Rush to Level 0 (Chapter 7)

Two things attracted friends and trouble unlike any other: green eyes and shackles. As I found out, the combination was killer, only not for the player who had them. Shackles—gold ones especially—limited all physical powers a person had, while green eyes pretty much ensured they didn’t have the knowhow to overcome these limitations. The moment people saw I had an understanding with the Depository, they were quick to spark conversations, offering deals and advice.

Scammers were the first to approach, often with stories of their first days, eager to give advice “they wish they had known when they started out.” Each one of them seemed nice, pleasant, and extremely believable, just as Kyle had been. And just like Kyle, they quickly moved on when it became clear I wasn’t interested.

Ten minutes after the scammers were gone, the first normal person engaged with me. From what I later learned, he was the village blacksmith’s apprentice—or second blacksmith, as he preferred to address himself—and was interested in teaching me a skill in exchange for raw materials. He also suggested I visit the small market area near the plains entrance. We spent a while chatting, neither of us sharing anything of particular importance, before he went back to his daily chores. I waited a few minutes, then followed his advice.

On the way, I had conversations with the village potion maker, the tanner, and a weird girl I could only assume was the local artist. The only thing she offered was to make a sketch of me should I reach level ninety.

By noon, I had spoken with most of the inhabitants and learned everything I could without engaging in info-barter. My information about the village itself remained spotty. No one could tell me when exactly it had been formed, or by whom. The consensus was that it had been established in the early days of the game by the “golden players” before they had moved to higher-XP areas. Supposedly, two of the original players remained: Axiom, the creator of the Depository, and Leora, the original blacksmith. Both had diminished their exposure to the game, arriving once every few months to check up on things before leaving again.

Another name mentioned was Karas, although there was uncertainty as to whether he was of the original crowd, or if he had appeared shortly after. He had a tendency of appearing every now and again to barter with other low-level players. From what I was warned, it was best to stay out of his way until I got below level seventy-five.

“What do you think?” I scratched Twinkle behind the ear. Having him remain silent all the time made him much more akin to a cat. “Should we settle down here?” Personally, I was still waiting for my punishment to be over, so I could log out. At the same time, getting to know the place filled me with the early enthusiasm of a new player. It had been decades since I had felt a similar sensation.

Twinkle meowed, pawing at my hand.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” I petted him. “Let’s find something to eat.”

One of the bad things about ultra-realistic game worlds was the need for food and water. As a level one hundred newbie, I was told I wouldn’t suffer the effects of hunger, thirst, and sleep deprivation. That didn’t stop me from wanting to. To get food, though, I needed currency, which I had in low amounts.

“Hello again, Sarah.” Elvira passed by. “Are you finding everything to your liking?”

“People are more talkative since I visited you, that’s for sure.” I stood up, then endured Twinkle climb up along my clothes until reaching my head. His claws felt much less AI-like than I was used to. “Word travels fast.”

“Sorry, it’s nothing personal. Trust is never a given in the game. Everything is about discovering the rules of this world and exploiting them. For example—” She took out a silver pocket watch and opened it. “—in a few seconds, your punishment will be over.”

The moment she said that a loud click echoed in my years. The chains and shackles that had been binding me dissolved into the air. I looked at my hands, almost in disbelief. My entire body felt a whole lot lighter.

“Now that you’re unshackled and free to do whatever you want, we need to have something to eat.” Elvira put her watch away. “Fancy a bite?”

I didn’t expect that. Normally, I would refuse. As everyone, including Elvira herself, had pointed out, gifts in the game weren’t free. An invitation such as this could mean anything from a recruitment attempt to a poison attempt.

“Sure.” I smiled. Every rule had an exception. “Lead the way.”

The place we went to was the only one that could pass as a tavern of sorts. Whoever had built the game had clearly not made food a priority. Mortimer’s was the only place in the village that offered food, and it was deserted as a desert at noon. Elvira took us to one of the two tables outside. The moment we sat down, a bowl or pretzels materialized, along with a jug of blue liquid. Remembering my conversation with Spaff, my appetite suddenly vanished.

“How often do you get newbies?” I said, trying to break the ice.

“Quite a lot.” Elvira took a sip from her drink. “Even with all the scammers, I’d say over half of all new arrivals come through here. Some stay, some join a group or wander off to explore on their own.”

“Scammers,” I repeated. “I came across one when I first logged on. Called himself John Smith. Do you know him?”

“I know his kind,” she scoffed. “Flashy, cryptic, always too eager to trade. Don’t worry about them. As long as you don’t make any deals you’ll be fine.” Elvira paused. “Provided you haven’t told him too much already.” Her tone shifted, acquiring a sharp edge.

If there was ever a time to use a fork as a weapon, it was now. From what I could see, there were several people in the area, making that plan questionable.

Calm down, I told myself. She could have hurt me at any point if she had wanted. Besides, I remained immune… unless she had a way of dealing with that. The thought of ejecting from the game came to mind, despite the risk of future system punishment.

“I didn’t tell him anything.” I prepared mentally. Looking at Elvira, I couldn’t tell what weapons she had. Her clothes were highly elegant, more decorative than practical, though for a veteran like her, practicality wasn’t an issue. In the world of pro gamers, the best made a point to be with as few clothes and weapons as possible to flaunt their skill. Elvira was doing the same and hiding it masterfully.

“Sarah.” The woman shook her head with a smile. “Part of my job is to know things about the current player base. Think of it as unofficial bookkeeping. The interesting thing about this world is that there is a very specific way of players joining and leaving the game. Despite what everyone says, there hasn’t been an open newbie window in months. The only way for a hundred-level player to have joined is through a personalized invitation.”

Shit! I gnashed my teeth.

“It isn’t rare for newbies to remain at level one hundred,” Elvira went on. “Some prefer immortality to exploration.”

And I saw what that leads to…

“But there isn’t a player alive that would spend months doing anything.”

“Why do you think I’ve been here for months?” I made a sign under the table for Twinkle to disconnect me.

“I don’t know.” Elvira leaned on her hands, looking at me as if I were a rare specimen. “That’s what makes you refreshing. Everyone has secrets, but I love a sense of the unexpected.”

Damn it, Twinkle! Why are you taking so long?

“To be honest, this my second time I’ve seen an actual Wildcard. I should feel honored.” She took another sip from her glass. “I suggest you keep that particular piece of info to yourself. Some would go through a lot to have you on their side. Willingly or not.”

That explained Kyle’s and the elf girl’s obsession. I was definitely going to have to find the ghost forum. The site had contained all of my info when I was a game candidate; it was a given that it contained other info as well.

“Personally, I prefer the principle of the Depository. Things are much more straightforward that way.” Elvira finished her glass and stood up. “One last thing for you to consider, before you disconnect. Skill and item requirements follow the same principles and other games. The better the skill, the higher the level it requires. Take a minute to think about it.”

The woman took a pretzel, then stood up and left the table

What the hell just happened?

I knew that the best salespeople didn’t sell things; they made customers buy from them on their own. Even so, I still had no idea what Elvira was selling. Was I being recruited? Was she offering a pact of some sort? And if she were, did I have the option to refuse? Three people had forced me into partnering up with them so far. One more would hardly be different, and this time, I got to pick some of my terms.

“Wait!” The word came out of my mouth before I realized it.

Elvira stopped, waited for a few moments then turned around.

“I need to learn.” As I spoke, I buried my fingernails into the palm of my hand. The pain felt real. “I need to learn fast.”

One single nod and my life was about to change. Before I could get it, though, the world around me shattered into voxels.

Power supply low. Emergency log out procedure initiated.

A timer appeared beneath the window message, counting down from five. In the back of my mind, I knew that something important was about to happen, and still I couldn’t look away. The five became a four, then a three, and a two. I felt my body being lifted up into the air, plucked by an invisible force, then thrust into liquid nothingness. Time lost all meaning as my mind screamed, buried under waves of horror, trying to deal with my non-existence. Then, just as quickly, reality emerged again. The feeling of weightlessness, dropping me in an extremely small room, surrounded by darkness.

“Sarah,” a voice echoed in my head. Someone removed my gear, revealing a face that I found vaguely familiar. “Sarah! I told you this was crazy!”

“It’s not crazy,” I replied, confused. “I was okayed to get the info.” Was that Jeff? The features of his face fell in place, but he still looked slightly unfamiliar. “I’m one in a—” A sharp smell hit me in the nostrils, making me recoil in pain. “What the hell?!” If there was anything in the world that could recreate a brick to the nose, this was it.

“Stay calm,” Jeff said, moving his hand away from my face. “Just a bit of ammonia.”

“What did I ever do to you?” There was one good thing about ammonia fumes—they always sharpened the mind like a mega power-up. My room quickly came into focus. I was lying on the floor, propped up against my rig by Jeff, who was holding me upright. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened. “How long was I out?”

“Ten minutes.” Jeff kept a hand beneath the back of my head. “Maybe twenty.”

Twenty minutes... in the game, it had felt like twenty hours. Time clearly was different in both worlds, though it had passed much faster than last time.

“You okay? I can call an ambulance.”

“Just help me to the shower,” I grunted.

A headache was starting to come on. This was one of the reasons why power ejects weren’t used that often. According to the conspiracy sites, the corporations had included a neuro message into the sequences, causing headaches in ninety-five percent of all people when disconnecting in a non-approved fashion. Personally, I didn’t think they’d bother. Then again, I had been wrong before. Leaning on Jeff, I limped my way to the shower.

“You sure about that ambulance?” Jeff asked from the room. I could hear beeps and clicks though the sound of water.

“Are you jailbreaking my gear?” I asked, coming out of my daze.

The last time I felt like this was during my first party with alcohol. Back when I was seventeen, I had managed to buy a few beer coupons thanks to second-hand key sites. In the age of the web, it was nearly impossible for anything beyond the dark web to remain hidden. That didn’t prevent the law from turning a blind eye to consumer crimes. Seeing as the same thing could be just as easily found illegally, some lobby groups had decided it was to everyone’s benefit to “break loose” once in a while, as long as the money kept flowing.

That day, I had downed two full beers with online friends. The taste was terrible, and it wasn’t enough to get me completely trashed. The next day, my head felt as if it had been forgotten in a public laundromat.

“There was a dead cultist a few streets from work,” Jeff said, changing the subject. I stopped the water. “Police and cyber were all over the place. Blocked the area for half an hour.”

That was strange. A simple death shouldn’t have been enough to create such a commotion, much less attract cyber sec’s attention. The city was notorious for its acceptance of techno sects; some went as far as calling it the techno capital of the world. The cults led a comfortable life, enjoying the amount of legal leniency reserved in the past for major religions. On the web, they were completely untouchable.

“Brain aneurysm?” I asked, grabbing a towel.

“Gun shot.” Jeff continued poking with my tech. “Cyber has put it down as dark web rivalries.” That was one of the go-to phrases used when something had to be buried. No one investigated dark web dealings, not unless a one percenter or a major corporation was burned. “The case files are offline, so your guess is as good as mine.”

“Anything about the cultist?” I grabbed the nearest fresh set of clothes. The sight of clothes piles was starting to annoy me. The idea of buying a set of shelves or a space saver was looking more and more tempting by the day.

“Complete unknown. Part of the Agnes Queen of Pings cult, or at least wearing their rosary. You want me to get you a speed mod?” Jeff looked my way. “Perfectly legal. I’ll even use my work account to buy it.”

“Maybe later.” I pulled on a random black T-shirt and buttoned my jeans. This was supposed to be the part where I told him about the game. There’s nothing to it, I told myself. Jeff already knew half of it. There was no point in hiding the rest. “Jeff,” I said in my ‘we need to talk’ voice. “Can you check something for me?”

“Umm, sure?” His eyebrows arched similar to Twinkle’s after making a mess. Knowing Jeff, there were probably a dozen things he had secretly done to get me mad and now was mentally preparing a defense for each.

“Try to find out more about Legion again.” I paused. “And the game.”

“That’s a bit vague.” A tense smile appeared on his face. “Anything else you can give me?”

“No yet.” I hardly knew where to start myself. “Anything you could dig up. Just don’t get in too deep.”

“Sure,” he said. “Info on Legion and the game.”

Fun, fun, fun. Both of us knew the other was lying and both seemed to be okay with it. We stood inches apart, but for all that mattered, we might as well have been on different worlds.

“So, what was it like in there?” Jeff broke the silence.

“I’m not sure. I never managed to properly log on.” Technically, that was true. Shackling wasn’t part of the normal login system. “There was something like a gate. Everything else is fuzzy. And no, you’re not calling an ambulance for me.”

“Sorry that I care.” He frowned. “So, for twenty minutes you just sat there waiting to log on?”

“More or less.” Spoken out loud, it sounded even stupider than it did in my head.

“Okay... are you trying again?”

“Maybe later.”

When I was young, my grandfather used to say that every agreement was similar to a tactical advantage, and the important thing was how to use it to one’s benefit. Growing up, I got to experience his words multiple times per day. In the net world of today, everything revolved round agreements: I agreed to all sorts of things every second I spent online, while the corporations agreed to take my money and not step in unless I did something drastically destructive. Thanks to grandpa, I had also learned that when dealing with people, it was easier to flip the script.

After a minute of small talk, I agreed to have Jeff install a speed mod, along with some additional software—provided it was legal. I knew the total resulting effect to the game would be zero, but it also gave me an hour to come up with a plan of action for my next visit. By now it had become obvious that no one in the game was going to give me a straight answer. The solution was to buy the information by completing Depository tasks, and for that I needed someone with game experience.

I grabbed my phone and I went to the toilet—the one spot in my apartment I was sure Jeff couldn’t see me.

“Twinkle,” I whispered. “Find the ghost forum.”

“Sure thing, Sarah!” The AI shouted, making me quickly turn down the volume of my phone to one. “Do you want me to search beyond the paywall?”

“No,” I hissed. Despite what Jeff thought, money wasn’t going to help me here. “Go to mute!”

I held my breath, listening at the door to make sure I hadn’t attracted Jeff’s attention. At first there was silence, followed shortly by the sound of an electric screwdriver. So far so good.

The first message went to Claire, asking him how the new app had performed. With luck, the results were better than last time, giving him a peephole and me a lifeline. The lack of response suggested the opposite.

“The delivery guys will be here in five!” Jeff shouted from outside. “Just letting you know.”

“Okay!” At least that was going to keep him occupied. “You take care of it. I’ll be out when they’re gone.”

I focused back on my phone, going through my contact list. As I found the person I was looking for, my finger hesitated. There were two numbers on the phone I had sworn never to use. As far as Jeff knew, I had deleted them months ago, purging them completely from the list. The truth was that I had kept them, only I had switched the numbers using a simple privacy key. One of the numbers belonged to Legion—foreign and listed as inactive since the year two thousand. The other number belonged to Kyle.

Everything’s a choice, I told myself and pressed dial. I didn’t have to wait long for a response.

“Why, hello, Sarah,” Kyle replied before the first dial tone had ended. I could hear his annoying smile through the phone. “I guess congratulations are in order? You live to see another month.”

“I want info.” I went directly to the point. The less I had to listen to him, the better.

“Whispering?” he laughed. “Things must be desperate for you to phone me with Jeff around. I’m surprised you haven’t told him.”

“You wanted me involved,” I hissed, half covering my mouth with a hand. “Now I am. Will you help me or not?”

“Always. But only in person. You want info, you set up a meet.”

“You know I can’t.” Jeff was going to flip if he found out. It was difficult keeping secrets from him as it was.

“Everything in the game has a price. This is mine. If you need the answers, we’ll have to meet.” He had an advantage over me and he knew it. “Don’t take too long. The lower level you get, the more opportunities you’ll miss, and unlike real life, you’ll never be able to make up for them.”

The tone was still friendly, but the warning was there. A misstep at this stage would make life in the game all that much more difficult.

“Tomorrow morning, before the early shift,” I began. “I’ll—”

“The Church of Prime Numbers in one hour,” Kyle said, cutting me short. “Jeff mustn’t find out.”

Before I could object the call was over.

Crap!

I tried to call again, but my call was blocked. If I were to gain an early advantage, it was going to have to be on Kyle’s terms. At least until I found an alternative.