dark varnish stain she¡¯d chosen. It had a little portico all around it, covered by an overhang. As she approached it, she could envision the things missing. The windows still needed glass panes, the veranda could do with some benches to give the place a homier and more comfortable feel, the area around the shop could do with some serious landscaping, but, most of all, the place needed a name. Right then, there was nothing that differentiated the shop from a normal house. She needed to come up with a name and find someone to put up a sign or a banner. ¡°Lookin¡¯ good, right?¡± Xavier asked, approaching her. She¡¯d never seen the man voluntarily start a conversation before. She¡¯d also never seen such a happy and enthusiastic look on his face. ¡°Yea,¡± Aya said. ¡°It is.¡± ¡°People are already coming in,¡± he said nodding towards a trio of players. Aya could tell that they weren¡¯t hired hands because they were missing the colorful icon above their heads. ¡°Oh wow,¡± Aya said, thinking about how useful an icon like that would be in the real world. ¡°How¡¯s the word getting out so fast? I thought I was going to need to hire some more people to shout it out through city square or something¡­¡± ¡°That might not be a bad idea,¡± Xavier said, ¡°but all the blacksmiths have been talking about it and it¡¯s become a hot topic in forums¡­ Check it out for yourself¡­¡± Xavier swiped a link toward her and it appeared in her field of vision a moment later. She opened it up and saw that, for the region of Durrenheim, the shop was the most-talked-about discussion. [NEW SHOP OUTSIDE OF TOWN! GOOD WEAPONS, FAIR PRICES!] ¡°Unless you want the shop to be known as the ¡®new shop¡¯, I¡¯d give it a name if I were you,¡± he said, big grin on his face. ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right,¡± she said. ¡°I was actually just thinking about it. I don¡¯t really know what to call it, though. I can¡¯t really call it ¡®Weapons Shop¡¯ if I want to sell other things in it as well¡­ It has to be neutral. But calling it Aya¡¯s would be¡­ Oh, I got it,¡± she said finally. ¡°Nelson¡¯s.¡± ¡°Nelson¡¯s, eh?¡± Xavier asked. Aya nodded, feeling right about her decision. It was a perfect way to honor the man, even if he had probably brought her more grief than happiness. She helped with organizing the goods on the shelves until Xavier walked up and told her to go find something else to do. Aya laughed, watching the large man frown at and scrutinize at each piece before carefully finding a place for it. He obviously knew more about the price and value of weapons than she did, so she put him in charge of finding and training someone for the position. They filled out a Contract together and she left it with him until he could find someone appropriate. She stayed long enough to watch the large man sell one of the players a sword for fifty-six gold. With a grin on her face, she left the shop and picked another player who worked for her. She gave him a quick sketch she¡¯d made with her idea for the shop¡¯s banner and told him to find a tailor to commission the work from. Giving the kid her last gold reserves to cover the costs, she signed a Contract with him and told him to advertise for the shop in town while he waited for the banner to be embroidered. He nodded and went on his way, leaving Aya with just one more thing to do before she could get back to leveling. Sitting at the base of a tree, she spent almost an entire hour working on Forum Contracts; all proceeds immediately went into paying her interest costs for that day. When she¡¯d finished paying it off, plus a little more, she got up, dusted herself off and checked on the shop one last time. The wagon was gone and all the hired players had gone back to their normal positions. She¡¯d received notifications of Contract extensions and was glad the mining was still going on. If the number of players showing up at the shop was anything to go by, they might need to start to mine even more before too long. At some point she would need to look into the Rockynos; they were still the bottleneck of the production process. She needed to find a way to domesticate or at least contain them so she could use them more effectively. Right then and there, though, she didn¡¯t have time to worry about anything that might not give her results within the next three days. Aya checked the forums for a good party to team up with, but they all wanted to go to dungeons she¡¯d never been to before. Wanting to be in Durrenheim when Donovan showed up, she posted an offer for the Slither dungeon. It wouldn¡¯t be very interesting to do it again, but she knew how to clear it quickly and she liked the skins she looted from the Slithers. Fiddler paid really well for them and if Aya wasn¡¯t so worried about her rank, she would have invested some time into processing them into more profitable finished goods. While waiting for an interested party, she headed back to Old Ma¡¯am Lulo¡¯s place, picked up an axe and got back to choppin¡¯. The task was still a surprisingly good source of stat points, even with her so close to her level fourteen¡¯s max. She worked at it in silence for an hour, bringing her 93% to 97%. The last two percent were going to be the hardest yet. She took her usual break when her Scribe skill cooled down and knocked out a Contract, finally bringing her skill level up to ¡®Barely Novice¡¯. Every time she leveled, she thought about how fortunate she was to have found her Manic Creature the way she had. There she was, constantly using the skill and only now was she considered a ¡®Novice¡¯. She shuddered at the thought of how long it would have taken her to learn runes the traditional way. From what she¡¯d seen at the library, she would have had to reach the ¡®Expert¡¯ level at the very least. Absentmindedly, Aya started sketching. Her drawings tended to raise her Scribe skill a lot faster than any of the Contracts she did, especially when she¡¯d already done the same type of Contracts many times before. She wondered how long it would take to get her Scribe skill up to ¡®Expert¡¯ before her thoughts wandered over to her second Manic Creature. Other than getting more mana, Aya hadn¡¯t noticed any effects from it. It was just as well. Most Manic Creatures had at least one small bonus tied to them, even if it was just a couple extra stat points here, or slightly higher recovery speed, but usually it was so small that the players didn¡¯t even notice themselves. She checked her Manipulation tree to see how far she was away from completing Stage III, 39%. Aya¡¯d been getting so many notifications about it over the last couple of days that she¡¯d set them to silent. Compared to when she was working on her first and second Manic Creatures, the progress was a lot slower. Aya¡¯s sketch of the Serpent King was finally coming together when she got a PM from an unknown player. She gave the permission for contact and read their request for a dungeon crawl. With twelve Era hours left until Donovan logged in, she had more than enough time to accept the request. She outlined the deal and the party of two mages, a priest and a warrior accepted. It would take them at least twenty minutes to make their way to the dungeon; at most, it would take her five. Aya put her unfinished drawing away, gathered her things, returned the axe, collected her reward and reputation and made her way to the entrance of the dungeon. Finding a cool-¡¯ish¡¯ place to wait under the shade of a tree, she pulled out her notebook and worked on a couple more Forum-commissioned Contracts. She put the reward toward paying back her debt. By the time the party she¡¯d grouped with was about five minutes away, the Forum ran out of requests. Killing time, she fed Henry a dose of blood, noticing she was running low on reserves, then took out her unfinished drawing once more. Aya finished the rough sketch of the Serpent King, but was artistically unsatisfied with how it turned out. She tried putting herself back in the moment, trying to get the beast¡¯s expression just right. Wanting to capture the total essence of the mob, she concentrated hard, thinking of every movement he had made. Inserting movement into a stationary picture was hard, and she ended up drawing out the scenery all around him. The more she thought about the moment when she¡¯d attacked the Serpent King, the more she could feel herself actually being there. She paid close attention to every cobble she sketched, to every scale of the King Serpent¡¯s body and at some point, her Scribe skill must have cooled down because suddenly, she could see the exact lines she was missing. Her pencil flew over the paper, filling out the missing details until finally the painting was perfection. Her heart was beating fast like it did every time she got a drawing just right and she lifted her hand slowly from the page, enjoying the slow reveal of the sketch. She breathed out slowly, comparing her memory to the image before her. Focusing on the scene, she nearly felt herself being sucked into the drawing. The more she thought about it, the more uncomfortable she got, remembering the vicious eyes of the Serpent King and the fear she¡¯d felt around him. Luckily, she¡¯d had backup at the time, but looking at him now, she felt like she was about to face him on her own. Uncomfortable, she tried to break the feeling of being pulled in by looking away, but she couldn¡¯t. Then suddenly, it wasn¡¯t just a feeling. For a moment, she felt like she was falling through space and the next, she was sitting in the boss room, looking at the Serpent King in the exact same pose that she¡¯d drawn him in. Her fingers, still clutching her notebook, were shaking and she looked down to find the page with the drawing gone. Aya felt like she¡¯d been hit by a truck, and sure enough, her health was reduced to half while her mana was completely gone. Her overlay was overloaded with notifications, but before opening them, she slowly inched away from the boss as much as she could. The room was empty except for him, and from what she remembered, he wouldn¡¯t attack unless she attacked first. Backing up as far as she could, she tried to catch her bearings. All of her things were still with her, but Henry wasn¡¯t. She¡¯d taken his constant presence for granted for so long that his absence now weighed heavily on her, especially when she felt so vulnerable.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. As she read the notifications, her situation became clearer and clearer. You have learned a new Skill! Teleportation: Instantaneous travel to a place you have already been to before. Automatic memory system assist. Pre-requisite Skill: Scribe (Scholar Level) Current Maximum Teleportation Distance: 500m Cool-down: 120 hours Yet simultaneously, the circumstances that led to her situation became more and more puzzling. She was nowhere near Scholar Level, and there was no explanation for why Henry hadn¡¯t come with her or why her mana bar kept ticking back to zero every time it looked like it was going to start recovering. Her health bar was slowly starting to recover, but with her mana completely exhausted, the healing process took almost four times longer as it normally would have. Aya spent the entire time staring across the room at the big snake that could decide to attack her at any moment. Even with the dagger she¡¯d gotten from Xavier the day before, she didn¡¯t stand a chance against the Serpent King, not by herself. She sent out a message to the party and asked them if they could meet her at the bottom of the dungeon. Their reply came seconds later, a big fat no. She tried to explain without giving away the fact that she¡¯d teleported there, but her vague explanations just made them more suspicious and angry. They disbanded the agreement, which, thankfully, hadn¡¯t been Contracted yet, and immediately gave her scathing reviews in the Forums. She got pinged when they mentioned her and cringed as she read through them. Aya started to wonder if the real explanation would have gone over better, but a quick browse of the teleportation skill in the Forums told her she¡¯d made the right choice in being quiet. The skill was not unheard of, but it was definitely in the top 5% rarity-wise, and the earliest recorded instance of acquiring it was level 38. Seeing as how difficult it was to get the Scribe skill in the first place, not to mention level it, this made perfect sense. In fact, if Aya continued to improve her Scribe skill at the rate she was, she doubted she¡¯d reach the Scholar level even by level 40. Teleporting 500m once a day didn¡¯t seem very useful to her in that moment when she was stuck in the bottom of a dungeon with absolutely no mana, no backup or even Layhen companionship. It took almost forty minutes for her health to heal up, and when it finally did, she started to move. Leaving the dungeons was always easier than entering them since you didn¡¯t have to kill each and every mob. There was a kill requirement to access lower floors, but not for going back up. It still didn¡¯t mean it was going to be easy. Her Stealth skill out of commission, and getting around the Slithers unnoticed would be a lot harder. Without mana, she was going to have to rely on her litheness and speed. Sneaking out of the boss pit was relatively easy considering the Serpent King never left his corner. She could not say the same for the rest of the trip. The moment she got through the narrow passage, she knew she was in for trouble. There were three Slithers just waiting to attack her the moment she emerged. Two of them attacked immediately, while the other hung back and released a poisonous vapor from his fangs. For most players, it was one of the more powerful Slither attacks and the ability was spawn-dependent, with most Slithers not having it, especially in the upper floors. For Aya though, it was the least harmful. In the two times she¡¯d cleared the dungeon, she¡¯d increased her poison resistance a lot, and she¡¯d specifically raised her Slither poison resistance to 82%. She took some damage, but it was nothing compared to what the two attacking Slithers could do to her. Aya took out her dagger and assumed her fighting position. Her body was loose, her knees were bent and she was ready. Luckily, she remembered the trap in front of the passage and activated it the moment the right snake got near the exit point of the arrows. The mob took some damage from the hit, but none from the poison. It took maybe a tenth of its health, but at this point, any little bit helped. The rattle Slithers on the last floor preferred to attack with sudden strikes, more so than any other species of Slither and Aya used it to her advantage. She waited until the mob was about to strike before she moved aside and let it slam into the wall behind her. Taking advantage of its incapacitation, Aya sank her dagger all the way to the hilt in the little weak spot they had right under their ear holes. The moment it was in, she activated her Bleed skill and cut a large gash into its neck. It started spouting poisonous ichor out of its neck and Aya backed up to get out of striking range before the Slither recovered. Even with the use of the trap, the critical hit and the subsequent perfect Bleed execution, the level 18 beast still had over half of its health remaining. Aya considered taking the snakes into the passage to activate the traps there, but she couldn¡¯t think of a way out for herself on the spot. If she went in there, she¡¯d have to either fight the boss and win or wait for someone to rescue her. Neither was an option. She was barely able to manage the level 18 goon; there was no way she could manage the level 24 beast inside on her own. Instead, she repeated the process one more time on the other side of the same Slither, striking the moment it hit the wall. This time, however, it had attacked with less strength, and Aya had less time to execute the maneuver. Luckily, she managed and even more luckily, the Bleed skill stacked. With the stacked Bleed, it was a matter of minutes before the Slither ended up in a writhing heap on the ground before dying. Aya had no time to rest; the third Slither once more activated its poisonous fog and the higher concentration of poison in the air affected her health a lot, bringing it down by almost a sixth. Between the distraction of the poisonous gas and the dying Slither, the second one managed to get a tail swipe in. Its long tail hit her small frame with such strength that she was thrown against the wall like a rag doll. Her ribs crashed painfully against the stone, making all the air in her lungs leave in a painful rush. The moment she took to regain her composure, stand up and find the dagger she¡¯d dropped was more than enough time for the two Slithers to encircle her. Feeling like prey in a barrel, her mind worked double-time to figure a way out of the situation. There were two of them and one of her. If she wanted a chance to win this, she¡¯d have to focus on one at a time like she had with the first. The only question, then, was how to do it when they were both closing in on her like that. Seeing how the gas-skill Slither was leading the charge, Aya stuck her hand into her pack and rummaged for her last goblin dagger. It was nowhere as nice as the one Xavier had given her, but the stingy man hadn¡¯t given her two, so this would have to do. The Slither kept getting closer and closer as her hand became more and more frantic inside her pack, not being able to locate the damn weapon in her fear-induced haste. A cut to her hand with the edge of a blade was the sweetest pain she¡¯d ever felt in her life. She took the knife out by the blade and flipped it in her hand. Her own blood was making the grip slippery, but she didn¡¯t have the option of dying right then. She crouched and waited for the attack. Because of her previous poison collection, she knew that the gas-Slithers had much smaller fangs, so small, in fact, that they wouldn¡¯t be able to go through her entire pack. So the moment it attacked, she sprang forward, latching onto its scaly body like an angry koala bear. She didn¡¯t wait for the Slither to bend over and try to get at her through her pack. Instead, she kept sticking the blades into its body, over and over and over again. Aya activated the Bleed skill when she could, but in her frantic attack, she managed maybe five or six in the dozen or more stabs that she gave. Three of the Bleeds stacked, resulting in pretty good damage per second, even without the Critical hit. As a gas-Slither, its health was lower than the others and at level 17, it was a much easier kill than the previous one. The moment the Slither¡¯s death convulsions started, Aya backed off, putting its dying body between herself and the last monster. She took a moment to take stock and noticed with shock that her health was down to 18%. The moment she realized, pain flared in her neck with sudden clarity, revealing what adrenaline had disguised in the moment. Surprisingly, the last Slither had also lost a significant third of its health, probably due to its mate¡¯s convulsions. Aya was shaking with a mixture of emotions ranging from fear to anger and even pride that she¡¯d managed to kill two of the damn beasts by herself. They were all multiple levels above her and she¡¯d somehow managed to hold her own, even without the use of her Stealth skill. Hopelessly, she checked her mana bar and saw the slowly recovering blue line. Before the last Slither could take action, she fell down to the ground behind its friend¡¯s body and activated her Stealth skill. She had just enough mana to pull it off once, meaning she had thirty seconds to do what she wanted with it. She got up as quickly as she could while keeping quiet. Aya snuck around the corpse, keeping an eye on the confused Slither, who was now looking behind the body, trying to locate her. Aya took advantage of the moment when the mob leaned over the body, positioned its long arms on the ground and attacked by climbing up the back of its body, using the ridged scales on its back as foothold for her climb. When she reached the top a moment later, she sank to her knees on its neck, putting unexpected force on its head, making its arms buckle under it as it tried to support their combined weight. Seizing the only opportunity she would be given as her Stealth expired, she brought down the two blades with crossed arms and executed a move she¡¯d never done before, simultaneous Bleed skills in a Critical hit. She opened her arms as she cut the Slither¡¯s throat open from behind. By the time she was done, its head was hanging half-detached from its body. It slumped down, gave two last convulsions and died. Aya had black ichor painted on her hands, arms and face, but she didn¡¯t care. By the grace of some miracle, she¡¯d just managed to bring down three Slithers by herself. Aya sat down next to the pile of corpses and caught her breath for the first time in what felt like ages. She allowed her health to recover at a much faster rate now that her mana was ever so slowly creeping up. Every now and then, it would look like her mana recovery rate was getting faster, but then it would drop to nonexistence again. Instead of worrying about it, she decided to work her way out of the dungeon before the Slithers spawned again. She waited ten minutes or so for her health to recover and was up to about two thirds when she decided it was time to move out. With two daggers, very little mana and no backup, not even a Layhen, she felt very unprepared to exit the dungeon, but she had no other choice. Getting into solo fights with Slithers was not an experience she wanted to repeat. She¡¯d barely managed to get away from the first ones alive; she wasn¡¯t about to chance it all over again unnecessarily. Aya avoided two traps before she came across the next pair of Slithers. She considered using Stealth, but, seeing how slowly the recovery rate of her mana was going, she would never make it out of the dungeon that day if she used it every time she encountered mobs. Taking advantage of her size and the fact that they had not spotted her yet, she waited until they¡¯d both positioned themselves in a way that wasn¡¯t looking directly at her before she moved. She slinked her way around them, using boulders that had worked themselves free from the walls to hide behind whenever possible. It was time-consuming, but eventually, she made it through without having alerted the Slithers to her presence. Aya repeated the process for three more groups before she came across five of them at once. Not having an option to get through with sneakiness alone, she activated her Stealth and worked her way through as quietly as she could. Just because they could not see her did not mean they couldn¡¯t become aware of her presence. Aya continued to clear the dungeon in the same way. Every now and then, she would have to wait by a particularly large group for her mana to recover enough for her to use Stealth, but before she knew it, she¡¯d cleared two floors and was well into her third when she heard voices. Slithers didn¡¯t speak and caution laced with curiosity made her stop short and wait, hiding in a crevice in the wall. It took a while for the voices to get nearer and it took even longer for her to be able to distinguish the words, but eventually she heard a baritone voice say, ¡°¡­not looking good.¡± ¡°¡­ get them¡­ matter of time,¡± said a raspy feminine voice. The player was still too far for her to understand all of her words, but as they got closer Aya¡¯s job got easier. ¡°Maybe we should be getting back,¡± said the male voice. ¡°Nah, what¡¯s the point man! We¡¯re almost done here and they¡¯re still rounding up the troops,¡± said a new male voice, of slightly higher pitch than the first. Aya wasn¡¯t sure why she was hiding. Players weren¡¯t immediately hostile, but she was alone in a dungeon and PvP deaths did happen. It would be best if she was able to avoid contact with the group altogether. She listened as their conversation which continued to be an argument about whether or not they should turn back or not. Slowly, the words started to sound vaguely familiar until eventually they slapped her in the face. ¡°I heard the guy¡¯s name is Nelson,¡± said one of them. ¡°Nah, I heard that¡¯s just a cover,¡± said the woman. ¡°I heard it¡¯s actually a little kid that¡¯s leading it all. A convicted kid, no less.¡± ¡°A little kid? No way!¡± said a completely new voice. ¡°I heard it was the blacksmith guy, what¡¯s his name. That big guy, never gave us trouble¡­ until now¡­¡± ¡°Xavier? No, he¡¯s just¡­¡± said another new voice. Aya swallowed, throat suddenly dry. There were at least five players and if her suspicions were correct, they all wanted her dead. She felt her hands grow clammy as the group killed off the nearest pair of Slithers. ¡°Man, these snakes are gross!¡± said the girl, Aya heard her rustling with something. ¡°Just skin it, didn¡¯t you see the price those skins are going for in the market?¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah¡­¡± she replied grumpily. A minute of silence passed as they went around collecting loot, but suddenly Aya could see one of them. In the silence, she hadn¡¯t expected one to show up so soon and let out an involuntary gasp. She quickly clamped her hands over her mouth, but it was too late. A tall human warrior in chainmail swiveled in her direction. She registered the glowing convict symbol in the same moment that he must have registered hers because the next words out of his mouth were, ¡°Well, well, well, what do we have here?¡± Chapter 42 Metropolis - Goldilocks: Capsule Bay 57 - Unit 4 Tuesday, May 12th, 2089 | 8:05am Aya¡¯s throat grew dry and no words came to answer the tall man¡¯s question. She was lodged in the small crevice in the dungeon¡¯s wall. Her mouth was hanging open, giving her the look of guilt itself, when his friends joined him. Things were not looking good for her. She briefly considered of her Stealth skill, but she quickly pushed the thought aside. Instead of hiding and looking suspicious, especially in front of a group of five people she would definitely not be able to escape from, she forced her frozen limbs into movement and went out into the open. Their gear was a lot nicer than she was used to seeing, especially when compared to the players she¡¯d cleared the dungeon with. Having just that morning been around pure metal, quality goods, she recognized that that was exactly what theirs was. The small imperfections and discolorations of normal-quality equipment were completely missing from their gear and the craftsmanship was detailed. Xavier had been upset when she¡¯d been unable to distinguish good from great. Apparently the connections, where one piece of metal met the other, were what distinguished the good from the truly great craftsmen. Unlike with most players, she couldn¡¯t just guess at their levels according to their gear. If she did, she would end up guessing too high. Their gear was fitting for players above level 20, but those players wouldn¡¯t have bother with a dungeon of this level. She attributed their nice gear to Serving Time¡¯s monopoly of the weapons market in Durrenheim and that eliminated all doubts about whether or not she was dealing with the guild¡¯s players. ¡°Hi¡­¡± Aya said, trying and failing not to sound suspicious. ¡°Who are you?¡± barked the only female of the group. Aya couldn¡¯t understand the woman¡¯s immediate aggression towards her. She was an elf of some sort and her features were beautiful, even exaggeratedly so in some areas. Aya had seen a general penchant towards the beautification of avatars but she¡¯d never seen one so outlandishly overdone. The woman¡¯s waist was tiny, her ass¡­ wasn¡¯t. Her general physique was slim, her chest¡­ wasn¡¯t. She used her elven physique to her advantage, making her legs and arms exaggeratedly long. Her face was narrow but her lips were full. She looked like every man¡¯s wet dream. It wasn¡¯t surprising she was alone in a group of men, and when Aya saw the glare the woman was directing toward her convict mark, she understood. Somehow, the woman had registered her as competition. Aya had noticed the overwhelming majority of male convicts in the game. Furia had also had her own entourage, though it was smaller in size. Aya looked down at her flat chest and small stature and couldn¡¯t understand why the woman felt threatened by her; she looked like a little kid! ¡°I was just clearing the dungeon with some friends, but they all died¡­¡± Aya said, jumping into conversation before they started interrogating her. ¡°I¡¯m so glad I came across you guys, I¡¯ve been sneaking around from Slither group to Slither group, but it¡¯s taken me hours just to get this far.¡± Aya watched their expressions carefully and was pleasantly surprised when three of the male convicts seemed to buy her story. One was a mage in dark red robes while the other two were clad in chainmail and metal plating, very similar to the first warrior she¡¯d seen. The tall warrior and the elven woman weren¡¯t buying it, though, wearing open expressions of suspicion and distrust. ¡°Well, I guess I¡¯ll just be on my way now¡­¡± Aya said, trying to get away before they found out who she was, if they didn¡¯t already know. She took one step, then two and three until the elf suddenly grabbed her arm and yanked it back. ¡°What did you say your name was?¡± she demanded harshly. Aya almost blurted out a fake name but decided against it. In her search through the classes, she¡¯d seen skills that let you see a person¡¯s levels and stats, including name. At the lowish level the players were at, they would at most be able to tell if she was lying or not, but it would be enough to arouse unnecessary suspicion. ¡°Aya,¡± she replied carefully, watching their expressions. She still didn¡¯t know if they already knew her name. From what she had heard, they weren¡¯t even sure the person in charge of the Nelson¡¯s operation was a girl. Trying to keep the worry from her face, she smiled and asked, ¡°What about you?¡± ¡°Sympatico,¡± said the shortest of the three warriors. Aya had a strong suspicion he was actually a dwarf but found it hard to judge, being so short herself. ¡°Snyde,¡± said the brown haired, clean-shaven human with no distinguishing features other than a random Mohawk. The female elf glared at the two before turning to Aya and saying, ¡°You with Jailbait? I haven¡¯t seen you around¡­¡± She looked her up and down through slitted eyes, as if squinting at her would reveal her innermost motivations. ¡°No¡­ I haven¡¯t been around long,¡± Aya said. ¡°No? You¡¯re what? Level sixteen, seventeen?¡± ¡°¡­ Fourteen.¡± The woman arched a surprised eyebrow before her scowl deepened even further. ¡°Fourteen¡­ That¡¯s gotta be what?¡± she asked the tall warrior. ¡°Ninety? A hundred Era hours?¡± ¡°At the very least,¡± the baritone replied. ¡°And that¡¯s what? Twenty real world hours?¡± The tall warrior nodded, responding like a puppet to all of the elf woman¡¯s words. ¡°So¡­ Ten days¡­¡± ¡°At the very least,¡± the baritone added again. The elf looked Aya up and down before adding. ¡°But let¡¯s just say fifteen in your case.¡± Aya felt insulted, but there wasn¡¯t much she could say. It had actually taken her over forty-three real-world hours to get where she was. If she had been in any other prison, it would have taken her over twenty days, two hours of Era a day, to get her where she was. Not to mention that normal prison convicts didn¡¯t usually play on weekends. She¡¯d seen exceptions to the rule, but they were usually prison-budget affiliated. Even as subsidized as they were, gaming capsules were expensive. ¡°That¡¯s three weeks¡­¡± the elf continued. ¡°How is it that I haven¡¯t come across you yet? Durrenheim is not so big¡­ unless of course¡­¡± ¡°I don¡¯t go into town much¡­¡± Aya said, trying to stop whatever train of thought the woman was pursuing. An uncomfortable silence followed where the mage, the dwarf and the two warriors just looked at the elf uncertainly. The tall human warrior was the only one that acted the convict part and rolled his eyes at the whole situation. Aya figured most of the criminals in the game were actually in for white collar crimes, which was why so many of them sucked up to other convict players. Feeling the animosity and suspicion towards her grow, Aya watched her mana bar closely. It was unlikely that the Stealth Skill would put her in the clear, but it might buy her enough time for them to at consider her not worth the effort. Unfortunately, it chose that precise moment to go into another lull in recovery and the mana trickled in with painful slowness. ¡°If you¡¯re not with Jailbait, and you¡¯re not with Serving Time,¡± the elf finally said, ¡°who are you with?¡± ¡°¡­ No one,¡± Aya replied uncertainly. ¡°Perfect, then you can come with us,¡± the elf said flatly, without an ounce of doubt in her voice. It wasn¡¯t a request, it was an order. Aya wasn¡¯t the only one to notice; the tall human warrior looked with interest, for the first time, between Aya and the elf. ¡°We were short a scout anyway¡­¡± ¡°But I¡¯m¡ª¡± Snyde began. ¡°A great warrior,¡± the elf interrupted. ¡°Yeah, man,¡± said the unnamed mage. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to break it to you, but you should¡¯a worn something else, like leather, if you wanted to take point.¡± The dwarf nodded emphatically, but the tall warrior and the elf just shook their heads in resignation. ¡°Let¡¯s move,¡± the tall warrior said. Aya hesitated for a second as the group seemed to suddenly take her participation for granted. She got a party invite a second later. ¡°I¡¯m Aethelgrey,¡± said the tall warrior over his shoulder, already walking ahead of her in the same direction she¡¯d just come from. ¡°That¡¯s Endoin,¡± he nodded to the elf. ¡°That¡¯s Fueller,¡± he nodded to the mage, ¡°And Sympatico and Snyde you already know.¡± Taken in by the group flow, Aya took a couple steps in their direction and was about to accept the invite when she stopped and said, ¡°I really appreciate the invite and all, but I have to get back¡­¡± ¡°Why?¡± Endoin asked. ¡°Well, because I need to get back up to the surface¡­¡± ¡°Why, though? Your friends died,¡± Endoin said, still walking behind Aethelgrey. ¡°And if you¡¯ve been trying to get out for hours, like you said, then your time has got to be about over¡­¡± ¡°But I¡­¡± Aya almost told them she was in Goldilocks, with many more hours to go, but decided not to. She remembered Furia¡¯s reaction all too vividly. There was definite resentment towards convicts who could play more than the two government-allotted hours. Seeing Endoin¡¯s expectant gaze, Aya held back a sigh and answered, ¡°I guess you¡¯re right.¡± The woman was eager for Aya to contradict her, but she decided it wasn¡¯t the time or place. Not having another choice, she accepted the invite and went dungeon crawling one more time. Working with a new group always revealed a different dynamic to the fighting, and having to fight without the use of her Stealth skill kept her busy for the next couple of Slither encounters. She was keeping a close eye on her mana bar. It was only half full, but when it completely recovered, she was already planning to run away. She could slink away and leave the party while the others collected loot, and weren¡¯t paying her any mind. Aya used her unusual loot collecting habits to set precedent, always lagging a little behind to collect the venom. She didn¡¯t get to skin the Slithers herself - apparently their skins were becoming popular - but the venom kept her occupied enough at the rear that she didn¡¯t raise suspicion. At first, she raised confusion, but she soon made up a story about a quest for Curina that seemed to settle them. They continued in the same manner, killing Slither after Slither while Aya kept a close eye on her mana recovery. Her mana bar must have been a little over three quarters full when she noticed a significant increase in its recovery speed. Invigorated by the discovery, she went a little overboard in the next Slither fight. She took point, stalking the closest beast with as much stealth and precision that she could without actually using her Stealth skill. Her work must have been paying off because the snake didn¡¯t even turn when she jumped on a rock and used it to propel herself towards the back of the Slither. She tried pulling off the same move she had earlier, latching onto its back to sink the two mismatched blades into its ear holes before tearing its flesh open. She got a critical hit with Xavier¡¯s blade, but the other lodged inside the Slither¡¯s neck and the hilt broke off. ¡°Damn goblin blades,¡± she muttered under her breath as she finished slicing a Bleed with the other blade. Solitary blade in hand, she jumped back and watched as her hit took over half of the Slither¡¯s health. Aya was basking in the moment when she heard a low whistle. Bristling, she clenched her fists and turned around to see Aethelgrey unsheathe his sword for the fight against the other four Slithers. ¡°So that¡¯s what happens when little mouse takes out her fangs¡­¡± he said with a crooked smile before finishing the kill with one blow. The EXP from the Slither¡¯s death leveled her to 15. She was only at 98% of the possible stat points for level 14, but she didn¡¯t intend to explain her leveling method to the party. They thought she took the fast route to leveling and if she revealed the truth, she¡¯d basically be divulging the fact that she played more than two hours a day. She wasn¡¯t doing great progress in Goldilocks terms, but it was spectacular compared to convicts who could only play a fraction of what she did.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Ah, I was wondering when you would level up¡­¡± Endoin said. Their levels were all visible to each other because of the party system. Endoin had the highest level of all of them at a surprising 19, Fueller was at 18 and the other three were at 17. Aya thought Aethelgrey was the best of all of them. He wasn¡¯t a full-out tank, but he had an interesting skill that let him make up for the fact. Instead of taking damage all at once, it was distributed throughout the next five minutes. It could be costly in long, drawn-out fights, but he used it to his advantage by using a quick slashing skill of some sort. His sword glowed slightly with mana each time he used it and Aya could tell it cut a lot deeper than his normal blows. They were busy looting once more when Aya noticed her mana quickly approaching 100%. She crouched down near the furthest Slither, the first one she¡¯d killed with the help of Aethelgrey and started the procedure of taking the venom out. Pretending to take out her waterskin, she fussed with her things while keeping an eye on the group. The moment they all looked away and she was about to activate her Stealth skill, Aethelgrey spoke up. ¡°You¡¯re pretty good for your level, Mouse¡­¡± he said, looking directly at her. Aya¡¯s chance of escape was gone, she sighed and settled down for another wait. Her mana was full, though, and she¡¯d be able to leave whenever the opportunity popped up. ¡°She obviously had an account before her stint¡­¡± Endoin said acidly. Aya suspected the woman¡¯s anger stemmed from Aethelgrey¡¯s praise. The man was the only one of the party that wasn¡¯t at the woman¡¯s beck and call. In fact, he seemed almost dismissive of her, which made the elf that much more tenacious in her pursuit of his adoration. ¡°What you in for anyway?¡± Endoin continued spitefully. ¡°You¡¯re probably in juvie. Pocket-lifting? Maybe vandalism? Oh wait. Let me guess, you¡¯re the badass selling pot in the schoolyard.¡± Resigned to the fact she would have to wait, Aya went about her looting business, not paying the woman any mind. It would probably infuriate the elf more, but she already had a battalion of convicts gunning for her anyway; what was one more? Five minutes later, as they were wrapping up the loot, Endoin was still going on, guessing at the possible crimes that could have led Aya to prison. Ignoring it, she tried to keep her head low, but the more time went by, the more Aya realized the woman wasn¡¯t going to drop it. Eventually, she couldn¡¯t take it anymore and did a quick search in the Forum. She copied the link and sent it to Endoin. ¡°Juvies don¡¯t do Era,¡± Aya said flatly. ¡°I¡¯m in for murder.¡± Shock registered briefly in the woman¡¯s eyes and Aya realized Endoin was a softcore criminal herself. After a week of Doris, Tiny, Yaz and other Goldilocks convicts, the woman just seemed downright dumb and childish. The woman had evidently done worse than Aya in her life, but she found herself completely unafraid, merely pissed off. She marched off to the soundtrack of Aethelgrey¡¯s laugh in the background, knowing her chances of getting away had probably just evaporated. ¡°Oh Mouse, I like you,¡± Aethelgrey said as he walked up to her, leaving the others to follow. ¡°You remind me of my¡­¡± His eyes went blank and he stopped. Aya opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it. They walked in silence side by side until Endoin screeched, ¡°OH MY GOD!¡± Ahead of the elf, Aya and Aethelgrey stopped and turned around to look at her. The woman¡¯s voice was probably the only real thing about the woman and it was the most irritating and grating voice in the universe. Aya almost wanted to hack the system and shove the woman back into character creation for her to modulate that as well. ¡°IT¡¯S HER!¡± Endoin screeched, pointing a finger at Aya. Aya stilled, holding her breath. The cat was out of the bag, of that she was nearly certain, but she waited another second to be completely sure she wasn¡¯t misinterpreting the situation. ¡°Look at this!¡± Aya received a viewshot through the party channel, meaning the other four members were also seeing the picture of Aya and Xavier at Nelson¡¯s that morning. ¡°I was just buying this dagger,¡± Aya said unsheathing her dagger and loosening her knees without being obvious about it. ¡°I was wondering about how you¡¯d afforded that,¡± Aethelgrey said. ¡°It¡¯s a nice blade¡ª¡± Whatever chance Aya had of getting away, along with whatever Aethelgrey was going to say, was cut short with Endoin¡¯s angry voice. ¡°Oh yeah!?¡± she said, ¡°Explain this then.¡± Another file was sent, this time a video of the same scene. It made it obvious that Aya was helping in the setup of the shop, not just a passing customer. ¡°I¡ª¡± Aya¡¯s attempt at an explanation was interrupted by Endoin¡¯s, now gloating, voice. ¡°What¡¯s more?¡± the elf said. ¡°The guild just sent out an announcement about her. They said her name was Aya and that she was a midget.¡± Part of instinctual wanted to contest the fact, but the other more logical one forced Aya into movement while Endoin was stealing the spotlight. With one move she left the party and entered Stealth mode. She had thirty seconds and unfortunately, she¡¯d just positioned herself at the head of the pack. Unable to flee in the direction she wanted to, she took off in the opposite direction. ¡°Sh-she¡¯s gone!¡± yelled Sympatico. ¡°No, she¡¯s not, you dunce!¡± Endoin retorted. ¡°She¡¯s right there!¡± the elf yelled. Aya looked back just long enough to see the elf pointing at her. She wanted to slap herself; she should have known that Endoin, at least, would be able to see her. The woman was four levels above her. If Aya¡¯s Stealth Skill had been better, of if her level had just been one higher... If, if, if, if. There was no point crying about it now. The others couldn¡¯t see her, and she used it to her advantage by zig-zagging randomly through the room. When she noticed that even Endoin was having a hard time keeping track of her, she began going behind boulders for a second or two before continuing. It threw the elf off sometimes; Aya just hoped it was often enough that it would give her the chance to hide during one of her feints. She searched and searched, allowing the party to slowly gain on her. Aya¡¯s lung were burning and her vision was getting blurry from the exertion. With only five seconds left on her Skill and a group of Slithers right in front of her, she darted behind two grouped boulders, picked up a pebble and threw it a little ways ahead of her to the left. The area was riddled with what looked to have been partitions of some kind. It gave excellent cover, but Aya chose one of the least covered areas in the region. She wanted to have them looking for her where she wasn¡¯t and just hoped they didn¡¯t think her stupid enough to hide in the worst spot. Holding her breath, Aya waited for the party to run by. Her Stealth expired and she slowly moved around the bolder as they passed. She forced her lungs to hold the air in until she couldn¡¯t take it anymore. It seemed like it took an eternity for all five members to go by, but when they did, Aya let herself breathe again. Her lungs wanted to vacuum the entire air of the dungeon in loud gasps, but she forced the urge down while the party kept looking for her. ¡°She¡¯s¡­ I can¡¯t see her¡­¡± Endoin said, irritation dripping off her voice. ¡°You lost her?¡± Snyde asked plainly. ¡°Shut up and look for her!¡± Endoin screamed, loud enough to get the attention of the Slithers. The three mobs advanced on the group, snake tongues slithering menacingly out of their mouths. ¡°Damnit!!¡± Endoin screamed loudly as she lunged in for an attack. ¡°You¡¯re the one who got their attention,¡± Aethelgrey said flatly, completely nonchalantly hacking away at his own beast. ¡°Oh¡­ Ugh!!! Whatever!¡± She shouted. The beautiful and composed elven woman Aya had first met was nowhere to be seen. In her place was this scowling, angry, loud and irritated person, but Aya didn¡¯t stay to watch the woman come apart. Instead, she took off the moment she got a chance. Her Stealth still needed twenty seconds of cooldown, but she couldn¡¯t miss the opportunity created by their distraction. Aya moved slowly out of her hiding spot and backed up, away from the fight and towards the way they¡¯d come from. Keeping her eye on the players for any sign of detection, she backed up until she was free and clear. The twenty seconds of cooldown were almost up when the fight started winding down. Aya slowed her movements to a halt, in case it would get their attention and waited for the seconds to slowly tick by. The moment they did, she heaved a sigh of relief, turned around and fell flat on her face. Panicked, she activated her Stealth, but it was too late. ¡°Did you hear that!?¡± Endoin¡¯s screechy voice echoed through the dungeon. Luckily, the others shrugged and shook their heads, but the woman was an elf and her damn pointy ears made Endoin turn back and look directly at Aya. ¡°There she is!¡± the elf screamed and took off in Aya¡¯s direction, completely abandoning the fight. The Slither the elf was fighting tried to follow, but couldn¡¯t keep up with the woman¡¯s long legs. Aya stumbled to her feet, but she knew it was too late. Tripping over her own feet had just cost Aya her life. She ran anyway, completely abandoning any hope of Stealth. The Skill was still activated, but with twenty seconds to go and a player who could see her anyway on her tail, there was no point to try and hide. Before she¡¯d had the advantage of the woman trying to explain to the others where Aya was, but the moment Endoin took the hunt into her own hands, Aya¡¯s fate was sealed. Unwilling to just keel over and die, she kept running as fast as she could. There was a corner just ahead and if she could get to it, just maybe, she¡¯d be able to find a place to hide. That thought kept Aya going after her Stealth expired and her legs were on fire. She could feel the stitch on her side, and she couldn¡¯t remember ever having run so hard. Her throat felt raw from trying to get too much air in at once. All of the combined aches and cramps were getting to her, but the moment she felt a large gash of pain flare up on her back, they went out of focus. All she could think of was the feeling of steel as it cut through her flesh, but she kept her legs running anyway. It all seemed lost, she was going to die anyway, but she just couldn¡¯t bring herself to give up so easily. Rin¡¯s face flashed across her mind and then she heard it. ¡°BOQUAAAAAAAAAK!¡± Aya knew that sound, she stumbled mid-run, making her miss most of the elf¡¯s next blow. The tip of Endoin¡¯s sword caught her in the shoulder, but Aya had just avoided a death-blow. Confused, hopeful, curious and scared shitless at the same time, Aya bent the corner to see the most unexpected sight ever. Henry, yes, but next to him were two players. One she knew, Foot, the other she had never seen before. He was a gargantuan man, both wider and taller than any orc she¡¯d ever seen. He moved with unexpected grace for his size and while she ogled him, he sidestepped her, raised his massive sword slightly and stuck it all the way through Endoin in one go. Aya¡¯s eyes nearly jumped out of her head when she saw the woman spit blood as the rest of it drained out of her punctured abdomen. Shock was the prevalent expression on the elf¡¯s face, like Aya¡¯s, but there was a flash of pure hatred right before the woman died. ¡°You¡¯re dea¡ª¡± the elf gurgled through the blood, before her character suddenly pixelated into nothing, along with all the blood that had been splattered everywhere. ¡°That¡¯s one thing I wish we had in the real world,¡± the mountain of a man said casually as a red Player Killer symbol appeared above him. ¡°What?¡± Foot asked happily, as if they were out for a stroll and a picnic. Aya panted as large man responded, ¡°Clean deaths.¡± ¡°Ooooooh! Yeah, you¡¯re righ¡ª¡± before the little blonde angel of a kid could finish his sentence, the four remaining convicts rounded the corner. They all stopped and looked around in confusion. ¡°She really¡ª¡± said Snyde. ¡°Friend of yours?¡± the large man asked. His massive muscles overshadowed any other feature he might have had as he cleaved into Snyde. He was similarly dead with one shot before the man moved to the next target. The others caught on quickly and tried to flee, but Foot was already behind them. ¡°Wai¡ª¡± Too late, the kid had already killed Aethelgrey with one mana-infused kick. Pixels were flying all around and not even ten seconds later, Serving Time¡¯s guild players were exterminated. Aya couldn¡¯t believe it, she was still recovering her breath when the large man turned to Foot. ¡°Is this your friend?¡± ¡°Yeah!¡± the kid said enthusiastically before turning around to face Aya. ¡°Hey, I found your chicken outside!¡± Foot had a perma-grin on his face that was incredibly infectious and she found herself smiling, not minutes after nearly dying. ¡°Yeah, I¡­¡± ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry. I saw you teleport, but you left this poor little guy outside. He was getting shocked¡­¡± the kid bent down and ruffled Henry¡¯s feathers. Aya stepped forward to stop him, but then she saw the bird croon in delight. ¡°Weren¡¯t you little buddy?¡± he asked in a sing-song voice reserved for babies and puppies, not, in Aya¡¯s mind, sadistic beasts of the Netherworld. ¡°But now you¡¯re reunited!¡± the kid announced proudly, beaming with innocence, as the PK sign hovered above his head. ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Aya said uncertainly, really not understanding the situation. ¡°Hey Kid¡­ I mean, Foot¡­¡± ¡°Awwww man! You¡¯re not a kid like me!?¡± the kid asked, joy instantly replaced by disapointment. ¡°No¡­¡± ¡°Yea, only grownups say Kid¡­¡± ¡°Alright, Foot¡ª¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s okay. You can call me Kid,¡± he said, explaining seriously, disappointment quickly, and luckily, dissipating from his voice. ¡°Frank does, and he¡¯s my friend.¡± Aya nodded at the man, sensing the kid had just given most of the introduction he planned on giving. ¡°But anyway,¡± Foot said impatiently. ¡°What was it you wanted to ask me?¡± Aya looked back at him, but before she could open her mouth he was already saying, ¡°You did want to ask me something right?¡± ¡°Yeah, I did¡­¡± she said uncertainly, looking between the large man and the little kid. ¡°Well, shoot already!¡± the kid said. ¡°Just what level are you? ¡°One-two-three!¡± he announced proudly. ¡°And you¡¯re level fifteen! I can see it because I am stronger than you,¡± he added seriously, as if he was explaining something very important. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± Frank said without intonation. ¡°You got it!¡± Foot said taking up all the emotion that was missing from the large man¡¯s voice. ¡°You coming?¡± ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Aya said, lamely following the duo. Aya and Frank gave monosyllabic responses as Foot continued to blabber on, sometimes with her, sometimes with Frank, sometimes with Henry and even sometimes with himself. They cleared four dungeon floors in the time it took to walk them at a sedate pace, killing every Slither in sight. Aya hung back and watched the over-powered spectacle in awe, still not understanding why the kid had chosen to save her. Another two floors passed and eventually her curiosity got the better of her. ¡°Say, Kid,¡± Aya said. ¡°Yeah?¡± Foot looked down at her, eyes brimming with curiosity. ¡°Why did you come save me?¡± ¡°Because you¡¯re my friend, silly!¡± he said, smile wide. A moment passed before a slight frown creased his brow and he added, ¡°Well, you¡¯re actually old¡­ But we can still be friends like me and Frank right?¡± The boy looked at her with worried hope, innocent blue eyes imploring angelically down at her. ¡°¡­Definitely,¡± Aya said. As if she¡¯d say no to a level 123. Chapter 43 Metropolis - Goldilocks: Capsule Bay 57 - Unit 4 Tuesday, May 12th, 2089 | 8:24am Even after Frank, Foot, Aya and Henry made it back to the surface, Aya¡¯s health was still being plagued by the gash Endoin had inflicted on her. Although her health had recovered to the point where she was recovering points faster than she was losing them, the pain was still excruciating. The gash was the worst wound she¡¯d received in Era, by far. She¡¯d hated the way convicts had to feel pain in Era, but now she abhorred it. At one point she must have made a face of some sort when she moved, once more tearing up her back, because Foot looked at her, frowned and asked, ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you? You got a tummy-ache?¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s just¡ª¡± Her words were cut short when Frank stuck a potion in front of her face in, what she was coming to learn as, his usual taciturn way. ¡°Drink it,¡± the muscular man said, ¡°it¡¯ll help.¡± Aya nodded and took the flask. At any other moment, she might have turned it down. She didn¡¯t know the two of them very well and she didn¡¯t want to be indebted to them, but right then and there, she just wanted the pain to go away. ¡°Thank you,¡± Aya said, really meaning it, before she took a sip. She was unused to philanthropic kindness, the two of them really had no other reason to be helping her out. ¡°Ohhhhhh,¡± Foot said, finally catching on. ¡°You got hurt from that boobs lady.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Aya said, trying to contain her laughter. ¡°I did.¡± ¡°Okay, well, we¡¯re gonna go kill some bad guys now!¡± He announced out of the blue. ¡°You¡¯re too weak, but if you train everyday maybe you can come with us someday¡­¡± Foot said in a lecturing tone. ¡°I will¡­¡± Aya said. He nodded happily, bent down to ruffle Henry¡¯s feathers again and said, ¡°I¡¯ll see you later, buddy!¡± The bird crooned like some well-mannered pet. Unfortunately, his new behavior didn¡¯t extend to her; if anything, the bird had been even more petulant since their reunion. ¡°Bye, Aya!¡± Foot said. ¡°Call me when you want to play!¡± ¡°I will.¡± Frank nodded to Aya, she nodded back. They took a couple steps away and Aya watched their retreating backs until the kid turned back, waved, and shouted, ¡°See you, Aya!¡± ¡°See you, Kid!¡± she replied in the same way, feeling a tad foolish. Foot was ten yards away. She watched them for a couple minutes until her health completely healed up. Frank must have given her some potent stuff because she¡¯d barely used a quarter of it and she was back to normal. Not having the pain weighing down on her was a huge relief and she made her way back to Old Ma''am Lulo. Aya didn¡¯t even bother checking the forums. If she left now, she¡¯d be cutting it close time-wise for her meeting with Donovan, but mainly, she just didn¡¯t want to deal with the backlash she would have received from her breach of agreement. Instead, she picked up an axe and got back to working on her stats and reputation. The level increase gave a huge boost to her stat gain. Most of them were going into strength and aim. It was perfect because they were stats that were usually quite hard to train. The only downside was how boring, tiring and blister-producing the work was. Time went by slowly, but not as slowly as her reputation rose. When she finally managed to neutralize her reputation with Durrenheim, she had exactly twenty-four minutes to get to town before Donovan, being Donovan, logged in. Aya hurried to town, making it back in record time. Panting, she settled out of her jog and into a fast walk as she approached the city gates. She was ¡®lucky¡¯ the same guards from the day before were at their posts; she would get to smile smugly at them while she walked by with her neutral rating. She puffed her chest out, straightened her spine, lengthened her step and just generally tried to look as commanding and pompous as she could. It wasn¡¯t very easy with her height being as small as it was and Henry being as Henry as he was. ¡°Halt!¡± both guards shouted in unison, laying their spears down in front of her, once more preventing her entrance into Durrenheim. ¡°OH, come on!¡± Aya shouted. ¡°Traitors are not allowed in,¡± the guard on the right said. ¡°Leave now, or suffer the consequences.¡± ¡°What do I have to do to¡ª¡± Aya¡¯s words were cut short when her eyes landed on a trio she knew all too well. Without another word, she took off, following the city walls as she tried to keep her head low. Darting her eyes back just long enough to get a few peeks, Aya made sure that they hadn¡¯t spotted her. The first time had been coincidence, but running into Serving Time players for the second time couldn¡¯t be. Wishing she had a hood, Aya directed her attention at Henry and started one of her usual nonsensical conversations. It was better to appear slightly crazy than outright guilty, not that her height would make it easy for her to disguise as anything other than herself. It took four minutes for her to bend the corner and have her suspicions confirmed. The two usual posted guards were flanked by two clearly-marked convict players. Not wanting to call attention to herself by doing a complete one-eighty, Aya went down on her knee and rummaged in her pack. Buying herself time, she took out her notebook and started sketching, pretending to be analyzing a dried out husk of a plant that was near her feet. Henry scratched at it with his feet, totally ruining the effect she was trying to achieve, but luckily, no one saw. Before Aya could think of a plan, three other players jogged up through the gates. One of them approached the first two, while the other two looked around, obviously searching for something. Fearing she knew what, Aya straightened her back and tried to look as big, relaxed, innocent and inconspicuous as possible while pretending to draw a stalk of dried-out grass. As the seconds ticked by and she saw the first two convicts shake their head before resuming their search, she knew her time was running out. The only reason for the guild to have increased their numbers just then meant that she¡¯d been spotted and given away by someone. And the only reason for them to have any numbers at all was that the person in charge of undermining their entire weapons business had also just killed off an entire party of theirs. Henry squawked helpfully, she sighed, and the situation wasn¡¯t resolved. Aya got up and put her notebook away, using as unobtrusive movements as she could. She wanted to avoid attention for as long as she could. Having no way of knowing their levels, Aya couldn¡¯t rely on Stealth to get by. If any of them looked directly at her, they¡¯d spot her, so she¡¯d have to take the indirect route. Grabbing Henry by the neck, she stuffed him into one of her rucksacks and gagged him before he could make any noise. She could have taken the slower and nicer approach but it didn¡¯t have a definitive success rate. Securing her things, she looked around one last time to make sure no one was paying her any attention in that exact moment and activated her Stealth mode. It wasn¡¯t a second too soon: a moment later, Furia and her duo showed up around the bend of the city walls. Aya took a strangled breath, but none of them were looking directly at her. Taking the chance before it slipped away, she moved quickly towards the wall. With the newcomers to the scene, she couldn¡¯t use all the haste she wanted in the fear that the dust would give her away. With twenty seconds left on the skill, Aya reached the town walls and stuck her fingers into the highest crevice she could reach. The last time she¡¯d climbed any sort of wall had been during her sophomore year in high school. The memory was seven years old, but it came back vividly and she climbed the ten-foot wall faster than she¡¯d ever climbed anything before. Unfortunately, she¡¯d never been very fast; she reached the top with two seconds to spare. Not having time to plan a better descent, Aya took a straight dive and tried to remember all her physical education classes that told her to bend her knees. She toppled to the ground ungracefully, landing awkwardly on her butt, all thoughts of bent knees forgotten. It hurt her spine as well, but luckily, she¡¯d been able to absorb some of the impact with her legs. The injuries that hurt were her hands. She hadn¡¯t realized until then just how much she¡¯d punished them in her climb. The skin was torn on almost every finger, her nails were broken on both middle and index fingers and she had cuts and scrapes on all her fingertips. She considered letting the injuries heal on their own. Going by previous experience, it would probably take two hours for her to stop receiving small health deductions, but more like three for it to stop stinging. Henry started jumping around in the sack and in the process of letting him out, Aya came across the healing potion. Choosing to see it as a sign to take the wussy way out, she did just that and got ready to move again. She was a little less worried about being attacked by Serving Time within Durrenheim. Inside the city walls, she was at least protected from being killed by them, as player killing was systematically impossible. Then again, there were ways around it, like forcing her out of town first. With her slightly recovered Durrenheim reputation, Aya had been quite positive that she would have been allowed inside the gates. She wanted to attribute her failure to the guards¡¯ personal hatred of her, but she decided to be vigilant of guards from then on anyway. Aya brushed dust off of her tunic - a motion that was becoming too habitual - as she made her way toward the center of town. Having her location exposed wasn¡¯t a very smart idea, but getting caught alone in an alley was even worse. When Aya reached the market, she approached the first merchant she laid eyes upon without a customer in line and exchanged three Contracts for a musty cloak.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! By the unfairness of the deal and the shoddy quality of the cloak, it was quite obvious why the balding, skinny merchant with bad breath was so devoid of customers. She knew she¡¯d come to regret the purchase of the item eventually. It was hot, scratchy and smelly, and she¡¯d practically chosen a desert to start out in. Right then and there, she put it on and was grateful for the camouflage it provided. She blended right in with the crowd, and not a second too soon. Amongst the other people milling in the town center, there were quite a few Serving Time members, but luckily, there were also many players, merchants and travelers also dressed in cloaks. The garments were stuffy but at least they provided protection from the sun. Aya noticed how the elves particularly seemed to all wear cloaks. Donovan: Where are you? Aya didn¡¯t even bother checking the time. Aya: Durrenheim Square Donovan: Meet me at Black Ivan¡¯s Tavern. Five minutes. Aya asked a random female merchant who looked friendly towards kids how to get to Black Ivan¡¯s Tavern. If the woman thought the request was weird coming from a kid, she didn¡¯t show it. Instead, she even offered to draw out a map on one of Aya¡¯s scraps of paper. Nodding her appreciation and thanks, she did a shallow curtsy and made her way to the tavern. She got there ten seconds before the arranged time; she knew because she¡¯d set up a big timer with a countdown. It was a bit sad how she followed a thirteen year old¡¯s instructions to a tee, but she¡¯d worry about her pride later. Right then and there, with a guild of criminals on her tail and no real friends to turn to, she needed him. ¡°You are late,¡± Donovan said as she took a seat down next to him. ¡°I¡¯m¡­¡± Aya said, then bit her tongue. ¡°¡­ Sorry.¡± Donovan nodded curtly and said, ¡°What did you do?¡± ¡°What did I¡ª¡± ¡°I logged in seven minutes ago and am not completely up to speed,¡± he said in his usual factual voice. ¡°But you did something. They want you dead.¡± ¡°Oh¡­¡± Aya said lamely. ¡°That.¡± ¡°What else?¡± Donovan said just as lamely. A stretch of silence passed. Donovan ordered some tea, which made the barmaid give him a weird look, but she brought it anyway, along with Aya¡¯s cup of water. The cloak was making her sweat like a pig and there he was, drinking a steaming-hot cup of tea. She shuddered, took a sip of cold water and didn¡¯t comment. The kid was just strange, but who was she to say anything? She needed to start finding herself some grown-up friends. ¡°Your actions have put me in a difficult situation,¡± Donovan said. Aya wanted to ask how his situation could possibly be worse than hers, but she kept quiet. ¡°Now I have no choice but to stay in Serving Time until this mess boils over.¡± ¡°Why¡­¡± Aya began, but Donovan looked at her like she was the most dimwitted thing he¡¯d ever come across so instead, she asked. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°I mean, I need to stay under the radar,¡± he said, as if talking to a child. ¡°ST is a huge guild and they have a lot of high-level players.¡± ¡°But they can¡¯t link you to me, can they?¡± ¡°Not yet,¡± he said, sipping his tea. ¡°But if I quit now while all of this is going on, they will look into me and it will not be hard for them to link us both. If not through our copious time together, then through Xavier or someone else.¡± Aya nodded, and sipped her water, not sure what to say to him. ¡°Luckily, this situation will be over before too long.¡± ¡°What do you mean by that?¡± Aya asked. ¡°I mean the situation will be over in a couple of days,¡± Donovan replied, matter-of-factly. ¡°¡­ Why?¡± Aya said, controlling the urge to roll her eyes. ¡°Because ST¡¯s Durrenheim branch will go bankrupt.¡± Mid-sip, Aya choked on the water as she tried to swallow it all at once. ¡°Wait,¡± she said, coughing. ¡°What do you¡­ How!? We¡¯ve barely been at this for one day¡­ I mean, I¡¯d hoped, but I hadn¡¯t expected it to go this well, or this fast¡­¡± ¡°This is not attributable to you,¡± he said stealing her thunder in one fell swoop. ¡°This branch has already been on the path to demise for a long time.¡± ¡°But what about the¡ª¡± ¡°The players they are bringing in from different regions?¡± he asked. Aya nodded. ¡°It was a last-ditch effort,¡± he said. ¡°It would have worked if you had not decided to take over the weapons market.¡± ¡°Why is that?¡± ¡°They have a debt they are paying off at the bank¡ª¡± ¡°Durrenheim City Bank?¡± Aya asked excitedly. ¡°Is there another?¡± Donovan asked flatly. ¡°¡­Sorry.¡± He nodded, took another sip of tea and said, ¡°As it stands now, they are going to default on too many payments to stay afloat until the new players arrive.¡± ¡°How were new players going to bail them out?¡± Aya asked, genuinely curious as to how Yaz would be used by the guild. ¡°Different guilds have different rules,¡± Donovan said simply. ¡°Some have high buy-ins and fealty percentages.¡± ¡°Fealty¡­ Like, a cut from what you make?¡± Donovan sighed and shook his head, ¡°Do not ask questions you know the answer to. It is quite annoying.¡± Aya wanted to know what else he thought was annoying, but contained herself. ¡°I will be going now,¡± Donovan said, putting a couple coppers on the table as he got up from his chair. ¡°Do not contact me unnecessarily.¡± Aya didn¡¯t even bother coming up with a farewell as she knew the boy wouldn¡¯t care one way or another. Instead, she took out her notebook and wrote all the information down. As a visual person, she¡¯d always thought better with the facts laid out in front of her. Yaz had said it would still take some time for the new guild members to arrive. It all made sense, now that she thought about it. Teleportation portals did exist, but they were expensive and not really easily affordable until you reached at least level fifty. For a guild that was on its last legs financially, it didn¡¯t make any sense to blow all the money on travel when they could move them all together. The fact that caught most of her attention though, was the guild¡¯s loan defaults. Aya had loans herself, and she¡¯d basically put herself up as collateral. A collateral she wouldn¡¯t be able to afford if her Era time was limited, but focusing on that wasn¡¯t helping her cause. No, what she really needed to do was pay Qanelin a visit. The day¡¯s heat hit her like a brick wall in its subtlety. She was pouring sweat two steps out the door, already regretting the gold she¡¯d have to spend on replenishing fluids. Buying water in the main square was no longer an option; her reputation in Durrenheim was so bad that the prices would be at an extortionist level and the location was too visible to Serving Time. Aya kept to the side of the market, close to the buildings, partially motivated by the cover it gave her, but even more motivated by the shade it provided. The cloak was chafing at her and she was already sorely regretting her purchase when she made it to the bank. ¡°Welcome back¡­. Miss Aya,¡± Qanelin greeted her, still unsure of how exactly to address her. ¡°Hi¡­¡± she said as he showed her inside. ¡°To what do I owe this pleasure?¡± ¡°Business as usual,¡± she replied. ¡°I was actually thinking of looking into some new investments, since my current ones have started making me some nice returns¡­¡± Qanelin lifted an eyebrow and looked simultaneously curious and distressed. ¡°Well¡­ Miss, I am very glad things are working out for you¡­¡± he said. ¡°In fact, I would be quite happy to go over your books with you.¡± He made his way to the little stand by the side of the study, where he poured them each a glass of water. Aya noticed deep sweat stains on the man¡¯s clothing, and filed the information away. Qanelin was uncomfortable about something and she wondered whether she could use it to her advantage or if it would work against her. It remained to be seen. ¡°No, that is alright,¡± Aya said. ¡°I actually just want to talk to you about a new venture I have become aware of.¡± Qanelin gave her a glass and sat down behind his desk before he spoke. ¡°And what venture would that be?¡± ¡°Have you heard of¡­¡± Aya began, but then stopped herself. ¡°Is this conversation confidential?¡± ¡°W-Why, yes!¡± the man spluttered. ¡°Then you won¡¯t mind if I add it to our Contract?¡± Aya asked in what she hoped came across as a deferential tone. Qanelin didn¡¯t look too pleased, which probably wasn¡¯t a good beginning to negotiations, but she couldn¡¯t have anyone, especially Serving Time, finding out about what she was planning before it was done. It took him a minute to locate the Contract and another for her to make the small addition. ¡°Alright,¡± said Qanelin with a slight scowl as sweat dripped down his face. ¡°Are you ready to tell me about this secretive venture of yours?¡± ¡°Actually, I was hoping you could¡­¡± Aya said, uncertain about how to phrase her next words. ¡°I heard that Serving Time has an account with you.¡± ¡°Perhaps¡­¡± Qanelin said noncommittally, but the way he intoned the words almost like a question gave away his interest. She waited a second, crossing her legs to fill the silence, in case he decided to give away any information. Doris had taught her that much, but when he didn¡¯t say anything for nearly a minute, she realized the bait wasn¡¯t quite right yet. ¡°I heard, from a trusted source,¡± Aya said slowly. ¡°That they are about to default on their loan with you¡­¡± Qanelin¡¯s eyebrows shot up. ¡°Who told you that?¡± ¡°Oh,¡± Aya said off-handedly. ¡°A little bird told me.¡± The banker frowned, but she saw his eyes seriously consider her words for the first time. ¡°And this interests you¡­¡± he asked. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°I was hoping to take on the loa¡ª¡± ¡°Impossible,¡± he said, cutting her off. ¡°I am sorry, but you are already overdrawn as it is. In fact, I don¡¯t know how I ever let you convince me to sign off on the deal that we made.¡± ¡°But our deal has been going quite well, don¡¯t you think?¡± ¡°It hasn¡¯t even been three days.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never missed a payment though,¡± she argued. ¡°You can¡¯t say the same for them.¡± ¡°Again, three days,¡± he said. ¡°Three days won¡¯t give you a good credit rating. Months of regular payments will.¡± Aya looked in his eyes and realized that she wasn¡¯t going to get him to budge. The more she pushed him in the state that he was in, the more he would resist her. ¡°Ok then,¡± Aya said. ¡°What do I have to do to get my credit rating up so you can trust me?¡± ¡°Make regular payments,¡± he said matter-of-factly. ¡°Well, I need something faster,¡± she said. ¡°something that will change my rating now.¡± Qanelin outright laughed at her proposal. ¡°Unless you get someone to co-sign your loan with you,¡± he said, ¡°we won¡¯t be able to get you anything. Now, if you¡¯ll¡ª¡± ¡°Is there any other way?¡± Aya asked. ¡°Any other way at all?¡± ¡°No,¡± Qanelin said. ¡°Unless you¡¯re able to pay off all your debts today, I won¡¯t be able to help you. Perhaps you can join a guild that will help you.¡± Aya perked up at his last words. ¡°A guild?¡± she asked, getting to her feet as well. ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°Guilds can have funds, in fact they almost always have funds. They need to cover many guild costs. Depending on how big the guild is¡­ some even offer spousal support.¡± ¡°But what you¡¯re saying is, my credit rating won¡¯t affect that of the guild?¡± ¡°It will,¡± he said. ¡°But if you have enough people with good ratings to counteract it¡­¡± ¡°So,¡± Aya said, finally getting the man¡¯s attention. ¡°If I come back later with a guild¡­.¡± She could see the objection the banker wanted to make so she added, ¡°¡­ That can afford it.¡± He was appeased. ¡°Then you¡¯ll consider my offer?¡± ¡°If you have a guild, and if it can afford it¡­¡± and just like that, the greedy spark was back in the man¡¯s eyes. ¡°I see no reason as to why we should not do business once again.¡± Aya grinned, shook the man¡¯s sweaty hand and left the bank. Now all she had to do was find a guild to join. Chapter 44 Metropolis - Goldilocks: Capsule Bay 57 - Unit 4 Tuesday, May 12th, 2089 | 11:16am Finding a guild was proving to be a lot harder than Aya had anticipated. The first place she had checked was JailBait, but they¡¯d turned her away before she¡¯d even finished saying her name. Apparently, the two guilds had a mutual understanding to stay out of each other''s way. There were enough Regs to go around for them not to have to go at each other''s throats. It was a weird truce, but it ruled that option out from the get-go. Luckily, she¡¯d tried contacting them over Forum first just in case something like that happened. She wanted to keep her location secret from Serving Time for as long as she could. There was no way of knowing if they already knew she had made it into town, but she wasn¡¯t going to put it to the test. Having discarded the only other convict guild she could think of, Aya checked the forums for any other guilds that were recruiting in the area. Some, she immediately rejected for seeming too immature, small, weak, poor or just downright dumb. Others, turned her down before even going through an interview process. This was mostly due to her convict status, but the Forum fiasco surely didn¡¯t help. It was also slowly getting around that she¡¯d stirred the hornet¡¯s nest when it came to Serving Time and everyone wanted to keep their distance, much in the same way Donovan did. A full two hours later, she still had nothing. She was at her wit¡¯s end when she got a message from Foot. In it was a large screen shot of a slain horse-like beast with an alligator snout and scales. The background was a swamp of some kind, a totally different environment than Aya had grown used to. It was green and wet. [Cool right!?] Was the message attached to the picture. [Very!] Aya replied, shook her head and laughed. The kid had left saying he was going to slay bad guys, but she wasn¡¯t sure how swamp monsters qualified. If he really wanted to kill bad guys¡­ The moment the thought occurred to her, she sat up straighter. She¡¯d been planning to form her own guild later on the line, but what was stopping her from doing it now? If no other guilds would take her, it only made sense for her to make her own. The only issue was, she was going to have to find people that could afford the war she was about to start. Aya took out her Contact list and sighed at the paltry number of players on it. First, she sent a message to Foot and Frank, as they were the highest level players she knew and probably the ones with a decent amount of gold. In addition, they did not seem to care about inciting a war with Serving Time. The offhanded way in which they killed a party of Serving Time members, which caused them to be labeled as PKers, was either incredibly admirable or incredibly stupid. Aya chose to interpret it the first way lest she convince herself that only insane people would form a guild with. She needed to take what she could get. Next on the list of invitations were Xavier and Obelisk, both of whom turned her down because of their own guilds. She sent a message to Asterisk as well, just in case the orc decided to join when she logged on, but doubted the woman would do it when Obelisk didn¡¯t. Donovan, she didn¡¯t even bother messaging. Aya knew very well what his stance on the Serving Time subject was. She then carefully scrolled through the rest of her Contacts, mostly people she¡¯d Contracted for small jobs here and there over the last couple of days, complete beginners for the most part. For her guild plan to work, she would need enough players with good credit ratings to counteract her own extremely negative one. New players, with no credit history to speak of, weren¡¯t very useful in that regard, but at this point, she might not even be able to get the minimum guild requirement of five players to join. Currently, she had one, including herself. Over the next ten minutes, she formulated invites to the rest of her Contact list, including the beginner players. Aya was deflated. She¡¯d walked into a random pub to avoid the public as much as possible. Things weren¡¯t so peachy for her as it was and she didn¡¯t need Serving Time to find her and make things worse. She¡¯d almost finished going through the entire list when she came across MageSlayer. His review had left a special place in her heart, but in that moment all she cared about was the fact that he and his friends were accountants. From her experience with them, she knew their combat abilities were even worse than her own, which were already very poor. They had obvious drawbacks and weaknesses, MageSlayer being one, but Aya still wanted to smack herself in the face for not thinking of them before. If there was one group of people she could incentivize to join her guild with a financial plan, it would be accountants. She was a bit reticent about laying all of her cards on the table. There was also the added danger of Serving Time finding out about her plan while they could still do something about it, but she did it anyway. In order to gain the accountants¡¯ trust, she gave them all the details of her plan and asked for input, if they had any, considering it was mainly relying on a financial takeover. Aya had half-expected them all to be at work at this time of the day and was thus surprised when MageSlayer and Emry, two of the accountants, quickly replied to her PM. MageSlayer: I just read your proposal. I wanted to reject it, but Emry sent it out to our colleagues before I could stop her. Unfortunately, that means we will be working together. I don¡¯t trust you though, so you¡¯re going to have to sign a Contract before we do anything together. Emry: Thank you for thinking of us. I¡¯d be honored to join your guild. Aya still didn¡¯t like Marvin, the mage. She wanted to tell him to shove it where the light didn¡¯t shine, but forced herself to remain calm. The chafing of her cloak was really getting to her and she just wanted the whole process to be over already. Aya: Ok. With the four of you and me, we should be able to register our guild before I get the other players organized. She replied, trying to avoid as much conflict as possible while pretending to have everything on the fast track to success. She actually didn¡¯t know if Foot and Frank would join her at all, but what was the point of defeating guild-confidence before it even existed. Marvin replied a couple minutes later. MageSlayer: I got Esteell and Midas to send in their guild acceptance forms, so now we just have to go to the GuildHall. Let¡¯s meet there in ten minutes. Aya still didn¡¯t like the man¡¯s abrasive nature, but she consoled herself with the fact that he could be usable as a paper-pusher. She liked him less than Emry, but he had been more useful up to that point. Emry remained silent after her initial message and Aya was surprised to see both MageSlayer and her in front of the GuildHall. The mage barely waited for Aya before he started walking into the large, old building. The female warrior on the other hand, bowed her head and gestured deferentially for Aya to proceed first. Aya barely remembered the woman from their questing together and now she finally knew why: the woman was a mouse, afraid of leaving a shadow. Aya had no idea why the woman had chosen to be a warrior, but just about any other class would have suited her more. Soon distracted by the building¡¯s arched mosaic windows and massive, ancient wooden door, Aya went inside. The old building was a lot more impressive than the library had been. Its age and architecture pressed upon her, making it harder to breathe. Aya had never seen a building like it in her life. The ceilings were so high, she could barely make out the detailed carvings on the stone. ¡°Stop gawking!¡± MageSlayer snapped. ¡°You look like a preschooler who''s just gotten their first pair of glasses.¡± Aya gave him a confused look, not knowing why he cared. ¡°It¡¯s embarrassing!¡± he growled under his breath, grabbing her firmly by the wrist and pulling her forward. Aya had seen the building from the outside and knew it to be huge, so she was surprised to reach a counter not far from the entrance. Squinting, she looked around at the walls, trying to figure out if they just made the room look like it took up the whole building. During her inspection, MageSlayer walked up to the counter, slammed his hand down and said, ¡°We¡¯re here to register a guild!¡± The old robed woman behind the counter raised an eyebrow at the man¡¯s behavior. Aya cringed and watched the old woman set aside the scroll she was reading to deal with the mage. It was obvious from the pulsing vein on her forehead that the man had already gotten on her nerves. The counter they stood at spanned the whole room with five attendants spaced equally apart. Two others were also occupied with small groups of players, and another with a literal horde of over twenty players. Aya thought it was overkill to bring so many people to the guild-registering process, but she hadn¡¯t spent much time researching in it so she had no clue if it was normal or not. ¡°How many of you are there?¡± the old woman asked from behind the counter. ¡°Seven,¡± MageSlayer answered before Aya could speak up. He didn¡¯t even ask Aya to confirm before announcing it. Flustered, Aya could only hope that Foot would agree to join her guild. As if hearing her thoughts, she got a message from the boy in that exact moment. [I¡¯ve always wanted a guild! But Frank has never been a people person. He likes you though. He doesn¡¯t like Serving Time. He doesn¡¯t like convicts.] Aya read the message and let out a relieved sigh. She was touched. She knew that the kid probably didn¡¯t realize that what Frank had said about convicts actually included her, but decided to disregard it. In that moment, she was just relieved that things had worked out. She had no way of knowing until the guild registration process was complete, but she was almost certain that the accountants¡¯ slightly positive financial standings, combined with Foot¡¯s and Frank¡¯s overly positive ones, would be able to counteract the sinkhole that was hers. At least, enough to take out another loan. ¡°Who is going to be your GuildMaster?¡± the woman asked flatly. ¡°Me, that is, MageSl¡ª¡± ¡°Wait, wait, wait, hold on!¡± Aya said, almost missing out on the exchange because of Foot¡¯s message. ¡°That¡¯s not what we agreed on. I¡¯m creating this guild, I will be GuildMaster.¡± Aya wasn¡¯t sure what the GuildMaster duties would be, but she wasn¡¯t about to be led by the pompous, self-righteous ass in front of her. ¡°The strongest should be GuildMaster,¡± he said with an air of superiority. ¡°You are level fifteen. I am level eighteen. You do the math.¡± ¡°Oh, I did do the math,¡± Aya answered, trying to keep her general annoyance at the day at bay. ¡°And by my count, the players I recruited are at a way higher level than you. So, by your ¡®math¡¯¡± she said, using air quotation marks to make her point, ¡°one of them should be in charge.¡± ¡°How do I even know you¡¯re telling the truth about them?¡± MageSlayer asked. ¡°I brought along our teammates¡¯ forms, have you?¡± Aya quickly sent them out and hoped that Frank and Foot would be quick to reply. ¡°I don¡¯t appreciate the way you¡¯re speaking to me.¡± Aya saw Emry biting her lip from the corner of her vision. ¡°Do your teammates know you¡¯re behaving like this? Maybe I should find other people to team up with.¡± ¡°You wouldn¡¯t¡­¡± MageSlayer said, but Aya saw the uncertainty in his eyes. ¡°If you did, we¡¯d broadcast your shitty little plan all around town!¡± Emry: No, we wouldn¡¯t. Surprised, Aya looked back at the woman to see a little glint of steel in her eyes before she blinked, looked away and lowered her head. ¡°You do that,¡± Aya said, bluffing as she turned around to leave. It took three nerve-wracking steps for the mage to speak up again. ¡°All right! All right, fine!¡± Aya turned around to see his pissed-off face. ¡°But in that case, I get to do the negotiations at the bank. I don¡¯t trust you,¡± he said, squinting suspiciously at her, as if his words hadn¡¯t already made the point. ¡°The feeling is mutual,¡± Aya returned coolly. She really didn¡¯t want the mage in charge of negotiations. If the proceedings in the Guildhall so far had been anything to go by, he had absolutely no sense, tact or feeling for other people¡¯s emotions. A drop of sweat ran into her eye, stinging it with salt. Added on top of the general discomfort of the day, her mood just turned from foul to worse. She looked up at MageSlayer, wanting to get into an argument to put Marvin in his place. She even opened her mouth, ready to let him have it, but at the last moment, she saw Emry and decided against it. She¡¯d gotten what she wanted, and if she had to make a little compromise now, it surely couldn¡¯t go that badly. ¡°Fine,¡± she said, already regretting it. Aya stepped forward to continue the guild registration process with the now-very-annoyed woman behind the counter, when the mage put an arm forward, barring her progress. ¡°No, not fine,¡± he said. ¡°First, you show me the forms from these high-level friends you claim to have and then you sign a Contract with the terms about the negotiation.¡± Aya imagined herself kneeing the man in the balls. It calmed her enough to take a deep breath and give him a forced smile. He was an irritating man for sure, but she wasn¡¯t about to let her emotions get the better of her, especially when a big chunk of it was attributable to her current physical comfort. Aya adjusted her robe.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Fine,¡± she said, taking out a Contract. ¡°How do I know these Contracts of yours even wor¡ª¡± he stopped when he noticed Aya¡¯s steely look. ¡°Fine,¡± he said. It took them another five minutes to agree on the final terms of the Contract, but they finally both signed it and moved on. Aya had to give up the right to even utter a word during the later negotiations with Qanelin, but she comforted herself with the fact that Marvin was an accountant in real life. Surely, he could not completely suck at financial negotiations. He also had a point when he said that three people were one too many when it came to negotiating. She drew the line at being present, though. She wouldn¡¯t be able to go against any decisions Marvin made, but she wasn¡¯t about to let the guy go unsupervised. Walking up to the counter for what would hopefully be the final time, Aya noticed that the old woman was gone. Looking around, she spotted her discussing something with another attendant. Aya tried to get her attention, but she said, ¡°One moment please,¡± holding up a finger. ¡°I¡¯ll be right with you.¡± It took the woman ten minutes, but Aya figured she probably deserved it after the spectacle she and MageSlayer had created. What goes around, comes around. ¡°Do you have at least five Outwolders?¡± the woman asked, annoyance still clouding her voice. ¡°I see only three.¡± ¡°Yes, we do,¡± Aya said, gesturing MageSlayer forward with his forms. Simultaneously, she checked her inbox and was relieved to see the two forms along with a short message from Foot. [Let¡¯s be the Slayer Guardians!] ¡°What will be the name of the guild?¡± ¡°¡­Slayer Guardians,¡± Aya said. ¡°What th¡ª¡± MageSlayer began. ¡°You got all your requests, now it¡¯s the other player''s turn,¡± Aya said calmly, as if handing out instructions at kindergarten. ¡°That sounds like some kid came up with it,¡± MageSlayer said derisively, crossing his arms. ¡°What is he, twelve?¡± ¡°No,¡± Aya said rolling her eyes externally and internally thinking it was probably closer to ten. ¡°Do I have to remind you that your name is MageSlayer? I thought you¡¯d be happy with the name.¡± His eyes widened, his face reddened, his mouth opened, but no words came out. ¡°Everything is set,¡± the woman behind the counter said. ¡°Now if the GuildMaster, and only the GuildMaster,¡± the woman said doling out her own derision, ¡°would come with me.¡± Aya nodded and followed, leaving her two new guildmates behind. The old woman with tiny spectacles led her around the counter and through a small door. It was surprising to see something so small in a place that had been so ostentatious about everything else. Or at least, that is what Aya thought before she walked through the small and simple wooden door. It was pitch black and several degrees cooler than it had been outside. The moment the door closed behind them, there was absolutely no light in the room. She couldn¡¯t even begin to guess at the dimensions of the room, let alone anything else. ¡°I will take your hand now,¡± the woman said moments before her dry, papery skin touched hers. Aya was relieved the woman had announced her intention, sure she would have screamed otherwise. The woman started pulling Aya in a direction away from the door. It wasn¡¯t directly forwards, but it was the general direction in which they moved. ¡°Stop now.¡± Aya stopped, surprised at how short the distance they traveled had been. ¡°I will leave you now,¡± the woman lifted Aya¡¯s hand and put it on something cool and smooth; it felt like a metal bar of some sort. ¡°This is a door handle. This door leads to the Room of Choices. Open it once the door behind me closes and there is no light impurity left.¡± ¡°¡­Ok,¡± Aya answered, feeling like a response was expected of her. Aya then heard the woman¡¯s footsteps as she walked back in the direction they¡¯d come from. Moments later, the door opened, blinding her with the sudden light. By the time her eyes adjusted enough to take in the features of the room, the door was already clicking shut. Sighing, she blinked and waited for her eyes to once more get used to the darkness. She wished she¡¯d spent some time looking into the guild creation process because, as it stood, she had no idea what awaited her behind the doors. Taking a deep breath, she steeled her spine and pressed down on the door handle. Aya had no idea about what she¡¯d been expecting, but it definitely wasn¡¯t what she found. The room was also completely dark, hiding any features it could have had. Her mouth gaped open anyway when she saw spheres of blue and white lights floating around the room, dozens of feet into the air. She knew the building was tall, but not that tall. It was architecturally impossible. Are you ready to begin your Guild Configuration? Yes | No A window appeared, and she was forced to take her eyes off the glowing spheres and concentrate on the task at hand. [Yes] The window dissolved into a stream of blue and white light, much like the ones making up the other spheres in the room. Then the stream surrounded Aya and also became spherical in shape before lifting her off the ground and taking her away from the door where she entered. Looking around, she realized that each floating sphere had a person doing their customizations in it. Luckily she couldn¡¯t see anything else in the room, not even exactly how far from the ground she was. Welcome, Slayer Guardian GuildMaster! Brought back to the moment, Aya read the notification and sighed, but she refused to agree with MageSlayer on the point and merely rolled her eyes before reading the rest of the message. There are some tasks that lie outside the realm of possibility for the individual. These same tasks are often made possible by multiple individuals standing together as one. There is power in numbers. Don¡¯t try to conquer Corruption by yourself; you will fail as many before you have. Era became a target the moment its most important group, the Gatekeepers, fell apart. Let this be a lesson and a constant reminder of the importance of teamwork through the rest of your journey in Era. Now, please, it is time to choose a coat of arms for your group of hardy companions. Unity is important. There is unity in a name, Slayer Guardian, but there is also unity in an image. Choose carefully, for this cannot be modified in any way. First, she was given the option of colors. She chose white and dark blue. Then she was asked to choose or customize her coat of arms. Initially, she started customizing it using the building blocks given to her. She figured Foot would like something that had swords and lions on it and five minutes later, she realized she was turning it into a mess, trying to guess at what a five-year-old would want in an emblem. Sighing, she deleted it and started from scratch, choosing the completely separate option of drawing it out herself. Aya chose to use the dark blue as the background color and the base shape of a shield. It might be a little too cliche, considering the Guardians thing, but Aya thought that Foot would enjoy it. She also did it so she wouldn¡¯t feel too guilty for taking liberties with the rest of the design. As an artist, she just couldn¡¯t let an image she was associated with be a terrible mismatch of ridiculous cliches. She wanted to draw something meaningful and deep, but the more she thought about it, the more elusive the concept became. By the time she was about ready to tear her hair out, Henry squawked at her feet and Aya looked down. She frowned at him for disturbing her concentration, but then a thought occurred to her. If the name was a joke and the background was a joke, the coat of arms might as well be a joke that they could all enjoy as well. Aya knew how Foot felt about Henry, and for some reason she wanted to please the boy with a surprise. She wouldn¡¯t be where she was without all of the selflessness he had displayed. Perhaps it was just an innocence and age thing, but she appreciated it nonetheless. Aya was careful and spent the next ten minutes capturing Henry¡¯s essence for the coat of arms using white on the dark blue shield background. Then she handed it in and was asked a couple of questions about the values of the guild. It would probably be used to characterize their guilds as mercenaries, cut-throats, professionals, and other groups that guilds used to identify themselves. Aya carefully directed her answers to portray the guild as carefree adventure-seekers, one of the broader categories she¡¯d come across. Serving Time was after her and her prison mates could be an eventual problem; basically, she wanted to avoid the spotlight for as long as she could. Next, she was given options about what positions to give and who she wanted to appoint to them. Having absolutely no clue about what to do without more information, she was glad to see the option of skipping that step. It was something she¡¯d have to look into. Finally, she came to the end of the configurations. The Slayer Guardians are now fully set up. You now have a final chance to go back and change anything you want. Would you like to change anything, or are you ready to fight against Corruption? Aya wanted to tell the game to shove it. She¡¯d been scavenging for every copper from the moment she¡¯d arrived, trying to be more of a profitable player. All this lore about Corruption meant nothing to her; what she really needed was some hard gold. She selected the ¡®Yes¡¯ option anyway. The lights in the glowing sphere around her started to move more and more quickly, spinning her around as they clashed and whirled, creating little clashing light shows all around her. Aya felt like she¡¯d been swept up into a storm and was watching as lightning battled itself all around her, and soon enough, she was falling. It took her less than a second to recognize the falling feeling as the same one she¡¯d felt during her Teleportation skill. Another second and she was standing in front of her two guildmates. Emry looked bored, but MageSlayer was downright pissed. The moment he saw her, he uncrossed his arms, headed towards her, grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her along with him towards the exit. ¡°Could you have taken any longer?¡± he asked in clipped tones. ¡°I¡¯ve seen like five guilds come and go while you were in there doing God-knows¡­¡± Aya looked back just in time to see another GuildMaster pop into existence out of thin air. The tall, thin robed man looked about as daze as she felt. She had no time to examine him any further, as MageSlayer pulled her through the GuildHall¡¯s doors a moment later. ¡°Which way?¡± he asked brusquely. ¡°To the bank?¡± ¡°No, to the cemetery,¡± he mocked. ¡°There¡¯s only one bank in Durrenheim,¡± Aya said trying to keep her patience about her. The small reprieve the guild customization process had given her was already wearing out. ¡°Yeah? That¡¯s great,¡± the mage said rolling his eyes. ¡°Where is it?¡± The moment Aya realized the man had never made a transaction with Qanelin or even been to the bank, she started regretting the Contract she¡¯d signed. She wouldn¡¯t be able to contribute to negotiations, not even when her reputation with the banker was much better than MageSlayers, meaning existent. Furthermore, she couldn¡¯t believe an accountant had made it to level 18 in the game without visiting the bank. Aya was not looking forward to the meeting as they made their way through the winding streets in the direction of the bank. Fifteen minutes later, Aya found herself in front of the Durrenheim City Bank with two guild members by her side. All three of them had their coat of arms displayed on top of them. Aya¡¯s was right next to her convict status. While she could see both Emry¡¯s and MageSlayer¡¯s, she knew that you couldn¡¯t see that of players outside your guild unless they expressly chose to reveal it. Most guilds didn¡¯t. The only way Aya ever discovered if a convict was part of Serving Time was through association and guesswork, not their guild symbol. In fact, having never paid it much attention, Aya wasn¡¯t even sure what it was. ¡°Are you sure about this?¡± Aya asked, turning her attention to MageSlayer. ¡°I could still do the negotiations. There is a Contract, I won¡¯t¡ª¡± ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t think you¡¯re capable of running away with the gold. Don¡¯t worry,¡± MageSlayer said. ¡°I just don¡¯t want you to waste it is all.¡± ¡°¡­¡± with nothing to say in response, Aya just followed mutely in tow as they made their way to the bank and then into Qanelin¡¯s study. Happy to be inside, and away from prying eyes, Aya took off the scratchy cloak. She was drenched with sweat and knew she must look quite the sight, but she doubted her exterior even began to express how she was feeling at that very moment. As they sat down, Aya noticed the time. With less than half an hour before Goldilock¡¯s lunch time, she brought up a countdown clock in her overlay. All that she could do was to keep an eye on it and hope that MageSlayer was as good as negotiating as he thought he was. ¡°Well,¡± Qanelin said, talking to her. ¡°That was fast.¡± ¡°Yes, I¡ª¡± Aya said. ¡°Ya-da. Ya-da,¡± MageSlayer interrupted. ¡°He¡¯s an NPC; don¡¯t bother.¡± MageSlayer then turned to Qanelin and said, ¡°You¡¯re talking to me now. Let¡¯s get down to business.¡± The banker looked both shocked and insulted by the interruption. Aya wanted to punch her new guild member in the face, but she controlled herself. ¡°Yes, Miss Aya told me she was interested in¡ª¡± Qanelin began again, trying to resurrect the civility MageSlayer had so effectively eradicated. ¡°Serving Time¡¯s loan, yes. No need to repeat all that,¡± MageSlayer said flatly. ¡°Why don¡¯t you just tell me the specifics of the loan already. The term, the interest, the time frame, the payment schedule¡­¡± ¡°¡­Certainly,¡± Qanelin said. Aya watched as all emotion fled the banker¡¯s face. She sighed, knowing that the accountant had just squashed any and all desire Qanelin had of making them a good deal. The hardest part of watching MageSlayer do the negotiations was knowing that she couldn¡¯t stop him. The mage had made it quite clear that he was to be in charge of negotiations. Had any of the other two accountants, Esteell or Ashworth been along, Aya doubted she would be having the same problem. Emry was as passive as any person Aya had ever met. Aya doubted the female human warrior would do anything even if the woman disapproved of MageSlayer¡¯s actions. Unable to contain herself, Aya opened her mouth and spoke. ¡°Wai¡ª¡± Not even a second after she tried speaking, her tongue froze and Aya experienced worst pain she¡¯d ever felt zapped through her body in the space of a moment. Her entire mana bar was depleted with her near-breach of Contract. Knowing her health bar would be next, Aya scowled, crossed her arms and tried not to witness the horrendous scene in front of her. The mage had a smug grin on his face while he once more resumed his conversation with the banker as if she wasn¡¯t even there, ¡°You said the guild still owed how much?¡± ¡°428,000 gold,¡± Qanelin replied. ¡°But their guild was valued at a lot more than that.¡± ¡°How much?¡± MageSlayer asked, not giving the banker time to elaborate. ¡°1.4 Million gold,¡± Qanelin said, and again, before he could elaborate, MageSlayer was already speaking again. ¡°Oh, wow,¡± he said. ¡°That¡¯s a great deal.¡± Aya wanted to bang her head against the wall. Negotiations 101: never, ever, ever agree to the initial offer. Negotiations 102: never, ever, ever seem excited about a deal; always walk away looking slightly put off, even if you¡¯re not. Aya strangled a sigh. There was absolutely nothing she could do other than to learn from the mistake. Contracts 101: never make stupid deals with stupid people. ¡°It is,¡± Qanelin said, triumphant excitement beading in his eyes. ¡°We¡¯ll make you a great deal for 500,000 gold, even.¡± ¡°500,000?¡± MageSlayer exclaimed, getting Aya¡¯s hopes up, thinking he was about to try to negotiate. ¡°That¡¯s great! I thought for sure it would be more¡­¡± Or not. Aya could feel the blood pounding in her head as she tried to contain her irritation. Aya saw a vein in Qanelin¡¯s forehead twitch, but didn¡¯t comment. Apparently, it was an emotion they both shared. She wanted to strangle Marvin, the accountant, as the documents were signed. Did the man not see the signs? The bank was on its last legs; the last thing it needed was to chase after some defaulted loan. If he¡¯d agreed to pay upfront what they had now as a guild, which was 189,000, he would have been able to cut the price in almost half. They would have walked away from the bank with almost no debt. Instead, they walked away with huge interest payments that they would need to make in the very near future just piling onto her already very volatile situation. Even further in debt, she was ready to strangle MageSlayer as she walked out of the bank. To top it off, had to put up with his smug attitude. ¡°Well,¡± he said, smile wide on his face, ¡°that went well.¡± Aya wanted to scream at him, or at least shove his head into a wall, but instead she just smiled blandly. She was GuildMaster now and he wasn¡¯t going to be able to screw anything else up. She needed to get her hands on the Guild rules and make sure that bozo never got near any of the finances again. Emry looked at her apologetically, showing that while totally spineless, she wasn¡¯t nearly as daft as her friend. Aya sighed, not sure what kind of people she¡¯d gathered to be in her guild. In her plans, she¡¯d always imagined a group full of strong individuals, hand-picked for their particular skills in battle, negotiation, intelligence and other strengths, but in the end, all she ended up doing was gathering as many people as she could to fill ranks. She sighed and left the accountants the first chance she got. The Guild channel was a new addition to her overlay and she would need to spend some time going over the configurations, but first, she had some real stuff to take care of. As she watched the timer she¡¯d set up dwindle to zero, she tried to comfort herself with the fact that MageSlayer had at least made the negotiations go by quickly. It didn¡¯t work; she wasn¡¯t comforted. Chapter 45 Metropolis - Goldilocks: Capsule Bay 57 - Unit 4 Tuesday, May 12th, 2089 | 11:45am Chris logged out and the first thing she felt as she readjusted to her body was comfort. Relief washed through her as she adjusted to the nice room temperature and moisture level. Her b-link still provided her with nice soothing scenery; the prairie had changed to a sunny forest. She turned the smell settings up to max again, enjoying the fresh smell in the air. Chris had never realized how much she¡¯d taken for granted until just then. She also knew exactly what she would do the moment she stepped foot into Era: buy a new cloak. Taking a few steps forward, Chris shook the stiffness out of her body in what was growing to be a habitual motion. She¡¯d seen women do it on the first day, but hadn¡¯t felt the need to do it herself. Her body really wasn¡¯t suffering from any kind of problems from lack of motion, but moving around helped reorient her mind with her real body. She was rotating her head, trying to adjust while simultaneously looking for Sid, when the customary platter of nutri-packs appeared before her. ¡°I¡¯ve got vomit in a bag,¡± said the sweet, honeyed voice, gesturing at the nutri-packs ¡°and puke in a bag. Might I interest you in either?¡± Chris¡¯ stomach revolted at the sight of the bags. Sid¡¯s large brown eyes twinkled in amusement, making it hard for Chris to get annoyed. The woman¡¯s features were so symmetrical, so perfect, it was hard to be angry at her. ¡°Hey, that¡¯s not funny,¡± she complained, feeling queasy. ¡°I¡¯m gonna have to drink that, you know?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t mean eat?¡± ¡°Oh, shut up!¡± Chris said, lips twitching in amusement as she reached for one. Chris had forgotten how easy it was to get along with the woman. ¡°So, a little bird told me,¡± Sid said, brushing back a strand of hair that had escaped her French braid, ¡°that little Barbie wanted to talk to me.¡± ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Chris said, downing half the pack while searching the room for the guard. Once she¡¯d located the middle-aged woman wearing the prescription plastic goggles, she resumed her conversation with Sid. ¡°Actually,¡± Chris began again, finding her train of thought. ¡°I did. I wanted to ask you about Era.¡± It was a straightforward question, probably the most straightforward question she¡¯d asked since coming to Goldilocks, but for some reason she just trusted - or at least wanted to trust - the woman in front of her. Perhaps it had something to do with her striking beauty and flawless skin, but Chris hoped she wasn¡¯t as superficial as all that. ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Chris said, slightly discouraged the woman hadn¡¯t immediately began talking. ¡°Last time you told me that I¡¯d have to¡ª¡± ¡°Make it to at least level seven on the first day?¡± ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Chris said, nodding, ¡°and I just wanted to know how you know that.¡± Sid raised a perfectly arched eyebrow, making Chris realize her poor word and tone choice. ¡°Well, you see¡ª¡± ¡°Sorry,¡± Chris said, interrupting the woman in order to apologize, ¡°I didn¡¯t mean for it to come out like that¡­ And I didn¡¯t mean to interrupt you just now¡­ It¡¯s just¡­ been a really long day.¡± Sid nodded slowly as understanding flooded her expression, softening her features even more. Her face was absolutely mesmerizing and Chris found herself sinking into it, as if Sid was made out of cotton candy. ¡°I think,¡± Sid said looking around at the guard, ¡°you¡¯d better drink up and let me talk.¡± Chris nodded and tipped back the rest of the nutri-pack while Sid spoke. ¡°I know a lot more than I need to about Era, this is true,¡± Sid smiled kindly. ¡°But what would you do with your time if you were buried in a hole that had all its resources directed at a game? Sure, I can¡¯t actually participate, but what else am I going to do? Even the b-links don¡¯t work on me, so all those books¡ª¡± ¡°Wait,¡± Chris said. ¡°What do you mean b-links don¡¯t¡ª¡± ¡°Just that,¡± Sid said walking toward another woman who had just logged out. She came back a moment later, having handed over the nutripack, and continued the conversation as if she¡¯d never interrupted it in the first place. ¡°See this?¡± Sid took the platter and wedged it between her left arm and hip so she could display her right arm with the b-link. It had a line of glowing blue light and looked just as active as Chris¡¯ from the outside. She raised her own to compare. ¡°All the physical stuff still works, so like¡­ heart-rate, temperature, perspiration, hormones, calories, vitamins, sleep and all that other jazz is recorded just fine,¡± Sid said. ¡°But when it comes to all the other stuff, like all the windows and settings you see¡­ I don¡¯t get any of that.¡± The woman shrugged and Chris was immediately empathetic towards her. Something about her just made you want to be her best friend immediately. She was so genuine and real compared to all the other inmates. Then again, it might just be a result of Chris seeing her through the lens of someone who had no self-interest in Era. ¡°Wow,¡± Chris said, letting her brain process Sid¡¯s words. ¡°I didn¡¯t even realize that the b-links had anything to do with the Era hardware¡­¡± ¡°Well,¡± Sid said. ¡°I don¡¯t think it does. Nova Industries isn¡¯t in charge of the b-link monitoring system.¡± ¡°They aren¡¯t?¡± ¡°Nope,¡± Sid said, taking hold of her tray again with both hands when another convict logged out. Aya took the time to down nearly all the remaining liquid. It went down a lot more easily than it had the first day. ¡°B-links are only being used as a test in a few select max-sec prisons,¡± Sid said. ¡°Where I transferred from, they didn¡¯t have any.¡± Aya hadn¡¯t realized that the woman was a transfer, and although the subject interested her, she simply didn¡¯t have the time to go into it just then. Sid must have sensed her unrest, because she smiled and asked, ¡°So, what exactly do you want to know?¡± ¡°How can I guarantee myself a spot by Friday?¡± Sid pursed her lips in consideration, ¡°I¡¯m guessing you don¡¯t want the obvious answer¡­¡± ¡°What?¡± Chris asked, ¡°Get ranked at at least 5,213?¡± Sid smiled and shrugged before she gave another three convicts their nutri-packs. Not a single person was choosing to line up by the wall for cafeteria lunch. Chris considered the fact a moment before she realized it probably had something to do with the way people were behaving at breakfast. The atmosphere of the entire prison had changed from night to day as the women got ready to defend their spots from the new usurpers. ¡°All right, well. All I can really say is, you need to level and you need to do it fast.¡± Chris hoped the dread she felt over the words wasn¡¯t overly apparent on her face, but the woman had made Chris let her guard down so she wouldn¡¯t be surprised if it was. ¡°Good thing for you¡­¡± Sid said, noticing Chris¡¯ worried expression. ¡°Is that you seem to be a case apart.¡± ¡°A case apart?¡± ¡°Pending Review.¡± ¡°Wh¡ª Did Tiny¡ª¡± Chris felt anger, mistrust and betrayal boil up inside her like a festering wound. She¡¯d already primed herself to hate her roommate and Sid¡¯s words had finally given her a real reason to do it. ¡°Tiny? Oh, no no no no,¡± the woman denied a little too emphatically for Chris¡¯ taste. ¡°I heard it from one of the guards.¡± The woman flashed a beautiful smile, once more setting Chris at ease, so much so that Chris felt herself wanting to get closer to Sid. ¡°She¡¯s still on the fence about which team she¡¯s on.¡±If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°Which tea¡ª¡± realizing what Sid¡¯s words meant, she clamped her mouth shut along with any desire to get closer to the woman. Could it be that she was being worked over somehow? Flirted with? Sid flashed her a beautifully innocent smile, making Chris feel dirty for even thinking it. The woman had been nothing but helpful. Taking the next minute to compose herself as Sid handed out another two nutri-packs, she downed the rest of the packet. ¡°The important thing to note is,¡± Sid said, hurrying her words more now that all but one of the convicts had logged out for lunch, ¡°whatever you¡¯re doing is either really working or really not. Find out which one it is, formulate a plan and stick with it.¡± ¡°This Pending Review thing is taking a very long time to resolve itself,¡± Sid said. ¡°Heck, even Shelby is getting irritated by the attention you¡¯re getting from the Warden.¡± ¡°Attention?¡± Chris asked, excited she might still be in the running, after all. ¡°I¡¯m afraid you can¡¯t get your hopes up, Little Barbie,¡± Sid said with a sad tone to her voice. ¡°By attention, I mean he probably gives your profile a thirty-second review every couple of days.¡± ¡°¡­Oh,¡± Chris answered, deflated. ¡°It¡¯s time,¡± the goggled guard said from the door, face drawn in stern lines. Chis nodded, not wanting to get in trouble, and started walking toward her capsule. Getting there, she turned around and asked the question she¡¯d been burning to ask for the past fifteen minutes. ¡°Can I just ask,¡± Chris said, not sure she wanted to know the answer, ¡°what level are people usually at by the end of the week?¡± Sid smiled sadly, yet encouragingly, and said, ¡°Anywhere from 19 to 24, but the lower levels always have some kind of ridiculous money-maker which keeps them in the game.¡± The beautiful woman winked, clutched the empty platter to her body and waved goodbye in a quick, friendly gesture. Chris sighed, closed the capsule and got ready to re-enter Era. The conversation hadn¡¯t revealed much that she didn¡¯t already know, but it did confirm that she wasn¡¯t going to make the ranks through leveling. Her only option was to succeed in other ways so she could convince the Warden during her interview. The other thing she¡¯d learned was that Sid wasn¡¯t telling her everything she knew. Not about Tiny, but definitely not about the Warden. There wasn¡¯t a doubt in Chris¡¯ mind that the woman knew exactly what level Chris was at; the sad understanding look she¡¯d directed at her had given at least that much away. How much else did she know? And perhaps more importantly, why did she know it? Wasn¡¯t she supposed to be just a dud like all the others? It seemed like the more she found out, the less she knew. Instead of getting caught up in things she couldn¡¯t resolve, Chris shoved the conversation into a corner of her mind and focused on the task ahead of her that she could actually do something about: succeed enough to petition the Warden to keep her as a player. It was a new goal, an achievable goal¡­ probably. All that she needed to do was figure out how exactly the achieving part was going to go down. After logging back into Era, Aya tried leaving Durrenheim multiple times but seemed to always come across more Serving Time members at precisely the wrong moments. Eventually, she decided to just duck into the library for a while and see if a little time would lessen the guild¡¯s search a little. She bargained with Aizan until he taught her another, more binding, Contract. She then spent almost ten hours paying for it in the form of the Contracts she had just learned. Her speed had picked up so much that even Aizan was impressed by her progress. If she¡¯d attempted the same task only days earlier, it would have taken her almost twice as long. After paying for the Contract ¡®recipe¡¯, Aya tried getting another out of Aizan, still not completely sure she wanted to chance the streets yet. This time, however, Aizan flatly refused. Maybe it was her reputation she needed to work on, maybe her bargaining skills, but whatever it was, Aizan said no. In a last-ditch attempt to get something from the scholar, Aya asked, ¡°Well, is there anything you can teach me?¡± Aizan opened his mouth as if to deny the request as Aya was expecting him to, but at the last moment seemed to change his mind and said, ¡°Actually, there is.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°Have you mastered cartography yet?¡± ¡°Car-Cartography? As in¡­ maps?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Then¡­ no. Not yet,¡± Aya said. ¡°Perfect,¡± Aizan said. ¡°I¡¯ll teach you on the condition that¡ª¡± ¡°Is there always going to be a condition for everything?¡± ¡°Welcome to the real world,¡± he said, almost making Aya laugh out loud. She wondered if game developers inserted lines like that into the game just to mess with people. ¡°What¡¯s your condition?¡± ¡°That you give me a copy of all of your maps.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± Aya said, a little surprised the request was so simple. ¡°I guess I can do that,¡± she said, and immediately wanted to smack herself for agreeing so quickly. She should have negotiated more. She blamed MageSlayer for her negotiation incompetence; the man must be rubbing off on her. ¡°Great!¡± Aizan said, again in full scholar-animation mode. The librarian¡¯s enthusiasm about the deal would give her some reputation points with the man, so maybe not all was lost. That¡¯s what she told herself, anyway. Aya was then subjected to a full lecture on map-making. Until then, she had already been making vague maps of the surrounding regions, mostly focused on the mobs of each region, their behavior and, as a side note, their respective habitats. Aizan¡¯s lecture went into the method behind the process in far greater detail. He brought out little devices, a couple rulers of different shapes, sizes and slants, a protractor, a compass and a couple other things she couldn¡¯t identify. Aizan taught her how to measure and keep track of distance using a mixture of landmark choices, the sun¡¯s position, the horizon and walking speed. He then showed her the Empire¡¯s common map notation form, the symbols for trees, rivers, streams, lakes, oceans, hills, mountains, any kind of terrain you could think of. It was yet another ¡®language¡¯ she would have to learn, but most of the symbols were pretty straightforward. They consisted mainly of very simplified versions of whatever they were representing. A mountain was an upside-down V, a forest was a T, a jungle was a T with two horizontal lines and so on. Next, they moved onto elevation. It was something she¡¯d never really paid attention to, and Aizan showed her how to keep track of that, too. The method involved a barometer disguised as a hourglass. By infusing the clock with mana, it controlled the speed at which sand fell according to what you wanted to measure at that particular time. You could change it to measure temperature, weight, humidity and anything else you could think of as long as you infused mana into it. Before giving her the Skill, he gave her the quest of mapping out Durrenheim. The recent Outworlder influx into town had changed its structure quite a bit and the Senior Librarian wanted it mapped out in its current state for the library records. He offered a sand-clock as a reward. Aya didn¡¯t hesitate in accepting the challenge, but came to second-guess her decision later. It seemed she came across Serving Time members every five minutes, making her have to duck into all kinds of nooks and crannies, some of which were very unappealing to be in for extended, or any, amounts of time. On the flip side, she continued to level up her Stealth skill. Every chance she got, she would ask locals for street and shop names, but many still refused to talk to her. The ones that did talk to her had some kind of connection with the people she already knew. Over the span of the day, her reputation with townspeople increased and at least that part of the job became easier. By the time she finished all of her sketches and information gathering, twelve hours had gone by and she was no longer second-guessing her decision. No, she was absolutely certain Aizan had been outright taking advantage of her. However, she chose not to bring it up when she returned to the library. Pretending she had just had the time of her life, Aya showed off the cloak she¡¯d bought and exchanged her old one for. She¡¯d found it in a small shop, belonging to an old man who was apparently childhood friends with Aizan. Compared to her old one, it felt like silk on her skin. Surprisingly, the conversation had led to a quest involving the old man, but Aya turned him down. She had too much on her plate already, and it was time she made her way out of Durrenheim. She stayed long enough for Aizan to teach her the Cartography Skill. Aya ended up having to activate the Skill eight times to complete the city map, as her expertise was understandably lacking. Luckily, Aizan¡¯s copy was completed with a single Scribe activation and she didn¡¯t have to wait all over again for her mana to keep recharging. Aya hurried and snuck her way out of the city the same way she¡¯d come in, and by the time met up with Xavier at Nelson¡¯s place, there wasn¡¯t much time left in Era. Donovan had been ignoring her messages all day, but Xavier had kept her posted on the progress at the shop. The man was getting oddly invested in the shop and even asked for permission to move his smithy there. Not seeing a reason against it, Aya drew up a Contract and expected him to move there by the end of the week. She didn¡¯t want to give him any loopholes to take over her shop, but she didn¡¯t mind having him there to supervise. Then again, the shop was practically running itself. The Contracts were keeping all her hires on the production line going. Serving Time still hadn¡¯t worked the process out, mainly because of all the Contracts Aya had created, which didn¡¯t allow it. If anyone gave the information away, Aya would be getting that person¡¯s gold for the next month, so no amount of bribery would get people to talk. She knew it would come out eventually, but she¡¯d been able to avoid detection for the first day, at least. Aya spent the last two game hours trying to find ways to keep it that way for as long as possible. Her hope was that it would last at least until the end of the week, and preferably until Serving Time completely defaulted on their loans. Spending more money she didn¡¯t have, she used Xavier to hire a guild of smugglers and assassins to keep her metal source secret. The players were going to follow the ore and metal shipments, disguising them as some other type of good. When Aya asked for an example of what she should expect, her contact said ¡®dung¡¯. Considering the metal purification process, it was quite appropriate, so Aya merely said thanks and moved on. The last couple of hours she had in the game she spent writing even more Contracts, needing to get as many done as she possibly could. At this point in time, it was the activity that gave her the most money in the least amount of time. Sid had pretty much confirmed that leveling wasn¡¯t going to cut it, so Aya was going to worry about it less for a while and instead try to focus more on getting as much money as she could. She realized that she was going to end the week in a tremendous amount of debt, but if she could use the little she¡¯d scraped together to create Serving Time¡¯s downfall in a shorter amount of time, she still might have something to show the Warden. Goldilock¡¯s notification came right after she accepted the last Commissioned Contract on the Forums. Aya finished it, started a new Contract and logged out at the last possible minute, taking advantage of every single Era moment she could. Chapter 46 Metropolis - Goldilocks Cafeteria Tuesday, May 12th, 2089 | 6:08pm ¡°Mind if I sit?¡± Chris asked. The same dark-skinned woman from breakfast looked up at Chris, widened her eyes and nodded quickly. Chris took her time, using slow movements to settle down onto the bench. The woman already looked about as spooked as a deer in headlights, and, knowing she had at least part in that, she didn¡¯t want to do anything to exacerbate the situation. The two of them ate in the same silence they¡¯d shared during breakfast. Chris took advantage of the moment to get a feel for the room. Women were sitting hunched up in defensive stances. More than ever, the convicts were segregated by race and appearance. The blondes, brunettes and redheads seemed to team up and find comfort in solidarity. Brusque one-liners were being delivered with more frequency and intensity than Chris had ever noticed. In the time that she¡¯d been in jail, she¡¯d almost grown accustomed to the slightly threatening interplay between women, but today¡¯s display made all the other days look like a walk in the park. ¡°Y-you think it¡¯s all because of me?¡± the woman asked in the hoarse whisper of a broken voice. Chris eyed the woman, who was studying her in return. Had she just read Chris¡¯ thoughts? Chris hesitated a moment before she shook her head and replied, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t think too highly of myself.¡± The woman¡¯s eyes widened, shocked at the interpretation. Chris smiled; being able to get a reaction other than fear and submission from the woman just felt good. ¡°Nah,¡± Chris added in a gentler tone. ¡°This woulda happened with or without you.¡± They both looked around the room then, once more noticing how everyone looked on edge. Even the guards looked like they were standing in front of a cracked dam, just waiting for the flood. Chris looked back at the woman and changed her answer. ¡°All right, maybe you did speed things up a little.¡± ¡°¡­Oh,¡± the woman said, with a slight, humorous tilt of the lips. Chris nodded and they went back to companionable silence for a while. The silence, unlike most silences Chris had experienced, was comfortable and she didn¡¯t feel obligated to break it, but eventually curiosity got the best of her. ¡°You don¡¯t have to answer¡­¡± Chris said. ¡°Actually, it¡¯s none of my business¡­¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s fine, go ahead. You want to ask me why I¡¯m here, right?¡± ¡°Well, sorta¡­But not really¡­¡± Chris answered, wondering why people cared so much what you did to end up in prison. Was it better or worse to have a more serious crime on your rap sheet? With a slight shake of her head, Chris dismissed the tangential thought and got back to the question she had been intending to ask. ¡°I was actually wondering why those women singled you out¡­¡± ¡°Oh¡­¡± the woman¡¯s eyes instantly clouded over again, completely obliterating any levity Chris had managed to add. It took the woman a while to form the words, but eventually she said, ¡°I thought someone was my friend¡­ who wasn¡¯t...¡± The woman looked down, biting her bruised lip until the pain must have made her cringe. Chris was in the middle of feeling bad for her, when the woman¡¯s eyes suddenly darted up to meet Chris¡¯. The haunted and fearful expression that had dominated them was completely gone, replaced by panic. ¡°Don¡¯t ever tell anyone your rank!¡± ¡°I w¡ª¡± ¡°Is this her?¡± a brusque voice suddenly asked. Chris jumped and turned at the same time to see two women. The one on the left was of average height and the most distinguishing feature about her was the goggles she wore. They were of the same make and model as the ones Chris had seen on the security guards. The woman had limp, gray-brown hair and faded blue eyes. Although her body seemed to be in its mid-forties, Chris thought the woman looked older than her years. ¡°Yep,¡± the goggled one said. ¡°That¡¯s her, all right.¡± ¡°Good,¡± said the first one. She was a very large Tiny-esque woman of ebony skin. She made the dark woman in front of Chris look pale in comparison. Her curly hair was close-cropped and her jaw was wide and firm. ¡°Sit,¡± she commanded. The dark, tall one took a seat next to Chris and the other went around the table to sit down next to the beaten woman that Chris still didn¡¯t know the name of. Part of Chris wanted to get up and bolt out of there. They were obviously interested in the beaten woman in front of Chris, so there really was no point in sticking around, especially if they were part of the same group involved in the shower incident the day before. Chris was about to listen to her sense of self-preservation and high-tail it out of there, but then she looked at the woman in front of her. The bruises had only gotten uglier since that morning and the woman¡¯s face was all colors of black, purple and blue. There were cuts on her lips and cheek. The injuries made Chris feel terrible, but the real reason she stayed were the eyes. They were so full of panic, fear and outright terror that Chris felt guilty for thinking her own situation was bad. The real victim here was the woman, not Chris. Wanting to feel a little more like a human being and a little less like a self-serving criminal, Chris glued herself to the bench and stayed. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± the ebony Tiny asked with a harsh voice the moment she sat down, shaking the whole table with her bulk. ¡°M-Mine?¡± the young woman across the table asked, jumping in her seat. ¡°Well, definitely not Barbie¡¯s here,¡± the dark Tiny said, tipping her head toward Chris. Chris wasn¡¯t sure what that was supposed to mean, but chose not to react. The fact that Tiny¡¯s nickname for her was so widespread was both frightening and suspicious, but Chris didn¡¯t need anyone to know that was how she felt about it. ¡°T-Tanisha,¡± the woman finally answered. ¡°Tatanisha!?¡± the goggled woman sneered. ¡°Well, your mom must¡ª¡± ¡°Shut up, Freddy,¡± the dark woman said. ¡°Or should I say, Alfredda?¡± Freddy managed to look embarrassed and angry at the same time while the dark woman merely rolled her eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t mind Freddy here. She¡¯s got mommy issues,¡± she said, using the same sneering tone Freddy had just used to mock Tanisha. ¡°I¡¯m Velma, and it¡¯s nice to finally meet you.¡± The dark woman¡¯s tone sounded like a strange mixture of that of a door-to-door salesman and someone introducing themselves in an AA meeting. Chris was waiting for Tanisha¡¯s reaction when Velma then did something completely unexpected. The dark woman reached her massive, bulging right arm across the table, almost bulldozing everything in its way. Chris instinctively flinched away from the unexpected movement, expecting some kind of violent display. Velma glared in response, making Chris realize that she was just offering a handshake. Judging by Tanisha¡¯s tremulous demeanor, Chris wasn¡¯t the only one that had expected something closer to physical assault than a friendly gesture. The bulky arm hung awkwardly suspended above the table until a shaking and bandaged hand finally crept across the table. The two hands united in a very strange handshake that consisted mostly of a limp noodle wobble on Tanisha¡¯s side. ¡°N-Nice to m-meet¡­ you too,¡± Tanisha muttered before withdrawing her hand. ¡°We heard from Freddy here,¡± Velma said nodding at the goggled woman ¡°¡­ what happened last night,¡± ¡°¡­ We?¡± Chris asked. ¡°You mean you and Alf¡ª I mean, Freddy here,¡± Chris nodded at the goggled woman, ¡°aren¡ª¡± ¡°No,¡± Velma interrupted, glaring at her. Chris bit her lip, feeling really intimidated by the woman for the first time. Chris hadn¡¯t realized until that moment just how much Tiny¡¯s presence had acclimatized Chris to massive feminine physiques. Compared to Tiny, the woman next to her even looked comical. Where Tiny was tall and proportionately strong, Velma just seemed like a short, wide and muscular Neanderthal. Knowing full well Chris had just interrupted a conversation that had nothing to do with her, she felt slightly contrite and stupid. Chris had no idea who Velma was or what the short muscular woman could do to her. Chris needed to show more restraint, especially with someone that could snap her spine in half before she even got a chance to cry for help. ¡°No,¡± Velma said again, through gritted teeth. Chris got the odd impression the dark woman was thinking of doing just that and adjusted her posture accordingly, sinking protectively into herself. Chris could feel Velma¡¯s continued glare on her right cheek. It was as if Velma was waiting for Chris to interrupt her again, just so Velma had an excuse to retaliate. When Chris continued to stare at her food, Velma finally continued, ¡°Freddy is an independent agent.¡± ¡°A philanthropist, really¡­¡± Freddy said with a shit-eating grin on her face, completely ignoring the tense moment that had just taken place and fortunately, also breaking it. ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Velma said, sighing. ¡°Philanthropy directed towards those who keep her rank up for her.¡± ¡°Wh¡ª You¡ª I don¡¯¡ª¡± Freddy struggled to find the right words, obviously trying to defend her reputation. She pointed her spork at Velma as if it were a fencing sword and not a harmless, biodegradable eating utensil. ¡°Yes, you do,¡± Velma said, completely ignoring Freddy¡¯s ¡®en-garde¡¯ stance. ¡°No, I am here representing certain people.¡± ¡°C-Certain people¡­?¡± Tanisha asked, sounding more scared than ever, apparently missing all the humorous undertones of the conversation. Chris didn¡¯t blame her. Velma was already a very large, scary-looking woman and if Velma was only there representing someone, the person above her had to be that much worse. ¡°Yes,¡± Velma said, completely oblivious to Tanisha¡¯s fear. Chris thought fear must be a foreign concept to the woman. ¡°W-What do you want!?¡± Tanisha asked. ¡°We want you,¡± Velma said, as if presenting a Nobel Peace Prize. ¡°Why!? W-What have I¡­¡± Tanisha said, voice growing dimmer as her words ran out. ¡°Ever done to any of y¡­¡± Tanisha¡¯s last word was practically inaudible and Tanisha was once more hunched over defensively. ¡°Well, we were keeping an eye on you since Sunday when you told Sh¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, okay?!¡± Tanisha said, panic once more dominating her voice. ¡°I won¡¯t play anymore if that¡¯s what it takes for me to be left alone!¡± ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Velma asked, honestly surprised by Tanisha¡¯s outburst. The woman really didn¡¯t understand intimidation well, which Chris thought surprising. One would assume a woman in the intimidation business would realize when she was accomplishing her job. ¡°I¡¯m here to recruit you,¡± Velma said, shocking the whole table. There was a silence only filled by Freddy¡¯s loud chewing and the rest of the cafeteria¡¯s noise while both Chris and Tanisha tried to process what Velma had just said. Tanisha was in outright shock, her mouth hanging loosely from her jaw. Chris¡¯ expression was not too different. ¡°Wh¡ª¡± Tanisha eventually said, overcoming the open-mouthed goldfish expression, ¡° But I thought you¡ª¡± Tanisha stuttered, trying to find the right words. ¡°You¡¯re not here to k¡ª¡­¡± Tanisha swallowed. ¡°Hurt me?¡±Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. ¡°Hurt you!?¡± Velma asked, shock in her voice. ¡°Why would we do that? We haven¡¯t had such a promising recruit since Yunaz and that was like¡­¡± she held up her left hand and counted off her fingers, ¡°¡­three cycles ago.¡± ¡°P-promising?¡± Tanisha asked. ¡°Well, yeah¡­¡± Velma said, as if announcing that the sky had decided to be blue that day, ¡°From what I heard, you jumped 800 ranks on the first day, sooooo¡­..¡± It was Chris¡¯s turn to assume the goldfish look, and across the table she saw the same one manifest on Freddy¡¯s face. ¡°You mean th-this thing¡ª¡± Freddy said, trying to find coherence in her shock. ¡°Yep, that¡¯s right, Freddy,¡± Velma said with a smug smile on her face. ¡°¡¯This thing¡¯,¡± she said, using air quotation marks, ¡°surpassed your sorry ass on the first day.¡± ¡°But that¡¯s like¡­¡± Freddy said, still at a loss for words. ¡°I mean¡­ What.. How!?¡± Velma reached her bulky arm across the table once more to touch Tanisha¡¯s hand. Chris assumed Velma meant it as a comforting gesture, but it came across a lot more threatening than anything else. Velma really needed to do some self-reflection and realize that she was about as comforting as an avalanche about to bury you alive. ¡°You don¡¯t have to answer that¡­¡± Velma said in a ¡®soothing¡¯ tone. ¡°You can just come with me and we¡¯ll make sure that,¡± she nodded at the bruises on Tanisha¡¯s face, ¡°never happens again.¡± Tanisha¡¯s eyes were still as round as saucers and she looked like she was about to bolt at any moment. Chris didn¡¯t blame her. Eating her last sporkfuls of gruel, Chris was beginning to find a weird enjoyment out of the situation. It was like being part of a sit-com. Velma¡¯s words about protection made Chris wish she was the one being recruited instead. Maybe it would allow Chris to feel safe, though she doubted that would ever be the case in Goldilocks. Pensive, she chewed and chewed on the same mouthful of gruel as she considered her situation. On one hand, she felt unsafe and wanted protection, but on the other, there would be no need for protection once they all found out what her rank was. She wanted the rank, but she didn¡¯t want the danger that came along with it, especially, it seemed, for new players. Chris swallowed, sighed, shook her head and turned her attention back to the women around her. When her eyes looked up, they once more landed on Tanisha¡¯s. The woman was looking at her as if she could see right through Chris and the thoughts that had been going through her head. Another moment passed before the woman apparently caught herself and looked down. Velma and Freddy were arguing back and forth about Freddy¡¯s attributes in the game. Velma had little to no regard for the woman who was vehemently trying to prove her worth. ¡°H-how does this recruitment w-work?¡± Tanisha suddenly asked, completely interrupting the squabble. It was obvious that Tanisha had needed every ounce of courage in her body to blurt the words out the way she did. ¡°The normal way, I guess,¡± Velma said. ¡°You join our faction and, in exchange for your assistance in Era, we give you protection in Goldilocks.¡± ¡°B-but¡­ why?¡± Tanisha asked, forcing her voice to be as even as possible even as tremors of fear shook it like a cold, wet puppy. ¡°What do you mean, why?¡± Velma asked. ¡°We all have the things we¡¯re good at. Some, like me, are particularly good at¡­ safety protocols. Others, like you¡­. Are good at Era.¡± ¡°But why do you care so much?¡± ¡°About Era?¡± Velma asked, confused. ¡°Yes, I mean this whole prison basically runs on your performance in the game and I j-just don¡¯t underst-tand it.¡± After the longest string of words Chris had heard from Tanisha until then, the woman seemed to lose her courage and once more curled her shoulders up defensively while clutching her hands together under the table. ¡°Why?¡± Freddy said, scoffing and interrupting the conversation. ¡°Because the only other option is prison.¡± Velma sighed rolled her eyes and said, ¡°You can leave, you know? I don¡¯t really need you here anymore¡­¡± ¡°All right, all right¡­¡± Freddy said, holding her hands up in surrender. ¡°I¡¯ll be good.¡± ¡°Doubtful,¡± Velma muttered before turning her attention back to Tanisha. ¡°The reason Era matters so much is¡­ Well, I guess Freddy is right to some degree¡­¡± Chris saw Freddy gearing up across the table, getting ready to interrupt Velma, who must have noticed as well because she interrupted herself and said, ¡°Don¡¯t even!¡± Freddy clamped her mouth shut, scowled and shook her head. Settling down like an admonished kid, she petulantly got back to her gruel. Velma completely ignored her and got back to the explanation. ¡°But no, the real reason why Era matters is the Warden.¡± ¡°The W-Warden?¡± Tanisha asked, brows wrinkling as if it was the first time she¡¯d heard about him. ¡°W-Why him?¡± ¡°Because he controls everything,¡± Velma said seriously. ¡°He controls how much Era time you have and he uses that to control how long our sentences will be, but most importantly, he controls¡­¡± ¡°Wait,¡± Chris said, unintentionally cutting in. ¡°A warden isn¡¯t allowed to just cut your sentence short¡­¡± Velma frowned at Chris, who was once more interrupting a conversation that wasn¡¯t hers. For a moment Chris thought Velma would put her in the same boat as Freddy and completely disregard her, but then Velma just sighed and said, ¡°He can¡¯t legally cut it short.¡± Apparently Chris¡¯ question was something Velma had planned on covering anyway, because she willingly continued to explain, ¡°But he has pull with the parole board and one word from him can either cut or increase your sentence.¡± ¡°I-Increase?¡± Tanisha asked, eyes wide with shock. ¡°Yeah, when I said he controls everything, I meant it,¡± Velma said in a grave tone. ¡°He can make your life hell if he wants to, and all it takes for him is a click of a button.¡± ¡°A click of a button?¡± Chris asked, finding herself once more unintentionally cutting into the conversation. Velma frowned at her once more, but also seemed to come to the conclusion that Chris wasn¡¯t going to shut up. ¡°What I mean is¡­¡± Velma said and put her right elbow on the table, holding up her hand and shaking it, making her glowing b-link dangle. ¡°You think the b-links are just there to look pretty?¡± Tanisha¡¯s eyes immediately sank to the hands on her lap, where her b-link was. Chris looked at her own b-link before looking over the table at Freddy, who just wrinkled her nose at Velma¡¯s revelation. Disgust, not at Velma, but at the b-links. Chris¡¯ eyes once more fell to her own b-link as Tanisha spoke. ¡°W-What can he do?¡± ¡°Everything,¡± Velma said, stuffing a sporkful of gruel in her mouth. ¡°In here, he is God. If he wants you to feel pain, you will. If he wants you to feel tired, you will. If he wants you to smell disgusting things, taste¡­¡± Velma nodded at the tray in front of her, ¡°disgusting things¡­ all he has to do is go to that little control room of his, and it¡¯s done.¡± ¡°P-pain?¡± Tanisha asked, flinching away from the word. Sympathy welled up within Chris and she wanted to reach over and tell Tanisha it was going to be alright, but Chris didn¡¯t. It would be hypocritical of her. Instead, she turned her attention back to Velma, who was speaking again. ¡°I¡¯ve heard that pain isn¡¯t nearly as bad as the other things he¡¯s done to people. I¡¯ve heard of inmates being sent to the psych ward after they got on his bad side¡­ he made them feel like they hadn¡¯t slept in months. No matter how much they actually slept, mentally they couldn¡¯t convince themselves they were rested¡­ Imagine what that would do to you¡­¡± There was a moment of silence as all four women considered the scenario and shuddered. ¡°But that¡¯s torture,¡± Chris said. ¡°A warden shouldn¡¯t be allowed to¡­¡± ¡°What proof is there?¡± Velma asked. Chris opened her mouth to answer, but Velma just interrupted her and clarified, ¡°Physical proof. Anything b-link associated, the Warden controls. He can make it look like nothing ever happened. Just like he can make it look like we don¡¯t play as much as we do¡­¡± ¡°Surely there are Era records that keep track of that sort of thing.¡± ¡°Sure,¡± Velma said. ¡°But most prisons barely have enough Era capsules. Why would anyone spend resources investigating who spent how much time in Era, particularly when the weekly psychiatrist notes have checked off on the minimum daily Era time?¡± ¡°But that¡¯s like¡­¡± Chris said. ¡°Plus,¡± Freddy said, interrupting again. ¡°It¡¯s technically legal. I¡¯ve read the government Era plan and there¡¯s a minimum requirement, for sure. But I didn¡¯t see a maximum limit anywhere.¡± Freddy seemed inordinately pleased with herself for knowing that little factoid, but the other women just ignored it, even Tanisha, who then asked, ¡°W-What does he get out of it, though?¡± Velma and Freddy looked at her in confusion. ¡°I mean¡­ w-why go through all this trouble? With the players, the capsules, the shrinks, the b-links¡­¡± Velma and Freddy looked at Tanisha as if she were the most naive person they¡¯d ever come across. Then they looked at each other for a moment, as if to check that they¡¯d actually found someone so ignorant about how the world worked, and then looked back at Tanisha and said, ¡°Money,¡± in unison. Chris continued to eat her gruel during the whole exchange, watching as other tables started to empty, but had to look back at the still blank-faced Tanisha. Chris too, could not believe Tanisha to be so oblivious. ¡°¡­ Oh,¡± Tanisha said after a moment, as if recalling a long-forgotten memory. ¡°Come on, girl,¡± Velma said. ¡°It¡¯s what makes the world go round.¡± There was another moment of silence and, growing aware of the emptying cafeteria, they all ate, trying to catch up to leave on time. The silence started to turn awkward as all four of them continued to shovel down the gruel, so Chris ventured and asked, ¡°So¡­ I¡¯ve been wondering about the players as opposed to grinders. D¡ªSomeone told me there are two groups of players but¡­ what''s the difference really? Other than more play time.¡± ¡°As you said,¡± Velma said. ¡°The top five hundred or so get to play as long as they want, literally. The Warden even fakes their sleep records sometimes so they can get up to like twenty real hours a day.¡± ¡°Wow, but why¡­¡± ¡°Why would you go so crazy about Era?¡± Velma asked. Chris nodded. Velma shrugged and answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, ¡°Because the higher your rank is, the more tasks you complete, the more the Warden rewards you. Plus, if you¡¯re at the top, you need to work twice as hard to actually stay there.¡± ¡°Wait, wait¡­¡± Chris said. ¡°Tasks?¡± Velma rolled her eyes. ¡°Honestly, as¡­ scintillating as this conversation has been. I came here to recruit Tanisha, not you, Barbie. So if you¡¯ll excuse me¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯ll go,¡± Tanisha suddenly said. Velma looked at her, surprised. ¡°Good,¡± Velma said with a grin. ¡°Then we can¡ª¡± ¡°If she comes with me,¡± Tanisha added, nodding at Chris. Stunned silence dominated for a moment before Velma said. ¡°I can¡¯t do that,¡± Velma said. ¡°She was claimed by someone else.¡± ¡°Claimed?¡± Chris asked, having absolutely no idea of a claim over her. Velma rolled her eyes. ¡°Yeah, like dibs,¡± Velma said. ¡°Dibs?¡± Velma sighed, and explained in monotone, ¡°With every cycle, the top three get together and take turns making their claims, then at the end of the first week, when results are out, they get to recruit first.¡± ¡°So, Tanisha doesn¡¯t really have any say over the matter?¡± Chris asked. Velma passed a hand through her short curly hair, exasperation dripping off of her every move. ¡°Of course she does,¡± Freddy cut in. ¡°Otherwise, it wouldn¡¯t be dibs, would it?¡± ¡°What Freddy meant was,¡± Velma said, taking back the reins of the conversation, ¡°You don¡¯t have to accept. You can choose to be an independent agent like Freddy here,¡± Velma nodded at Freddy, ¡°Or try your hand at another faction. But then¡­ you really have to prove you¡¯re worth it¡­¡± ¡°Who has my claim?¡± Chris couldn¡¯t help asking. ¡°Your¡­¡± Velma laughed. ¡°Never heard of anyone calling it ¡®my claim¡¯ before, but you¡¯ve been claimed by Anastasia.¡± ¡°But you just said I can turn her down, right?¡± Chris asked. ¡°Yes, but¡­¡± ¡°Ok, then I¡¯ll go with you instead.¡± ¡°Wait, wait, wait, wait,¡± Velma said. ¡°This isn¡¯t how this works, you have to¡­¡± ¡°But you said you wanted Tanisha, right?¡± ¡°Yeah, but¡ª¡± ¡°That she is the best you¡¯ve seen in over three cycles, right?¡± ¡°Not ¡®over¡¯, I said exactly th¡ª¡± ¡°Then, you¡¯re also recruiting her before the week is even over so that means th¡ª¡± ¡°No!¡± Velma cried. ¡°That¡¯s because of what happened at the sh¡ª¡± ¡°If you want her this bad, before results are out and if people like her can help people like Freddy for favors¡­ then you can also take me as a favor.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not how¡­¡± ¡°To Tanisha, your new guild or faction or whatever member.¡± ¡°Now wait a sec¡ª¡± ¡°Or should I say OUR guild or faction or whatever?¡± ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡­¡± Velma began, then stopped when she realized that Chris was done interrupting her. Instead, she sat back, sighed and crossed her arms. An eternity seemed to pass before Velma frowned and spoke her next words in exhausted resignation. ¡°Fine.¡± Chris grinned and saw that Tanisha was wearing the same expression across the table. ¡°Don¡¯t get too happy just yet,¡± Velma warned. ¡°I¡¯m not the one who has final say in this, but I¡¯ll ask the boss.¡± The rest of the meal took place in less than two minutes. They cleaned off their plates and took them to the conveyor belt. They were some of the last people to leave the cafeteria and when they headed out as a group, Chris touched Tanisha¡¯s wrist lightly, signaling for her to fall back a little. When Tanisha and Chris were a few feet behind Freddy and Velma, Chris asked, ¡°Why did you help me?¡± ¡°Because you looked like you wanted to help me yesterday and because you looked like you could use some help today.¡± Chris was taken aback by how transparent she was and thought back to those moments when Tanisha had looked at Chris like she could see into her head. Tanisha¡¯s kind gesture made Chris feel like a hypocrite. She was accepting the help of someone she had wanted nothing to do with that morning. Chris looked sideways at Tanisha, who looked back and smiled through swollen lips. Chris flinched and told herself she¡¯d make up for the kindness somehow in future. For now, she had to worry about how this development might blow back on her. She wasn¡¯t certain about Anastasia, but she suspected that the claim originated from Doris somehow. It pretty much confirmed Chris¡¯ suspicions of Doris¡¯ allegiance. For now though, it was all too much to process and she was just glad she would have people watching her back, even if it was just for the next couple of days. When the ranking results came out, she wouldn¡¯t be able to hide how bad she was at Era and would have to deal with the repercussions. She doubted the predominantly black and Asian group would want to keep a loser like her on, especially considering her blonde and blue eyed countenance. Chris sighed. ¡°Hey,¡± Chris said, remembering something. ¡°How good are you? I mean¡­ what level did you get to on the first day? That they want you that much?¡± ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know if I should be repeating this¡­ since it¡¯s what started all this in the first place but¡­ since it¡¯s already out anyway.... twelve, you?¡± ¡°... Less.¡± Tanisha nodded and Chris looked forward to watch Velma walk out through the cafeteria door. When it was their turn to go past the guards and through the door, both of them turned around as if on cue to look at the now-empty cafeteria. It showed no sign of all the murderers, felons and criminals it had held just minutes before. Chapter 47 Metropolis - Goldilocks Cafeteria Wednesday, May 13th, 2089 | 6:59am Like every other morning, Chris found herself waiting beside Tiny for the cafeteria doors to open. Biting her lips and wringing her hands, Chris wondered how long it would take for her roommate to find out about her petition to join Velma¡¯s faction. Surprisingly, the previous night had gone by without a hitch. Chris had expected Tiny to find out somehow and had been waiting some kind of reaction from the woman. Instead, they¡¯d just gone about their usual routine like any other day. During the exercises, Chris was barely able to keep up. In the shower, Chris tried to stay invisible. They studied, they slept, they woke up and made their way to breakfast. The previous night, Chris had noticed that her new faction wasn¡¯t yet completely aware of her position amongst their ranks. As she stood in the crowd, Chris saw that it was no longer the case. Unknown faces started looking at her with interest. They weren¡¯t all black or Asian, but enough were to convince Chris she was right. Shifting from foot to foot, Chris became increasingly aware of how anxious the whole situation was making her. She hadn¡¯t expected to feel that way the night before. She¡¯d walked away from the dinner table feeling quite satisfied with her position in the world around her. Perhaps it had something to do with how she¡¯d felt in control of the situation for the first time. Preoccupied with her thoughts, Chris almost didn¡¯t notice the doors opening. The usual stampede took her by surprise, almost knocking her over. Tiny had already gone her separate way and Chris wasn¡¯t expecting the helping hand that came her way, pushing her back up. Chris didn¡¯t see who the hand belonged to, but its skin was dark. Wondering about the implications of what had just happened, Chris made her way to the dispenser line while keeping an eye on the women around her. Over the next couple of minutes, she noticed women suddenly look in her direction. Some would keep their attention on Chris for a little bit while others lost interest the moment their eyes landed on her. She hadn¡¯t been the topic of conversation the day before, but she definitely was today. After grabbing a tray, Chris made her way to her usual table and found Tanisha already sitting there by herself. The woman looked up when Chris approached and smiled. Tanisha¡¯s face was just as bruised as before, if not more, but the swelling had gone down significantly, revealing high cheekbones Chris hadn¡¯t been aware of. Chris smiled back and took a seat. ¡°Good morning!¡± Tanisha said, beaming a large, white smile. ¡°Morning,¡± Chris replied. ¡°How are you?¡± Tanisha asked. ¡°Fine, you?¡± ¡°Fine.¡± Chris waited a moment to see if the woman would say anything else. When she didn¡¯t, Chris grabbed her spork and got to eating while continuing to survey the rest of the cafeteria. The edginess from the previous day had receded but wasn¡¯t completely gone. Chris wondered if Tanisha having joined Velma¡¯s faction had anything to do with it. Chris¡¯ eyes scanned the room while she scarfed down the gruel as fast as she could. She really didn¡¯t have time to keep worrying about prison politics when her position would be determined by her performance in Era, not the real world. She was almost done with her meal when her eyes landed on Doris. The gruel in Chris¡¯ mouth got stuck in her throat as she swallowed and Doris chose that exact moment to look right back at her. It took Chris less than an instant to look away, but it was enough to know that Doris knew. The woman knew about Chris¡¯ faction choice. Oddly, Chris felt like she¡¯d betrayed the woman somehow. Doris¡¯ expression had been one of cold cynicism, not very different from her usual expression, but her eyes had revealed a cold fury that shook Chris to the bone. Finishing her meal quickly, Chris got up to leave when she realized Tanisha was in the middle of saying something. ¡°Sorry,¡± Chris said. ¡°What?¡± ¡°No¡­ It¡¯s all right,¡± Tanisha said. She looked a little worried for a second, but then shook her head and smiled. ¡°We can talk at dinner¡­ Same time?¡± ¡°Same place,¡± Chris responded, smiling back. Chris looked at the door to check on the filling deck. Seeing that it was almost full, she hurriedly excused herself and made her way to the nearest conveyor belt. In her rush, she didn¡¯t notice two medium-sized women approaching her from both sides. A moment too late, Chris saw a broken spork, sharpened to a point, coming straight at her abdomen. Her reaction consisted of widened eyes, raised eyebrows and an open mouth as she ducked, trying to move her tray to block. However, before reaching the defensive position, she knew that she had reacted too late. She felt like she was moving in slow motion in quicksand. Clenching her eyes shut, Chris waited for the pain to arrive, but even after the tray was in position¡­ it didn¡¯t. Her other senses suddenly caught up to her, breaking the time-suspended bubble adrenaline had created. The echo of her fallen plate was still reverberating through the cafeteria, slowly being replaced by more and more voices. She opened her eyes, slowly, afraid of what she would find in front of her. Chris had no idea what she expected to see, but two pairs of women hugging definitely wasn¡¯t it. Velma was one of the women hugging one of Chris¡¯ attackers, while another tall, dark-skinned woman was hugging the other. There were no signs of blood, wounds or weapons in the vicinity. In fact, the whole room was already calming down in the time it took for Chris to get back on her feet. Standing there, lamely, not knowing what to do, Chris continued to watch the four women until she heard Velma whisper forcefully through gritted teeth. ¡°Get¡­ out of here¡­ now,¡± Velma said. Chris jerked, and directed her attention to Velma, who was smiling manically at Chris in order to speak without moving her lips. The squat, bulky woman was unrecognizable from the day before. The manic smile paired with the murderous look in her eyes made Chris want to run for the hills. If Chris had met this Velma last night, she wasn¡¯t sure she would have been able to talk in her presence, much less talk back to Velma until she got her way. Frightened into motion, Chris sank to the floor, grabbed her plate, spork and shot away from the scene, looking for the nearest conveyor belt. Chris walked quickly, trying to keep her head down yet remain vigilant at the same time. Her legs were shaking, threatening to buckle below her. Every time a woman got too close, Chris had to fight the instinct to flinch away. She started seeing threats where there were none. The guards stood motionlessly at the doors as if nothing had taken place. Chris ventured a quick glance behind her and was surprised to see nothing aside from the usual commotion of the cafeteria. All signs of the encounter, if there had been any, were gone. The women had dispersed, leaving no signs of their whereabouts. Fear started to well up within her again. Chris quickened her pace as much as she could without breaking into a run. She tried to keep her eyes focused on the guard at the door, trying to get the woman¡¯s attention, but eventually she couldn¡¯t help looking back over her shoulder. The tall, black woman that had defended Chris alongside Velma, was following a couple feet behind her. Chris¡¯ heart beat wildly in her chest. She hadn¡¯t felt her follower¡¯s presence at all, but knowing that she had someone on ¡®her side¡¯ to watch her back gave her enough fortitude to keep her wits about her as she put her utensils away and headed for the doors. As soon as Chris reached the guard, the woman following her vanished into the crowd. Chris was still recovering, her breath leaving her lungs in shaky breaths. Surveying the room from a safe position, Chris tried to let her mind catch up to what had happened. She wasn¡¯t given much time; less than half a minute later, two more women arrived and their deck was complete. As the guard led them out of the cafeteria, Chris couldn¡¯t help looking back one last time, trying to wrap her head around the last five minutes. It seemed like she¡¯d imagined the whole encounter, doubly so because of the total lack of evidence or even reaction from the rest of the cafeteria. She had no clue what it meant, why anyone would want to hurt her. Chris wasn¡¯t a threat to anyone. Who had done it? Doris? Tiny? Was it because she was new? Or maybe because she¡¯d joined Velma¡¯s faction? Chris hadn¡¯t the faintest clue. The whole experience was as surreal as the cold mountain air blowing in the background. Chris followed the line of women out of the cafeteria. Her legs followed in mindless synchrony with whoever was in front of her. Her thoughts were still reeling, trying to come to terms with the event. What if she¡¯d been hurt? What if she¡¯d been killed? The thought hit her like a freight train. In Era, it didn¡¯t matter if she died, but there was no coming back in real life. Until that moment, everything that had happened since she¡¯d met Suerte a week ago had seemed like a game. The lawyer had made Chris his pawn and asked that she learn the layout of the board. He¡¯d given her the basic guidelines and thrown her into a snake pit advertised as opportunity to save her sister. The stakes had always been high, but Chris just hadn¡¯t realized how high.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°¡­ Barbie.¡± Hearing her ¡®name¡¯ snapped Chris¡¯ attention back to the moment. ¡°Waiting for it¡­¡± ¡°Then again, Doris¡­¡± Chris was hearing snippets of conversation from the front of the line. Towards the back it was hard to hear, especially with the slight howl of the wind. Turning down the wind settings, she could hear a little more clearly, but not enough to make out every word. ¡°Well, she¡¯s with Anna now.¡± ¡°Anna!? No, I heard she¡­¡± Chris instinctively leaned forward, trying to hear the next words, but felt someone yank her uniform from behind. ¡°Stay in line, Barbie,¡± said a gruff voice behind her. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t want anything to happen to you¡­ now would we?¡± Chris flinched and looked back. The woman was of medium height, had dark skin and white hair. Not being able to immediately place her, Chris was opening her mouth to ask when she remembered. Her head snapped forward and all the blood drained from her face in an instant. It was one of Doris¡¯ cronies, one of the old women always hanging around at her table. Chris looked down the line to see if there were any potential faction ¡®friends¡¯ but as far as she could see, there were no small women with black hair and no dark-skinned women to be seen. Nibbling at the inside of her bottom lip, Chris clenched and unclenched her fists, telling herself over and over that they wouldn¡¯t go for her in a place so public. The cafeteria was one thing. There, you could blend into the masses. Here, there were only corridors upon corridors of virtual images to the configured outside world. There was no escape, no real escape. Unfortunately, the same was true for Chris. By the time they reached the Capsule bay a couple minutes later, Chris¡¯ nerves were completely frayed. When it was finally her turn to get to her capsule, she realized that she was wrong; there was an escape. Era. Relief surged until she logged in and remembered that prison wasn¡¯t the only place in which prisoners wanted her dead. Aya logged back in and found herself in Nelson¡¯s shop. On edge, she looked around, checking the interior and all the exits for any potential signs of danger. When the survey was done, Aya took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves. No longer looking for sources of danger, Aya finally noticed her surroundings. The shop she¡¯d left the day before with a few customers here and there was bustling with activity. There were at least a dozen players scouring the shelves while another handful waited at the counter, where Xavier was ringing up items at the register. The man was truly transformed. His leather blacksmith''s apron had been replaced with something more shop-friendly. When he turned around to grab an item, Aya got a good look at the frilly bow tied around his back. The vision of the stern man dressed up in a housewife¡¯s apron made Aya snort. The shopkeeper-to-be must have heard her because he suddenly looked straight at her and scowled. The action only made it funnier and Aya ducked between shelves so she could laugh outright. Tears came to her eyes as she guffawed to her heart¡¯s content, releasing some of the pent-up tension of the day. They might be ready to kill her in the real world, but they couldn¡¯t get her here. Era was a completely different world, with completely different rules, the only thing that connected it to the real world was¡­Her rank. The thought brought her up short. She hadn¡¯t checked her rank from the day before. In her conversation with Sid, the woman had pretty much confirmed that unless Aya got to level 19, leveling wouldn¡¯t get her out of the bottom ten percent. Instead, the woman had advised Aya to find a different way to stand out. The advice hadn¡¯t really been directed at her since Sid couldn¡¯t know for sure what Aya¡¯s rank was, but that was how Aya had chosen to take it. Going by her own past rankings, days with significant debt increase led to significant rank reduction. Conversely, debt decrease should lead to rank increase. It made sense, considering all the Warden wanted to use them for was gold-farming. Thus, Aya decided to dedicate the entire day to getting rid of the debt. She had so much debt she, didn¡¯t know where to start. There was Nelson¡¯s debt, her guild¡¯s debt over Serving Time¡¯s debt and her personal debt. Short term, the one that hurt the most was the personal debt. The interest rate she¡¯d agreed to for the start-up costs was ridiculous. The other debts were so big that a day¡¯s work wouldn¡¯t even put a dent into them. Having decided which debt to pursue, Aya headed toward Xavier. ¡°Hi¡­¡± Aya said. ¡°Gimme a sec,¡± Xavier said, getting back to customers. Nodding, Aya took the opportunity to check the forums for ¡®work¡¯. The sheer number of Contract requests brought a smile to her face. It was easily three times higher than what she normally saw. A featured post at the top revealed the reason fast enough. [OMG, SO MUCH EASIER TO GET CONTRACTS HERE NOW. SOMEONE IS ACTUALLY DOING THEM! SO MUCH CHEAPER THAN THOSE DAMN LIBRARIANS!] There was no mistaking the fact that she was the ¡®someone¡¯ in question. The stupid grin on her face only got bigger when she saw that not only the quantity, but also the magnitude of the Contracts had increased. With so many mid-level Contracts to go through, she would be busy for quite some time. It was a perfect opportunity to avoid Serving Time altogether, holed up somewhere where no one could find her. ¡°What do you need?¡± Xavier asked gruffly. ¡°Oh!¡± Aya said, having completely forgotten about the man. ¡°Right. Well, I just wanted to ask if you¡¯re okay. I mean, I saw you working the counter and I was pretty sure that I¡¯d hired some¡ª¡± ¡°That guy?!¡± Xavier asked, jerking his head towards a tall elf who was dusting off shelves. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Aya said. ¡°Lemme check¡­¡± Bringing up the Contract with Leviathan the elf, she turned back to Xavier and answered. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s the one. Why?¡± Xavier rolled his eyes and directed a glare at her. ¡°Do you really have to ask?¡± Then he muttered, ¡°No wonder you never finished your training¡­¡± ¡°¡­¡± Not sure which comment she should be replying to, Aya simply sighed and glared right back at the man before she directed her attention to the elf to see what Xavier meant. He was a Moonlight Elf, the exact race Aya would have chosen herself before doing her research. Moonlight elves had milky-white skin that shimmered in the daytime but darkened in the night. Their ears were large and pointy, reaching long past the top of their heads. They were already beautiful creatures, but this particular player had taken it a step further and given himself waist-length white hair that hung loosely down his back. His face was narrow and his eyes were a dark blue impossible to achieve in real life. ¡°Okay, so maybe he¡¯s a little¡­self-indulgent, but that doesn¡¯t mean that¡ª¡± The words got stuck in her mouth when she saw the elf swing his hair back over his shoulder as if he were in a shampoo commercial. There were two human priestesses looking over the metal grails in the artifacts section that Xavier had insisted on and the elf was now unsubtly hitting on them while he twirled a lock of hair around his index finger. He wore a lazy smile that was obviously forced along with the ¡®sexy¡¯ narrowing of his eyes. The two girls were giggling to each other, which only encouraged the elf¡¯s ¡®charming¡¯ act. His lips took on an exaggerated ¡®sultryness¡¯ that made it look like he interpreted ¡®duckface¡¯ as ¡®pelicanface¡¯. The giggles increased and other people looked his way. It hurt to watch. ¡°You were saying?¡± Xavier asked dryly. ¡°So he was¡­¡± ¡°All over the counter,¡± Xavier finished as he turned to answer a player¡¯s question about where to find broadswords for the mid-twenty levels. When Xavier turned back to her a few moments later, he simply crossed his arms and looked at her. ¡°I will not have my name associated with such trash,¡± he said. ¡°If we¡¯re going to do this, we are going to do this right. I will not be a joke.¡± ¡°Okay¡­ and by that you mean¡­¡± ¡°By that, I mean I¡¯m going to be in charge of operating this shop,¡± Xavier said with absolute finality. ¡°¡­ Are you sure?¡± Aya asked. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s nice and all, but are you sure you want to be spending all your time at the counter instead of out¡­. Hunting or something? Exploring? Whatever it is that you do in Era?¡± ¡°I¡¯m a blacksmith,¡± Xavier said, tone flat. ¡°I make weapons.¡± ¡°Well, if you want it¡­. The shop is all yours¡­ I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll be able to pay you more but¡­¡± ¡°Ten percent of revenue,¡± Xavier said. ¡°Wh¡ª No,¡± Aya said. ¡°This is my shop, you get your cut when I buy the weapons from you. The price is already very fair¡­¡± Too fair, considering how broke Aya was. ¡°If I am here to sell the weapons, you¡¯ll be able to charge fifteen percent more¡­ easily.¡± ¡°But¡­ they won¡¯t be your weapons you¡¯re selling.¡± ¡°So?¡± he asked. ¡°If I¡¯m there to guarantee their quality¡­ it doesn¡¯t matter.¡± ¡°That¡ª¡± Aya said, wanting to debate, but realizing it was true. The real world revolved around branding and marketing, why would Era be any different. Xavier would give the shop an image of prestige. If a master blacksmith claimed a weapon to be good, you knew it to be true; no true artist would put his good name on the line for a few bucks. ¡°Five on profit,¡± Aya countered. ¡°Nine.¡± ¡°Six.¡± ¡°Eight.¡± ¡°Six point five and that¡¯s as high as I¡¯ll go,¡± Aya said. Xavier stared at her with steely intensity, testing her resolve, but Aya didn¡¯t back down. Compared to Doris, the large man was child¡¯s play. ¡°Fine, you drive a hard bargain¡­¡± ¡°Yep, just a few things I picked up while not completing an apprenticeship¡­¡± Xavier¡¯s expression went from intense to contemplative in an instant. ¡°Touche, my friend. Touche.¡± ¡°Oh, we¡¯re friends now, are we?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t push it,¡± Xavier said, ¡°Why don¡¯t you¡ª¡± ¡°Get a Contract ready?¡± ¡°¡­Yes.¡± ¡°On it,¡± Aya replied with a satisfied smile. Chapter 48 Metropolis - Goldilocks: Capsule Bay 423 - Unit 4 Wednesday, May 13th, 2089 | 12:03pm [Status: In-Game] ¡°You going to sit there scrawling love-notes all day?¡± Xavier asked. ¡°Yep,¡± Aya responded lightly. ¡°You gonna keep asking me about it all day?¡± ¡°If it gets in the way of my business¡­ yes.¡± ¡°In the way of¡ª¡± Aya sighed. ¡°If anything, I¡¯m making you - sorry, us - more business by being here¡­ and offering another service. How many Contracts have we sold today?¡± ¡°Twenty-three,¡± came his prompt, albeit moody, answer. ¡°See?¡± Aya asked, smugly. ¡°And how many weapons, trinkets, pieces of armour and other items have I,¡± he elongated the last word, ¡°sold today?¡± ¡°No clue,¡± she said simply, not even bothering to look at him as she completed yet another Contract. She wasn¡¯t about to give the man the satisfaction. Picking up her quill, Aya went back to creating one Intermediate Contract after another. Purposefully ignoring the large blacksmith hovering nearby and the flamboyant elf strutting his stuff across the room, Aya focused on the money she still needed to make. Over the span of the morning, the personal 10,000 gold debt had been reduced to 5,198 gold, most of it attributable to custom Forum Contracts. Instead of the usual 12 gold standard Intermediate Contracts, detailed personalized Forum Contracts could get her anywhere between 20 and 50 gold. The average range tended to be around 30 gold, but Aya had managed to get a quite profitable 84 gold from a single Contract that morning. Other than the obvious money-making benefit, working on Contracts non-stop had kept Aya in the shop all morning, preventing any possible confrontation with Serving Time. In that time, her inbox had been spammed with many threat-messages of varying degrees of violence. Telling herself she wasn¡¯t taking them seriously, but also using the justification that no one was, for obvious reasons, requesting her dungeon-crawling services that day, she decided to spend the remainder of the day in the shop working on the debt. When lunchtime rolled around a few minutes later, Aya was faced with mixed emotions. On one hand, she couldn¡¯t wait to get out and finally find out her rank; on the other, she didn¡¯t want to risk running into Doris¡¯ friend. She wasn¡¯t naive enough to think the woman had her best interests at heart. Aya didn¡¯t expect the woman to be able to hurt her during lunch, not with the guards present, but she wasn¡¯t about to take unnecessary chances with her life. Aya waited until the very last minute to sign out for lunch. If the woman was still there, it would be obvious that Doris had sent her and easy for Aya to get away quickly. If not, she¡¯d still be able to do a quick check of her rank, down of a nutri-pack and make it back to the shop before a whole real-world minute had passed. In the end, the seventy Era minutes she¡¯d spent worrying about the possibilities were for naught. The time she spent in the real world was quick and uneventful. She grabbed a quick nutri-pack from a woman she¡¯d never seen before and downed it while checking her rank. [5508/5791] No longer planning on relying just on her rank to make player status, Aya hadn¡¯t worried as much as usual about the number, but seeing it made the worries come back in a tidal wave. Sid had given her hope that Aya¡¯s rank wouldn¡¯t be the be-all and end-all of her fate, but that had been mostly tied to the ¡®Review Pending¡¯ notice¡­ which was now gone. Aya wasn¡¯t sure what to make of that. Secondly, she¡¯d been expecting a higher number, at least and hopefully higher than 5469, to be precise. 5469 was the rank Aya knew Yaz had been at, at level 15. Aya was now at level 15 and her rank was almost forty ranks lower than the girl¡¯s had been days before, a girl who hadn¡¯t focused on her stats at all. Aya hadn¡¯t necessarily expected her stats to be taken into consideration for the rank, but she¡¯d presumed to at least match the girl in ranking. Finally, Aya could have sworn that the previous rank had been out of 5792, not 5791. Did that mean that someone had left? Been transferred? Released? Or¡­ worse? Aya¡¯s thoughts were reeling with the possibilities and how each of them could have an impact on her when the strong smell of aftershave knocked her back into the present. The white-haired elf had just walked by her on his way to the counter with two swords in his hands and two girls at his sides. Aya wrinkled her nose and wondered how the guy had been able to get such a modern smell into the medieval setting of Era. Not having reason to give it much thought until just then, Aya hadn¡¯t even noticed that Era was completely devoid of the ¡®clean¡¯ smells she was used to in modern society. Part of her subconscious mind had simply attributed it to the fact that the whole region was experiencing a water shortage, but if a wannabe-playboy-elf could smell ¡®good¡¯, it had to be more feasible than she thought. Needing a distraction from the monotonous task of Scroll making, Aya watched the elf for a bit longer while she allowed her thoughts to run free. He deposited the two swords on the counter before leaning his elbow on the counter with forced casualness. Unfortunately, he was a bit too tall to make the move look casual or comfortable and ended up looking like he was just leaning over in cramped pain. Aya cringed at the sight and focused on Xavier ringing up the two swords with his usual efficiency. The girls tried bargaining the price down for a short moment before they came to the realization that the blacksmith in the frilly apron wasn¡¯t going to budge. Aya thought the Xavier could have done it with a bit more subtlety. She wasn¡¯t a fan of cutting prices, either, but sometimes, it was good to give just a little to make the customer feel like he¡¯d gotten a bargain. That feeling would go a long way in guaranteeing future customers and positive word of mouth. In the end, she needn¡¯t have worried; Xavier discounted 2 gold off of one sword and 4 off the other in order to ¡®round the prices down¡¯, but it was obvious from where Aya was standing that he¡¯d done it for the precise reasons she¡¯d just considered herself. The interaction came to an end and the two female customers walked away with wide smiles on their faces as they showed their weapons off to each other, taking the blades out of the sheaths and swinging them around the shop a tad too boisterously for Aya¡¯s liking. The girls left the shop and the elf said something to Xavier, but Aya couldn¡¯t hear what through the low bustle of sounds in the shop. Then Xavier turned away and started tending to the next guest while the elf surveyed the shop for his next ¡®victim¡¯. Aya had considered canceling the guy¡¯s Contract various times that morning. It seemed like he was embarrassing himself and the shop at every turn, but he¡¯d also turned out to have a surprising gift for sales. Even occupied as she was with her own work, Aya had noticed the elf take customers to the counter on various occasions, each time carrying one of the rarer, high-end items they had on display. Thoughtful, Aya rearranged her things, quickly bundling them together before she approached the elf. ¡°Hey¡­¡± Aya said eloquently. ¡°Oh, hey!¡± the elf said, turning to her with a wide smile. Aya found herself wanting to return the smile, even if his faltered when he looked her up and down, probably trying to determine her gender. ¡°Can I help you?¡± he asked. ¡°What are you looking for? Wait¡­ Let me guess¡­¡± he paused dramatically. ¡°A weapon?¡± ¡°No. Actually, I¡­¡± ¡°Oh¡­¡± he said, his face turning suddenly sad, his rehearsed joke spiraling down the drain, unappreciated. Aya half snorted, half chuckled. It had nothing to do with his sad joke, but the elf apparently didn¡¯t see it that way and immediately lightened up again. ¡°Well, in that case we¡¯ve got lots of trinkets for you. We even have Contracts that our¡­¡± The elf turned to gesture to Aya¡¯s spot at the table near the window, when he realized it was empty. ¡°Oh¡­ Well, our resident Scribe must have stepped out. But I can guaran¡ª Wait. You¡¯re the Scribe, aren¡¯t you!?¡± he asked with the excitement of someone who¡¯d just discovered the answer to one of life¡¯s mysteries. ¡°Yeah¡­ I¡¯m also the person you¡¯re currently working for¡­¡± ¡°Oh!¡± the elf said, pensive but not at all ashamed. ¡°I thought you looked familiar!¡± Aya had no words. ¡°So, what¡¯s up¡­ boss?¡± ¡°That perf¡ª¡± the words sounded weird once she started speaking them so she changed tracks. ¡°I just wanted to say I thought you smelled nice.¡± ¡°Thank you!¡± the elf said, beaming at the compliment. ¡°It¡¯s a fragrance I created myself!¡± ¡°Wow, really?¡± Aya asked, encouraging him to answer the questions she wanted to ask without having to. ¡°Yes! When I first got here, the first thing I noticed was how disgusting everyone smelled. And the ladies, they like the smells¡­ ya know?¡± ¡°Yeah, I know¡­¡± Aya said, trying not to snort at his know-it-all tone. In all her twenty-two years of life, she¡¯d never come across anyone as ignorant about what attracted women. ¡°So, just add a little spice here a little magic there and the bitches come crawlin¡¯.¡± ¡°I see¡­¡± Aya said, controlling herself to not point out the obvious lack of ¡®crawlin¡¯ bitches¡¯. ¡°Yeah, it gets them all crazy and they be jumpin¡¯ all over you.¡±Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Aya nodded, realizing how susceptible the guy was to positive reinforcement. He must not be getting much of it for her barely-attentive remarks to embolden him so much. ¡°So, what¡¯s your name again?¡± Aya asked, needing to dial him back a bit before she let him down the track she wanted. ¡°Elfyr, but my friends call me Fyr.¡± Aya wondered how many people that meant. ¡°Ah, cool name,¡± she said noncommittally, hoping he didn¡¯t invite her to start calling him that. ¡°I¡¯m Aya. I was actua¡ª¡± ¡°Right!?¡± he said, as if she¡¯d just agreed with him on politics. ¡°I thought for sure the name would be gone by the time I signed on, but nope. I just said it and¡­ voila. There it was.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think they mind double names in Era¡­¡± ¡°Oh¡­¡± he said, completely deflated. ¡°I thought I was the only one¡­¡± Seeing the perfect opportunity to strike, and get him excited about the right topic, Aya said. ¡°So, I was actually wondering about that sick perfume of yours. Could yo¡ª¡± ¡°It¡¯s not a perfume, it¡¯s a fragrance.¡± ¡°Right. Well, this fragrance of yours¡­¡± she paused, realizing he needed some bolstering before she introduced him to her idea. ¡°It¡¯s really something, man. I was wondering if you could give me some and maybe¡­ teach me some tricks?¡± Getting the last bit out hurt, but she knew it would be necessary to get him in the right mindset. ¡°Tri¡ª Ohhhh. I got¡¯chu covered man. C¡¯mere,¡± Elfyr motioned Aya closer as he strutted toward one of the shelves where four women were standing, browsing through some wares. Aya followed. ¡°Hey girls¡­¡± he said in a much lower and ¡®sultrier¡¯ voice than he¡¯d used with her. All four of the women looked up, but two of them immediately turned back to the goods they¡¯d been looking at. ¡°Can I help you?¡± he asked, oblivious to the obvious lack of interest from all four women and downright rude dismissal from two of them. ¡°What are you looking for? Wait¡­ Let me guess¡­¡± he said, Aya took the liberty of cringing during his dramatic pause before he delivered his ¡®punchline¡¯. ¡°A weapon?¡± ¡°Yeah!¡± one of the women said, a gnome only a head or so taller than Aya. ¡°How¡¯d you know?¡± ¡°Oh you know¡­ I got my ways¡­¡± he said, suggestiveness soaked, deep fried and dripping from his voice. The female gnome nodded excitedly and Aya wondered how long it would take the elf to notice she was making fun of him. The answer: never. In fact, what happened next had Aya¡¯s jaw hanging wide open. She stood by in stunned stupefaction as the elf clowned his way into the good graces of all four women, reviewed their browsing choices and directed them toward another set of shelves with top-of-the-line items. She watched as he waxed poetics over each item, matching it to each woman¡¯s eyes, hair or other feature and eventually had her falling in love with the weapon. Aya finally remembered how to close her mouth when all four women walked out, each wearing a happy grin on her face. Xavier had a similar grin of his own and Elfyr just smirked. ¡°So¡­ you ready to learn?¡± the elf asked, full of cocky satisfaction. ¡°Y-yes.¡± What followed were, in Aya¡¯s opinion, twenty minutes of pure torture. When the elf spotted a new group of girls, he pushed Aya toward them and whispered very obviously in her ear, walking her through what he called ¡®The Moves¡¯. Aya cringed at nearly every single one of them, as they each reminded her of the most annoying things guys ever did. Invade their personal space without permission. ¡®To let them get a proper whiff of your pheromones,¡¯ he said. Touch. ¡®Women love skin on skin contact,¡¯ he said. Throw compliments at them like confetti. ¡®They like feeling special,¡¯ he said. ¡®Most of them have serious daddy issues and suck up compliments like a sponge. You need to be that approving male figure in their life.¡¯ Pretend like you¡¯re hot shit that knows everything. ¡®Doesn¡¯t matter if you know what she¡¯s talking about,¡¯ he said. ¡®Women like feeling protected by men. Stronger, smarter men. And don¡¯t worry about it either. They usually don¡¯t know anything, anyway.¡¯ She forced herself through his guidance and was disgusted to see some of the tactics actually work. After they got to the counter with their second batch of women, and Elfyr¡¯s morale was once more flying, she took him aside. ¡°Dude,¡± Aya said. ¡°I just don¡¯t smell as good as you.¡± ¡°Yeah, you really don¡¯t,¡± he said. ¡°You gotta show me how to make some of that sick¡­ scent,¡± she said. The elf smirked. ¡°Is that an order¡­ boss?¡± ¡°I guess it can be; why?¡± ¡°¡¯Cause it¡¯ll take a while, and we¡¯ll have to leave for a bit.¡± ¡°Far?¡± ¡°Hmmm,¡± he looked up in thought. ¡°For the one I¡¯m wearing today¡­ a bit. But I can teach you one of the simpler ones.¡± ¡°You have more than one?¡± ¡°Of course,¡± he said with a smirk. ¡°Different flowers for different bees.¡± ¡°¡­ Right.¡± Aya was a little worried about running into Serving Time, but the morning had been so monotonous and reminiscent of her library days that she just needed to get out and stretch her legs a bit. The justification for shirking on the debt payment was that all the profitable Custom Forum Contracts had been completed. Any further Contracts she made would have to be sold to the library and would be going for nearly half the price. Furthermore, she was exploring a possible investment opportunity. An hour later, she was convinced of two things: the elf was going to make her a fortune, and he had just wasted two hours of her day. It had taken longer than expected to find all the ingredients for Elfyr¡¯s ¡®fragrances¡¯ and after Aya bolstered his ego a tad too much, he ended up showing her the recipe to not one, but seven different fragrances. Unfortunately, he only decided to reveal that every recipe depended on the Apothecary Skill after all ingredients had been found, harvested, sorted, culled and selectively pressed. ¡°Wait,¡± Aya said incredulously. ¡°You¡¯re saying I won¡¯t be able to actually make any of these myself?¡± ¡°Well that depends,¡± he said. ¡°On?¡± ¡°On whether or not you already have the Skill.¡± ¡°¡­ I don¡¯t,¡± she said, starting to feel the conversation shift into an oddly familiar path. ¡°Well then you¡¯ll need to learn it.¡± ¡°And where do I do that?¡± ¡°The right question would be with whom.¡± ¡°I see,¡± Aya said, refusing to go down the path. One Donovan was enough for a lifetime. ¡°You could learn it with the official NPC Apothecary of Durrenheim,¡± he said. ¡°Or you could ask any player that has his or her Apothecary Skill at Expert or above to teach you.¡± ¡°Is your¡ª¡± ¡°Not high enough, I only learned it at level 43. It¡¯s been a slow grind.¡± ¡°Lev¡ª What level are you?¡± ¡°Fifty-eight.¡± ¡°Wh¡ª Why are you even here then? I¡¯m pretty sure the Basic Contract pays¡­ Well, not enough for a level fifty-eight player, that¡¯s for sure.¡± ¡°I only came to buy a dagger,¡± Elfyr said, patting a jeweled dagger at his waist. ¡°But it turned out to be a good place to meet girls,¡± he said with a smirk. ¡°¡­ How old are you?¡± ¡°Old enough,¡± he said, smirk turning lecherous. ¡°If you know what I mean¡­¡± ¡°Huh¡­¡± Aya said non-committally, not wanting to have ¡®pedophile¡¯ mistakenly added to her Era file. She would have to meet her Goldilocks psychologist that week and Aya didn¡¯t want to explain why she was having inappropriate conversations withsomeone she was sure was a minor. Definitely NOT old enough. ¡°So,¡± Aya said, finally switching the topic back to what she wanted. She¡¯d done enough ego-boosting for a lifetime. ¡°How do you feel about producing these¡­ wholesale?¡± ¡°You mean¡­ to sell at the shop?¡± he nodded his head in the direction of the shop, which they¡¯d finally managed to circle back to. ¡°Exactly,¡± Aya said. ¡°After watching the shop today, I¡¯ve come to the conclusion that we could benefit a lot from greater product variation.¡± ¡°And by product variation you mean¡­¡± ¡°Your fragrances.¡± ¡°Ohhhhhh¡­.¡± There was a drawn out, uninterpretable moment. ¡°So¡­¡± she said when it was becoming obvious he wouldn¡¯t take the conversational initiative himself. ¡°Well¡­. I dunno man. I mean, I kinda like being the only one that smells good. Gives me a boost with the ladies, ya know?¡± ¡°Do you really need it, though?¡± Aya said, smiling with a touch of challenge. ¡°You forget I¡¯ve seen you with the ladies. I don¡¯t think you need much of an advantage at all.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t¡­¡± he started, but Aya saw her words hit home and the gears of his head start clicking in. ¡°You know¡­ I think you¡¯re right,¡± he amended. ¡°I¡¯m doing all men of the world a service. It¡¯d be unfair if I didn¡¯t level the playing ground for them at least a little bit.¡± ¡°¡­ Exactly,¡± Aya said, not even questioning how the guy jumped from one extreme to the other. After that, the negotiation of terms went by in a heartbeat. Aya was expecting Elfyr to play hardball and pitched her offer extremely low. She suggested a low one-time fee for the recipes and the rights to use them for sale. He countered unexpectedly. ¡°I¡¯ll want double that, and I want branding rights.¡± ¡°Branding rights?¡± ¡°Yeah, Like New Spice or Xae in real life, I want to have a brand here.¡± ¡°Done,¡± Aya said before Elfyr realized he¡¯d been played. The most sensible way for him to sell his fragrances would probably have been a fixed cut of the profits or royalty per bottle sold, something that would keep him earning money for as long as the product was being made. Aya¡¯s suspicions that the guy was a young teenager in real life were almost confirmed, but she decided not to go there yet, at least not when she had something to feel guilty about. Manipulation Successful! Your tree flourishes. Stage III: 97% Aya hadn¡¯t seen such a big jump in her Education Tree since Stage I. It had been slowly growing with every single Contract that she made, so much so that she¡¯d eventually just turned off the notifications entirely. She usually checked her notifications in clumps, she only did so now to check on her finances. Not much had changed since the last time she checked; the debt was down to 5,022 gold. ¡°With one condition of my own,¡± Aya added as if she¡¯d planned on continuing the sentence from the beginning. ¡°Shoot.¡± ¡°If you get to decide on the name of the brand, then I will make the down payment in¡­ ten days.¡± ¡°Ten days?¡± Elfyr asked, brows wrinkled in confused suspicion. ¡°Yea, just to be sure the product isn¡¯t a total flunk. Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s how we do things in the real world, too.¡± ¡°Oh¡­¡± Elfyr said uncertainly before adding, ¡°Yeah, yeah. Of course! Ten days!¡± ¡°Alright, great. It¡¯s a done deal, then. Let¡¯s sign a Contract and make everything official.¡± ¡°A Contract, sweet.¡± All doubt about Elfyr¡¯s age went out the window. The moment a Contract was mentioned excitement bubbled up in his eyes and Aya could see a kid in her mind¡¯s eye, jumping at the chance at doing something adult. She went from feeling bad to feeling downright guilty and decided to make an Intermediate Contract with all the bells and whistles she could think of, to maybe soothe her conscience a bit. It didn¡¯t; Elfyr¡¯s excitement only made her feel worse. After a long afternoon of arrangements for yet another production line, Aya¡¯s penultimate Trial Era day came to a close. She managed to pay off the entire 10,000 gold debt with her share of the store¡¯s daily profits, start a new line of products with a new bundle of Contracts using Xavier as a middleman and recruit a new high-level player into her guild by simply asking, even if it was just a pre-pubescent wannabe-lover-boy-elf. The only drawback was that she would have a product line by the name of ¡°Loving like Elfyr¡± lining her shelves starting the next day. Goldilocks Penitentiary System Message: You have 10 minutes to log out. If you do not do so within the allotted time, the system will forcefully do it for you. Meal Serving is due. Chapter 49 Metropolis - Goldilocks: Capsule Bay 423 - Unit 4 Wednesday, May 13th, 2089 | 6:03pm Chris could only describe the walk to the cafeteria as tense. She¡¯d waited until the last possible moment to log out of Era, but even that didn¡¯t let her avoid Doris¡¯ friend forever. Chris had wedged herself in the procession line to the cafeteria as far away from the dark-skinned and white-haired woman as she could get. It backfired on her when not even a full minute later, Chris was last in line with the woman directly ahead of her. It was the furthest position from the guard. With each step Chris took in the direction of the cafeteria, she became more and more convinced that she had stumbled into an intricate chess game; everyone knew the rules but her. The moment she thought she¡¯d caught up to everyone¡¯s moves, she would find herself outplayed and even more behind. Eyes glued on the back of Doris¡¯ friend¡¯s head, Chris waited for another move of some kind. Every time they stopped at one of the control gates, Chris thought the old woman would say something, threaten her, warn her¡­ something! But nothing. The procession of women walked in total silence all the way to the cafeteria. By the time they got there, Chris almost wished something had happened; the silent treatment was driving her crazy. The woman went her own way without even sparing Chris a glance, but Chris¡¯ nerves were frayed and she was on edge as she headed for the food dispenser. Memories of the morning kept her vigilant, looking for any possible line of attack. She watched all women, but classified those with trays in their hands at a lower threat level. Having learned from that morning how hard the women tried to avoid notice from the guards, Chris reasoning led her to believe they¡¯d rather attack without a tray to drop or get in the way. Keeping her hands down by her sides proved to be a challenge as they flinched up at any sudden movement, bracing defensively. Women near her gave her strange and pitying looks every time it happened. The line to the food dispenser seemed abnormally long. The longer Chris stood in it, the slower it moved. Her eyes scanned the cafeteria and the other food dispensers. It felt like she and the women around her waiting in line were stuck in a time bubble while the room bustled with activity. Chris almost got out of the line and headed to a different line, but having to cross the room and make her way past even more women that could potentially want her dead was extremely unappealing. While keeping an eye on the line¡¯s slow progress, Chris scanned the room for friendly and unfriendly faces. Tiny, as always, immediately stood out like a beacon. She was four tables away from where Chris usually sat by the door, which was slightly different from where Chris was used to seeing her roommate, two tables away from the dispenser she was at. Yaz, she detected not long after; the girl had a stridently unforgettable voice. Every now and then, a few words or just the mere sound of her voice would make it through the rest of the cafeteria¡¯s conversations. Chris watched the girl for a moment, noticing how all the women at her table seemed to have absolutely no interest in what she was saying. Some even looked like they¡¯d eaten something sour or were about to be sick. Comforting herself with the fact that Yaz was even more moves behind than herself, Chris took her turn at the dispenser. Raising her wrist to the scanner, her b-link blinked once and a bowl of steaming gruel came out of the dispenser, ready for her to take out, along with the tray and spork. Chris grabbed them, was hit with a fresh wave of the familiar, strong, seaweedy smell of gruel and made her way toward her table before even checking if it was free. Luckily, all she saw was a friendly face, or at least as close to a friendly face as she was bound to get in the given environment. Tanisha. Chris walked toward Tanisha, whose face still looked like it had been hit by a sandbag. She was having an animated conversation with a woman Chris assumed belonged to their new faction. All Chris could tell from the back of the woman¡¯s head was that she was probably Asian, with long, black hair hanging down her back. With her attention focused on her surroundings, trying to avoid a similar breakfast encounter Chris didn¡¯t realize who was really sitting at her table until it was too late. Doris. ¡°Oh, hey, Dearie,¡± Doris said, ¡°Fancy meeting you here!¡± Any chance of getting away unnoticed was completely obliterated. Tanisha looked up at Chris, slightly surprised. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you knew Doris!¡± Chris opened her mouth to reply, but suddenly it felt like she had a toad lodged in her throat. She swallowed and when it still didn¡¯t clear, she forced a cough and made her way around the table. She took a seat to Tanisha¡¯s right. Chris wasn¡¯t going to get away, so she might as well sit down before Doris invited Chris to sit down beside her. There was always a worse situation. ¡°Yeah, we¡®ve met,¡± Chris said with a smile on her face. It felt faker than a spray tan, but hopefully it wasn¡¯t as obvious as one. ¡°Come now, don¡¯t be like that,¡± Doris said chidingly. ¡°And here I thought we were getting on so well.¡± Chris clutched her spork in her hand and held it on the table, unwilling to lift a shaking hand. She did not want to show weakness, and the woman¡¯s thinly veiled words were getting to her. ¡°In fact,¡± Doris continued airly, driving the point home. ¡°I thought we¡¯d come to an agreement.¡± The edge in Doris¡¯ eyes left absolutely no doubt as to what she was referring to. Chris swallowed, once more reacquainting herself with the toad in her throat. Even Tanisha was becoming aware of the growing tension between them, and Chris had no idea how to disperse it. After being on edge for so long, Chris felt like anything she said could be construed the wrong way. She couldn¡¯t talk, she couldn¡¯t move, she was practically paralyzed. Feeling weak and stupid, Chris bit down on the inside of her cheek hard enough to make it bleed. Tasting the iron in her mouth cleared her head. If she could go against nature¡¯s self-preservation instinct, she could smooth things over with one Asian lady. Chris nodded, using the movement to disguise her unstable hand. She loosened her grip on the spork enough for her to stop using it as a lifeline and use it the way it was intended to instead. ¡°I thought so, too,¡± Chris said. Chris didn¡¯t want to go on the defensive, but she wasn¡¯t ready to go on the attack. Her word choice was ambiguous enough to avoid a direct confrontation, yet firm enough to prove she had a backbone, something Chris knew Doris respected. Doris¡¯ face remained unreadable as always. Doris¡¯ scar pulled her lips into a jagged smile, distorting her face into a grimace that still unsettled Chris¡¯ stomach. Chris shoveled some gruel to see if the food would calm it a bit. If anything, it had the exact opposite effect. All the gruel ended up doing was distract her from the conversation and bringing her attention to the gruel itself. Chris was so used to ignoring the paste and its taste on its way in and down that it caught her off guard by how it tasted. It was salty. Not very much, but enough for her to notice and enough for her to know that it must be something that wasn¡¯t there before. The taste shocked her. She¡¯d had a ¡®good¡¯ meal here and there in Era over the last week, but this was the first time she¡¯d really tasted anything that wasn¡¯t downright vile since she arrived at Goldilocks. Her mouth instantly started salivating, though her mind still labeled the gruel as ¡®atrocious¡¯. Slightly less disgusting, but disgusting nonetheless. ¡°Ah,¡± Doris said, knocking Chris out of her thoughts. ¡°Looks like one little birdie found the crumb trail. Don¡¯t get lost in the woods, girlie, you know what¡¯s in there.¡± ¡°...What?¡± Tanisha asked. ¡°The big, bad wolf?¡± Chris asked with a hint of sarcasm, wanting to direct the conversation down a different path. ¡°Actually, I do believe this story ends with an old witch,¡± Doris said pensively. ¡°Yes, that woman¡­ she must have been very unhappy to eat such innocent, sweet children for breakfast.¡± ¡°You sure it wasn¡¯t dinner?¡± Chris asked. Doris flashed a quick grin before she added, ¡°Don¡¯t forget lunch.¡± ¡°Oh, how could I? Those vomit-bags are unforgettable.¡± Doris shrugged. ¡°Had to make sacrifices somewhere, Dearie. Capsules aren¡¯t going to pay for themselves.¡± ¡°You talking about the Warden?¡± Chris asked. Doris nodded and steepled her fingers over her already-empty plate. ¡°But with all the capsules and all of the inmates¡­ Doesn¡¯t he have tons of cash?¡± ¡°Before all of this,¡± Doris said, un-steepling her fingers to display the room about them. ¡°All ventures have a start-up cost and if you don¡¯t have the liquid capital, you have to make certain sacrifices.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Chris said, considering. ¡°But that was before. Shouldn¡¯t he have stopped it by now?¡±This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. ¡°Why?¡± Doris asked. ¡°By now, it¡¯s a custom. The women are used to it and it¡¯s a way to test your commitment to Era and thus him.¡± ¡°But that¡¯s ridiculous,¡± Chris said. Immediately, she regretted her words. There was a beat of silence before Doris spoke again in a much lower and more measured tone. ¡°I don¡¯t see why, Dearie,¡± Doris said. ¡°I can see where the man is coming from. A commitment should mean something.¡± Her words cast an immediate shadow of tension over the situation. Chris chewed her once-more tasteless gruel and came to terms with the fact that she¡¯d managed to dig a hole ten feet deep, get in it and bury herself with no escape in sight. ¡°I agree,¡± Chris said slowly when Tanisha had nothing to add to the volatile interchange. It was obvious that Tanisha had no clue about what was going on, but she also wasn¡¯t dumb or curious enough to try and find out. The woman simply ate her gruel in peace and waited for the other two to battle it out. Tanisha had learned the hard way that a fight that didn¡¯t involve her was a good fight. The silence multiplied and then, unchecked, grew exponentially. Soon, it loomed, insurmountable, before her. The humorous approach had failed, as had the backbone one; trying guilty or weak was out of the question, leaving Chris backed into a corner. It felt like the whole week had been a huge lead-up to this moment. A moment which could and would change everything. Her mouth was dry. She felt awkward taking a sip of water, so she lifted the gruel to her lips once more, only to choke without enough moisture. Coughing, tears came to Chris¡¯ eyes and she was forced to grab the plastic mug to sip at it and unclog her throat. She coughed loudly, finally drowning out the loud noises of the cafeteria around her that had begun to overwhelm her. ¡°Well, well, well,¡± a familiar voice spoke from the head of the table. ¡°What a cozy little group we got going here. You guys don¡¯t mind if we join, do you? Of course you don¡¯t.¡± Chris looked up as she took another slow sip and watched as Velma made her way to Doris¡¯s left side, sitting directly across from Chris. The same tall and thin, black woman from that morning accompanied Velma and took a seat on Tanisha¡¯s unoccupied side. The new additions completely changed the table¡¯s dynamics, but even outnumbered four to one, Doris just smiled like she was still in control. ¡°Want to introduce me to your little friends, Dearie?¡± Doris said. The sentence was posed as a question, but it was obviously a command. Uncertain of how to proceed, Chris tapped her spork on her plastic plate, buying herself some time as she looked up at Velma. A slight nod from the black woman and Chris was obliging Doris¡¯ request. ¡°Velma,¡± Chris said, nodding at Velma. ¡°Doris.¡± ¡°Doris, Velma,¡± Chris repeated. The women then turned their bodies slightly to nod at each other, before once more looking straight ahead. Doris then looked at the woman next to Tanisha, who was busy eating and, for all intents and purposes, completely ignoring the rest of the table. ¡°We, ah¡­¡± Chris said. ¡°Also haven¡¯t officially met yet.¡± ¡°Is that so?¡± Doris said, ¡°I thought I¡¯d heard different. My mistake.¡± The tall and thin, black woman was still ignoring the conversation, a fact that Doris also seemed to pick up on as her smile thinned. She cocked her head to one side and said, ¡°And who is this fine specimen of the human race?¡± Doris¡¯ voice had a cutting edge to it that made a shiver crawl down Chris¡¯ spine, but apparently went completely unnoticed by the black woman, who continued to eat gruel without concern. Fortunately, Velma picked up on Doris¡¯ tone as well and said, ¡°That recalcitrant child there goes by Needle.¡± Velma¡¯s tone was simultaneously sarcastic, deferential and commanding. There were so many different things being said between the lines that it was hard to keep track, but Chris was just relieved to find out for sure that Doris was as important as she¡¯d assumed. After a week in Goldilocks, all Chris was sure of was that she was growing more and more uncertain each day, so it was nice to know she¡¯d been right about at least one thing. ¡°Needle?¡± Doris asked after a moment, obviously considering Velma¡¯s tone. It was a type of interaction Chris had never gotten from Doris and she realized she was watching a sparring match between two superiors. She ate and watched as the women sat next to each other and talked calmly between bites without making eye contact. ¡°Yes, it¡¯s quite an interesting story, actually.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure,¡± Doris said, though there was zero interest in her voice. ¡°I wasn¡¯t aware you knew Barbie,¡± Velma said, looking straight through Chris. ¡°We¡¯re acquainted,¡± Doris said without any inflection whatsoever. Chris found herself scratching at the metal table¡¯s plasticized surface with her left hand. She¡¯d considered the possibility of offending Doris, but she hadn¡¯t expected it to be this bad. How could someone like Chris be so important to Doris that she would be so upset? Was it just a matter of principle? Chris had definitely not expected to be sitting across the table from two women discussing her fate like they were talking about paint thinner. ¡°Ah,¡± Velma said. ¡°I was not aware.¡± ¡°Seems like your recruitment process has started early this round,¡± Doris said. ¡°Extenuating circumstances¡­ you know.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t. But I guess I must. Tomorrow should be an exciting day.¡± ¡°Indeed,¡± Velma said, eyes suddenly focusing on Chris. ¡°We¡¯ll be able to see everyone¡¯s true worth.¡± Chris choked on her food and tried to wash it down with water, but the women continued their conversation like she wasn¡¯t even there. ¡°I believe in the underdog,¡± Doris said. ¡°Some people end up surprising you.¡± ¡°They do,¡± Velma said. ¡°Then again,¡± Doris said, ¡°some people are just disappointing investments.¡± ¡°Also true.¡± ¡°Guess we¡¯ll know more tomorrow.¡± ¡°Sure will.¡± As if on cue, both women stopped the fluid exchange of words and went back to focusing on the food in front of them. Chris¡¯s legs were shaking under the table, but she just hoped her lack of composure didn¡¯t show above the table-top. ¡°You ok?¡± Tanisha whispered beside her. Chris clamped down on her emotions, annoyed she was letting them get the best of her. There was no room for fear or regret right then; they would just be getting in the way of clear thinking. She nodded. ¡°Yep.¡± She smiled. Unconvinced, Tanisha had opened her mouth to say something in return when someone slammed her tray down across the table next to Doris, in front of Needle. Chris looked up to see Freddy sinking down with an equal lack of grace, shaking the entire table in the process. The dishes clattered and the trio of women on the other end of the table frowned at them. Chris lowered her head apologetically and was relieved to be out of the spotlight once more. ¡°So, this is gonna be fun right?¡± Freddy asked loudly. ¡°Fun?¡± Needle asked, suddenly inspired to speak. ¡°Yeah, getting all the new peeps sorted tomorrow. It¡¯s gonna be fun. I can already hear the murmurs of complaints in their voices¡­¡± Freddy twisted her whole body to look back at the cafeteria, making the rest of them, save Velma and Doris, look as well. Chris had been too preoccupied with her own safety to pay the general mood of the cafeteria any mind. She took the time now to see how voices were raised, groups bundled up, eyes darting here and there, many of them even directed at their table. ¡°Ohmigod! Ohmigod! Chris!¡± Chris jerked at the loud, shrill voice screeching her name. ¡°Ugh, I haven¡¯t seen you in like¡­ forever!¡± Chris looked up to face Yaz. The girl¡¯s bare hands didn¡¯t go unnoticed as Chris was still used to checking for possible sources of threat. She wondered if Yaz would be capable of stabbing her, then she wondered why she would doubt the potential for evil in a room full of criminals. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say forever,¡± Chris said neutrally. ¡°I mean, we haven¡¯t even been here for a full week.¡± Yaz rolled her eyes dramatically and plopped down next to Velma without asking or even looking at her. ¡°You know what I mean,¡± Yaz moaned with a pout. ¡°Every day in Era feels like years. Ohmigod. So stressful only being able to see your rank when you log out!¡± Chris nodded, eating small sporkfuls of gruel at a time. Yaz would talk by herself and while Chris was chewing she couldn¡¯t be blamed for the girl¡¯s inability to read or process the scene. ¡°It¡¯s okay though,¡± Yaz said, continuing to speak without restraint. ¡°I finally made it past dud-territory. Ugh, I was so worried until yesterday. Those last hundred ranks are killer, aren¡¯t they? Meh, I¡¯m sure you¡¯re way past that.¡± Chris nodded outwardly, but internally, she wanted to jump over the table, clamp Yaz¡¯s mouth closed, slap her and maybe strangle her for good measure. The stress was getting to her. ¡°Doris,¡± said a quiet, deferential voice, its owner taking a seat next to Yaz. ¡°Agnes,¡± Doris said in recognition. Before Chris could begin to process the new addition, Yaz stood up quickly, knocking over her own cup of water. Chris dove to save it since the girl was seemingly indifferent. ¡°Doris!?¡± Yaz screeched. ¡°I didn¡¯t see you there!¡± ¡°Shocking,¡± Doris said with a friendly smile. ¡°What you been up to, girl!?¡± ¡°Being imprisoned, mostly. Yourself?¡± The question was enough invitation for Yaz to sit down and start in on her monologue again. ¡°Leveling like crazy, that¡¯s what!¡± Yaz said. ¡°Took me forever, but I¡¯m finally at level 23. Rank¡­¡± Yaz¡¯s eyes scrolled through an unseen menu for a moment before she said. ¡°5059. Man, Getting through the 5,200s was killer. But after that, it was smooth sailing. There¡¯s gotta be a lot of people clumped on the border of duds and players.¡± There was silence at the table from everyone else. Beside Chris, Tanisha¡¯s body had gone completely stiff and the woman had stopped eating the moment Yaz started openly shouting out information that had gotten Tanisha beaten to a pulp. ¡°Turns out our little group of friends has a new vacancy,¡± Doris suddenly said. She was looking straight at Chris, but she was talking to Yaz. ¡°You interested, Sweetie?¡± ¡°I dunno,¡± Yaz said, completely unaware of where Doris was looking. ¡°Is it just a bunch of old women like you guys?¡± Doris smiled enigmatically. ¡°I¡¯d say we¡¯re quite a¡­ diverse group.¡± ¡°Hmmmm,¡± Yaz said. ¡°I dunno¡­ Is this some affirmative action bullshit?¡± The entire table tensed. Chris was not yet sure of who exactly Doris was, but she did know that that was no way to talk to the woman. Chris¡¯s jaw locked up. The moment it seemed like her situation couldn¡¯t get any worse, it did. Yaz had absolutely no tact, and her actions were starting to reflect back on Chris. Lifting her hand, Chris started shoveling the gruel down with renewed purpose. She needed to get out of there before anything else happened. ¡°Looks like I¡¯m late to the party,¡± another familiar voice said, breaking into the conversation and completely annihilating any possibility of escape. ¡°The whole cast is assembled, so I guess my invitation must have gotten lost in the mail. It¡¯s a shame, really¡­¡± Tiny said as she took a seat next to Chris. ¡°If I¡¯d known the date beforehand, I could have prepared something. I make a mean artichoke dip.¡± There was silence at the table. ¡°What?¡± Tiny said, digging into her food like a lumberjack and talking around it with the manners of one. ¡°You guys don¡¯t like dip?¡± Chapter 50 Metropolis - Goldilocks: Wing-E / Block 5 | Room 0812/5826 Thursday, May 14th, 2089 | 12:00am Chris stared at the bunk above her, seeing nothing in the inky darkness. It was the middle of the night, but she couldn¡¯t sleep. Her eyes were wide open, aching in exhaustion, but they just wouldn¡¯t close. This was it, the last day, Chris¡¯ last chance to redeem herself. She¡¯d checked her rank, and she knew what she was up against, how far she still had to go. [5470/5791] She¡¯d missed matching Yaz¡¯s level 15 rank by a single rank, one. It was as if her rank were mocking her, taunting her with the fact that even after dedicating an entire day to paying off a huge part of her debt, she still couldn¡¯t measure up to a teenager ¨C a very annoying, obtuse teenager. At least, that¡¯s how the girl was in real life. Chris was coming to realize how little the real world mattered in Era, and conversely, how much Era mattered in the real world. Repeatedly clenching and loosening her fists, Chris tried to lull herself to sleep. She counted sheep, listened to the rhythmic breathing of the woman above her, listened to the waves of her virtual environment but still, she remained completely awake. Chris had been on edge since the moment she¡¯d arrived at Goldilocks ¨C no, before that, since the moment her parents died ¨C but this was the first night that it kept her from sleeping. She knew she¡¯d need energy in the morning, but her brain wouldn¡¯t shut down. Her thoughts kept circling back to dinner and her eyes once more landed on the bunk above her. She¡¯d been wrong about Tiny, completely wrong. As far as Chris could tell, her roommate wasn¡¯t affiliated with Doris¡¯ or Serena¡¯s faction; that only left Yessica¡¯s. Chris clenched her fists in thought. Did it mean that Chris could trust her roommate, after all? Had the woman ever really done anything that caused Chris harm? Chris¡¯ eyes burned. Her head was pounding and she knew she was just making her situation worse by staying up. The harder she tried to sleep, the harder it became. She had one day to solve all of her problems, but she already knew it wasn¡¯t going to be anywhere near enough. Sid had given her fleeting hope the day before, but with her new rank, it had sunk like an anchor. There was no ¡®pending¡¯ anymore, no miracle way out, no argument she could use to win the Warden over, no matter what Suerte said. Curling up into a ball, Chris almost cried. She really wanted to, her eyes were begging for it, but crying just made things worse. She¡¯d simultaneously lose body moisture and start a vicious cycle of self-pity. No, she was better than that. Chris straightened her body again and resumed her careful watch of the bunk above her. ¡°Sleep, Barbie,¡± Tiny suddenly groaned from above. ¡°You¡¯re moving too much.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± Chris said. ¡°Count sheep.¡± ¡°I have.¡± ¡°Use the b-link melatonin or just hold still.¡± ¡°The¡­¡± Chris stopped herself. It would take longer to get a groggy answer from the woman than to discover it for herself. Opening the search bar, she entered ¡®melatonin¡¯ and was surprised by the first result. [Accept Melatonin Dose] There was a moment of doubt, but she clicked accept. She¡¯d seen people buy the pills at the supermarket on many occasions. She¡¯d never had need of or money for it herself, but she figured it couldn¡¯t hurt. Everything else had already failed, so what other option was there? Chris accepted the dose and waited for it to take effect. ¡°Wake up!¡± Tiny was suddenly shouting in her ear, shaking her awake. Chris jerked up and pushed herself away from the woman, immediately on defense. ¡°Woah there, Barbie, just getting you up. You were snoring like the dead, and well. We gotta go.¡± Chris checked the time: 6:58. Jumping out of bed, she rushed through her morning routine as the adrenaline of being woken so forcefully wore off. The cafeteria doors were already open by the time they reached them and the usual crowd already dispersed. As Tiny left her as well, Chris tried to gather her wits about her. She was still groggy with sleep and finding it hard to focus on anything, much less watch out for possible avenues of attack. Having had the opposite problem than the night before, Chris fought to stay awake all through standing in line and eating her breakfast. She sat at the same table as Tanisha, but that was about as much as she could remember from the meal. Having never taken the drug before, she had no way of knowing if her dose was too high. Slowly, she noticed the drug start to wear off, but by then, she was already on her way to the Capsule Bays. If that was the effect you could bring upon yourself through the b-link, she didn¡¯t want to know what the Warden could do when he felt like it. Thankfully, the concoction the b-link had infused her with was wearing off enough for her to be aware of her environment. Walking along, she tried stretching her body a bit, only then realizing how stiff it was. She yawned, felt the moisture well up in her eyes and immediately felt a thousand times more awake. ¡°Joined the land of the living then, Barbie?¡± Chris jerked around, expecting to see Tiny, only to be confronted with Needle lurking above her with her thin height. ¡°Oh¡­¡± Chris said uncertainly. ¡°Morning.¡± ¡°Word to the wise,¡± Needle said. ¡°Don¡¯t dope yourself more than you can handle.¡± ¡°More than I can¡ª¡± ¡°Five-Eight-Two-Six!¡± Chris heard the guard yell. ¡°Don¡¯t make me say your name again!¡± Needle nudged Chris forward and only then did Chris realize she was 5826. Looking down at her uniform, she saw the velcro tag on it before she was herded into the capsule to face her last chance to be more than just a forgotten number. ¡°Finally decided to join us today, have you?¡±The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Aya looked around, momentarily caught off-guard by how she could suddenly think clearly. All of the grogginess disappeared the moment she stepped into Era. Aya was standing in her store, behind the counter, lamely looking at a torso in front of her. The sad thing was, it wasn¡¯t even the upper part of the torso. No, her direct line of view mainly contained the bottom half of the torso. ¡°Hellooooooo!¡± another voice said from beside her, sticking a hand in front of her face before snapping long, elven fingers impatiently before her. Aya¡¯s first impulse was to slap the obnoxious hand away, but she¡¯d been taking too many brusque actions of late, so instead, she took a deep breath while taking a step back. ¡°There we go!¡± Elfyr said, coming into view next to Xavier, crossing his arms as the blacksmith in his frilly apron had done. ¡°Come on,¡± said Xavier ¡°there are a bunch of people waiting for Contracts already.¡± ¡°And don¡¯t forget the people lining up for some Elfyr lovin¡¯!¡± Elfyr added excitedly. ¡°And what¡¯s she got to do with that, kid?¡± ¡°Well¡­¡± Elfyr said uncertainly. ¡°It¡¯s exciting.¡± ¡°Great, woohooo,¡± said Xavier, untangling his arms long enough to give a sad imitation of jazz hands. ¡°Can we please get to work now? Go work the floor.¡± ¡°Sir, yes sir!¡± Elfyr said, mockingly coming to attention. Xavier rolled his eyes and went back to the counter. Aya watched him, but before he started attending the next customer, he turned around to look at her. ¡°Well, come now,¡± he said, waving her toward him. ¡°We got work to do.¡± Aya shook herself clear of the surreal feeling of Era and got to work with the custom Contracts people were asking for. The next couple of hours went by in the same way. She worked on Contracts requested in person, Contracts she found in the Forums and even some that came directly to her inbox from people that she¡¯d done commissions for already. It seemed like her name was spreading in the Contracts community. As her hands continued to move over parchment after parchment, Aya kept thinking about how much time she had left in the day. Was paying back debt really the best thing she could be doing right now? Part of her wanted to go out and level up as fast as she could, but she knew it wouldn¡¯t be enough. The work she¡¯d put into her stats was not a sunk cost, it was an investment and if she backed out now, it would turn into a loss. The only problem was that she couldn¡¯t go out yet, not without high-level company. Her inbox had once more been spammed with dozens of Serving Time messages threatening her life. Sighing, Aya knew her only option was to wait and hope for the best. She¡¯d messaged Foot the day before, but the boy had still not gotten back from his quest. Donovan was still, as far as she knew, working for Serving Time and avoiding her like the plague. All her other high-level ¡®friends¡¯ were either busy with their own enterprises or really not interested in traipsing through the region, protecting her sorry ass from criminals just like herself. Aya sighed again. ¡°Stop it with the sighing!¡± Xavier yelled with absolutely no regard for the customers in the shop. ¡°If you dislike being here so much, then go elsewhere.¡± ¡°But I¡­¡± ¡°Go check on that NPC you¡¯ve got building your coop or whatever. Just¡­ get out from under my skirt.¡± ¡°You really are being a downer, Aya,¡± Elfyr said as he approached the counter. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to say anything, you know¡­ In case it was because of your lady days¡­¡± Aya rolled her eyes and packed up. She was obviously just getting in the way there. The moment she stepped out of the shop, into fresh air, she felt better. The weather was gruelingly hot as usual, making her sweat the moment she came into contact with it, but even so, she felt less caged in than she had all day. Stretching her body, she walked toward the chicken coop. The location she¡¯d chosen was not very far from the shop. Ackman was on a support beam, setting the base layers of the roof. The coops would not be installed until the next day. Seeing that her presence would just get in the way, Aya headed toward Nelson¡¯s homestead. The next day, she¡¯d be able to really start looking into the Layhen Egg Contracts, but there was no point in investing any time into it when the returns wouldn¡¯t be immediate and she wouldn¡¯t know until the following day if she¡¯d be able to play full-time. Aya took a few references and made quick copies just in case, hoping to jinx herself in a positive way. Then she headed back out. Aya considered chopping some more wood for Old Ma¡¯am Lulo, but after realizing she could sneak into town, she really didn¡¯t see the point. There was already enough wood with Ackman to get the job done, and there were more efficient ways of gaining strength stats. Plus, she hadn¡¯t seen any effect whatsoever on her rank. Instead, she headed over to the mines in order to oversee her ore business. Being very careful, she drew her cloak up and used her Stealth skill non-stop. It didn¡¯t take long to ascertain that everything was running smoothly and then she was once more left with nothing to do. Serving Time¡¯s threats were real and the only way she¡¯d be able to do anything safely would be to be accompanied by high-level players. Thinking about Foot, Aya checked her messages. Expecting to find her inbox empty, she was stunned when she saw three messages from Foot. [HEY, I¡¯M DONE. COMING OVER NOW.] [HEY, WHERE ARE YOU?] [ALRIGHT, I¡¯M OUTSIDE YOUR SHOP KICKING SOME ASS] Aya didn¡¯t even finish reading the last message before she started running back toward the shop. Her mind was already conjuring up the worst possible scenarios. What kind of ass could a kid be kicking in front of her shop and why? The most likely answer, was Serving Time. After minutes of all-out running, her worst fears were confirmed. Aya arrived at the crime scene too late. All she saw were small pixels floating into the air before Foot turned around to look at her with joyful exuberance. ¡°Aya!¡± he shouted as he ran toward her, tackling her with a hug. ¡°H-Hey¡­¡± Aya said, feeling a little weird about being in a kid-hug where she was shorter than the kid. She didn¡¯t have to worry long, because Foot soon let her go and jumped into recounting the tale of how the ¡®ass-kicking¡¯ came about. ¡°No, but seriously, we were like minding our own business!¡± Aya nodded. ¡°I¡¯m talking for real! Frank!¡± Foot shouted at the mountain of a man who lurked silently behind the kid like always. She wondered for the hundredth time if they knew each other in real life, but asking about real life seemed to be an unspoken no-no, the same way that asking about the crime was in prison, so she didn¡¯t. Frank just nodded, reminding Aya of the story Foot was telling. ¡°So then they were real rude to the apron-guy and I don¡¯t think Frank liked that very much, did you, Frank?¡± Frank was expressionless. ¡°So then we pulled them outside and taught them some manners. You can¡¯t jus¡¯ go around like that being dissispectful to people, can you, Frank?¡± Frank shook his head. The story had so many holes in it, Aya knew she¡¯d have to talk to Xavier to get the complete version. The kid was obviously too focused on little details to be able to recount the whole picture and Frank¡­ getting words from the large man was like pulling teeth. Though, pulling teeth was probably easier. She needed to find out exactly what had happened to know what to do about it. Now that Foot and Frank had killed whoever had shown up, there wasn¡¯t much she could do to undo it, but she had to stop the situation from escalating as much as possible. Her guild had bought Serving Time¡¯s debt and now that she¡¯d completely cornered the market for weapons, it was just a matter of time for them to completely default on their loan terms. When that happened, she¡¯d be able to swoop in and take everything. They¡¯d be so indebted to her through Contracts, she¡¯d have them all playing in the palm of her hands. The secret now was just avoiding them long enough for them not to kill her beforehand. ¡°Hey girl,¡± said a female voice Aya hadn¡¯t heard in quite some time. ¡°Long time no see.¡± Aya turned around to see Furia and the horde of Serving Time members behind her. ¡°Likewise,¡± Aya returned with false bravado from Timbuktu. There was no other explanation; internally, she was ready to melt into a puddle of fearful submission. Never had she seen such a large group of players congregated in one place before. Even Foot and Frank would not be able to kill off dozens of players on their own. They might be able to fight their way out, but she was toast. Xavier was suddenly beside her. ¡°Friends of yours?¡± he asked in a calm voice. She was not calmed. They were four; the others many more. Chapter 51 Metropolis - Goldilocks: Capsule Bay 237 - Unit 2 Thursday, May 14th, 2089 | 08:42am [Status: In-Game] ¡°Sooo¡­¡± Aya started awkwardly, staring at an entire army of angry convicts. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± The mismatched mixture avatars ranging from ogre, to elf, to gnome and human didn¡¯t make them any less intimidating. If anything, it just made it worse. Aya imagined all the possible ways she could die by the hands of criminals in real life, and then extrapolated that into Era with the abilities the virtual world gave them. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Furia scoffed. ¡°Yeah,¡± Aya said, playing dumber than dumb. ¡°To what do I owe the pleasure?¡± ¡°To what do you¡­¡± ¡°To dying, you little dwarf bitch!¡± a high-pitched female voice suddenly yelled. The source of the voice was a few players over and back from Furia, a face she hadn¡¯t seen since Foot had easily killed her two days back. Endoin took a few steps forward, looking ready to attack, until one of Furia¡¯s goons put an arm up to push the woman back into place. Aya received a PM while this exchange was happening. Xavier: Is this going to be a problem? Peeking at the blacksmith, she saw no outward signs that he¡¯d sent her a message. Taking a page out of his book, she replied. Aya: To the shop? Probably. To my person? Most definitely. Xavier: Some of them are very high level, this could be an issue. How strong are these friends of yours? Aya looked back at Foot and Frank. Aya: I think they¡¯re pretty strong. Xavier looked back at Foot and Frank as well. The resulting expression was not comforting. ¡°What¡¯s up,¡± Furia said, ¡°is that you¡¯re a little late on your taxes, honey.¡± ¡°Late?¡± Xavier: I¡¯ve called for reinforcements. Stall them. Aya: How? ¡°Yeah,¡± Furia said. ¡°As in, not on time.¡± Xavier: You¡¯re lucky they¡¯re hated by so many people, but if you can¡¯t even figure out a way to delay them for a little bit, then maybe you deserve a beating. ¡°Oh¡­¡± Aya said and took a moment before she asked. ¡°What taxes are those?¡± ¡°The taxes that say you don¡¯t take away our business without repercussions?¡± ¡°Business?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Furia said rolling her eyes. ¡°As in, stop undercutting us. In fact¡­ Stop selling at all.¡± Aya nodded, as if taking the woman¡¯s words into consideration. ¡°You know,¡± Aya said. ¡°I think you might have something there.¡± Furia¡¯s mouth fell open, acquiescence apparently not the expected response. ¡°I know I do,¡± Furia said. ¡°Oh, good,¡± Aya said, keeping an eye on the other players. ¡°I was wondering what it was.¡± Furia frowned in confusion. ¡°You know,¡± Aya said, feigning awkwardness. ¡°That thing you have stuck in your front teeth. It¡¯s like a greenish, maybe dark brown¡­¡± Furia¡¯s fingers automatically went to her mouth before she glared at Aya. ¡°Oh,¡± Aya said. ¡°I think you got it. Phew, that was bugging me. Anyway, what were you saying? Something about your business?¡± ¡°I was saying,¡± Furia said through gritted teeth, voice trembling with emotion. Aya backed off and let Furia talk. Aya knew she¡¯d already used the acceptable amount of stalling ignorance, and then some. Unfortunately, a heavy dose of sarcasm had worked its way into the conversation. The memories of the woman¡¯s smug look when she¡¯d scapegoated Aya were just too fresh for her to be able to help herself. ¡°You need to shut this little shop of yours down,¡± she nodded towards Nelson¡¯s Shop, ¡°or we¡¯ll do it for you,¡± she said, tilting her head at the group of players behind her. ¡°Oh,¡± Aya said, unable to help herself, ¡°I thought you guys were all here for the group discount.¡± Part of her wanted to kick herself for not being able to keep her mouth shut when she really needed to, while the other kept a careful eye on the rest of the players. Some seemed affronted by her assumption, but there was also a surprising number that wasn¡¯t completely dismissive of it. Foot: Hey, I gotta go do this thing. Be right back. Aya was in the middle of formulating her plan when, out of nowhere, her strongest ally decided to log out. Just like that, she was left with just Xavier and Frank at her side. They were both great players who were probably very strong in their own right, but who also didn¡¯t really care about her well-being. Swallowing, she forced composure into her stance and shrugged as if the pixelated exit of her one protector were totally expected. It was time to drop the sarcasm and do some ass-kissing. ¡°We¡¯ll get a discount, all right,¡± Furia said, stepping in Aya¡¯s direction as she unsheathed her sword. The moment Furia lifted her blade, three other players stepped out of the masses, weapons ready. Going by their gear, Aya knew they were totally out of her or even Xavier¡¯s league. The only player who stood a chance was Frank, and he looked about as willing to involve himself as a slug in a tortoise race. Aya bit her lip, trying to come up with more ways to buy some time. There was no way of knowing how long Foot would be gone for, though she expected it to be quite a while. Even a minute real time was already five in Era. Instead, she pinned her hopes on the reinforcements, of which there was still no sign. Xavier: Remind me to never use you for negotiations. Aya: You didn¡¯t say negotiate. You said ¡®stall them¡¯. Xavier: You call this stalling? Aya: I¡¯m working on it! Xavier: Please, at your leisure. ¡°Well, this is a bit unfair¡­¡± Aya said, trying to goad her way out of it. ¡°Yep,¡± Furia said. ¡°Too afraid I might whip your ass? Is that why?¡± ¡°Nope,¡± Furia said. ¡°Just tired of looking at your ugly mug.¡± ¡°That¡¯s too bad, I guess¡­¡± Aya said, as she tried to come up with a different tack. Apparently, there really was no honor amongst thieves, murderers and criminals.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Donovan: This is sad to watch. Aya: Donovan? Donovan: I will assume you meant that rhetorically. I associate with many unintelligent people, but I try to avoid the outright stupid. It is not a very good rhetorical question, but it is better than the alternative. If you can not recognize and read the name that sent you a PM, I will have to re-evaluate your intelligence level. Unfortunately, it seems to be lower every time we meet. Aya: Good to see you too Donovan. And yes, rhetorically. Because I can¡¯t see you. Where are you? And why are you here? ¡°Wait, wait, wait, wait!¡± Aya said, hopeful Donovan had something up his sleeve, metaphorically. Donovan: Likewise, I suppose, though I prefer to avoid subjectivity. Good. You need to direct your eyes towards me for your brain to receive the visual information regarding my presence. I am eight players behind and three players to your right of Furia. I am here for two reasons. One, because I was required to be here by the guild. Two, to inform you that I have defaulted on Serving Time¡¯s loan payments for the past three days. With the absurdly high interest rate they agreed to, and their atrociously poor management of funds, your ownership has exceeded theirs and you are allowed, by Contract, to seize all of their assets. Aya avoided expressing her shock as Donovan would probably embark on a matter-of-fact crusade to re-explain everything to her in an even more idiot-proof manner. Aya: When you say YOU defaulted on Serving Time¡¯s loan payments¡­ ¡°Wait for what?¡± Furia asked. ¡°Your little guild members to arrive?¡± Donovan: Yes, I used the loophole you put into my Contract. Aya: What did you do with the money? Donovan: Used it for the guild, of course. Aya: Donovan, I love you. Donovan: The sentiment is unnecessary. Aya felt a grin pulling at her lips, but forced the impulse down. ¡°Well, that too,¡± Aya answered, trying to focus on where the conversation had left off. She wanted to jump up and down and shove it in Furia¡¯s face, but she kept her cool and said, ¡°But I was actually wondering if you¡¯d be interested in keeping your guild.¡± ¡°I am keeping it,¡± Furia said, advancing quickly toward Aya. Aya took a couple steps back, raising her hands in deferential defense. ¡°Well, actually¡­¡± Aya said. ¡°As of last night. It actually belongs to my guild.¡± Furia frowned, but showed no signs of stopping her advance, so Aya was forced to retreat faster. Xavier, Frank and Henry showed absolutely no sign of extending a helping hand or claw. Seeing that she¡¯d be in charge of saving her own ass, Aya quickly found the Loan Agreement with its current status and forwarded it to Furia. Furia¡¯s frown deepened, but she still didn¡¯t stop her advance. ¡°I¡¯m serious,¡± Aya said, ¡°Check it. I¡¯ve¡­¡± Furia swung her sword, aiming for a critical hit at Aya¡¯s neck. Aya knew because she¡¯d seen the move countless times by the warrior players she¡¯d taken down into the dungeons. She also knew it was something she wouldn¡¯t have been able to see, much less dodge, a week ago. Surprised by her spot-on instincts, Aya found herself a foot away from the end of Furia¡¯s attack. Aya¡¯s body had moved on its own and it wasn¡¯t immediately obvious who was more surprised, Aya or Furia. The woman obviously hadn¡¯t expected the noob she¡¯d duped less than a week ago to dodge her attack so effectively. If Aya had been on the attack herself, she¡¯d have been able to land a critical hit after Furia opened her stance for such a brash move. ¡°Look,¡± Aya said, using the moment she¡¯d created to talk some sense into the woman. Aya might have avoided one of Furia¡¯s attacks, but she wasn¡¯t confident enough she¡¯d be able to do it again. ¡°Just give me a second. Let¡¯s talk¡­¡± Sounds of metal clashing against metal reached Aya¡¯s ears and she looked towards the source to see Frank readily disposing of two players. Their pixels had barely blown into the wind when ten more, of higher level gear, stepped up to the plate. ¡°If I or any of my friends die, the deed to your guild house, the rights to the market place stand, all of the guild-owned weaponry you¡¯re wearing and even that new piece of land you¡¯ve purchased up on the hills¡­ goes to Jailbait!¡± Aya screamed. If Furia was unwilling to negotiate, she¡¯d force her hand, or at least try to. ¡°What deed?¡± ¡°What¡¯s she¡ª¡± ¡°Thought this¡­¡± ¡°Shop, nothing to do with Jailbait.¡± ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± The desired effect spread through the group, until most of the players were giving either Aya or Furia uncertain looks. ¡°What are you on about?¡± Furia said, gritting her teeth. ¡°Check the Contract I sent you, it should explain everything¡­¡± All of the fighting had paused with Aya¡¯s shout. Aya was relieved to see the three men that had been in the process of attacking Xavier had also backed off. If the blacksmith died there before his ¡®reinforcements¡¯ arrived, he¡¯d never forgive her. Furia¡¯s eyes widened slowly as they skimmed the Contract. Even not being able to see her overlay, Aya could tell Furia even scrolled up to read from the beginning. ¡°This is¡­¡± A man of medium height, dark green hair and a large nose suddenly appeared by Furia¡¯s side. His features were all striking and inhuman in every way, but what stood out the most was his black, spear-shaped tail. It hung down behind his legs with a slight curve that reminded Aya of a scorpion readying itself for attack. ¡°Is this real?¡± Furia asked, eying Aya with a mixture of suspicion and dismay. There was a slight silence as the inhuman man read the Contract. Aya had put a self-destruct timer and a sharing-lock on the message. There was no point in sharing the terms of her Contract with more people than necessary, and it now allowed Aya to identify one of their top players of the region. Furia wouldn¡¯t ask anyone lower than her in the pecking order for advice. ¡°Yes,¡± came the Serving Time¡¯s boss¡¯ eventual curt reply. ¡°You own us,¡± he said to Aya, ¡°so what do you want? What is the point of all this¡­¡± the boss gestured to all of the players behind him. ¡°You tell me,¡± Aya countered, once again regaining her footing. ¡°You¡¯re the one that brought them here.¡± ¡°¡­ I guess you¡¯re right,¡± the boss said. ¡°Well, in that case¡­ we might as well go ahead and do a little bit of cleaning up¡­¡± His face split into a feral smile that revealed gleaming white, fanged teeth that rivaled Doris on the creepy scale. The man lifted his arm, bringing Aya¡¯s attention to his four-fingered hands. Apparently he was ready to cut his losses and exterminate her, or perhaps he figured all was lost anyway, so he might as well enjoy himself on the way out. She watched in horrified fascination as the fingers morphed into sharp points before she could bring herself to scream, ¡°Wait, stop. I got a proposal!¡± The words came out stumbling over each other, but apparently the man understood well enough because he lowered his hand and said, ¡°Better be good.¡± ¡°It is,¡± Aya said. Finding her breath quick and fast, she tried to slow it down before she said, ¡°I¡¯d like fair duels.¡± ¡°Fair duels?¡± the man snorted. ¡°Yeah, what kind of¡ª¡± Furia began. ¡°SHHHT!¡± the man cut her off. ¡°Just be quiet, you¡¯re the one that got us into this mess.¡± ¡°But I didn¡¯t¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯m serious,¡± the man said in a cold, cutting voice. ¡°I¡¯ll PK you on the spot if you say another word.¡± Furia pouted, spun around and walked off, but Aya didn¡¯t miss the way her face lost all of its color before she did it. ¡°So,¡± the man said, as if their conversation hadn¡¯t been interrupted at all. ¡°How exactly do you propose a fair duel take place?¡± ¡°There are three of us and¡­¡± Aya looked behind him. ¡°Quite a few more than you. We are at an obvious disadvantage.¡± ¡°Yes, that was our intention. But as you can see¡­ They are mostly noobs.¡± His tail snapped impatiently behind him. Aya¡¯s instincts wanted her to take a step back, but she forced herself to remain steady. ¡°Well¡­¡± Aya said. ¡°If you want your stuff back, you¡¯re gonna have to play by my rules.¡± ¡°Which are?¡± the man¡¯s voice stretched with impatience. ¡°One on ones,¡± she said. ¡°According to levels!¡± ¡°Mmmm¡­¡± the man pursed his lips in thought. ¡°No. I think I¡¯d rather lose this branch than spend the next twenty hours waiting for your sorry little ass to fight one-on-one against these losers until you die¡­¡± Biting the inside of her lip, Aya tried to figure a way out, but she felt like she¡¯d just spent the last eternity in a concrete maze and finally run into a dead end she couldn¡¯t come back from. ¡°Baaaaack!¡± Foot shouted as he logged in, appearing almost on top of the group of Serving Time players. ¡°Woah!¡± he yelped. ¡°Looks like I missed something!¡± The kid hopped back to Frank before asking, ¡°What¡¯d I miss Frank? What¡¯d I miss?¡± ¡°Not much,¡± Frank said with all the inflection of a rock. ¡°Awwwwww¡­.¡± Foot started to complain when suddenly, they all stopped short to hear the clattering of metal on metal, wood on metal and feet on ground. It didn¡¯t take long for the source of the racket to reveal itself: A horde of players almost rivaling Serving Time in size appeared through the mesh of dry vegetation. They¡¯d come from Durrenheim, the same direction as the Serving Time players and so ended up sandwiching the guild from behind while Aya, Foot, Henry, Xavier and Frank stood in front. The players of the new group contained some bulky, blacksmith-type men, but mostly what looked like crafts-players from Durrenheim. Aya was surprised to see members of her own guild amongst them. She caught a timid smile from Emry, who was hiding behind MageSlayer, who was standing tall like he owned the place. He looked ridiculous in his cheap robe, trying to look down on the richly-clad players around him. It was sad and in a burst of insight, Aya wondered if she inspired the same feeling in Donovan. ¡°Ok,¡± Aya said. ¡°If you want to be a little bitch and fight group on group, let¡¯s have at it.¡± The false bravado was back, but with so many people backing her, she could feel it turning into something real. Even Henry seemed encouraged to act boisterously and bird-snarled at him. Her new confidence didn¡¯t prevent her from taking a couple of steps away from the boss-man ¨C and toward Foot ¨C as soon as she could. Aya passed Xavier, who was also taking a couple steps back from the soon-to-be battlefield. He looked about as happy as a run-over toad. Aya: There. Happy? Aya was quite pleased with herself, and couldn¡¯t help throwing Xavier¡¯s doubt of her back in his face. Xavier: Not really. Aya rolled her eyes, unsatisfied with the answer. Aya: I stalled them. What else do you want? Xavier: A cold beer and my wife by my side. chapter 52 Metropolis - Goldilocks: Capsule Bay 237 - Unit 2 Thursday, May 14th, 2089 | 08:52am [Status: In-Game] A gust of wind blew through the dry grass stalks. The many months of drought had made some of them so brittle that they cracked at the slightest persuasion, succumbing to the seductive whispers of the wind. A few broken stalks brushed Aya¡¯s face on their way through. It was a itchy sensation that was hard to ignore. Many of the other players twitched and scratched at their arms. Luckily, Aya¡¯s coat prevented the same from happening to her. She couldn¡¯t help taking note of the fact that Foot, Xavier, and Frank seemed completely unbothered. Her eyes scanned the members of Serving Time, all of whom were making an effort to control the urge to scratch. The group of players Xavier had recruited was behind Serving Time, and they, like Xavier and Foot, were also completely unperturbed. Pursing her lips, trying to figure out what it meant. She felt like the answer was right in front of her, like she knew it, but couldn¡¯t remember. Her eyes went back to scanning the Serving Time players, but instead of coming up with the answer, she realized that they were all waiting for something, apparently, from her. Aya: So what now? Xavier: For Christ¡¯s sake. Don¡¯t you have anything planned? Aya started composing a reply, but decided against it. If Xavier had something to say, he would say it. Instead of wasting words on him, she had better figure out what to do now. The moment was getting more tense and awkward by the moment. Although it was probably only a couple seconds, it felt like much longer to Aya. Eventually, she found herself just blurting out the first thing that came to mind. ¡°So,¡± she said. ¡°What now?¡± She wanted to kick herself. The scorpion-boss snapped his tail to the side in an almost casual manner. His feral grin took any casualness from the move and replaced it with menace. ¡°I figure it¡¯s in your best interest to agree to my proposal,¡± Aya said before the man had a chance to speak and take advantage of her misstep. ¡°And why is that?¡± ¡°Hmmm,¡± Aya said, holding her chin sarcastically. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s ¡®cause we outnumber your noobs and oh yeah, you¡¯re convicts, so you¡¯ll have to log out soon, I imagine. What? Nine a.m., right?¡± ¡°And you¡¯re exempt from that because¡­¡± the scorpion man said, eyes on the symbol above her head. ¡°Cuz I¡¯m special,¡± said Aya. He looked at her. ¡°Or you¡¯re from Goldilocks.¡± Aya shrugged. ¡°Or that.¡± The inhuman scorpion boss sighed and crossed his arms. Aya could tell he was looking at his display, not her. Not seeing the harm in giving him time to think, she let her gaze wander over the people in the field. Apart from Serving Time members and the group Xavier had recruited, there was now a growing number of spectators by the shop. Many customers had been attracted by the sound or sight of dozens of players, and they in turn had probably called their friends as well. Their customers alone could not account for the number of people watching. Aya: Who is in charge of the shop? Xavier: One of the noobs you hired. Who else? Aya shrugged at the blacksmith, who had given her a sidelong glance equivalent to a sigh and an eyeroll. He was very expressive for a stoic man. ¡°All right,¡± the boss finally said. ¡°What are your proposed rules?¡± ¡°One-on-one fights by level. If there is a level difference, players can still fight if both agree to it. That way, the slightly mismatched can still get a fight in.¡± ¡°All right,¡± the boss said. ¡°But who wins?¡± Aya looked at the horde of criminals behind the man and wondered if she was doing the right thing. Part of her wanted to negotiate with the man so that he¡¯d walk away with his debt and leave her alone. However, as her eyes veered to the side to admire the shop and then back to Furia, who was standing nearby, she couldn¡¯t help but try a winner-take-all approach. Her side didn¡¯t need to know how much she had on Serving Time, all they needed to know was that they had to fight to guarantee their independence from the convict guild. Aya wondered if she should feel guilty about using them, but she comforted herself with the fact that if it weren¡¯t for her, they¡¯d still be in the same situation they were a week ago. ¡°The first side to two hundred and fifty points,¡± Aya said. ¡°One win is one point.¡± Now they just needed a Contract to make things binding. Three fights and countless near-deaths later, Aya was seriously reconsidering her rule choice. Her already-grimy body was now covered with dried blood and sweat. She¡¯d long discarded her robe and deposited her superfluous items in the shop. They¡¯d agreed on a resting period after each fight, but it wasn¡¯t enough to stop fatigue from settling into her bones. No matter how much weight she discarded, her body felt heavier after each fight, her moves more sluggish. Catching her breath, she watched one of the nearby duels. Her side had started off strong, winning most of its first fights, but as Serving Time members logged out and were replaced by fresh convicts, her group¡¯s initial advantage started to slip. Their current score was 199 to 171, their lead was shrinking and they still needed 51 points. At the time, more fights had seemed like a good way to even her odds, but Aya was beginning to think she¡¯d shot herself in the foot with the decision. She¡¯d expected to be an extremely incompetent fighter and had put her first duel off as long as she could, but when the fight against another level 15 player started, she realized she¡¯d been wrong. Her first opponent had been a bulky female warrior with gaudy pink hair. Afraid and skittish, Aya had jumped around as much as she could at first, unwilling to engage in combat, but as she loosened up, she realized how slow her opponent was. Whenever Aya dodged, it would take the pink haired half-ogre another second to finish her attack. With time, Aya saw that second for the opportunity that it was and started launching her attacks. With each attack the pink-haired woman delivered, Aya got better at timing and soon, she found the sweet spot she needed to land critical hits. Unfortunately, the damage Aya inflicted with ten of her carefully-placed attacks was about the same as any of the pink-hair¡¯s attacks. Defeating pink-hair was a slow and grueling process, especially as the warrior had time to heal between attacks, but Aya persevered. The rules dictated that an opponent¡¯s health be brought down to 10% for the player to win and it took a very long time for all of Aya¡¯s Bleed Skills to stack enough to take sufficient effect but eventually, she walked away panting, wounded and tired, but victorious. As the fights progressed, Aya became more confident in her abilities, surprised at how fast she was in comparison to other level 15 players. That confidence almost cost Aya her life in her third fight. The Serving Time member she was paired up against pretended to be a lot slower than he really was for the first half of the fight. It made Aya less attentive than she should have been and the thief almost landed a killing blow to her abdomen. While the Contract would stop any blows below 10% health from taking effect, it couldn¡¯t stop someone from delivering a killing blow at 11 or 12%. Letting herself get caught up in her opponent''s pace was a stupid mistake. The moment Aya realized it, she knew she should have known better. It was the exact way she herself had gained the upper hand in her first two fights. She¡¯d purposefully led her opponents to misjudge her and now she was falling for the same trick. Luckily, she survived the mistake. She was severely wounded and bruised, but alive. She didn¡¯t have much time between her fights and by the time she heard another of Foot¡¯s victorious yowls, it was already time for her fourth fight. Heading over to the rough area they¡¯d established as a match-up zone, Aya was getting ready to start advertising her level when her eyes landed on the back of the head that had caused her to burn with resentment for nearly a week.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Furia!¡± Aya found herself calling out before she could stop herself. Furia turned at the sound of her name, frowning when she saw who was calling her. They approached each other in silence, giving Aya time to reconsider her actions. Instead, she spent all of it thinking about how Furia had duped her in the past and set Aya¡¯s progress back the entire week. By the time they were facing each other, all that Aya could think about was payback. ¡°What do you want, you little midget-ass bitch?¡± Furia asked. ¡°To tear you a new one,¡± Aya said, provoked by the woman¡¯s obvious dismissal of her. ¡°But I guess beating you on a one-on-one will have to do.¡± ¡°You want to duel me?!¡± Furia asked incredulously. ¡°Unless you¡¯re too scared. I guess I do need to ask for consent, since our levels are different and all.¡± ¡°You do realize I¡¯m two levels higher than you, right?¡± ¡°Which makes this¡­¡± Aya made a hand gesture between them, ¡°all that more pathetic.¡± ¡°You¡­¡± Furia started, but then just crossed her arms and said. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s so on, you little dwarf-ass-bitch.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Aya asked, scoffing. ¡°That¡¯s the best you got?¡± Furia clenched her jaw in anger and Aya grinned. They signed their names to the Contract for the duel. It would make sure no more cheap shots were allowed after someone¡¯s health got below 10%. Then, they made their way to the nearest open space they could find amongst the dozens of fights going on simultaneously. It took them a while to find one and by the time Aya got there, she was seriously reconsidering her revenge-driven actions. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she told herself she could do it. Aya had been able to evade one of Furia¡¯s attacks, which meant it was possible and repeatable. Bending her knees, she readied herself for an attack. After watching countless of beasts killed by Donovan and other players, Aya had discerned a general attack pattern. After killing some herself, Aya knew that unless you knew you overpowered your opponent, making the first move was stupid. Putting the knowledge she¡¯d learned over the last week to use, she crouched and waited. As expected, Furia didn¡¯t even take a breath before she launched an all-out attack. Aya saw all kinds of openings in the woman¡¯s form, but decided to err on the side of caution. The chances of Furia¡¯s attack being powerful enough to kill her in one hit were low, but Aya also knew that her character was very ¡®squishy¡¯. So instead, she sidestepped it, but three evasions later Aya was already regretting her decision. Furia was on a completely different league from all the other players she¡¯d fought. The woman probably belonged to a warrior class of some sort, but it was obvious from her moves that she¡¯d also invested a significant amount of time into her speed and agility stats. The woman got faster with each move, matching Aya¡¯s speed and then some. Aya tried to use her previous strategy of evasion and small, cumulative attacks, but it soon became obvious that it wasn¡¯t going to work. All the other times, she had time to dodge and counterattack before the opponent could recover from their attacking move. Furia however, was ready to retaliate almost instantly. They went around and around, Furia launching attack after attack while Aya dodged them one after another. Furia was becoming more and more irritated with Aya¡¯s evasive maneuvers and Aya was becoming more and more fatigued with every move. Suddenly, Furia took a break, leaning her sword on the ground while she smirked at Aya. The bitch knew Aya couldn¡¯t make the first move, and because of that, Furia would eventually have the advantage. Aya gritted her teeth, hating the woman more every second. The hatred Aya felt for the con-woman came to full bloom, festering with malice. Aya wished that discarding unnecessary weight hadn¡¯t also resulted in her stashing away her last vial of Slither venom. She could think of more than a couple of uses for the vial at that moment. However, it looked like she wouldn¡¯t be able to rely on any dirty tricks. She¡¯d have to remain vigilant for them ¨C she wouldn¡¯t put anything past Furia, not anymore ¨C but Aya would only be able to rely on her own skills for the fight. Not even her squawking sidekick was doing her any good. Henry was being more of a distraction on the sidelines than anything else. Aya felt a hot wind around her ankles, and before she could process exactly what she was doing, she¡¯d activated her Stealth and was on the attack. Aya¡¯s move took Furia as much by surprise as it had Aya, but the moment she felt the warm wind, she knew it would be her only chance. The use of Stealth would only give her a split-second advantage, but paired with the sand-loaded wind that grated on the extra-sensitive skin of all convicts, Aya was able to take advantage of the moment to use Bleed and stick her dagger all the way in Furia¡¯s throat. It was a critical hit; Aya didn¡¯t need the silent notifications to know that. It took half of Furia¡¯s health and one of her hands went up to clutch at her neck, while the other gripped her sword more tightly. Furia¡¯s look of contempt was immediately replaced by one of cautious hate. Aya knew that look, it was probably the look she¡¯d worn the whole week. Furia grimaced and snarled as if she were the one that had a grudge. Aya¡¯s critical Bleed hit was taking effect and Furia¡¯s health was soon down to 30%. With 20% left to go, Aya didn¡¯t have the chance to slow down. If Furia recovered now, she¡¯d never let Aya get so close again. Suddenly, Aya just saw Furia as another opponent. The woman¡¯s sudden change of demeanor toward Aya had shown her something she should have seen a week ago. At the end of the day, the bitch was just a bitch. The way Aya saw it, she¡¯d have to deal with dozens of them until she was through with her time at Goldilocks. Why get hung up on this one? With this new mentality at hand, the rest of the fight went by in a flash. Aya¡¯s moves were no longer hampered by emotion. With a purely clinical view of her movements she was able to see more clearly, move more quickly, react more decisively. Before she knew it, Aya was witnessing Furia¡¯s final hate-filled glare before she pixelated out of existence. Aya might or might not have ¡®accidentally¡¯ pushed Furia¡¯s health to 11% before using the Bleed skill with her remaining dagger aimed at the left side of Furia¡¯s neck. Aya was spent. Furia¡¯s fight had taken way longer than it should have and her other fights had also been on the long side. There was another fight awaiting her, but she just needed a moment to catch her breath. Before the next duel, Aya made a point of going back to the shop and collecting a couple of the items she¡¯d felt the absence of during her fight. Part of her felt like it was cheating, but the larger part chose to listen to her imaginary Donovan-voice that told her in his stoic, matter-of-fact way that it wasn¡¯t cheating to be prepared. When the Slither venom, an extra blade and a couple scraps of cloth were secured around her person, Aya made her way back to the player-filled field. She¡¯d need to find another opponent soon, before any more Serving Time members were exchanged. With each new wave of fresh convicts, it was becoming harder for her group to maintain the lead. She checked the score and was horrified to see that it had almost disappeared. 246 : 245 Out of the corner of her eye, Aya saw Donovan paired off against the scorpion-boss. The boy had moved over to their side at some point during the initial rounds, completely going back on his previous statements of not wanting to put himself at risk. The man Donovan fought was a lethal weapon, using his tail as a natural extension of his body. Aya couldn¡¯t help but wonder how long it had taken the scorpion-man to master an extra appendage in the game. Getting used to her lower height was about all she seemed able to manage. On Donovan¡¯s side, there wasn¡¯t much to tell. The boy was as expressive as always, dodging and moving like he was mimicking sketch-book poses. They looked unnatural, but the transition between them was so fluid you didn¡¯t notice until it was already over. It seemed like only a few seconds later, Donovan was standing above the scorpion man with a sword to his throat. Aya then watched as Donovan carved an X into the man¡¯s chest and said, ¡°Ten percent¡± before cleaning his sword, sheathing it, and walking off. 247:246 Donovan¡¯s score helped them, but another fight had also ended badly for her side. Some jeweler had been paired against a fresh Serving Time ogre and was promptly disemboweled. Luckily, the remains floated away in colorful little pixels, leaving nothing other than a depressing score behind. Looking for one of the last duels, Aya caught the final moments of one of Xavier¡¯s fights. The blacksmith had gone undefeated and as his hammer crashed into his adversary¡¯s skull, it seemed like he was intent on keeping it that way. 248:246 Taking a deep breath, Aya decided it was time to hunt down her last opponent, but before she could even move, she heard a group of new arrivals. Aya cringed when she saw over a dozen new Serving Time members arrive to the scene. She was regretting not having moved faster on seizing an opponent when she realized something was different about this new group of arrivals. Unlike most of the Serving Time members they had been fighting, these were much better equipped. One of them had armour that was completely detailed with gold highlights. If the craftsmanship had been anything less than perfect, the piece would have been the gaudiest piece of metal in existence. As it was, Aya could only be amazed by it. After seeing so many pieces of armor in the shop, she¡¯d gained some appreciation for good work. When the man approached and she didn¡¯t hear a single clink or scrape from his armour, she knew he was the real deal. ¡°YESSSSS!¡± Foot suddenly shouted, coming to stand beside her. ¡°Finally, someone strong.¡± Aya looked at the kid, whose eyes were glittering with excitement, and then back at the approaching figure. The man was of medium height, green eyes and tan skin that was covered in what initially looked like tattoos. When he got closer, Aya realized it was just his skin. Aya tried to think back to the character creation menu, but couldn¡¯t think of what species the man belonged to. ¡°So,¡± said the nicely-armored guy, ¡°you¡¯re the one causing us all the trouble here?¡± ¡°Trouble?¡± Aya asked, looking at the rest of the players in his group. Although they were all armed in much higher quality gear than the Serving Time members thus far, none of them rivaled the leader in level. In fact, most of them seemed to be in the high teens or low twenties. She¡¯d become quite adept at recognizing levels by gear at the shop, but she hadn¡¯t known the skill would be paying off so soon. As Aya looked over the players, one of them stood out. It was a tall girl with bright orange skin and dark red hair streaked with lighter red. She reminded Aya of someone, but Chris couldn¡¯t place her immediately. The colorful features the girl had chosen were too overwhelming. ¡°Yes, trouble,¡± the man said. ¡°If I have to involve myself directly. It¡¯s trouble.¡± ¡°Can I fight him!?¡± Foot interrupted. ¡°Can he be my partner? No one else wants to!¡± Foot made puppy eyes at her, but since the boy was taller than Aya, the effect was greatly diminished. ¡°Ohmigod, ohmigod,¡± said the eerily familiar girl, stepping up next to the not-tattooed man ¡°is that you, Chris?¡± The face immediately registered and a feeling of pure dread sunk into Aya¡¯s stomach. Shock coursed through Aya¡¯s body and propelled a word out before she could think twice about the implications. ¡°¡­Yaz?¡± Chapter 53 Metropolis - Goldilocks: Capsule Bay 237 - Unit 2 Thursday, May 14th, 2089 | 09:12am [Status: In-Game] ¡°I¡¯m assuming that means you guys know each other?¡± asked Serving Time¡¯s new, non-tattooed arrival. Aya looked at the flame-haired girl. There were too many of Yaz¡¯s features beneath the orange surface for Aya to be able to deny the girl¡¯s identity. ¡°Yes!¡± Yaz¡¯s avatar squealed before Aya could get a word in. ¡°She¡¯s the one I was telling you about!¡± Aya definitely couldn¡¯t deny knowing that very memorable voice. [Do you wish to accept Cazcade¡¯s friend request?] [Yes | No] Uncertain of how to respond to the request, Aya pretended she hadn¡¯t seen it and instead focused on the conversation . ¡°Interesting,¡± the man said, ¡°and here I thought¡ª¡± ¡°Pleaseeee?¡± Foot suddenly interrupted, ¡°we still have one more fight to win. I want to fight him. Let me, let me, let meeeeee!¡± ¡°And you are?¡± the tattoo man asked, looking derisively at Foot. The fact that Foot was just a kid was plainly obvious, and the fact that the man hated kids was just as obvious. It was one of those things you could tell, like the way dog-people looked at cats. ¡°My name is Foot!¡± Foot said happily oblivious to the man¡¯s contempt. ¡°What¡¯s yours?¡± ¡°Nemis.¡± ¡°Cool, you ready to fight?¡± Foot asked, introductions apparently over. ¡°If I win then it¡¯s over, right Aya?¡± ¡°¡­Yes,¡± Aya said, ¡°the score is still 249 : 248.¡± ¡°See! It¡¯s just one more point to 250!¡± Foot said proudly. ¡°I just gotta beat him. That¡¯s one point.¡± The man¡¯s eyes were unreadable to begin with, but a shiver of annoyance at Foot¡¯s childish antics slipped through them. ¡°And what if I win?¡± Nemis asked in the same tone that you would if you were helping a child with homework. That is, if he were a very stupid child you¡¯d been teaching for hours, had given up on and were about to kill, cut up and feed to the sharks before his mother came home. ¡°But, I¡¯m gonna win.¡± Foot said simply, completely oblivious to any murderous intent. Nemis¡¯ back straightened and Aya could tell he was trying to control himself. Apprehension coursed through Aya¡¯s body and she wondered if she was doing the right thing, having Foot around all these convicts, especially the men. It might be sexist of her to think this way, but female convicts were one thing, and male convicts were something completely different, especially around children. ¡°Hey, Kid,¡± Nemis said. ¡°Why don¡¯t you let the grown-ups talk for a sec? We¡¯ll get right back to you.¡± ¡°But I¡ª¡± Foot began. ¡°Hey, Foot,¡± Aya said kindly and waited until she had the boy¡¯s attention. ¡°If you give us a minute, I¡¯ll play with you as much as you want later.¡± ¡°¡­ You promise?¡± ¡°I do.¡± ¡°Are you going to give me a Contract?¡± Aya raised her eyebrows in surprise and then twisted them into pretend hurt. ¡°I thought we were friends,¡± Aya said. ¡°Don¡¯t you trust me to keep my word?¡± Foot opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it and looked down, kicking at the ground. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he said, and Aya almost felt bad for pulling the friend card. She was going to comfort him, but a moment later, he bounced back and said, ¡°But just one minute!¡± Aya smiled and was about to turn back to Nemis when she remembered who she was dealing with. ¡°A real life minute,¡± Aya added, knowing the boy was planning on taking her very literally. Foot pouted, ¡°Fine,¡± he said. ¡°Interesting friends you have,¡± Nemis said. On the surface, his tone was polite, but Aya knew he was using it to mock her. ¡°I do, don¡¯t I?¡± Aya said with a bright smile. Nemis smiled back, just as brightly. ¡°You sure you¡¯re not up for an upgrade?¡± ¡°Of friends?¡± Aya said, acting interested. ¡°And what kind of upgrade would that be?¡± ¡°I dunno, a couple odd hundred convicts at your disposal and complete control of the regional Guild-branch.¡± ¡°You mean¡ª¡± Cazcade, who¡¯d been uncharacteristically quiet until then, spoke up. ¡°Wait a minute!¡± she screamed, real-life volume carrying over into Era. ¡°You told me the Eastern Plains were going to be mine!¡± ¡°Were,¡± Nemis said. ¡°But then I found something better.¡± Nemis nodded at Aya. Aya didn¡¯t like the spotlight he was casting on her one bit. ¡°Better? How is she better!?¡± ¡°Well,¡± Nemis said. ¡°She¡¯s only at level 15, you¡¯re at level 21, and she¡¯s already ten times more impressive than you.¡± ¡°Level FIFTEEN!?¡± Cazcade¡¯s orange skin started changing color to become as red as the streaks in her hair. Her clenched fists were rigid beside her. ¡°I¡¯m six levels higher than her!¡± Cazcade said. ¡°And she started the exact same minute I did.¡± ¡°That¡¯s nice and all,¡± Nemis said, the corner of his lip pulling into a smirk, ¡°but levels are just a number. She¡¯ll catch up eventually, and when she¡¯s at level 21, she¡¯ll be a hundred times more impressive than you are now.¡± ¡°That¡¯s such bullshit!¡± Cazcade screeched. ¡°I bet her rank is shit too!¡± ¡°I sorta already have my own guild¡ª¡± Aya said, trying to diffuse the situation. It was information that could be had at any guild registry and Cazcade was taking the man¡¯s obvious provocation too seriously. ¡°I have a proposal¡­¡± the non-tattooed man said, ignoring both Cazcade and Aya¡¯s words. Aya was wary of proposals. ¡°Why don¡¯t you two fight it out?¡± he asked ¡°Fight it out?¡± Cazcade said. ¡°Well, the way I see it,¡± Nemis said. ¡°There¡¯s at least one fight left until this ordeal is over with. If Aya wins, she¡¯ll be in charge of everything anyway, but I¡¯ll add a cherry on top and pass on the official baton of the Serving Time Guildmaster for the region. Imagine just how many convicts you¡¯ll have under your control.¡± Aya could feel the trap. It wasn¡¯t even set for her, but she couldn¡¯t help envisioning hundreds of people under her command. It would definitely help boost her Goldilocks rank and fell in the precise direction Suerte had wanted from the beginning. Shaking her head slightly to dispel the image, Aya glanced at Cazcade to find the girl completely furious. Her whole skin had turned red and she glared at Aya. The trap had worked. ¡°It¡¯s so on,¡± Cazcade said. ¡°Wait,¡± Aya said. ¡°Your minute is over!¡± Foot yelled. ¡°Can we fight now!?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Nemis said, with a sadistic grin. ¡°We can.¡± Before Aya could stop the man he was walking off with a hand slung over Foot¡¯s shoulder. Frank, ever the vigilant bodyguard, walked two feet behind the pair, keeping a close eye on the boy. Assured that the kid at least had one person watching his back, Aya turned to Cazcade. ¡°Are you ready?¡± Cazcade asked, a glare still burning in her eyes. ¡°No, wait. Yaz¡­¡± ¡°Only my friends call me Yaz, you little bitch. My name is Jasmine,¡± Cazcade said. ¡°And in here, you can call me Cazcade.¡± The Contract appeared in Aya¡¯s overlay. Nemis and Foot had both signed a duel slot and Cazcade had already signed her name to the final one below it. Cazcade looked at Aya expectantly, waiting for her to sign as well. ¡°Wait a second Y-Cazcade!¡± Aya said, seeing how the girl was spiraling out of control. ¡°Don¡¯t you see what Nemis is trying to do?¡± ¡°Yes, I do. He¡¯s trying to give you everything!¡± ¡°No!¡± Aya shouted, taking a step toward Cazcade, trying to reason with her. ¡°He¡¯s trying to play you!¡± ¡°Oh, Like you played me, Miss Level Fifteen?¡± ¡°Wh-No! It¡¯s not like that¡ª¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t it? Because I heard that you were conned on your first day here, like a total noob.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not,¡± Aya said, struggling to find a way out. ¡°Haven¡¯t you seen all that I¡¯ve done this week? Even your boss is impressed.¡± ¡°Oh, so now he¡¯s not trying to play me anymore? Which is it?¡± ¡°Wh¡ª That¡¯s not what I said!¡± Aya floundered. ¡°Isn¡¯t it? Because that¡¯s what I heard you say. Doesn¡¯t matter anyway,¡± Cazcade said with a bloodthirsty smile on her face, ¡°because I¡¯m going to burn you to ashes.¡± Cazcade threw her hands down and they were both suddenly engulfed in flames. ¡°Mmmmm,¡± Cazcade said, a manic grin of pleasure appearing on her face. ¡°Can you feel that heat?¡± Aya¡¯s eyes widened. Cazcade was a fire mage. If the girl wanted to, she could set fire to everything. The area was so dry that her shop would burn down as well. Aya crouched defensively as she tried to figure out a way to buy some time. She cast a glance sideways to see Foot and Nemis already fighting. Their movements were too fast for Aya to be able to see anything, much less which side had the upper hand. ¡°Oh!¡± Cazcade said, noticing Aya¡¯s defensive stance. ¡°You ready to fight now?¡± Aya looked back at Cazcade, who¡¯d completely misinterpreted the situation. ¡°No, I¡ª¡± ¡°Good, ¡®cause I¡¯ve decided I don¡¯t really care about your Contract. Nemis never said our fight had to be recorded in it.¡± Cazcade lifted her arms and threw her hands forwards, pelting Fireball after Fireball in Aya¡¯s direction. Aya instinctively lifted two arms to shield herself, but other than the heat she felt from them dissolving a foot in front of her, they didn¡¯t affect her in the least. ¡°What the!??! Arghhh!¡± Cazcade screeched. ¡°Stop cheating, you little shit!¡± ¡°Me?¡± Aya asked innocently. ¡°It¡¯s in the Era combat rules. A player can¡¯t attack another player if his or her level is five or more levels lower than his or her own.¡± Cazcade¡¯s hands went back down and her skin turned yet another shade darker, a lot closer to red now than its original orange. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Just because you know some shitty rule, doesn¡¯t mean shit.¡± Aya watched the girl and sighed. Pure hatred was burning in Cazcade¡¯s eyes and it was obvious the girl had reached a point of no return. Reasoning with her would be as productive as talking to a rock. ¡°Well,¡± Aya said, ¡°it does mean I know the rule.¡± Cazcade frowned and her hands went up in flames again. Aya wanted to feel remorse for inflaming the girl even more, but she couldn¡¯t. The girl had gotten on her nerves so many times and her current total inability to see reason just took the cake. ¡°Fight me and I won¡¯t tell Serena what you¡¯ve been up to this last week¡­ Miss Fifteen,¡± she mocked, as if readying to tell on Aya to her mom. ¡°I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll be very interested to know how useless her newest acquisition is.¡± ¡°Given the level difference, this is a bit unfair,¡± Aya said, ¡°don¡¯t you think?¡± Aya knew she was going to have to give in eventually. The moment Cazcade realized she could just burn Aya¡¯s shop to the ground, Aya would be forced into combat anyway, even if it meant death. At least if she went with the original Contract agreement, she¡¯d be protected by the 10% clause. However, Cazcade didn¡¯t know exactly how much of a corner she¡¯d backed Aya into, so she¡¯d postpone the fight as long as she could. ¡°Given the fact you¡¯ve had the same amount of time to prepare, and the fact you claim to be such an experienced player who hasn¡¯t played me, I don¡¯t think so, no,¡± Cazcade retorted. Aya pursed her lips in thought and rested her hands on her hips. Pretending to take the moment to deliberate, Aya opened the Slither-venom vial she¡¯d stashed in her waistband and poured its contents into one of the rags from Furia¡¯s dress. To this day, it had the highest thread-count of any of her rags and would hold the liquid better. It was also more durable, another plus. Part of her wondered if this preparation counted as cheating, but she once more invoked her internal Donovan and appeased her conscience. ¡°So,¡± Aya said, ¡°All you want to do is fight me and win, right? So even if I lose, you won¡¯t tell Serena?¡± she asked, pretending Cazcade had been right about Aya¡¯s biggest worry. ¡°I won¡¯t have to,¡± Cazcade said. ¡°People will find out on their own soon enough.¡± Aya nodded, just as aware of tomorrow¡¯s significance as Cazcade. ¡°All right,¡± Aya said with finality before she took her blades out and signed her name to the Contract. It turned out to be a good thing Aya took out her daggers before signing the Contract because Cazcade was already hurling Fireballs while Aya put it away. Ducking and rolling out of the way, she evaded the first set of Fireballs. A moment too late, she thought of the foliage that would catch on fire. Aya looked frantically at where the fire had hit, but, other than a small scorch mark, there was no sign of the fire spreading. The entire duel area was so trampled by dozens of feet that the brittle leaves had all fallen to the ground and mixed with the dry sand. There wasn¡¯t enough fuel to carry a fire anywhere. Caught up in her flammability analysis of the ground, Aya almost got hit by the next volley of Fireballs, but made it out of the way just on time, feeling the painful heat of the fire as it grazed her left cheek. Taking a deep breath, Aya calmed herself and tried to focus on a strategy. Cazcade was the first mage she¡¯d been up against and Aya feared her usual retreat-and-attack strategy was not going to work. Cazcade¡¯s attack range was much larger and if Aya wanted to get any of her own hits in, she¡¯d have to get much, much closer. Five more Fireballs came her way and she barely avoided them, ducking and weaving as they came her way. Getting closer would mean less time to evade the Fireballs. Cazcade was at a much higher level and much faster than Aya. The only reason Aya wasn¡¯t dead already was because of the distance the Fireballs had to travel to reach her, and yet here she was, thinking of ways of cutting that distance. Aya considered throwing her blades, but immediately decided against it. She¡¯d been working on her aim, but throwing blades severely decreased their damage output, which, in Aya¡¯s case, was already very low. Evading another set of Fireballs by flattening herself on the ground, Aya wondered if she could continue the fight until Cazcade ran out of mana. However, as she watched the girl¡¯s manic eyes, Aya had the gnawing fear that Cazcade was a bottomless pit of fire. Aya dashed around a bit, pretending she was working on some kind of evasive maneuver while she put the blades behind her back and wiped them with Slither-venom. Without Aya¡¯s Poison Resistance, even touching the cloth could have been deadly and Aya hoped that the blades would have the same deadly effect on Cazcade. All Aya had to do now was use the Bleed skill on Cazcade with the poisoned blades. Aya tried getting closer multiple times in the next few minutes, but each time she thought she¡¯d managed to break the perimeter, Cazcade would unleash a Flame Blast. It had a much greater area of effect than Fireball and hurt Aya every time she got too close to it, but fortunately, its damage was low and only took 8-11% of Aya¡¯s health at a time. By running around and dodging Fireballs for minute or two, she was always able to heal back up. Aya was sweating and panting when she heard a loud commotion from the site where Foot¡¯s and Nemis¡¯ fight had been taking place. Aya¡¯s curiosity almost had her looking over, distracting her from the fight, but if Aya knew one thing, it was that Cazcade would look over, leaving an opening for Aya to exploit. After a week of being around Yaz in real life, she knew the girl¡¯s curiosity wouldn¡¯t let her ignore the commotion for long. Keeping a close eye on Cazcade, Aya circled the girl until Cazcade unleashed a particularly explosive display of fireworks. It was obvious that she was buying herself a moment to look over. Aya readied herself to attack. The instant Aya saw Cazcade¡¯s eyes glance over in Foot¡¯s direction, Aya used Stealth, hunkered down, grabbed a handful of sandy dirt and ran all-out toward the girl¡¯s right side, avoiding a head-on collision saving herself the need to change directions.. By the time Cazcade looked back in Aya¡¯s direction, Aya was only five feet away and by the time Cazcade spotted Aya, it was already too late. Aya ran by and slit her throat with a poisoned blade. It was a Critical Hit and the Skill itself did a lot more damage than it had on Furia, taking 15% of Cazcade¡¯s health in one strike. Aya fell to the ground, avoiding Fireballs that sailed past her by a hair¡¯s breadth. Aya took the opportunity to drop her handful of dirt. She hadn¡¯t used the trick, and there was no need to show her hand just yet. ¡°YOU BITCH!¡± Cazcade shouted and unleashed unholy hellfire upon Aya. Luckily, it had taken the girl a second to react to Aya¡¯s attack so she was out of the immediate strike zone when the Fireballs, Fire Blasts and what looked like an intense fire-beam arrived. Aya hid a smirk as she backed off as far asshe could within the agreed-upon duel perimeter. She weaved and bobbed, but generally tried to conserve her breath as Cazcade continued her all-out attack. It was the exact reaction Aya had been going for, and she prepped her blades to go in for another attack. Aya had to choose the correct moment to strike, right when Cazcade¡¯s attacks peaked, before the girl regained her composure. Once more, Aya leaned down to grab a handful of dry dirt when the expected Fire Blast arrived. Using the moment of blinding cover it provided, she jumped to the side, entered Stealth mode and once more headed on a trajectory straight toward Cazcade¡¯s right side. Cazcade noticed Aya¡¯s move, but it was already too late. Cazcade only had time to readjust her hands for one Fireball, which she missed in her hurry. It allowed Aya to get two more poisoned Bleed strikes in, one on Cazcade¡¯s right arm and one above her right hip. By the time the girl turned around to direct fire at Aya¡¯s retreating back, Aya had already regained her footing, pivoted and jumped back a few more feet for added distance. A notification suddenly appeared, distracting Aya for a moment. 249 : 249 Foot had lost, but instead of being freaked out by the pressure the new scoreboard put on the outcome of her match, Aya used the notification to stage her next attack. Running a couple steps to the right, Aya pretended she was about to start another set of evasive maneuvers, but the moment the expected shouts went out, she pivoted toward the distracted Cazcade. Aya activated Stealth, coated her blades with even more poison and attacked her on the right. By the time she¡¯d finished her third poison attack, the girl was absolutely livid and at 42% of health. The Bleed, poisoning and Critical Hits were all stacking like Aya had never experienced before. The poison was also having a much bigger effect than Aya had allowed herself to hope for. ¡°ARRRRRGHHHHHHH!¡± Cazcade shouted out. Aya turned and was distracted by one of the wounds she¡¯d delivered the first time. There was a bubbling, greenish vapor sizzling off the wound. An idea hit her at the same time as a Fireball. Luckily, it hit her in the shoulder, which blew her back, out of the next Fireball¡¯s path. Her health immediately fell to 46%. It made her painstaking effort to get Cazcade¡¯s down to the same level seem useless. Grunting in pain, Aya rolled to the side, trying to ignore the unmistakable pain of a burn wound. She smelled burned skin and hair, it made her feel sick to the stomach. Gritting her teeth, she got back on her feet and readied herself for Cazcade¡¯s next attack. Aya got her blades ready on her belt for quick retrieval once more and circled Cazcade until she neared her trusted and luckily forgotten friend, Henry. Aya noticed that her own health was regenerating much faster than Cazcade¡¯s, but it was probably only because she also had a lot less HP. Aya didn¡¯t have the luxury of waiting around to heal. She needed to kill Cazcade before the mage healed as well. Aya got close to Henry, making sure Cazcade¡¯s eyes were on her when she stepped on Henry¡¯s foot. The bird squawked loudly and Cazcade jerked in surprise. Aya used the moment to bend down, grab the bird, grab some dirt, dash in Cazcade¡¯s direction, activate Stealth, throw the bird at Cazcade, grab a dagger with her free hand, duck past two Fireballs, get close enough to throw dirt in Cazcade¡¯s face, grab the other dagger, use the girl¡¯s distraction to get around Cazcade, stick both blades hilt-deep into her neck, let go, reach for the poisoned rag and gag the girl from behind, jumping on her back and pulling her as close to herself as she could. That last action was her only mistake. The moment Cazcade¡¯s skin touched Aya¡¯s, she felt an unbearable, blazing pain wherever they touched. Fire, Cazcade could make her skin as hot as fire. She was a squishy avatar, just like Aya, but she had this one barrier of defense Aya had been unaware of. 48% : 40% Aya watched her HP versus Cazcade¡¯s. If Aya wanted to get away, now would be her only chance. Instead, she decided to gamble on it, stuck her forearms further out before bringing them back in to stick the daggers¡¯ hilts in deeper. Then it was a waiting game, enduring the pain until Cazcade breathed in the poisonous fumes bubbling up from the rag. Cazcade tried to shake Aya off and when she couldn¡¯t, she tried to squirm out of Aya¡¯s grip, but Aya held on like a tick, going as far as wrapping her legs around Cazcade¡¯s torso. The seconds ticked by in agonizing slowness. Aya¡¯s skin was burning; she could feel it charring and flaking away against Cazcade¡¯s. At some point the girl began laughing maniacally, but Aya ignored it and focused solely on their relative HPs. 39% : 25% For now, Aya was ahead. She had more stacked attacks that were still dealing Cazcade damage, but with each passing second, the burn on Aya¡¯s skin also stacked. 30% : 18% The damage was starting to stack quickly and Aya wasn¡¯t sure if she¡¯d be able to hold out long enough. Her ears started registering the cheers around them. Were people expecting her to win or Cazcade? Did it matter? She had no idea if she could survive and no idea if the pain would defeat her, those things mattered. 20% : 14% Four more percent, only four. Aya¡¯s skin burned and she felt her clothes start burning. Cazcade had given up on fighting Aya¡¯s chokehold and had instead resorted to touching all that Aya wore. 15% : 12% It looked like it was going to be simultaneous annihilation. Aya growled; she had not just gone through all the pain to lose in the end. She refused! Gritting her teeth, she waited until Cazcade¡¯s health dropped to 11% and waited another painful beat before she stuffed the sizzling rag into the girl¡¯s mouth, jerked Cazcade¡¯s head around and bit deeply into her neck before jumping off her back and retreating as fast as she could. With the coppery taste of blood in her mouth, Aya scrambled away. Weaponless and defenseless, she¡¯d played every single card in her hand and the deck was empty. She turned just in time to see a Fireball dissolve right before her face. 11% : 6% Duel goes to Aya. 250 : 249 Aya coughed and tried spitting the bloody taste out of her mouth. She couldn¡¯t have cut it any closer if she¡¯d tried to. ¡°You piece of shit!¡± Cazcade screeched as she registered her loss. The girl seemed to be completely oblivious to pain as blood squirted out of her neck where Aya had bitten her. Cazcade¡¯s health continued to plummet and Aya decided not to waste her breath warning the girl. After all, Cazcade was still shouting death threats and insults at her. And just like that, Cazcade pixelated out of existence moments later. Not wanting to commit the same mistake, Aya looked around, trying to find a friendly face, but her unfriendly blacksmith was already right beside her. ¡°Here, take this,¡± Xavier said, handing her a light potion. ¡°Should be enough to get you back on your feet. You did good.¡± He patted her awkwardly on the back. Aya nodded and gratefully gulped it down, bringing her HP back into the 20% range. It still dipped occasionally as she recovered from her severely stacked burn wounds, but she was already regaining health faster than she lost it. Basically, it wouldn¡¯t kill her and that¡¯s all that mattered. Aya sighed, and slumped to the ground. As she tried to process things, she watched Xavier walk back to the shop. Like a good shepherd, he managed to herd most of the accumulated crowd into the shop. Aya wasn¡¯t too surprised to see even some Serving Time members amongst them. She also wasn¡¯t surprised to see that Nemis had mysteriously disappeared, along with many other Serving Time members. She was, however, surprised to see a trio composed of Donovan, Frank and Foot approaching her. Sluggishly getting to her feet, she dusted herself off as they came into speaking range. ¡°I woudda won if Frank hadn¡¯t stopped me!¡± Foot glared at Frank. ¡°No, you would not have,¡± Donovan said in his usual simplicity, arriving as if he¡¯d been part of the conversation from the get-go. Foot frowned and crossed his arms, trying to look stern and grown-up. Frank was definitely rubbing off on the boy. ¡°You¡¯re really not cool, man!¡± ¡°I do not see why I should be,¡± Donovan said. ¡°¡®Cool¡¯ is a subjective term, but I doubt many would consider 37 degrees Celsius to be ¡®cool¡¯.¡± ¡°¡­What?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± Donovan said tonelessly, completely ignoring Foot¡¯s follow-up question. ¡°This business is done and you owe me a quest. You¡¯re still weak, but it should be enough to get by.¡± Apparently, the morning she¡¯d just had didn¡¯t even merit a ten-minute rest. ¡°A quest!?¡± Foot shouted beside Aya. ¡°I love quests! Can I come with!? Frank! It¡¯s a quest! Do you want to go?¡± The large man rolled his boulder-like shoulders in a shrug. Aya didn¡¯t even bother arguing or commenting; this was Donovan they were talking about. They gathered their things and prepared to leave. Meeting up in front of the shop, they were about to set out when MageSlayer and Emry suddenly showed up. Aya sighed, not wanting to deal with the annoying mage after the day she¡¯d already had. ¡°Can this wait, MageSlayer?¡± Aya asked, another sigh leaking into her voice. ¡°Are you heading East, up the hills?¡± Mageslayer asked. ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Aya said, wondering who he¡¯d heard it from. No one in their small group was on friendly terms with the guy. ¡°Then no, it can¡¯t wait,¡± MageSlayer said. ¡°It¡¯s our right,¡± he gestured between himself and Emry, ¡°to go check out the guild¡¯s new property with you.¡± ¡°The guild¡¯s?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± MageSlayer said. ¡°Have you not familiarized yourself with our new assets? We must go and perform a valuation.¡± Aya rolled her eyes, ¡°Of course we do.¡± ¡°YES!¡± Foot said, ¡°The more the better! Can we go now! Let¡¯s go, let¡¯s go, let¡¯s gooooo!¡± MageSlayer smirked as he went by, patting Foot on the head. Emry bowed her head and tried for an apologetic smile. Chris watched the rest of the party take off and pinched the bridge of her nose. She really didn¡¯t want to be in the company of the annoying mage-accountant all day, but it was better than being dead, though not by much. From what Donovan had said, most of the day would probably be spent traveling. They¡¯d have to go cover quite a bit of ground to reach the destination for his quest. Aya sighed, wondering if her time would be better spent categorizing her Layhens and working on the system she¡¯d be using for their Contracts in the future. Her eyes followed the retreating group until Foot turned around, spotted her and waved, shouting for her to join them. Aya couldn¡¯tstop the smile from forming on her lips. ¡°Ah, screw it,¡± she said out loud. ¡°At this point, if I didn¡¯t make rank, they can all go fuck themselves.¡± The rest of her last day was spent traveling, killing mobs and generally interacting with a mismatched group of individuals. Even with MageSlayer¡¯s insulting presence, it was probably the most carefree fun she¡¯d had in years. Afraid of which one would win, Aya didn¡¯t want to outright compare any of her memories with Rin with the memories she was making in game. Aya wondered if she¡¯d ever have the chance to play with them the same way again. If her resulting rank wasn¡¯t high enough, she¡¯d be limited to two real hours a day. She knew now that it was nowhere near enough to keep up with any serious Era player. By the end of her final day, she¡¯d leveled up to 16. She¡¯d gained most of the EXP through her two kills and combat and spent the rest of the day working on her stats. However, it was still nowhere near Sid¡¯s advised minimum. Aya shrugged in resignation; it was out of her hands now. If what the Warden really cared about was earning potential, she¡¯d get a spot. Her only worry was his ability to see past her still mountain-high debt. Aya sighed and logged out, never going back to check her pending friend requests. Fortunately or unfortunately, there were none. P.S.: No Henrys wereirreparably damagedin the production of this chapter. Chapter 54 Metropolis - Goldilocks: Capsule Bay 237 Thursday, May 14th, 2089 | 06:00pm The moment Chris logged out, she opened her b-link interface. She felt a little hypocritical, being so anxious to know her rank after she¡¯d told the system to go fuck itself. However, the results she saw in the next couple of minutes would determine not only the rest of her life, but that of her sister as well. Chris sighed and was about to check the results when the guard started herding the women together for their trek to the cafeteria. Using the commotion as an excuse to postpone the inevitable for a few moments longer, Chris got in line and followed it out of the Capsule Bay and all the way past the first security gate before she checked her interface again. Her heart was beating wildly and she had cold sweat streaming out of about every pore when she opened the rank window. [5453/5791: Pending Review] Chris¡¯ eyes widened. Not only had she not made rank, she¡¯d barely made any progress from the day before. Bringing out her rank history just to be sure, she groaned when the number of ranks she¡¯d progressed flashed before her eyes, seventeen. She wanted to punch a wall, kick a bucket, preferably one full of water. Maybe if she could cause the same kind of chaos that was going on inside her externally, she¡¯d be able to calm down a little. Maybe if she could¡­ Chris shook her head to dispel the unnecessary thoughts. Hot tears of frustrated anger were already welling up in the corners of her eyes. Fists clenched, she forced herself to get a hold on her emotions. Neither anger or sadness were going to help her out of her predicament. But what would? Chris considered the once-more mocking presence of the ¡®Pending Review¡¯ label. It felt like the system wanted to give her false hope just so it could tear it away later on. Chris shook her head and focused. She had a meeting with Suerte the next day, but first, she¡¯d have her conversation with the Warden. If her review was still pending by then, she¡¯d at least be able to make a case. The more she thought about it, the more she wondered about her rank. If profitability was all he cared about, her rank should really be higher. After spending a whole day with Foot, the accountants and Donovan, she was sure that she was quite a profitable player. Sure, there were still huge outstanding debts, but she would easily clear those in the next couple of weeks. It was a small price to pay for all that she was giving back, wasn¡¯t it? Were long term investments not considered worthwhile at all? Chris¡¯ head was still reeling with the possible implications of her new rank ¨C or maybe ¡®final rank¡¯ was a better term for it ¨C when her group finally reached the cafeteria. Taking a few steps in the direction of her usual gruel dispenser, Chris had barely gotten around to re-acclimatizing to the permeating seaweed smell that always covered the cafeteria when a hand suddenly clamped onto her forearm, gripping it tightly. ¡°Keep walking, you little bitch!¡± Yaz growled, as she dragged Chris toward the dispenser, away from the entrance. ¡°Really, with the height?¡± Chris asked, moving out of the way of traffic and into view of the guards. ¡°Again? Is that the only thing you can insult? My height?¡± ¡°You¡¯re lucky it¡¯s the only thing I¡¯m doin¡¯, now move!¡± Yaz was taller and stronger, but Chris was more determined and held her ground when the girl tried pulling Chris her way. Chris looked back at the cafeteria¡¯s entrance, trying to get one of the guards¡¯ attention. ¡°I think I¡¯d rather not,¡± Chris said simply, as if being cornered by convicts was an everyday occurrence. Yaz¡¯s fingers suddenly tightened around Chris¡¯ forearm until the girl¡¯s nails were digging sharply into her arm. Looking down, Chris watched the entire region of her arm turn white as the blood supply was cut off. ¡°I think you rather would, you lying piece of shit!¡± ¡°Lying? I never lied. You just assumed.¡± ¡°You made me assume.¡± Chris didn¡¯t reply, still trying to get the attention of one of the guards. ¡°Oh, you think they¡¯ll help you?¡± Yaz asked. Chris looked back at the girl, confused by her mocking tone. ¡°They won¡¯t,¡± Yaz said. Chris narrowed her eyes, and then she found herself looking around for Doris. The girl wouldn¡¯t be able to pull off something like this without the woman¡¯s help. Chris darted a glance back to the guards, just to be sure she wouldn¡¯t be able to get their attention. Her eyes made direct eye contact with one of the stationed guards, but then the woman looked away a second later as if she hadn¡¯t seen anything. That¡¯s when Chris knew for sure that the guards had been bought somehow. ¡°And do you want to know why they won¡¯t?¡± Chris leveled a stare at Yaz, trying not to cringe at the girl¡¯s sharp fingernails digging into her skin. Chris shrugged, feigning interest, but mostly just wanting the girl¡¯s grip to loosen up a little. She refused to look around for help from her new faction-mates; it would look weak and Chris didn¡¯t know what Yaz had told who. It might already be common knowledge that she¡¯d been at level 15 on her last day. Chris still remembered Sid telling her about Nicola¡¯s 14 levels on her first day. If the other inmates really knew about it already, she¡¯d never be able to live it down. Common sense told her that Yaz wouldn¡¯t have had time to spread it around. Although the girl had been out of the game since before lunch, most people only got out a couple minutes ago. Surely, that meant she was still protected for a while longer. ¡°They won¡¯t because I told them not to,¡± Yaz said with a feral smile on her face, eyes widened in manic glee. ¡°It¡¯s one of the perks of being the only daughter of Co-Soft.¡± Chris wrinkled her brows in confusion, ¡°The company?¡± ¡°No, the madhouse!¡± Yaz¡¯s eyes twinkled with loony excitement as she chuckled at herself. Chris didn¡¯t know if the girl was laughing at a weird private joke or if she¡¯d really lost it. The interaction was weirdly reminiscent of Chris¡¯ first encounter with Doris. ¡°Now, now, Sugarcake and Sweety-pie,¡± Doris said, suddenly appearing by Chris¡¯ side as if conjured by her thoughts, ¡°what do you say we take this little chit-chat somewhere a little more¡­ appropriate?¡± Doris¡¯ expression left no doubt that her words were an order. Chris didn¡¯t know if she should be relieved or not. She wondered if her situation had actually gotten worse as the three of them made their way past the crowd she hadn¡¯t even noticed gathering around them. Yaz kept her grip on Chris¡¯ arm, but seemed content to follow Doris as she walked toward one of the dispensers. ¡°This isn¡¯t over,¡± Yaz whispered vehemently into Chris¡¯ ear. ¡°I¡¯m not going to let you pull one over on me like that again, you cheating bitch! Just wait, I¡¯m going to get you.¡± Chris pursed her lips silently. Anything she said would just make the situation worse for her. ¡°You think that little stunt you pulled set me back?¡± Yaz asked, challenge in her voice. ¡°Well, it¡¯s a lucky thing you didn¡¯t fuck up my rank too bad, but I won¡¯t forget this¡­ Aya.¡± Yaz sneered. Chris fought to keep her expression still. Having her identity revealed if she didn¡¯t manage to become a player after all was going to be one of the worst things that could have happened. If she managed to pull through somehow, it would be okay because of her faction, but without it, she would be stranded, exposed and on her own. Chris knew Yaz¡¯s identity as well, but the girl seemed to already have her future guaranteed. Chris felt her heartbeat increase, and forced it down a moment later. Now was not the time to break down and have a panic attack. Chris took one deep breath to clear her mind and looked ahead, keeping her expression completely unfazed. ¡°Cat got your tongue?¡± Yaz whispered, leaning into Chris even more. Chris had to fight the urge to push Yaz away from her, and risk showing how much the girl was getting to her. ¡°Oh, wait, could it be?¡± Yaz said in mock-shock. ¡°Could it be that our little Barbie hasn¡¯t made rank?¡± Chris stared straight ahead, refusing to let the girl¡¯s words affect her. ¡°No,¡± Yaz said, nodding to herself. Each bob of her head an excuse to dig her fingernails deeper into Chris¡¯ skin. ¡°That wouldn¡¯t be possible, would it? I mean you defeated a big bad guild all by yourself¡­¡±The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. They reached the line for the dispenser. ¡°Oh, wait,¡± Yaz said. ¡°It wasn¡¯t by yourself, was it? I guess they don¡¯t take your friends¡¯ achievements into consideration when handing out ranks. That¡¯s just too bad, isn¡¯t it?¡± The line moved slowly. Doris was ahead of them, but she showed no signs of interest in their conversation. In fact, her trusty tall, dark-skinned and white-haired friend walked up and they began having a conversation. Both women chuckled at something the old, black woman said they paid absolutely no attention to Chris and her situation. ¡°You think you can play dirty tricks on me?¡± Yaz continued to rant. ¡°I¡¯ll show you dirty tricks.¡± The line continued to move, far too slowly, but there was nothing she could do about it. There were dozens of women milling about, but Chris didn¡¯t see a single friendly face. It wasn¡¯t surprising considering there were maybe three amongst the five thousand convicts of Goldilocks who actually liked her right now. Chris suddenly felt very small, smaller than her height could account for. Yaz continued to rant in her ear. The chatter Chris had been hearing from the rest of the room was slowly replaced by the girl¡¯s incessant voice until it was all she heard. They were in a private little bubble, a hell of Yaz¡¯s promised revenge. If Chris had known a week ago that things would turn out like this, she would never have talked to anyone. Perhaps it would have been best to sit alone, eat alone, shower alone, and just generally be alone. Would that have been a better alternative than her current reality? Chris looked ahead at Doris, who was picking up her tray. Had it ever even been a possibility? Doris finally turned her attention to Chris when they reached the gruel dispenser, waiting for Chris to grab her tray. By now, Yaz had escalated her ranting to a completely new level until spittle came out of her mouth with every syllable. Chris could barely look at the girl, who suddenly resembled the character from The Poltergeist a lot more than she did the cheerful chatterbox Chris had met a week ago. ¡°You¡¯re gonna burn, little Barbie,¡± Yaz said, a completely crazy look on her face. Her eyes were bulging and her smile was almost splitting the corners of her mouth. ¡°Do you know what burned plastic smells like? What it feeeeels like?¡± Yaz started laughing maniacally. ¡°Take her away,¡± Doris said simply. Doris and Chris watched the black old lady take her away, cajoling and pulling her in turn. Doris sighed at the sight. ¡°She belongs to a very rich family,¡± Doris said, as if that explained everything. Not knowing how else to reply, Chris nodded. Doris glanced at her and distorted her face into her usual smile, only this time, it had absolutely no effect on Chris. ¡°Yeah,¡± Chris said, needing to say something after standing mutely next to Yaz for such a long time. ¡°I heard, Co-Soft.¡± Doris nodded and directed her usual penetrating gaze toward Chris. After a moment, she seemed to give up on trying to find whatever it was she was looking for and nodded her head for Chris to follow. ¡°So doesn¡¯t that make you wonder?¡± Doris asked as Chris fell into step beside her. ¡°You mean¡­¡± Chris said, trying to consider what Doris meant, ¡°what must someone so privileged have done to still end up in this shit-hole?¡± Doris snorted. ¡°No need to be so aggressive about it,¡± she said, an ugly grin appearing on her mouth. Chris didn¡¯t say anything and Doris suddenly veered toward one of the tables and took a seat. There were already four other women seated at the end Doris chose, but there were three spots left open. Doris took one, leaving two free across from her. Doris motioned for Chris to take a seat and when she did, another woman suddenly appeared to take the final seat next to her. The woman was one of Doris¡¯ old cronies, but Chris hadn¡¯t noticed the woman following them. She was tall, bald and spindly-looking. ¡°But it must be pretty bad, don¡¯t you think?¡± Doris asked once she was seated. Chris nodded. Doris grinned sadistically. ¡°Just imagine, Dearie, in this world we live in, what must someone like that have done¡­¡± Chris swallowed, realizing what Doris was doing. Chris nodded and felt the pit of her stomach sink, dread suddenly gripping at her insides. Even knowing she was being manipulated didn¡¯t stop the words from having an effect. The old criminal¡¯s simple words had done a lot more to infuse dread into Chris¡¯ being than any of Yaz¡¯s crazy ranting. ¡°I heard she killed over a hundred people one night. Burned them all in their sleep,¡± the tall and spindly woman beside Chris said. ¡°If you don¡¯t know your facts,¡± Doris said, glaring at the woman, ¡°don¡¯t pretend you do.¡± The bald woman looked sufficiently cowed and went back to focusing on her meal like everyone else at the table. Chris bit her lip and noticed that even the women at the opposite end of the table, out of hearing range in the crowded and noisy cafeteria were also silent in their meal, strictly avoiding looking at or drawing attention from Doris¡¯ side of the table. Chris wondered how she¡¯d missed all these signs a week ago. Had the women pretended better, or had Chris just been completely obtuse to the powers that be in the prison? She felt like sinking into her gruel, out of sight and out of mind, but Doris wasn¡¯t having it. No, the woman was already going into details about the crimes Yaz committed. How the woman knew any of this Chris didn¡¯t want or need to know. ¡°She killed seventy-eight people and severely injured dozens more,¡± Dori said, her voice echoing in Chris¡¯ ears, images of the crimes flashing before her eyes. ¡°She was in a mental asylum¡­¡± Memories of Yaz¡¯s manic laughter bubbled up inside Chris¡¯ head. ¡°and one night she went into room after room¡­¡± Chris imagined Yaz running through empty hallways in a cut-up straitjacket. Whether or not it coincided with reality, she had no idea. ¡°She poured a gallon of fuel below everyone¡¯s mattress¡­¡± Images of Yaz¡¯s bloodthirsty smile flashed before her. ¡°Imagine how many hours it would take a little girl like that to go to the emergency generator and back. One bucket at a time¡­¡± Chris¡¯ throat dried up and she realized she¡¯d been mechanically working through her gruel during the whole story. ¡°Then she completed the trail of fuel to the door, readying to light it all up with a single spark...¡± Chris swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in her throat. ¡°The cameras show her doing this for hours, room, after room, after room¡­¡± Chris couldn¡¯t believe she¡¯d tried to get this girl on her side. What had she been thinking, trying to team up with a convict she knew nothing about? Unconsciously curling her shoulders up protectively, Chris glanced at Doris and asked, ¡°Wh- What about the caretakers?¡± Surely someone would have kept an eye on her. Chris had no way of knowing what kind of crazy the girl was, but the caretakers should. ¡°They all fall asleep at night,¡± Doris said blandly, ¡°what did you think? She slit the necks of the three guards on night duty and took their keys.¡± All of these words were said with absolutely no inflection. Chris felt the blood drain out of her face. The woman talked about murder as if it were an everyday occurrence, as if she were talking about that day¡¯s grocery list. Chris felt sick to her stomach, but noticed once more that she was still mechanically shoveling gruel down her throat. ¡°Then,¡± Doris finished. ¡°she left, set fire to it all and watched it burn. Hmmm. It must have been like domino fireworks, don¡¯t you think?¡± Chris looked at the criminal in front of her and saw something that chilled her to the bone. Doris understood Yaz, understood the motivations behind her actions; her tone even suggested something akin to jealousy. Chris couldn¡¯t help but feel revolted. Her skin prickled and she regretted everything. She regretted not having fought harder¡­ she even regretted taking her sister¡¯s place. She had done nothing to deserve this! Chris hated herself the moment the thought occurred to her. It had always been there, waiting for a crack in her resolve so it could lodge itself in the dark side of her mind, but she¡¯d kept it at bay¡­ until now. She was disgusted at the whole situation, herself included. ¡°Birds of a feather flock together,¡± Doris said, as if she¡¯d seen through Chris¡¯ entire inner turmoil, ¡°and well, Dearie¡­¡± Doris looked at her carefully. Chris couldn¡¯t help but hold her breath, wondering what Doris¡¯ verdict would be. ¡°Your plumage is just fell off.¡± Chris sat there in stunned silence, wondering what had just happened. ¡°I told you she¡¯s not what she seems,¡± Doris said. ¡°You need to learn to listen¡­ Dummy.¡± Chris nodded, feeling more detached from her body with every passing second. ¡°Go now.¡± Chris sat there for what felt like an eternity, trying to process the turn of events, but eventually she just bobbed her head, stood up and left. She took a handful of steps before Velma appeared out of nowhere and fell into step next to her. Chris looked at her, but the woman looked as willing to have a conversation as a statue. It was just as well; Chris felt the same way. They walked in silence until they reached Chris¡¯ usual table. Tanisha was already sitting there with Freddy by her side. Needle was sitting opposite of them and Velma took a seat next to the woman when they arrived, Chris in turn took a seat next to Tanisha. ¡°Hey girl!¡± Tanisha said, ¡°I was worried about you and had¡­¡± The young woman¡¯s voice trailed off when she noticed Velma¡¯s and Chris¡¯ mood. Chris felt a little bad for not being more sociable, but she needed a moment. They ate in silence for a long time. Some of the women were already leaving the cafeteria by the time Chris looked down and realized she was almost through her meal. ¡°You know¡­¡± Chris said, ¡°This stuff doesn¡¯t actually taste as bad today.¡± She poked at the remnants of her gruel with her spork as if the mystery of the new taste could be found hidden inside. ¡°Really?¡± Tanisha asked, poking at her own gruel. ¡°Tastes the same to me¡­ If you can call it taste¡­¡± ¡°Hmmph,¡± Needle grunted. ¡°Looks like the Warden wants something from ya.¡± ¡°What¡¯s the Warden got to do with anything?¡± Needle looked at Chris with a bored look, as if she¡¯d answered the same question a thousand times in the last week. ¡°Everything.¡± Velma snorted, and Chris looked at her. ¡°Just do yourself a favor, Barbie,¡± Velma said, ¡°don¡¯t make an enemy out of him¡­¡± Chris bit her lip and nodded before she picked up the last sporkful of gruel. ¡°¡­like you have of everyone else in this damn place.¡± Chris looked up at Velma. She could have sworn her supposed protector had just muttered the last bit under her breath, but she wasn¡¯t paying Chris any attention anymore. Chapter 55 Metropolis - Goldilocks: Wing-E / Block 5 | Room 0812/5826 Friday, May 15th, 2089 | 6:44am It was no surprise that Chris hadn¡¯t been able to sleep the night before. She¡¯d tossed and turned in bed until, hours into the night, she heard Tiny sigh above her. At that point, Chris knew she¡¯d better quiet down, lest Tiny decide to have a problem with her as well. Ever since Chris left the cafeteria the day before, she¡¯d been afraid of her own shadow. Instead of seeing women in familiar jumpsuits, she¡¯d seen sadistic criminals and murderers walking down the halls. If both Doris and Yaz had the exact same psychotic glow in their eyes, it wasn¡¯t too far-fetched to think that it was a convict commonality. Chris wondered if she was the only truly sane and innocent person in the whole prison. Then she remembered the saying, ¡°Everyone is innocent in prison¡± and began doubting herself. Could it be she was a criminal and didn¡¯t know it? Was she just as psychotic as the rest of them? She felt herself spiraling out of control and decided to take a reduced dose of melatonin, which is how she found herself awake precisely one minute before her b-link was set to buzz her. Instead of waking up fresh and well-rested, it felt like there was a boulder resting on her chest, constricting her airways. Not even able to take in enough air for a sigh, Chris checked her rank. [5453/5791: Pending Review] No change. Obviously no change. She hadn¡¯t played any since she¡¯d checked it last, the night before. However, she couldn¡¯t help hoping against all hope that she¡¯d make rank somehow. The hope should have died a long time ago, along with all of her hopes and dreams concerning her own personal safety and that of her sister¡¯s, but Chris just couldn¡¯t let it go like that. Sid had mentioned something about being able to petition her case to the Warden. She didn¡¯t think the woman, unable to become a player, had reason to lie to her, but after Yaz¡¯s display of insanity the night before, perhaps rationality was too much to ask for. ¡°BARBIE!¡± Chris whirled around at her roommate¡¯s yell. She¡¯d never heard Tiny raise her voice. The bodybuilder of a woman didn¡¯t need to; her voice carried quite far without added volume. Tiny¡¯s voice was still echoing off the walls when Chris understood the she-hulk must have been trying to get her attention for a while. Chris found herself lost in thought, looking at her own image in the sink¡¯s shatter-proof holographic mirror. Her reflection showed a toothbrush in her mouth, one she didn¡¯t remember picking up, but as her hand automatically continued its circular brushing motion , she must have been doing it for quite a while. After rinsing her mouth, her gums felt numb and she wondered how long she¡¯d been at it. It was already 6:58. Chris wasn¡¯t sure if Tiny would still be willing to escort her to breakfast this morning and paced in front of the door, wringing her hands while her thoughts still stormed around the subject of her rank and meeting with the Warden. She needn¡¯t have worried ¨C about Tiny, at least. Less than a minute later, Tiny was ready and left the door in her usual fashion. Chris fell into step beside her and Tiny didn¡¯t say anything. Chris kept her head down and tried to stay focused on the present. There were people who wanted her dead in the prison and it was in her best interest to keep a calm and level head through it all. She tried her best, but before she knew what had happened, breakfast was over. Blurred by worry and self-doubt, Chris didn¡¯t even know who she¡¯d sat down next to. She couldn¡¯t even tell if her snippets of memories at the cafeteria table even belonged to this morning. Every day was the same: they woke up, got fed, went to game, came back, ate and went to bed. Sure, the duds got more ¡®variety¡¯ when it came to their daily prison routine, but the players had even more if you took Era activities into account. Chris wondered what she¡¯d do when every day started blending into the next like it had that morning. Each meal the same, each day the same. She shuddered at the thought. She needed to make rank, not only so she didn¡¯t get shanked, but to stay sane. If there was one place that could offer her variety in this hellhole, it was Era. Worried about her conversation with the Warden, Chris didn¡¯t even notice when she got herded into a line of convicts. ¡°Hey¡­ Chris¡­¡± Lost in thought, Chris looked around, trying to find the source of the voice. The woman behind her glared at her when she turned around so Chris quickly looked forwards, only to see Tanisha looking back over her shoulder at Chris. Her bruised friend looked at her with pity, as if Chris were the one who needed it in that moment. ¡°You okay, girl?¡± Tanisha whispered. ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Chris answered uncertainly as she finally took note of where they were going. ¡°Where are we¡­¡± Tanisha smiled kindly, and Chris once more felt like she was being pitied. ¡°We¡¯re going to see the Warden.¡± ¡°Oh¡­¡± Chris looked around and saw them go by the last possible entry to the Capsule Bay Area. They continued on to a gate division posted with two guards. Chris hadn¡¯t seen many guarded divisions in Goldilocks, but she was pretty sure it was her first time noticing a double guard since her arrival. The lead-guard swiped them through and the moment they passed the gates, all the convicts¡¯ b-links beeped and changed from blue to yellow. All of the women in their group started murmuring amongst themselves until the guard called them to attention. That¡¯s when Chris first realized that they all must be new convicts just like her and Tanisha. Her spine stiffened, and she wondered if Yaz was amongst them. Chris swallowed and craned her neck to the side, trying to make the girl out in the line ahead of her. Not being able to spot her, she turned her head and was about to scan the line behind her when the guard called her out. ¡°You there!¡± Chris cringed. ¡°5826! Back in line!¡± Chris bowed her head and hoped no one paid her any attention, but soon she heard whispers all around. ¡°¡­ the Barbie one¡­¡± ¡°¡­ the one that?¡± ¡°Yeah, Yaz isn¡¯t¡ª¡± ¡°Yaz!? Who cares about her, I heard that Anna¡ª¡± ¡°I SAID SHUT IT!¡± the guard suddenly yelled when the whispers started becoming more than whispers. ¡°Fuckin¡¯ Fish,¡± Chris heard the guard mutter none-too-quietly. From then on, only the footsteps of two dozen or so women were heard. Chris looked around at the virtual scenery when it switched from a tropical jungle scene to an arid desert. Instantly, she thought of Era and how any other day, she would have been there at this time. She wondered if she ever would again. Biting her lip, Chris didn¡¯t pay much attention as the line made its way past two more guarded stations before they came to the [Administrative Wing]. The group of fresh inmates were all taken into a plain, rectangular room with a single row of chairs on each side. Each of them was directed to take a seat. After that, their guard spoke. ¡°You¡¯re to wait until you¡¯re called. Sit still, don¡¯t speak and don¡¯t move.¡± It was clear some of the convicts weren¡¯t happy with the ¡®explanation¡¯, but before they formed any words, the guard pressed a button and thin wall divisions slid out of the wall to separate them. Chris had been sitting next to Tanisha, but after the division came out, she couldn¡¯t even see the woman anymore. All Chris could see were a few women opposite her, but even that was taken gone a few seconds later, when a cover came down over her head until she was encapsulated in a bubble. Before she could panic or become claustrophobic, the virtual settings kicked in and she was back to seeing her rotation of soothing landscapes. Admiring it, she felt oddly homesick when a prompt popped up on the ¡®wall¡¯ in front of her. [Fill out this optional questionnaire. Your answers will determine your waiting time. Thank you for your participation.] Chris stared at it for a long moment, not sure of what to do. In all of Suerte¡¯s preparatory advice, he¡¯d never mentioned any kind of ¡®questionnaire¡¯. She hadn¡¯t heard any of the women mention it either, but after yesterday, she wasn¡¯t sure they would have either. Biting her lip, she considered the prompt a moment longer until a word finally jumped out at her. ¡®Optional.¡¯ Nothing in prison was optional. Chris accepted the questionnaire and started answering the questions. At first, she was worried about what questions it would contain, but when it asked her her name, age, her family, her background and then her thoughts about the facilities, she relaxed, thinking it was just another of those company questionnaires people used to find out what your buying preferences were. She¡¯d filled a lot of them out in her life. Chris didn¡¯t really see what the point of answering one in prison was, but continued until she found herself answering questions about the prisoners themselves. ¡°What is your roommate''s name?¡± ¡°What is your roommates ID?¡± ¡°What table do you sit at in the cafeteria?¡± ¡°How do you feel about the food?¡± ¡°Are the people at your table usually the same?¡± ¡°If so, then who?¡± Chris stopped answering and sat back. There was no way of knowing how many questions there were. As soon as she answered one, another would appear while all the previous ones remained. Chris could see all of her answers and knew that none of them were giving away any information that couldn¡¯t be found through her b-link. In fact, when Chris thought about it, there would be very few answers it couldn¡¯t answer. If the device really did record everything like the women claimed, then nothing was really secret. Chris¡¯ brow wrinkled in thought. What did they want from this questionnaire? She checked the time and saw that she¡¯d been answering questions for over half an hour . She had no way of knowing if the other women had already had their turn; all she could hear or see was the virtual scenery around her. Currently in a prairie she¡¯d tagged as a favorite, she took a moment to think. Her suspicions were aroused, but she wasn¡¯t yet sure if there really was anything questionable going on. She decided to see what would happen over the next couple of questions just to be sure. ¡°How do you like our Capsule Bays?¡± ¡°Did you have an Era account before coming to Goldilocks?¡± ¡°How has your experience in Era as a convict been?¡± ¡°Have you met any other convicts in Era?¡± ¡°Are any of them from Goldilocks?¡± ¡°If so, then who?¡± Chris was sure. There was something really fishy about the questionnaire. She didn¡¯t like the idea of seemingly innocent questions that were evaluating her in some deeper way. If the Warden wanted to test her, he could do it in person where she could see his face while he did it. Annoyed she¡¯d even answered as much as she had, Chris opened her Era guides and started skimming them to cool down. Over the last week, she¡¯d gone from reading complete beginner guides to now a specialized review of every single race. After her encounter with Yaz in game, she didn¡¯t want to suffer again because of a lack of information. She focused on learning all she could about classes and races. Chris wasn¡¯t stupid; she knew that if Cazcade hadn¡¯t underestimated her and if Aya hadn¡¯t been somehow miraculously been able to use one of the Fire-Kin¡¯s race attributes against Cazcade, Yaz would have beaten her to a pulp. Wishing she had her notebook from the game to take notes, Chris could only open a file and select out the portions she thought were most important. Time passed with no change. At first, she didn¡¯t notice how long it was taking, but when minutes became hours, she started to get antsy. She¡¯d been in there for over four hours! It was no wonder her bladder was already getting very irritated at the situation Chris had put it in. As time went by, it only got worse. Chris wondered if they were going to give her lunch or starve her until she had her meeting with the Warden. All of these thoughts were going through her head until it finally occurred to her that the man in charge of the prison was probably doing it on purpose.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Taking a deep breath, Chris calmed herself and tried to meditate. It had never really worked for her before. She¡¯d always end up getting annoyed at not being able to completely clear her mind, but being annoyed at her own shortcomings seemed like a better idea in that moment than being annoyed at the Warden who she was supposed to ¡®keep an eye on¡¯. Chris sighed. She really needed to use the restroom. The capsule automatically regulated her temperature and hydration levels, and she found yet another reason why she wanted to be back in game instead of cooped up in a little bubble waiting for who-knew-how-long until she got to speak to the Warden. Chris took a deep breath and tried her hand at meditation again. She could feel herself walking straight into a trap, but she couldn¡¯t help thinking about it anyway. Had all the other women answered the questionnaire? Was she going to be the last one to talk to the Warden? Her answer was soon answered when the bubble around her suddenly came down. Blinking in surprise, Chris could only stare at the guard in front of her for a while before the guard spoke. ¡°Lunch-time.¡± Chris checked the time: 12:05pm. The guard handed her a nutri-pack and, not for the first time since Chris had arrived at Goldilocks, she wanted to turn it down. However, it was the first bladder-instigated occurrence. ¡°I¡­ ah¡­¡± Chris started awkwardly, not sure how to ask to go to the bathroom. The guard frowned before she rolled her harsh, dark eyes, shoved the nutri-pack in Chris¡¯ face and said, ¡°Down it and I¡¯ll find ya a john.¡± Chris nodded and quickly did as she was told. The guard was clearly annoyed at the situation, but Chris didn¡¯t mind it one bit, not as long as she got to pee. Relief spread through every inch of her body as she made her way back to the waiting room. She was starting to feel silly for ever having considered the psychological warfare until she saw all the other ¡®waiting-bubbles¡¯. In her preoccupation with finding a bathroom, she hadn¡¯t noticed before, but the women were clearly visible from the outside. Having been in one for hours, Chris knew that they weren¡¯t able to see out. Chris frowned when she realized that she didn¡¯t recognize a single woman in the whole room. Turning her attention to her empty spot, she looked to the left of it, expecting to find Tanisha. Chris¡¯ face drained of blood; it was Yaz. Chris stumbled and made her way to her waiting spot without a word. She knew that the bubbles were sound-proofed, but she didn¡¯t want to alert the girl to her location. In the back of her mind Chris knew it was stupid. She was being heavily guarded and was safer here than anywhere else in the prison, but she still couldn¡¯t help feeling her mouth go dry and her body go cold with fear. Taking a seat, rational thought caught up with her and she realized that Yaz definitely knew who was sitting beside her. After all, the bubbles were see-through from the outside. So much for that. The Warden was definitely trying to psych her out, but to what end? Had he found out about Suerte somehow? In fact, what exactly was there to know about Suerte? Chris knew the lawyer had ¡®contracted¡¯ her, but what exactly was his end goal? Did everyone know more about¡­ everything than her? Was she just a pawn in everyone¡¯s game? Who else was involved? Chris¡¯ thoughts spiraled out of control and for a while, she was unable to stop it. She¡¯d prided herself on being the calm and collected sister ever since their parents died, but now¡­ all Chris wanted to do was curl up in a dark corner somewhere far away from the world and just cry. Her hands were shaking and her breath was erratic. She could feel it and was sure the b-link could too. Chris choked out a laugh. At least the Warden would know he¡¯d accomplished his goal, so maybe now he¡¯d finally get the conversation over with. Controlling the urge to punch her bubble, lest Yaz hear it, Chris merely gazed at the changing landscape until her breathing calmed down. She tried to picture herself in the different environments and maxed out all the sensory settings. The fragrances of wet dirt and wildflowers, salt water and sand, pine trees and mulch helped her relax until she was finally able to open her guides again to kill time. If the Warden wanted to make her wait all day, she might as well put the time to good use. Who knew, maybe the good student routine would convince him to let her play? What seemed like an eternity later, Chris was calm again. She¡¯d read through most of the races and was trying to decide between researching Clans and professions when the bubble finally opened again. Chris checked the time: 5:52pm. The Warden had literally made her wait all day. She took a peek at the women around her, only to find out that there were none. Every single waiting bubble was empty. Was it all because she¡¯d refused to finish the questionnaire? Had she been paranoid? Was the Warden really trying to psych her out? She must be over-thinking it¡­ but maybe that¡¯s what he wanted? Her thoughts were a maelstrom of paranoia and self-doubt. Well, at least Yaz was also gone. ¡°Do you need to use the restroom?¡± Chris was so lost in thought that she barely heard the guard ask her a question. ¡°Yes!¡± Chris practically blurted before she was led into the restroom across the hall. She was quick about her business but took a moment to wash her hands and face before coming out again. She needed to calm down and be rational about things. The Warden had obviously won the first skirmish, but he didn¡¯t need to know that. Taking a deep breath, Chris decided to start from scratch. She cleared her thoughts and walked out the door to meet the guard, who then led her to the Warden¡¯s office. [The Warden] was etched on a plaque next to his room. The guard didn¡¯t knock, but simply stood outside the door with Chris for about two seconds before they heard a voice. ¡°Come in!¡± Chris startled. She hadn¡¯t heard a male voice in the prison other than Suerte¡¯s since she arrived. Chris straightened her back, trying to gain an imaginary inch before the guard swiped the lock and let Chris in. Taking a step forward, Chris came into a room just as spartan as the rest of the prison. The only difference, which became immediately obvious to Chris, was that the Warden had set his virtual settings to override hers. It looked like the Grand Canyon, or at least what she had seen from it in pictures. His room looked out over a cliff that stretched thousands of feet above the ground. It was a breathtaking view, but before Chris could finish her analysis of it, the Warden brought her attention to him. ¡°You must be Chris?¡± he asked in a deep, but otherwise forgettably unremarkable voice. The rest of him was equally unexceptional. He was of average height for a man, but that still towered over Chris as he stood behind his desk. He had a clean-shaven face, short-cropped brown hair, dark brown eyes¡­ if Chris had to describe him to a sketch artist, he¡¯d end up looking like the basic shape of any male face. John Smith. Chris was about to nod to his question when she realized how weird her nickname sounded coming from the man in front of her. He didn¡¯t know her, so why was he calling her that? ¡°Christina Bolen, yes,¡± she said. The Warden quirked his lips and nodded before looking down at a folder in his hands. ¡°Christina Bolen, convicted for the murder of Edward McKlose¡­¡± Chris wasn¡¯t sure if a response was expected so she kept quiet. The Warden unbuttoned his suit and took a seat at his desk. There was a chair in front of her, on her side of his table, but she didn¡¯t dare take a step forward unless he told her to. She¡¯d been led around by his mind tricks all day, so she was going to hold her ground by the door until he told her otherwise. Men had used that trick in job interviews before; she knew it made them feel powerful. After today¡¯s display, Chris wasn¡¯t sure she¡¯d put anything past the man. ¡°Hmmm. I assume you know how my prison operates.¡± His use of ¡®my¡¯ and ¡®prison¡¯ didn¡¯t go unnoticed by her. It both reduced her to a convict status while elevating him to one of ownership. ¡°If you mean your rank system, I think so. Yes.¡± The Warden looked up at her and nodded. ¡°Yet, you have not made rank.¡± ¡°No, but I assume you¡¯ll let me play anyway.¡± Chris forced her voice to remain calm as she spoke the words she¡¯d been mulling over all day. ¡°Oh?¡± the Warden asked, a mocking smile on his face. ¡°And why would I do that?¡± ¡°Because I¡¯m a very profitable player.¡± ¡°How is being in debt profitable, exactly?¡± Chris forced her face to remain passive, but let out a pent up breath anyway. He¡¯d given himself away and now she was sure she¡¯d come to the right conclusion. ¡°Start-up costs,¡± Chris said simply. The Warden nodded again, looking back down at his file. That was when Chris knew for sure that the man was playing her. After a week in Goldilocks, she knew how everything was done through b-links. When the Warden looked down, she got a good look at his wrist and saw that he had one just like them. His locked display also confirmed it to her, this man wanted everything done his way. He wouldn¡¯t have hard copies of anything, not unless they were for show. He was probably looking her up on his b-link, if at all. Chris gritted her teeth, knowing she was absolutely powerless. ¡°Yes, quite impressive¡± he says. ¡°Yet, it seems to me you just get into more debt as soon as you¡¯re about to start paying it off¡­¡± ¡°It takes money to make money,¡± Chris said simply. The Warden considered her for a moment and then said, ¡°No.¡± ¡°No?¡± Chris asked, her heart sinking to her stomach. ¡°No, I won¡¯t let you play.¡± ¡°Why not? I¡¯m a good investment. If you look at my¡­¡± ¡°I know.¡± ¡°But¡­¡± Chris was at a loss. ¡°Then why¡­ I don¡¯t understand.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t need to, that¡¯s what you don¡¯t understand.¡± Chris stood there, dumbfounded. If profits were all this man wanted, she could give him profits. Yet even knowing that, he didn¡¯t seem to¡­ ¡°Oh,¡± Chris finally said. ¡°What is it?¡± Chris swallowed dryly, remembering one of Suerte¡¯s comments. ¡°What is what?¡± ¡°What is it that you really want from me?¡± Chris didn¡¯t even want to consider the possibilities. She didn¡¯t think it would come to this. she had thought about this conversation all day, but this had never been one of the possibilities. She would do it. For Rin and for herself. She would do it. She was not going to rot in this hell-hole for the rest of her life. ¡°Ah, it seems you DO understand,¡± the Warden nodded in a self-satisfied fashion. ¡°Yes,¡± Chris rasped out, not wanting to think about how the man would use her. Her skin suddenly felt dirty, making her want to crawl out of it. ¡°Perfect. You can start tomorrow.¡± Chris nodded, wondering how exactly they were going to start tomorrow. Thoughts started flooding her mind, but she pushed them away, preferring to remain numb to the situation. She didn¡¯t have a choice, there was no point thinking about it. ¡°Here are my terms,¡± the Warden said. Chris¡¯ b-link beeped and she looked down to find it powered off. The yellow light that had been shining since she¡¯d stepped into the [Administrative Wing] was simply off. The b-link hadn¡¯t been off since she¡¯d arrived at Goldilocks. The virtual scenery was gone, revealing simple concrete walls all around. More than ever, she felt trapped and the words the Warden was about to say was only going to make it even more so. She swallowed, tried to keep from being sick and tried to pay attention. ¡°You can play, but you play for me, not Suerte.¡± Chris blinked, wondering if she¡¯d heard right. ¡°Your allegiance is to me and only me. If I want you to tell him something, you will. If he tells you something, you tell Tiny and she tells me.¡± ¡°Tiny?¡± Chris blurted out, Her mind whirled with his words and the connotations. ¡°Yes, Tiny,¡± the Warden said, giving her a searching look. He sighed. ¡°You might have good business instincts, but your political instincts are absolutely atrocious. Do not do anything stupid in your faction. Tiny is an independent, and she can¡¯t keep an eye on you.¡± Chris nodded. ¡°Learn from her quickly, she¡¯ll be released soon¡­ Which isn¡¯t good for you. You¡¯ve put yourself in a hard position. It would have been better for you to side with Doris¡­ our eyes in her faction are light at the moment. Tiny is trying to get an in, but you already had yours¡­¡± He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. The gesture made her feel totally incompetent. ¡°If it happens again¡­. Well. It probably won¡¯t. Doris is too smart. She¡¯ll sense it if you¡¯re trying too hard¡­ But if she does, if she does offer you a way in, you are to get on her good side.¡± Chris opened her mouth, wanting to ask him how exactly she was supposed to do all these things, but he wasn¡¯t done. ¡°As for Era, you¡¯ll also have a task,¡± the Warden said. Chris stood there, not knowing how else to react. This man had taken complete charge of her life, and there was nothing she could do about it. ¡°You have three months to gather players. You already have a guild¡­ so that¡¯s one task down.¡± ¡°O-one?¡± Chris said, her voice sounding disconnected from her body. ¡°Yes, the other is to make sure your guild is strong enough to secure a level 6 gate.¡± Chris nodded. What else could she do? She had no idea what the Warden needed a group of strong players for and no idea how she was going to gather them, but there really didn¡¯t seem to be a choice. If she said no, he wouldn¡¯t let her play. If he didn¡¯t let her play, she would become worthless to Suerte and he would go back on his deal. ¡°I have delayed your meeting with Mr.Suerte,¡± the Warden said nonchalantly, as if he¡¯d sensed the direction her thoughts had taken. ¡°W-Why?¡± ¡°Because I don¡¯t need you acting like¡­ that, in front of him. A weekend should be enough time for you to get a hold on your emotions before you meet him again.¡± Chris nodded, not knowing how else to act. He was right. ¡°That is it, you may leave,¡± he said and the door opened behind her. Chris looked back, numb from all that was happening and walked out the open door behind her. ¡°Oh yes, and one more thing.¡± Chris looked back at him, wondering what else he could possibly want. Her mind already felt frayed from everything she¡¯d been put through that day; she really didn¡¯t need anything else. ¡°The b-link isn¡¯t just for show. Do not betray me.¡± The b-link beeped back to life. Chris looked down at her wrist,nodded lamely and followed the guard assigned to personally escort her all the way to the cafeteria. When she got there, it was already emptying out. She quickly grabbed a meal and ate it before being the last to head out. There were a few duds walking around, mopping up the floor. Suddenly, she remembered something. Her rank. She immediately opened up her b-link to check. [5212/5791] Chris had made it. Barely, but she¡¯d made it. She¡¯d made rank. The only question left was, had the price been too high? She was fully aware of the fact that she¡¯d be dead if Suerte found out, but then again¡­ she¡¯d also be dead if she didn¡¯t do what the Warden wanted. It takes life to make money. In this case, it was her life. Announcement: Edited Chapter 1 and New Fiction (First Academy) Alright. So. I''m kinda tired so I''m not gonna go on my usual rant. Instead I''ll just post links and let you read and tell me what you think.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Both BreakDown and First Academy are being revamped. Muff (my dog) is getting eye surgery tomorrow, so wish me (him) luck. Thanks for reading as always. Seriously though, please tell me what you think. I plan to publish this on Amazon eventually, and I don''t want my first work to be utter garbage. Thanks guys.