Chapter 74: Mid-nineties Compact Car

“Here it comes. Finally,” Sean said.

“Sean…” said Brett.

“What?”

“You shouldn’t get excited over the next version of death-traps the system is going to throw at you. It’s weird.”

Sean supposed that wasn’t wrong. Whatever the system was sending his way, it almost for sure wasn’t going to be fun and good. Still, he was antsy to see it in a weird way he couldn’t quite explain. He had been watching the clock as soon as he had run out of productive things to do around the Shanktuary, which happened surprisingly quickly.

Shit. I’m not starting to enjoy this, am I? Sean thought. For the first time in a while, he checked in on his emotions to find out how he felt about all this, and immediately verified all was well. He still hated all this stuff. He wasn’t becoming a battle maniac. He just hadn’t cured his baseline attention problems, either.

The base suddenly shook, like spaceships in TV shows did when they were being pelted down with rockets. As Brett sent mental impulses to store all the workshop tools, Sean stumbled out into the hallway to keep their food tree from falling over. After several more seconds, the rumbling stopped, and everything went quiet.

Drama Maximization announcement.

Please go outside so I can do this whole thing I have planned for this. It won’t be as good otherwise.

Rewards: Upon opening the door, gain 30 seconds of completely guaranteed safety for Brett so he can see it too.

“Looks like the system wants you to see whatever’s outside, too.”

“Yeah, I got the same impression.” He shrugged. “I can’t stay in here all the time, and the system isn’t really cheap enough to use those 30 seconds to try to kill me. I think.”

“So let’s do it?”

“Yeah. Let’s do it.”

Sean geared up, keeping the Mystereamer in hand as Brett breached the door to the base. Unlike the forest, which was almost always wreathed in a kind of soft, canopy-filtered light, this place was bright. In the split second it took Sean’s eyes to adjust to it, he saw two walls of brick rising on the right and left of the door and extending on like a hallway before taking a right angle and continuing on out of view. Behind them, a wall just as tall as the others rose, making the other direction a clear dead end.

“What’s this? Some kind of open-air death labyrinth?” Brett said, poking at a brick with an awl.

“No, not that. Look down. Those are cobblestones. Come on, man. It’s gonna be okay, I think.”

Sean led the very nervous and absurdly cautious Brett forward to the bend in the hallway, after which the corridor almost immediately ended, petering out into a large, open, brick and cobblestone area bustling with activity.

Welcome to the village!

Some of the tension of this competition comes from the challenges you face alone. But if I kept it a solo type of thing the whole time, where would the drama come from? The rivalries? The bitter feuds that can only be resolved with the death of some or all of the participants?

The village is the solution for all those things. It’s an enclosed, protected environment. Here, you can go to a tavern knowing that the system won’t allow anyone else to attack you. You can sleep at night knowing your hotel room’s lock is barred by near-absolute regulations from being picked.

That’s in-between activities, of course. Once every day or so, the System will roll a big, crazy dice and toss you into a challenge based on the results it gets. Do you like arenas? We’ve got arenas. Have you ever wanted to try gathering herbs and almost certainly get attacked by a pack of kobolds before you can finish? Get ready for it because we have that too.

Have you ever wanted to slowly fall in love with a prince who was transformed into an ugly monster by a witch? We don’t have exactly that, but we aren’t going to confirm or deny the idea that you might at some point have to kill an ambulatory candlestick.

It’s that kind of place.

All that window dressing is set not to conceal but to enhance the real point of all this. The village is the meat of this competition, the place where performance starts to matter in a real way. Out of the hundreds who have gathered here, only a small percentage will gain the clout it takes to move on and they do that only through risking their lives to create opportunities for victories above and beyond what the average person could achieve.

Don’t despair. Even those who do well in a more conservative way will walk away with enhanced power, new and exciting skills, and the kind of experience you just can't get in the greater, more normal system universe.

Please refer to your villager’s manual for more details. Enjoy!

“Oh, shit. This is awesome.”

Brett side eyed Sean. “Is it, though?”

“Absolutely. I can smell the food vendors from here, Brett. And you can go outside? Isn’t that exciting?”

“Outside is overrated,” Brett said, clearly lying. His head had visibly jerked at the mention of food vendors. “But I guess it’s okay.”

“Oh, hold on, more notifications incoming.”

Day 0 Competitor Standing: Sean Lawrence

Sean Lawrence’s performance is ranked: Above Average

So far, you have faced an above-average amount of danger with a slightly below-average level of combat efficiency. Because of your abnormal use of ingenuity and preparation, you’ve still come out on top compared to the field.

You are currently in the top half of competitors, mostly due to your destruction of another competitor with superior achievements, levels, and arguably better skills.

With that said, the real challenge begins now. A single exceptional success might propel you to the top of the list. But a single substantial failure could mean you end up either at the bottom of the list or in a shallow grave.

Continue on, competitor!

Claimable Rewards: 1200 base points, 200 Village Credits

“Oh, that’s better than I thought.” Sean relayed what was going on to Brett, who nodded in satisfaction.

“It makes sense, I think. Some people wouldn’t have killed each other during their trial, so that’s probably a big bump. And if it’s counting all the people who did get killed on that list…”

“Then I might be above average by default, since it’s possible fully half of the competitors are dead. Yeah, I thought of that.” He tossed the villager’s manual he had received after the notifications to Brett. “Read that real quick, see if it protects you from harm well enough that you can leave this alley with me. Fast.”

“Why the hurry?”

“Did you forget about food vendors?”

“Oh, shit. Yeah, I’m on it.”

—

The villager’s manual was surprisingly large because the system was making a real effort to prove that it was safe to enjoy the space. The practical upshot, summarized over and over again, was that the village was a violence-free zone. You couldn’t hit anybody in it, or set traps, or really do much at all to subvert that effect.

It wasn’t absolute, since the system mentioned “rare but real chances to bend or break the rules on a temporary and minor basis,” but for the most part, it seemed safe enough for Brett to be walking around. Especially since pure, non-competitor support staff were covered under an even higher level of protection that seemed to patch the few exceptions Sean had to guard against.

“You’re okay with this?”

“Yes, it’s fine. I’m not made of porcelain, Sean.”

They emerged from the cover of the alley, walking fairly quickly away in an effort to not let people know that they had a base or where it was. Their first stop, before the shops or the other competitors, were food stands. Some things were just too important to wait on.

“Which do we go to?” Brett asked. “I’m a big lump of meat man, myself. Most of this stuff I don’t even recognize.”

“We could do that, but let’s walk for a bit. I’m pretty sure that guy over there might have ramen.”

“Might have what?” Brett looked confused.

“You mean…” Sean closed his mouth and grabbed him by the arm and dragged him in the direction of the apparent noodle stand. “Shut up. Just shut up and come with me.”

“Hello!” The noodle shop attendant had a pleasant voice. “I am the attendant of this noodle shop and I welcome you warmly. What type of noodle would you like, sirs?”

“Why are you talking like that?” Brett frowned. “It’s weirding me out.”

“Please place your orders! If you have credits, I have noodles.”

“Oh, hell,” Sean said. “It’s an NPC.”

“A what?”

“NPC. It only has so many programmed responses to things.”

“Naw,” said the noodle shop guy. “I’m just screwing with you. Sorry, couldn’t resist.”

—

“So you basically work for the equivalent of interstellar McDonald's?”

The attendant paused for a moment, waiting for the auto-translator to catch up. He had needed to do this several times during the conversation, since his translation device was an ultra-budget version of what the offworlders in the competition had. Suddenly, his eyes lit up with understanding.

“Yeah, basically that. Although this is the absolute top level of that work, something the system picked me for,” he said, slipping Sean some extra noodles. He had topped them off several times for free after their initial payment, something he swore he wouldn’t get in trouble for. “The system pays the corporation for my time, and I get to keep a certain amount of the money that changes hands. It’s not the worst deal.”

Brett was incredibly wary of the noodle guy right up to and even a little bit after he found the section of the villager’s guide explaining they were dealing with a very limited illusory projection of this person. The man couldn’t do much besides serve noodles and only profited from earning credits off them the good old-fashioned way. Selling them food, that is.

“These noodles are the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” Brett said, killing off another bowl and then leaning back on his stool with a swollen stomach. Whatever distrust he had for the attendant had evaporated away at the end of his first bowl of ramen, never to return.

“Thanks,” the attendant said. He explained he didn’t actually cook the noodles or know what they were. The system handled that part. “I’m just here for flavor but that means a lot. I’m hoping I do well.”

“Oh, you will, if I have anything to do with it.” Brett put his broth-swollen hand on Sean’s shoulder, meaningfully. “You have to earn more money. We need to come here every day.”

Sean looked at the attendant. “Does that help you? If we do that?”

The attendant nodded.

“That’s why I’m giving the free noodles out today. I won’t make much off this one, but more than you’d expect. Today, just from you, I’ve made enough to…” The attendant paused while his auto-translate struggled to give him an equivalent purchase that Sean could understand. “To buy a mid-nineties compact car of Japanese make in reasonable condition. If you really do come back every day, it’s a big deal.”