Travail Online: Transcend: LitRPG Series (Book 3)

by Brian Simons

  It would also eliminate the possibility of running into the mayor, or Tawn for that matter.

  “Okay,” Daniel said. “Giddyup!”

  20

  Daniel took his visor off and stretched. He went downstairs to the kitchen to make lunch and take a much needed break from Travail while Sybil did the same.

  He found his mother standing over the sink, wringing her hands and staring out the window into the small patch of concrete they called a backyard.

  Daniel didn’t say anything, he just opened the refrigerator to see what food there was. The sound of the fridge opening attracted his mother’s attention.

  “Daniel,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically warm. He scanned the contents of the fridge. Half a loaf of bread and a few slices of cheese singles.

  “We need to talk,” she continued. He took the bread and cheese to the counter to start making a pitiful sandwich.

  “I’m behind on the mortgage,” she said, “by a lot.”

  “What do you mean, a lot?” he asked. “I give you money each month for my share.”

  “I know you do,” she said softly, “and I’m grateful for that. But we need to pay off six months’ worth of the mortgage right now or else…”

  “Six months! How?”

  “It was supposed to be a surefire thing,” she said, words tripping over themselves to get out of her mouth. “It was a small bet with a big payoff, but it didn’t pan out, so I had to keep going. You know that right, you don’t just stop when you’re down by that much, you need to make it right. Because luck can change in an instant. But I was on a bad streak, Daniel. And I’m out of money to try again. I feel like it’s just around the bend though, a big win to set everything straight, but I don’t have the money to keep trying. So I need your help.”

  “I thought,” Daniel said, balling his fists, “that you were only betting your disability checks. I thought,” he clenched his teeth, “that you weren’t stealing my hard-earned money and pissing it away at the track. I thought,” he felt himself shaking now, “that you had enough self-control not to ruin our lives.”

  She bowed her head and started to cry. “I don’t know how to fix this. I need your help.”

  “What am I supposed to do, just come up with half a year’s worth of mortgage payments? What happens now, they foreclose on the house?”

  “They already have,” she said. “But we can still fix it. There’s not much time, but—”

  Daniel left his food on the counter and left the kitchen. This house was plain, but it had always been his home. He suddenly felt like a stranger in it.

  “Daniel?” his mother called out.

  “I can’t fix this,” he said. “It’s too late.” He marched upstairs and locked his bedroom door behind him. His mother continued to talk through the door as he paced the small length of his room. Finally, he picked up a backpack and put his visor in it and a clean, folded pair of pants and a polo shirt.

  He unlocked his door and walked past his mother. “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “Out.”

  “Fine,” his mother’s voice regained its usual sniping tone. “Don’t expect to have a home here when you get back.”

  21

  Coral opened her eyes to a ceiling full of halogen lightbulbs. She slid her visor off her face and sat up from the floor, unsure whether her neck hurt more, or her back.

  “How’d it go?” Hector asked, sitting on the edge of the couch in his office.

  “Fine,” Coral said. “Actually, not fine. The whole game is falling apart, and these ruined souls are destroying all the resources. That, combined with the lag, is making the game harder. In a bad way. Something is going haywire.”

  “This may surprise you,” Hector said, “but we don’t control the game’s content directly. We create a series of modules with settings, characters, mobs, quests, and rewards. Then we embed them in the game’s automated intelligence system. The game monitors player activity and launches content when certain parameters are met.

  “The ruined soul content was created a long time ago. Ruined souls infect and destroy resources, removing them from the game to make sure gathering resources is still a challenge, even if the player count drops. Currently, the player count is too high for ruined soul content, it would destroy the game’s balance. Frankly, I’m astounded it ever launched. Unless someone went in and changed the trigger conditions…”

  “If you know about the content,” Coral asked, “what are we supposed to do about it? What happens next?”

  “I may hate Domin, but I believe in the integrity of this game. I can’t go around telling players all of its secrets. I’ll say this though. There are contingency modules for different player-driven outcomes. Maybe the ruined souls destroy everything; maybe you destroy their source. Maybe you allow transcendence, maybe you stop it. The game will progress differently depending on what you and other players do. Then the servers synchronize the content so everyone moves forward together.”

  “Transcendence?” Coral asked.

  Hector pursed his lips together. “See, now I’ve said more than I should have.”

  “And the lag?” Coral asked.

  “The lag is only going to get worse. Domin just took another server offline in the Midwest. Chicago’s in for a surprise influx of a few million players from Indiana.”

  “That can’t be good for business,” Coral said. “I know it’s not good for mine.”

  “Listen,” Hector said, “about these videos.”

  “I don’t like it,” she said. “Why should I make happy little videos when my parents are trapped in an Arbyten facility in Sierra Leone? I want to know they’re okay first.”

  “I want to know that too,” Hector said. “I’ve tried contacting them, but our connection to the Sierra Leone training facility has been shut off. I think Domin did that on purpose. I honestly don’t know if your parents are okay. Or if they’re even still there.”

  Coral sat on the couch next to Hector and put her face in her hands. “All they wanted was to find work. This is my fault. If I hadn’t posted that stupid message—”

  “No,” Hector said. “You did the right thing. I’ve tried to confront Domin about some of the strange things that have been happening with the game, but he shuts me down every time. Someone has to do something.”

  “I have to make sure my parents are okay,” Coral said. “I’ve taken one video so far, but it’s not going to help.”

  “Why not?” Hector said.

  “It starts off okay, but then the ground caves in, players start freaking out, ruined souls destroy an NPC and turn him into a weird cheetah-ogre hybrid, and then the game gets all laggy. It’s not what Domin’s looking for.”

  “No,” Hector said, “but it’s exactly what I’m looking for.”

  “How so?” Coral asked.

  “Domin has a problem on his hands, and he’s trying to sweep it under the rug. This might give us both a chance to stop things from devolving too far. This game is your livelihood as much as it is mine. We both want to protect it. In fact, I don’t think Domin realized what he was doing when he put the two of us in touch. Together, we can stop him.”

  “I don’t know what you’re planning, but if it puts my parents in danger I’m out.”

  “He won’t have to know you had a hand in this,” Hector said. “Send me the worst footage you can. I’ll take it to the Board of Directors and force Domin out. He’s already on thin ice.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Coral said. “But for now, I think our five minutes are up.”

  “Of course,” Hector said. He rode the elevator with her and walked her out to the black car waiting to drive her back to Philadelphia.

  Fifty or so people were sitting on the grass outside the building, while a dozen others stood with signs. One said, “Kill Domin. Loot his Corpse.”

  “You’re not the only one suffering here,” Hector said. “Here’s my card. Just think about what I said.”


  Coral nodded and climbed into the car. If she made a protest sign, it would probably say, “Domin Ansel. The Original Ruined Soul.”

  22

  Coral unlocked the door to her house and dropped her bookbag by the front door before walking upstairs to her bedroom. She was lightheaded and nearly lost her balance, grabbing the railing for support. It was too soon to decide whether to record good videos or bad. If she found something suitable for Domin, she might get to talk to her parents to make sure they were okay.

  She lay down on her bed, put on her visor, and waited for the Ogrelands to come into view. Instead, a small box appeared before her with a simple message.

  >> Login failed; Server full.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered as she pulled the visor from her face and sat up on her bed. She went to her desk and fired up her laptop. No email back from her parents. She had been trying to schedule another video call for the past week to no avail.

  Coral wandered over to the Travail Online message boards. Amid the posts detailing how hard it was for players to find decent resource nodes or how impossible it was to sell anything these days, was one news article that caught Coral’s eye.

  Guild Spawn Chronicles Goes Under — Players to Respawn Elsewhere

  Palo Alto, CA — Guild Spawn Chronicles (GSC), the second-largest MMORPG, announced bankruptcy today, sending hundreds of millions of players into a panic. After years of declining revenue, the company will cease competing with main rival Travail Online. Many players relied on GSC for income. Those affected may soon migrate to other platforms in hopes of starting over.

  Coral wasn’t prone to anxiety, but a wave of it coursed through her when she read that short paragraph. How would the game possibly absorb more players, now that it was already attracting new players in record numbers?

  She closed her laptop and determined to try logging in again and again until she found an open spot on the server. She reached for her visor when the doorbell rang.

  Coral walked down the stairs and peered through the front door’s small window before opening the door.

  “Daniel,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “I know,” he said. “I still had your father’s clothes from the last time I was here for a few days and needed something to wear. I figured I should drop these off before too much time elapsed. I washed them.” He pulled a polo shirt and pants from his backpack. They were folded, but wrinkled.

  “Thanks,” she said. “Did you want to come in?”

  “Sure, just for a minute though.” He stepped through the door. “I sent you a few messages, I don’t know if you saw them.”

  “I haven’t really checked my messages,” Coral said. “I’ve been pretty busy.” She closed the door behind him and then leaned against it for support.

  “Oh,” Daniel said. “I heard you ran into Sal in the Ogrelands.”

  “Yeah,” Coral said, “I guess he told you about that?”

  “He was pretty excited to see you,” Daniel said. “Any of us would be. I’m sure Sybil misses you too, though she’s not likely to admit missing someone.”

  “I miss you guys too,” Coral said. She knew it was the right thing to say, but she didn’t realize until she said it that she meant it. The past week of adventuring on her own was mostly sitting by the river and crafting in between slaying mud golems. The predictability was nice at first, but it was wearing on her. At least, until things became completely unpredictable earlier that morning.

  “Sybil and I just left The Ersatz after finishing a few quests. Got some decent loot. We’re planning to trek through Diardenna now if you want to join up.”

  “I saw the notification. Congratulations,” she said. “I have quests of my own I have to take care of though.”

  “Of course,” Daniel said. “I didn’t mean to push it.” He paused. “I am sorry. I hope you know that.”

  “For almost poisoning me? I’m over that.”

  “More than that,” he said. “Sybil and Sal always let me take the lead, so I just got used to acting like I was in charge. I should have been more open to input.”

  “So should I,” Coral admitted. She slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor. “When I posted to the message boards to tell everyone to break their visors, it didn’t even occur to me to ask you guys if that was a good move. I was so sure of myself. I acted the same exact way that I faulted you for.”

  Daniel shrugged. “It all worked out though, and it’s not like you put anyone on the team in danger like I did.” He walked toward the carpeted steps and sat on the lowest one, leaning against the pole to the stairs’ railing.

  “I think I’ve done worse than that. I’ve made an enemy, Daniel.” She told him all about her trip to Arbyten’s headquarters.

  He sat for a moment, likely absorbing the gravity of what Coral had just said. This was worse than poisoning someone’s avatar. This was real life danger. “What are you going to do?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t want to give Domin the footage he asked for. It would give a false impression to people thinking about starting Travail. I also don’t want my parents to get hurt.”

  “My mom’s losing the house,” he blurted out. “I know that’s not the same thing, but while we’re sharing. It turns out she was gambling everything away. All the money I gave her for the mortgage is gone. She was never paying the bills in the first place.”

  “That’s terrible,” Coral said. She thought about offering him a place to live with her, but she hesitated. They hadn’t met that long ago, and already they hadn’t seen each other for a week. Their friendship needed to regenerate a bit first, and she wasn’t sure how quick its regen rate would be.

  “I’ll figure it out,” he said. They sat in silence, but Coral didn’t mind. It was nice just to sit with someone. Someone that didn’t work for Arbyten.

  “Not to be rude,” Daniel said, “but do you smell that?”

  Coral looked around and realized she felt a little dizzy. She reached for her backpack and unzipped it. “Oh jeez,” she said. “Things happened so quickly at Arbyten earlier that I didn’t get to eat the lunch they set up. I packed up my sandwich but forgot all about it. It’s a goner now.”

  She stood and took a few steps toward the kitchen to throw the old food away, but then stumbled.

  “Are you ok?” Daniel asked.

  “I may not have eaten much the past day. Or five. I’ve been working so many hours and not logging out to eat.”

  “Let me make you some food,” he said, walking behind her to the kitchen.

  “No, it’s fine,” she said. He opened the refrigerator anyway.

  “You have eggs, bread, and butter,” he said.

  “The bread may be stale.”

  “Okay, stale bread,” he said, “but not moldy. I can still make you egg-in-a-hole.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but changed her mind. “I hope you make yourself some too.”

  A few minutes later Daniel sat with her in the kitchen and the two ate a meager meal together. “You can hang out here for a while if you want,” she said.

  Popping the last bite into his mouth, Daniel said, “It takes a while to get home to Manayunk from Fishtown. I should head back. I’m not sure at all what’s going to happen next in the forest and I’m sure Sybil is waiting for me. We spent all day liberating the minotaurs in the hope that they’d help us with the elves, but no luck. They’re too weak after fighting off the drow. The mayor wanted me to ignore the minotaurs and free Embra instead so we could get Hiber on our side. It’s too late for that now.”

  “Sal and I are heading to Havenstock next,” Coral said. “I’m not sure we can save Embra with everything else we have going on. It’s not one of our quests, so there’s no reward in it, and I have to get back to earning up some gold. But maybe, if it’s not too complicated, we could give it a try.”

  “That’s more than I could ask for. Thank you,” Daniel said. He s
tood up from the table and brought the dishes to the sink before Coral walked with him to the front door.

  “Listen,” he said, “if you need anything, in the game or out of it, just PM me.”

  “Thanks,” she said. Closing the door behind him, she felt better. Not just for having eaten, but for having started to patch things up with Daniel. She wondered what kept her from messaging him earlier. Maybe she was too afraid to admit that they were so much alike.

  23

  Coral placed her visor on and lay down onto her bed, appearing back in the Ogrelands where she had last logged off. Already, ogre NPCs were hard at work rebuilding the tented dwellings that had been demolished during the battle with the ruined souls.

  Coral climbed through Aga’s tunnel and reemerged outside the ogres’ kingdom. She was happy to take off her mud mask and sit in the grass. Before looking for Varta, Aga, and Sal, she wanted to finish up that cheetah outfit she had promised.

  The suture thread in Coral’s sewing kit was surprisingly strong. She laid a spool and needle on the ground next to the cheetah pelt and took out her fabric shears.

  The cheetah’s fur was already cut from the front of its neck down to below its navel. The game guided Coral’s hands in the right direction as she cut from that lowest point toward the hip, through the animal’s natural tan and chocolate brown spots, and back around to the pale, fluffy fur on its underside to finish cleaving the pelt in two. She set the animal’s lower half aside and focused on the animal’s top half first.

  If she handled this piece correctly, it would yield the helmet, body armor, and gauntlet sections of a full set of Skinwoven armor. The trouble was, Varta’s frame was so wide and round, and her arms so girthy, that she would hardly fit into the skin as it was.

  First Coral separated the cat’s arms from its torso. The growing number of severed cat parts in the grass made her feel like a psychopath in the midst of a massacre. She suppressed her misgivings and moved forward, hoping that the end result would be functional enough and fashionable enough to make up for it.