Chapter 4: Real Life

“What skill was that?”

“Brother, please teach me!”

“Teach me as well, brother!”

A crowd of many white Doboks wagged their eager tails around us. The newcomers pushed and shoved their way to my instructor, gobbling us up with their unhindered madness. An unfitting behavior contrary to the harmony spiel my instructor gave. Endless noises gawked around him, swarming him for his lessons. I bowed once more, as the jumble of mess blocked my line-of-vision to him. Breaking free of the crowd I made my way to the only door of the dojo.

Much of the sky had darken, but there was still a sliver of the sun’s radiance still peering from the horizon. Paper lanterns in the courtyard lit up as a fellow brother ignited each one with a swift strike of his hand. They served more as ceremonial objects; the light from the many paper lanterns struggled to fight off the dark. Instead, the courtyard’s main light source came from the streetlights on the other side of the dojo’s wall that bled over.

Our promise was set to midnight, so our duel wouldn’t be for another few hours or so. Taking this time to explore the city would be keenly advised. There’s so much I don’t know about this city, let alone this world. Reccu said she was gathering information, and I should as well. Fortunately, in a world of data, there’s one place bound to have useful tidbits lying around: the forums.

Exiting the dojo and turning right I headed towards the central plaza of the city, where the city’s warp portal towered above everyone else. Orbs of light gathered around figures of people as ethereal rings scanned their bodies up-and-down, reconstructing or deconstructing those who touched it. Even at this time of day people continued to teleport in and out of the plaza. The variety of adventurers dramatically increased from the amount of peasantry I saw this morning. More had ditched their rugged T-shirts and blouses to replace them with wizardry robes, protective suits of metal, or stylish and fashionable cloth and leather armor.

Moving through the crowded plaza wasn’t so difficult. The mass of people remained within a close radius of the warp portal, chatting away and idling by. Some held picket-signs that read ‘Looking for a party!’ ‘Selling new equipment!’ and ‘Forming a new party, let’s go hunt!’ Above all else, despite whatever activities occupied their time, they all carried a lively demeanor. Eagerness to explore. Excitement to live this life through.

Nearing the center of the plaza, my pace became slower and I became cautious of my surroundings. Greenhorn warriors walking to-and-fro haphazardly dangled their sharp swords from their waist, unsheathed. A group of children with daggers ran around wildly, laughing and enjoying themselves, like kids in a playground. I did my best to pick out those thoughtless airheads and navigated my way to the warp stone, all the while avoiding them. I placed a hand onto the pillar supporting the warp portal and thought ‘@Log out.’

The world around me froze, like a snapshot taken of the surrounding. Sounds of the world fell to a deafening silence. The people around me halted their movements like a game of Simon Says. The weight of the world and the ubiquitous air failed to appeal to my senses, any longer.

“Disconnection imminent.” A feminine robotic voice rang to the sides of my ears. Colors of the world cascaded into pixels of black and white. Outlines of the stores, the people, and everything within my view had its lines procedurally erased. Before I know it, I stood in a pitch-black darkness, a world of nothingness. I placed my hands onto the helmet resting on my physical face and gave it a slight push. I opened my eyes and watched it retracted into its separate space compartment within the diving-casket.

“Ejection successful.”

The lid of the diving-casket opened, and I reached for the edges of the opening to support myself.

Being immersed in that world made me forgot how dark my room was.

Climbing out of the diving-casket I saw something that shouldn’t be there. A big forehead – a magnitude of proportion so unique that there’s only one person in the world it could belong to. The familiar person stylized in a fancy black suit-and-tie sat in the only chair in the room. Highlighted by the lights of my monitor, he remained facing down in the dark room, unaware of my presence. A soft scent of rich cologne tickled my nose as I stared at him, slightly annoyed. His right hand held a crummy phone – my phone – as his thumbs went to work searching through its content. The other hand picked up one of two white paper cups that wafted a delicious aroma of roasted coffee beans, and sipped on it.

I stood in front of him, half-naked and all, but his eyes remained on my phone. A swift extension of my hand snatched the phone from his hands. I placed it to the side, on my desk. Tickie looked up and smile, clear of any wrongdoings or shame.

“Hey.” Tickie handed me the other paper cup of coffee with the label ‘Starducks.’ “Was it fun?”

“The experience was unreal, to say the least. It’s a way different experience from VR headsets, even with the recent advancement in the past years.” I accepted his offer and placed the drink next to my phone. “Thanks for always getting one of these for me. That doesn’t mean I’ll forgive you for looking through my phone.”

“So… You’re talking to that Anastasia, again?” Tickie held a parental tone, like that of a dad questioning a son. “She’s a peculiar one… Not in a good way.”

“Yup...” I sighed. “Must we talk abouit this, again? Also, stop snooping around my phone.”

“What’s wrong with that? It’s fun.” Tickie procured his smart phone X70 -- a small rectangular phone that’s light-years advanced in technology compare to mine -- in its sleek rectangular form and pristine condition from his pockets and presented it to me. “Here, you can look through mine.”

“I don’t want your phone.” I slightly pushed his hand back. “Your fiancé’s missed calls and your pitiful attempt to salvage whatever situation you dug yourself into gets old quite fast.”

“Speak for yourself. Ten missed calls from mom, twenty unread text-messages from your sister. All from January.” Tickie smiled at me, unpleasantly. “I want to know more.”

“Can you… Can you not?” I squinted my eyes, crossed my arms, and frowned. I picked up my phone, flipped to open, and pressed my fingers onto the number pads, intimidatingly. “Oh, I wonder if Raine would like to know what her future husband is doing right now.”

Tickie’s eyebrows pinched as he shot me a solemn look. Familiarity in his eyes gave way to an imposing expression, the likes seen from a mafia. WIth unabated breaths, he strained his voice and said, “If I go down, you’ll go down with me. Press it. Call her. I’ll wait.” That unrelenting expression trained by brutal wars in corporate almost had me yielding. But we knew each other for way too long.

I searched for ‘Raine’ in my contact list, faced the phone towards him, and crept a smiled. My thumb hovered over the green call button. I stare at him for any telling signs; an emotion I can bite into; a weakness I can latch onto. My finger was millimeters away from applying pressure, yet his wall stood high and indomitable. The tension between us were no longer of a friend-to-friend sort, but of a man-to-man. Lightning sparks from our eyes as we stared at each other, neither one of us daring to yield.

Finally, I made contact. The green call button depressed into its socket. A stock ringing sound, the same sound expected from an old telephone, emitted from my phone. I faced the phone’s button pads towards him with a grin, while the phone rung for two seconds, pause, and another two seconds. Tickie’s index finger shot forth towards the red end-call button, all the while maintaining eye-contact.

Impressive. I laughed and set my phone to the side. I grabbed the coffee he gave me and sipped on it. Mmm. The taste of mild ground coffe mixed with artificial sweeteners never tasted so good before. Delicious.

“Fine, fine. But shouldn’t you at least give them a reply?” Tickie chuckled. “They’re worried about you. Working at a convenience store would make any moms worry about their son’s future. Or, should I say, a dungeon master?”

“Eventually -- wait…” The sudden thought of my contract with C.R.U. furrowed lines on my forehead. I clicked my tongue and massaged the newly-formed wrinkles on my forehead. “Ah, fuck me. You’ve read Anastasia’s message, right?”

“You mean that massive wall of text? Not all of it.” Tickie stuck a finger in his mouth and pretended to puke. “I exited when I realized there was a scrolling bar. How anyone can bother to read those blocks of paragraphs is beyond me.”

“Says the future successor of Q.C.Y. Emporium.” To err on the safe side I navigated to my phone message’s inbox and deleted her text message.

“That’s business. It’s not the same.” Tickie shook his head. “See, you don’t appreciate the beauty in short messages.”

“What would I have to do to keep your mouth shut about this?” I couldn’t wipe away this unnerving feeling like I’ve screwed up, majorly. “Don’t tell anyone about this, Tickie. It’s my first time working with such a big company, and I don’t want to screw it up. It hasn’t been more than a day and this happens. I signed all those papers, too... I’m sure they mentioned something about confidentiality—”

“Wow.” Tickie’s eyes went wide. “Chill. Those papers are just formality. Trust me, I deal with this kind of thing all the time. What’s important is that you don’t leak it on a public forum or to some sort of media. Otherwise, you’ll be fine. I mean, it’s not like you’ll rat yourself out, right?”

“Yeah...”

“Our situation is quite similar. C.R.U. approached me with a similar opportunity, just like yours. The employee called it Rare Lives or something.” Tickie informed. “Actually, a lot of celebrities, like actors and singers and high-prolific people have been presented similar opportunities. It’s a great way to spread their game into influential hands.”

“Rare Lives?” I wondered. “I didn’t hear anything like that from Anastasia.”

“I can’t speak for others, but yeah, Rare Lives.” Tickie laughed. “We’ll see each other in-game, right? I’ll leave the surprise till then.”

“Hm…” If Tickie experience anything like my start, then he probably won’t have control over where he ports into the world. “I’m in city call Suomi. It has a teleport stone there, so it shouldn’t be too hard to get to. When you get there look up and find a bulletin board--”

“Shhh. Don’t spoil the game for me--” While he eagerly mouthed away, a bright light shone from his pocket, followed by vibrations of his phone. He slid his hand into his pocket, pulled out his phone slightly, and took a quick peek at the caller ID. “It’s already this late. I actually have business elsewhere. Your place happened to be on the way, and I’ve been wanting to visit.”

“At this time?” 5:06 A.M. displayed on my monitor’s clock. I wrapped my arms around his shoulder and gave him a nudge. I brought my face closer to his ear and whispered, “Don’t let me keep you from Raine.”

“It’s not like that.” Tickie stood up from the desk chair with a nervous smile. “Anyway, try to keep what I said in mind. Anastasia… I’ve seen all kinds of faces, and hers never strike me as someone who cares about the well-being of other people.”

“You’ve met her once.” I reciprocated his wariness with a smile of gratitude. “Hardly enough time to get to know a person, don’t you think?”

“Perhaps... Nevermind.” Tickie walked towards the door, carefully navigating through the minefield of soda cans. One hand slid into his pocket and brought a phone to his ear. It rung as the other hand waved goodbye with his back turned to me. He opened the door and said, “I’ll leave the spare key in the same place as always.”

The door closed on me as I brought my hand up to wave back. With Tickie now gone I sat on my chair and browsed to the game’s forums. The amount of new posts was staggering. Within the general discussion sub-forum was a live mega-thread titled ‘Day One Experience.’ Recent posts briefed their experience, complimenting the FFDC’s unfathomable appeal to the user’s five senses – the likes of which VR headsets and haptic-feedback gadgets and gears achieved, albeit limited. Other posters agreed with the poster as well, commenting at how the technology was so futuristic compare to other VR-related products. The chains of comments bounced off one-another, engaged and enthused about their experience.

I clicked on the forum’s filtering format to sort by the highest ranked posts. A post, by the user Renajaeya, detailed a very brief list of their experience in the game, and their thoughts about it. I highlighted their text and used the LazyReader application to summon the browser’s built-in reader, a robotic feminine voice, to read it for me.

“Day One of Renajaeya’s Journal:

I spawned into the city of R-Yesson, just like some others reading this. But unlike them, I didn’t want to become the next hero, or do something adventurous like exploring the world. I just wanted to be a guard of the city and chill all day. Weird, I know.

So I took the guard trial, and in doing so, I died. I had to kill some monsters outside the city to prove my worth, or whatever stupid task it was. Combat in this game is hard, especially with how much movement is required. So, I died. Amazingly, what happened was that I died, and resurrected into a skeleton. I don’t know if this is true for everyone out there, but this could be a path unlock if you repeat my steps. I failed the guard trial, but I also discovered something new: an unlock.

Monk, priest, warrior, rogue, and wizards are not the only classes out there.

I’ll now return and live my life as a skeleton. Sgrios calls for me.”

This was the longest comment chain in the megathread with ten-thousand replies. Interestingly, the ones who replied to him fought back and forth about the genuinity of the original poster’s information. They tried replicating his steps, but failed to do so. Those that failed expressed their grumpiness, warning all users to not trust the person’s post, and emphasized that death results in character deletion and a temporary account lock-out of the game.

I scrolled through the thread, unsatisfied by the lack of relevant information I was searching for. Results displayed through the search filters had nothing to do with building a dungeon from scratch. Though, I probably should have not expected much. Those in my position, if there are any out there, are contractually obligated to not publicly talk about it.

Browsing back to the general discussion sub-forum, I noticed a few other hot topics that increased with replies by the seconds.

“THINGS TO DO AND NOT DO: Tips From A Beta Player”

“PSA: In-game death results in perma-death and temporary account lock-out.”

“Lore Video Series: Helpful info to remain in-character while roleplaying.”

The first thread, “THINGS TO DO AND NOT DO: A Tip From A Beta Player,” had some useful information. It stressed that physical movement will take time before most people will be comfortable. Training grounds and non-lethal spars are great ways to go about adjusting and fitting into your in-game body. Walking around town, listening to nearby sounds and taking in the environment are also suggested. Really, anything that uses all of your senses will make the transition easier. Fighting an enemy immediately after character creation would result in death, even to a low level enemy.

The original poster also stressed that roleplaying assumes the position of a character, whoever it may be, but that morality and city laws should still be upheld. Before you do something to another player, question whether you'll like it if someone did the same thing to you. Or, as mothers would say, treat others the same way you'd want to be treated.

The second thread, “PSA: In-game death results in perma-death and temporary account lock-out,” contained the most frustrated vocal players I've seen in any game-related thread. The post was made by Grand Master Tatuge, a title that represents an employee of the game. The only message left by Tatuge was a single sentence: “Don't treat this like any other game.” Many players whom are angered by the temporary account lock-out grieved for a lesser duration. They justified themselves by stating that they spent a lot of money to buy the machine and the game, but to have less than a few hours of playtime is unacceptable. Death threats and explicit words were mixed in there somewhere.

The third thread in the sub-forum, “Lore Video Series: Helpful info to remain in-character while roleplaying,” had several links to Gootube with videos of the game's lore. It was helpful for all role-players that wanted to act as citizens, merchants, guards -- something mundane -- and to blend in with the rest of the NPCs.

One of the videos, titled “Wonders of the World – Earthsea,” had a beautiful portrayal of VFX, background art, and voice-over narration. What really grabbed me was a tall stature of man in a desert holding a small spherical object. There was nothing around him, except for the endless sands below his feet. But after the spherical object rose to air, it shone an outlandish energy that collapsed onto itself, and the surrounding changed from a desert to a castle with lush floras and a happy populace. It was like magic.

Mystified by what I just saw, I looked to the comment section. Those few that commented didn't express the same feelings I had. They were impressed, but took it more as a knowledge to behold, rather than a wonder to explore.

I turned and looked at the diving-casket. Reccu, please tell me you know something about this.