The Crystal Crusade Page 16
“Right in front of us,” the Stalker said with a faint smile.
Trees, grass, and stones covered with greens dominated my view.
“Are you sure?”
“Check your e-scroll.”
I looked up the red cross on the world map and zoomed in. No town, no hideout showed up.
“Nothing located either.”
Yumi-D and Stalker simply galloped forward.
“What in the—?”
The distance looked skewed, as if there was a refresh rate issue where two frames interspersed. It looked like a game glitch, but my co-players reacted in a cool manner. When I followed up, I spotted crystalline mirrors protruding from the ground. They reflected the surroundings and created a duplicate image. I carefully navigated my fowl around the plates in the exact route as my partners.
“Welcome home.”
The mirror gate opened. A guard in custom gear waved us in. A watch tower appeared next to my right where two other men observed us from above.
Welcome to Cloudkiss Mountain Village.
(Hideout of the resistance)
Population: 421
“Tricky,” I said and admitted my surprise. Placing your base in the middle of a hard-to-reach mountain forest and disguising your location through crystalline mirror plates was genius. We moved past citizens who eyed us with curious—but not hostile—eyes. What surprised me even more was the advanced technology; this village included lanterns, lumberjacks with mechanized axes, and shielded houses with roofed plates reminiscent of solar panels. If Sunblood was in charge, they’d have forbidden this machinery. Yumi-D reached a square-shaped, brick building near a set of dark-leaved trees. For the first time, I wished my VR set came with smell-o-vision. This lofty village must have been scented with forest and mountainous herbs.
“Here’s the stable for our birds,” Yumi-D said.
Low-pitched screams and rattling sounded from the double doors of the stable. We galloped into an earth-colored building with dozens of box-shaped barns. I spotted an adjacent tack room with an office and friendly personnel that guided our animals into the vacant spots.
“Welcome back, y’all,” the lady said.
“You know each other?”
Mort spoke for Yumi-D. “It’s not the first quest we’ve done for the resistance.”
I stalled my fowl and dismounted. Riding those feathery raptors was a blast, but I had more control walking with my character. Yumi-D, Mort, and Ritter walked toward the exit gate and waved me over. “Let’s introduce you to the leader.”
I followed them into the light when a heading entered my upper HUD.
“Warning. You’ve been playing for over six hours. It’s time to rest.”
Time blitzed by when you quested like a maniac.
Too bad. I would have loved to know the leader behind this unique faction, but I had to abide for now. The real life clock struck midnight, and I had to get up early to prepare for a certain freak tomorrow. The thought alone showered my body with fear and caused my hands to shiver in the game.
“I’m afraid I have to quit for today.”
My co-players stopped in their tracks.
“Well, it was an honor to serve alongside you.”
“Ditto. Can’t wait to embark on more adventures and level up.”
Yumi-D’s grimace suddenly darkened. “Have a good sleep, Dash, but don’t stay offline for too long. Remember that if our levels are too far apart, we won’t be able to do quests together.”
It almost sounded like a warning, but I was too tired to argue. My capability to articulate myself dropped to zero points. “I’ll keep that in mind. Later, fellow Crusaders.”
They waved goodbye and turned the corner of the stable. The game saved my current status. I logged out and ended up in the menu screen. Back in the real world, in front of my computer in my smelly room, I unstrapped the VR helmet and gloves. I took a deep breath in and tried to adjust to the dim reality that now dominated my life. No matter how dire the circumstances became in Fourlando, I always felt fulfilled. Whether I was partaking in a sabotage mission, running through infected sewers, or cutting mutated snakes, I always felt alive.
Fourlando, you heaven of mine.
But now I had to reconcile with the grim situation of my second life. I took a quick shower, put on my PJs and slipped into bed. Tomorrow, I’d fight a boss far worse than any overpowered enemy from the VR game.
Mr. Ustinov.
42
The first thing I saw when my eyelids lifted was Ustinov looking down at me like a mad scientist. His hawkish nose entered my private space. My desire to punch him skyrocketed.
“What the hex are you doing in my room?”
“Remember our appointment today, Dash?”
“It was supposed to be around nine a.m.!”
“It’s almost half-past nine.”
The clock confirmed his statement. Damn, I had overslept again. Those midnight sessions robbed me of sleep. I needed to better accommodate my time if I wanted to survive the rest of the week with this freak.
My eyes looked past his shoulders and got stuck on my VR set still plugged into the computer. The terror hit me. Last midnight, I forgot to delete my local save files. Somehow, I had tricked my exhausted mind to postpone the security measure to today’s morning which I overslept. And now the freak from the government stood in my domain, playing his mental psycho games with me.
Bad, bad, bad.
Ustinov tilted his head and spoke with artificial clarity. “Dash, have you played the game yesterday?”
Up until now, I was still allowed to play, just not with my old account, so I could carefully avoid lying. “I did.”
“For how long?”
Would he know? The computer protected access with my bio ID. No one could access it unless he hacked my bio-data.
“A few hours,” I said.
Ustinov craned his head after the computer and watched it like a rabies-infested dog waiting to attack.
“Why don’t you get dressed? I’d love to start the next phase.”
Next phase? Sounded like a goddamn secret weapon program from the government. I slouched out of my bed with my eyes set on the terminal.
“Would you mind waiting outside? You can’t just burst into my room.”
“Agreed.”
He walked toward the kitchen counter with his back turned to me. I shut the door, authorized the computer access, and quickly looked up at the game save files. I wanted to delete them when I noticed the red warning sign of my online connection.
I simply couldn’t connect to the internet no matter how many times I tried. I started the diagnostics program which told me to restart the router. I left my room and went to the living room where Ustinov sat sipping a glass of water like the goddess of innocence herself.
A dark worry dawned on me.
“Ready?”
“My internet’s not working.”
His demeanor looked too calm for my taste. Like he anticipated my words. “I’m no data specialist, but maybe that has to do with your router being missing.”
My eyes jotted toward the telephone box where the device was indeed missing.
Ustinov stood up and strove his palm past the suit. “Your and I mother agreed to disconnect the router for the duration of today’s session.”
“Disconnect? You took my router.”
“Your router? Did you pay for it?”
The bastard. He knew my mother paid for it. I wondered how much Mom told him about me.
“Why didn’t you ask me?”
“Because we would have both known the answer.” Ustinov quickly added, “Let’s start this day afresh.”
He pointed toward the table near the living room. A pen and paper awaited me. Like, the physical version. But I doubted Ustinov wanted to play old school Dungeons & Dragons with me.
“Obviously you like the game,” he said, “but we all know that nothing is perfect, not even our favorite pastimes. That’s why
I want you to write down five things you dislike about the game.”
“Why?”
“I want you to realize that the object of addiction is almost never as perfect as one might think.”
He flipped open the camera function of his wristband. “This is just for research purposes and accountability sessions.”
He pointed the camera in my direction like a reporter hoping to snatch the story of a lifetime. “Start with one issue about the game. Something you’re annoyed with, something that you think is unfair.”
He paused with a reassuring smile. “I’ve read pages of forum threads about the imbalance and errors in the game. Surely one thing must bug you.”
Denying it would only spark more conversation, so I played along to fill the time until I could get back into the game world again. “Well, I did like the idea of unlimited lives in the beginning of the game. You could experiment with different tactical approaches and even try crazy actions without fearing losing your character, items, and stats. I find permadeath pretty hardcore.”
Mr. Ustinov gleamed. If he were a nuclear reactor, his smile would have radiated by now.
“Very good, write that down.”
I did.
“Give me another issue you face with the game.”
“Well, I wished there was more of a guideline when you start out in the game. Once you finish the Academy’s obligatory field mission, you pretty much get thrown into the world. With so many factions, towns, and quests around, it’s overwhelming for a beginner. You just don’t know where to go next.”
The smile widened on Mr. Ustinov’s face. “I’ve heard that complaint from many players. A beginner needs a guideline or a helping hand to know what to do next. Some sort of mentorship.”
“Yeah.”
“Good, write that down also. What else is faulty with the game?”
The criticism flooded my mind. Once I started admitting one flaw in the game, many more surfaced. “A couple of things. When I met other players in the first quest, they lynched me for making morally ambiguous decisions.” I paused. “They called me girl killer and axe thief because of how I treated non-playable characters.”
He nodded. “Do you think that other players take NPCs too seriously?”
“Maybe a little. It’s weird if you treat a digital figure the same way as a player. I mean, an NPC is an artificial product made out of ones and zeroes while players are real human beings made out of flesh and blood.”
“How did it make you feel when rival players scolded you for mistreating these artificial characters?”
My body relived the emotions as the memory flooded my mind. “Angry. Frustrated. Sad. I thought it was ridiculous. I wanted to tell those uptight players to get a goddamn life.”
Mr. Ustinov laughed. His wristband shook which probably messed up the recording, but the guy chuckled on. “Wow. Did you openly voice your frustrations?”
“I did.”
“How did the other players react?”
“They either frowned or broke up the conversation.”
“Interesting. Write it all down. This is fascinating to witness.”
I spent the next hours writing down every single flaw I found in the game. In the end, I had penned a novella-sized report of criticism.
“See?” Mr. Ustinov finally said. “Maybe it’s not the perfect game after all.”
“Well, I never said it was perfect.”
I couldn’t believe what had happened. For the first time, I agreed with Mr. Ustinov.
43
After another hour, Ustinov talked about another patient he had to visit. Some girl in Pueblo West who was halfway healed thanks to his methods. According to him, that patient had become a productive member of society and landed a job that hadn’t been replaced by robots yet. Well, good for her.
I had waved goodbye to Ustinov with mixed feelings when I noticed something unusual; my lust for gaming had fizzled out.
Maybe I had played too much and needed to rest for more than twenty-four hours. Maybe I lacked the right strategy to be more successful. Or maybe I wasn’t as hardcore as I thought I’d be and pro gaming was reserved for the fanatics. So instead of diving back into the VR world, I called up Sparrow for a strategy session and some tactical tips that would help me be more effective. It took only few rings to connect with my favorite bird.
“Hey, it’s me, Dash.”
“I figured by your voice.”
“Tell me if I’m bothering you.”
“I’m grinding in low-risk areas. It’s fine for now.”
The pause lingered. I hesitated to reveal my thoughts. “Your breathing is heavy. Something is on your mind.”
Even over the audio connection, she could read my emotional state. Rather impressive. “I just wanted to get a few tactical tips if that’s okay with you.”
She paused. “If you want, you can tell me what’s really going on.”
Boy, she was really good.
“Did that government guy visit you today?”
“He did. He took my router in the beginning but later gave it back to me.”
“Mmm. So you’ve managed to deal with the guy?”
“Well, today was rather harmless. He just made me write down a bunch of things.”
“As in?”
“Just a few things I didn’t like about the game, you know, the fact that you face permadeath outside the Academy. Or the lack of mentorship after you passed the field test. Stuff like that.”
“Let me guess—he made you write down all the criticism and forced you to read it aloud. Right?”
“How do you know?” I asked.
“Oh-uh.”
“What?”
“That’s bad; as in critical bad.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He used non-physical torture methods to manipulate you.”
She sounded like a conspiracist from a third-rate fake news feed.
“Are you serious?”
“What you just told me sounds like the brainwashing tactics communists had used in the Korean War. They imprisoned US soldiers, deprived them of sleep, and made them write down things they disliked about the US and capitalism. They then told the soldiers to read aloud their essays in front of their comrades. Piece by piece, the communists changed the ideology of the US prisoners.”
She paused. “Here comes the freaky part.”
“I’m not sure I want to hear it.”
“When the soldiers were released and returned to their homes in the US, they were questioned about their tortures. Well, the soldiers claimed they weren’t tortured at all and said that the communists were actually quite friendly. They even defended communism and claimed it was superior to Western democracy and capitalism. Do you see what happened?”
“They brainwashed prisoners into hating what they loved.”
She released a confirmative sigh over the connection. “Sounds like that guy wants to do the same with you. Be vigilant.”
I trusted her. Everything she had told me so far had turned out to be valuable. Worse, her explanation painted Ustinov in a darker light than before, if that was even possible. This guy possessed a sharp intellect and serious skills in the manipulation department.
“Keep me up-to-date with his tactics,” Sparrow said. “We need to work together.”
“You’re like my guardian angel right now.”
“Even better—summoning me doesn’t cost you any Reepo particles.”
We finished the call. I felt that our relationship had deepened over the past week.
Still, danger lurked around the corner.
Only a few days remained until the week with Ustinov ended. I promised myself to stay vigilant and use every game minute with the utmost care.
After all, I was on a mission to make money.
44
Despite the stress scratching at my nerves, the second my mind got pulled into the world of Fourlando, my muscles seemed to relax. Breathing flowed. Dopamine shot
up my veins.
I found myself in an inn-styled house with earthy walls, technical drawings, and an azure fire banner promising freedom and opportunity. The room I had ‘slept’ in functioned both as a recovery and save spot for my avatar. It took a second to realize where I was located.
Ah yes, Western Norsefalia, Cloudkiss mountain village, hideout of the resistance; one of the many splinter groups that had picked up the fight against the Sunblood Syndicate which had spread its tentacles into every corner of the mainland. Before I left the chamber, I looked at my skill menu and realized that two undistributed points waited for me. And with my Level 12 character, I could now invest in the sought-after Chainlink ability.
Chainlink allows you to access chain-and leash-based weapons, such as motor lassos, harpoons, and grapple hooks. Chainlinking can be used to climb up walls and obstacles. You can stun enemies, slow down their advance and even push them toward you for additional melee combos. If you’re fast enough, you might even be able to cling on bigger enemy types.
Tip: Different Chainlink versions will grant you additional skills and side effects. You will discover new abilities further down the path of mastery.
Double nice. The only problem? I needed a weapon that supported the Chainlink ability, and I did not possess one yet. Still, I invested two points into the skill. Range increased to +5 meters while cooldown reduced by 10%.
I left my room and walked down the stony stairs to the ground floor reception. A young woman with blue streaks in her shoulder-long hair waved to me. “Morning, Dash. I hope you have recovered from your battles.”
“The body’s okay, it’s the mind I’m worried about.”
She tilted her head. “Are you suffering from post-traumatic battle disorder?”
“I think my mind’s just overwhelmed dealing with two different worlds, back and forth.”
“You’re getting too spiritual for me.”
Being a simple but cute NPC in an industrialized village, she had no idea what I was talking about.
“Oh, by the way. Our leader wants to talk to you.”
“Who’s that?”