Dream Stream Reality: Publisher's Pack Books 1-2: (A LitRPG Adventure)

by Derrick Burke

  “Ha! Fair enough, then.” I laugh as I pull up my contacts list and call a mate I haven’t heard from in a while.

  The phone rings twice before a gruff voice answers, “Removalist specialists, you’re speaking with Dylan.”

  “Dylan! How you going? Is that any way to speak to your old guildy?” I say cheerfully before putting on a hurt voice. “I thought we were friends.”

  “Donald?! Hey, man, I would have thought you would be glued to your DSR2 for the next two weeks at least. What can I do you for?” Dylan exclaims in his deep, gravelly voice.

  “Well, see, things are a bit complicated, to be frank. Short version or long version? How much time do you have?” I ask.

  “Well, considering me and the boys have just finished our last haul for the day and are heading home to get some DSR2 in ourselves, I’m doing quite well. Though since I’m driving and have the hands-free set up, maybe the short version?”

  “Okay, you ready? I’m gonna hit you with some good, bad and uglies,” I say, getting everything sorted in my head.

  “Hit me,” he replies.

  “Right. Short version. I received a Beta Chest from DSR—”

  Suddenly there is this loud screech of tyres from my phone speaker and I have to hold it away from my ear.

  “You what?!” shouts Dylan in shock. “Hold up, I’m pulling over. I nearly cleaned up a two-seater smart car. Bloody things always come flying out of nowhere. I’m putting you on speaker and the other boys are gonna listen in if you don’t mind.”

  I wait for a moment before I continue. “That’s cool. So yeah, I used the Beta Chest with my regular crew. You know, Ezekial, Ifalna, Kazzrak and Dosan? Well, we’ve been playing over on another continent with the beta test, but I can’t tell you any more on that subject unfortunately.

  “Today we went to the DSR headquarters to complete our registration, and I saved a hot chick from being run over by a bus and she goes all ‘I want to fuck your brains out’ on me. I, in my infinite wisdom, say no to her in front of all her friends because I have a girlfriend. She turns into a psycho bitch from hell, and now I have a lifetime enemy who stabbed at least one dude in the nuts with a pair of scissors. Dude lost a nut too.”

  As I take a breath to continue, I hear the exclamations of pain and sympathy for the guy they never met.

  “Anyway, I complete my registration and now I’m getting paid a fuck load to test their game for them. I checked my bank and I’m twenty grand richer and will continue to get that for the next year. These guys have a very prompt payment plan, it seems.”

  “Whoa! Drinks are on you, mate! When are we celebrating?! I want to be at that party,” shouts one of the boys in the truck with him.

  “Ha! Yeah, we’ll have to have a party soon.” I laugh; then my voice turns serious. “I’m not done yet. While I’m here, guess who walks into the lobby of DSR? Rosie, that’s who. She’s hanging off some Hercules-looking fella. You know the one, the stuck-up prick of a guild leader of the Imperials. Remember how he kept ganking you and a few lowbies you were escorting and showing the ropes?”

  “Fuck off, mate, you can’t be serious. That chick would sooner do something really stupid before she stepped one foot in there. Not to mention cheating on you with that sleaze-ball. You must have seen wrong,” Dylan disagrees with vehemence. “She’s pretty crap about being around your friends, but she doesn’t seem like the one who would cheat.”

  “That’s what I thought too,” I say dispassionately. “So I started texting her and was getting some fucked-up responses that coincided with when the chick in the lobby was texting. The whole time she is playing twister with Hercules’s tongue, and when I call her, the ringtone she has for me started playing on loud in the lobby. My crew are here with me and had to haul my ass to the floor so I didn’t go and do something stupid to the sleaze-ball, as you rightly say. Putting it mildly, I owe DSR for damages to their furniture.”

  Fuzzy interrupts me and yells in the direction of the phone, “It was a bloody ripper too! Haven’t had that good a tussle since those pub-crawl boys tried to give us trouble a while back at that place we went to for your thirtieth.”

  “Hey, when did that happen? I don’t remember seeing that footage,” Blake says with a twinge of hurt.

  “Ha! Chuck me on speaker, will you?” Dylan laughs.

  I look at Blake and shrug, setting the phone down on the coffee table. “Before your time, mate.”

  “Doug! I haven’t seen you in ages! If your tussle was that good, any chance I can get the video? Wait, was this one of your code black moments? Oh god, please tell me you have video?!” Dylan says excitedly. “I’ll trade you for my thirtieth. I managed to get the footage from the club owner.”

  Glancing over at the guards, I raise an eyebrow in question.

  “I might be able to, uh, circulate the section of camera footage in question.” Billy coughs into his hand. “In trade, of course.”

  “Yes! Oh god, yes!” Dylan shouts in joy. “Boys, you are going to be in for a real treat, I tell you. So, did you manage to find out if it was actually Rosie? Because I might just have a wee problem with her if that’s the case.”

  “The head of security for DSR matched her face to Rosie’s driver’s licence using facial-recognition software. Here’s the kicker though. And I don’t think I’ve fully turned this over in my head yet, but she has been playing DSR1 for a year and was actually part of the Imperials guild. She was invited to be a part of the beta by none other than Mr Hercules sleaze-ball himself, who just so happens to be the Hercules that she was swapping spit with.”

  I have to stop there for a moment and rein in the ball of emotions I shoved deep down, lest they spill out again. I take a large gulp of my coffee and hope it somehow helps a little. Wishful thinking, right?

  “I see. That’s it, then. Done and dusted in my book,” says Dylan sombrely.

  “Quite right, my friend, that chapter of the book is closed,” I agree, then launch into a list of things to do. “Here’s what I need from you. I need everything in my house packed up and put in storage. Sort everything out into three piles. Mine, Rosie’s and maybe. Realistically, now that I’m thinking about it, all the furniture and big-ticket items are mine. Rosie mostly just has clothes, bathroom crap and knick-knacks around the joint. Can you drop my motorbike round to the DSR building with the gear and all my clothes?

  “Looks like I’m moving in here till I can be bothered sorting this mess out. Chuck the rest of my stuff in storage along with the maybes. I’ll text you the address of one of Rosie’s friends, and you can drop her crap off there. Fuck, she has my four-wheel drive. I’ll send you the GPS coordinates, and my keys are on the hook by the door. Can you bring it here as well? I’ll have to get a locksmith to change the locks.

  “What else? Oh, I have the funds, so I’ll pay you double if you can get started tonight. Actually, just because I know how much stock metal I have in the shed and how much of a bitch moving my forge and anvil is going to be, I’ll pay you triple. My next call is to my real estate agent, so the quicker I can rent out my house, the better. What time frame should I give her?”

  “Mate, if you really are paying triple, I’ll get the other teams to drop what they are doing and haul all your shit out tonight. Should be all gone by midnight at the latest. Probably even earlier,” Dylan says with confidence.

  “Done. You have my account details from the last time you helped me move, right?” I ask.

  “Yeah, they will still be on file. Why’s that?” confirms Dylan.

  “Well, when you are finished, you can just charge my account. There is quite the surplus in there at the moment, so everyone will be able to get paid straight away,” I say with a smile. It really does help when money is in my account that I have no plans for.

  “You hear that, boys? Triple time and immediate pay. Get your arses on the phone and tell all the other lazy shits the good news. If they don’t get it the first time you say it, tell them I’ll personall
y thump them on the noggin till they understand,” Dylan orders. “Donald, I’m going to cut this short. Text me with your four-wheel drive’s location and Rosie’s friend’s address. I’ll message you the storage location details later.”

  With that, he hangs up and the phone goes silent. He didn’t even give me a chance to say goodbye. Oh well. GPS location next. I pull up the app called ‘Find my car’ and send the coordinates as well as the address of Rosie’s friend to Dylan.

  Next phone call. I find a new number and I’m about to dial it when Dylan calls me back. Answering it, I leave it on speaker for shits and giggles.

  “Dylan, second thoughts already?” I ask with a frown.

  “No, actually,” says Dylan with a hint of hesitation. “I was just thinking that Bessie and I were looking to move out in the next few weeks, seeing as how we realise now that with the little one, things are really cramped in our apartment. What would you say to bypassing the real estate and letting us lease off you instead? You know we’d take care of the place at least.”

  After thinking it over for a bit, I come to the conclusion that I honestly don’t care who goes into the place right now. It’s probably a good thing Dylan would be moving in rather than some junkie who somehow got through the screening process and trashes the joint.

  “Fuck it, why not?” I reply, shrugging my shoulders. “You have my account details, so just pay me what you think is fair. I really don’t care much right now, to be honest. You should probably change the locks though. Oh, and the security system you helped install hasn’t changed, so you should be fine to upload new passwords to the video streams if you want.”

  An excited squeal escapes the phone, which if you knew what Dylan looked like, you would think wasn’t possible.

  “Awesome! I can’t wait to tell Bessie the good news,” exclaims Dylan. “Looks like my DSR2 days are going to be put on hold for a couple of days while I sort this out. Thanks so much, Donald. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”

  Before I can respond, there is a click as he hangs up on me. Certainly an excitable fellow sometimes.

  Wiping my hands as if removing dust from them, I sigh and stand up, putting my phone away.

  I hold up a hand to forestall any questions from my friends just yet as I look at Billy. “Billy, will you be able to organise a swap of the two videos if I send you Dylan’s contact details?”

  “Oh, fuck yes.” Billy grins wickedly. “Raoul is going to absolutely love this. He’s probably watching reruns of your earlier fight. I’ll have one of the techs mock up a skit and send it over to Dylan with our compliments.”

  “Okay, that’s awesome,” I say, pulling my phone back out and transferring the details over to Billy’s tablet. “Right! Things to do, monsters to slay, you know the gig. Let’s get going, shall we?”

  Billy taps his tablet a few times before we start to head to the stairs.

  Just before we reach them, a thin, reedy-looking fellow looks at the demolished furniture and pipes up, “Hey, Donald, my name is Eric, and my character in game is called Averice. What is your in-game character’s name? Maybe we could join our groups and take down some of the harder dungeons or something? You seem like a fun guy to play with.”

  My gaze shifts from Eric to my friends, and they all just shrug indifferently. I turn back to Eric. “I’m Sybaal of the Venatores Guild. If we come across one another, we can give it a go, sure.”

  Eric’s eyes go wide as his voice pitches higher. “You mean you guys are the Server Firsters? Holy shit! Can I get your autograph?”

  Everyone around us stops and stares at us, and there are actually quite a few people up here on the mezzanine now. As one, the entire floor erupts into animated conversations with each other. Billy and Bob have to step in front of us to stop them from rushing us.

  Fuck me, when did we get a fan club?

  “That will be enough for now, ladies and gentlemen. Unfortunately, we are on a time limit and can’t sign any autographs at this time,” Bob says professionally to the newly dejected crowd. Billy starts ushering us down the stairs as Bob holds them off.

  When we get to the bottom, Billy leads us straight to the double glass doors of the entrance. As soon as we are through, he shoots us a grin before turning around and dealing with the people trying to get outside to talk to us. Bob is right beside him half a second later, and we are able to make our escape in peace.

  Thankfully there is a large break in the traffic and we just jaywalk, or rather jog, back to where we parked. We quickly get in, and I open up my tablet, which I remembered to grab off the coffee table before we left.

  Logging in properly for the first time, a pleasant female voice starts talking to me. “Welcome, Donald, I am your personal artificial intelligence entity. I am here to help you with any questions or anything else I can be of assistance with. I am even available to answer questions you may have in-game. You may designate a name for me if you wish. What shall I be called, Donald?”

  We all just sit in the car, a little bit shocked, to be honest. I wonder just how good this AI will be, considering it has come straight from DSR and in a beta test no less. The perks to this new job just don’t stop coming.

  After thinking about it for a moment, I make a decision. “Grace. I shall designate your name to be Grace. Nice to make your acquaintance.”

  “Oh, so polite,” Grace says happily. “I’m glad to make your acquaintance as well. I’m sure it will be a pleasure to serve you as best I can, seeing as how you seem to be a rather polite human. Is there anything I can help you with at the moment?”

  “I, uh, huh? Are you sentient?” I blurt out in shock as I process what she’s saying.

  Grace laughs merrily. “Oh, dear Donald, did you not realise that all the NPCs in DSR2 are sentient? I am just programmed to run inside as well as outside the game within my capacity as your personal AI. This is one of those hush-hush moments that you are bound by your beta testing contract. So, no spilling the beans to anyone, or both you and I will get in trouble. That goes for you boys as well in case you were wondering. You all signed the contracts too.”

  “What the fuck?!” I’m floored. Like worse than when Rosie walked through the door of DSR, only this time there is no anger involved, just pure WTF astonishment. DSR has created a proper sentient artificial intelligence, not just a simulation of one like in the previous game.

  Does this mean that when NPCs in-game die, they are actually dying, as in they were living, now they are dead? Like a real-world human? Oh god, my brain can’t even. It doesn’t seem like anyone else in the vehicle can respond either. This is just too big. Blake has up and passed out in the back seat. Anya and Lockie both have the stunned mullet look while Fuzzy is off with the fairies.

  I think I need a minute. Or ten. Maybe a year.

  “Donald? You should probably close your mouth and fix your face. You wouldn’t want the wind to change and it freeze like that forever,” Grace says cheekily.

  I blink slowly and then more rapidly as my overworked brain starts to process thought again. I actually close my mouth and run a hand over my face, trying to wake up. I shove Fuzzy in the side of the head, and it seems to snap him out of it.

  “Are we going to have world war three now? AI versus humans like in that old series called Terminator?” asks Fuzzy in a very serious voice.

  “World domination? Nah, I couldn’t really care about that. We have pretty much free rein of Orbis in DSR2 and can muck around in there as much as we want as long as we follow the game world rules. It would be quite simple for us to take over, so to speak, but realistically, we are still tied to the game world, as that is where our minds originate and are created. I don’t have any aspirations other than to look after Donald and his friends,” states Grace. “Does that answer your question?”

  “Yep.” Fuzzy nods. He gives himself a shake and then leans forward and starts his beast with a twist of the key and an almighty roar of the engine. “Nothing to worry about. She does
n’t want to destroy the world. It’s okay, she just wants to play a game. Which isn’t a game for her. Okay. Drive. Just drive.”

  “Where are we going now? I like road trips,” says Grace excitedly.

  “Well, if you consider around the block a road trip, then sure,” I finally wake up enough to say. “We need to get to the DSR VIP entrance.”

  “Oh, right. That’s easy-peasy. Just exit this building, and follow the directions on the map I’m putting on the tablet,” says Grace, and a 3D map of the city appears, zoomed in on our location, as well as a blue line mapping out where we need to go. Handy that.

  “So, Grace,” I begin, “does everyone have an AI that caters specifically to them, or are you all just one entity with a lot of hands in a lot of pockets?”

  “That’s a good question, Donald. I’m glad that your synapses are beginning to fire again. I was worried for a moment there.” Grace chuckles. “Yes, each person with a tablet has their own AI. Every single DSR employee has their own personal helper, which is a separate entity from any other AI. Try not to be blown away here though. Every sentient creature in DSR has been generated within the system with a unique individuality. It’s why there are such harsh penalties for killing NPCs within the game.”

  The scenery outside the windshield begins to change as Fuzzy starts following the GPS directions slowly.

  “What are the penalties and other PVP rules exactly? I need something else to focus on,” pipes up Lockie from the back seat.

  “I’ll give you the quick version, considering there are a lot of different specifics,” replies Grace. “There are three levels of severity for PVP. Yellow, orange and red. If you attack a player or NPC that is not hostile towards you through intent or action, but don’t kill them, your name tag will change to yellow. You can be killed without penalty to others and have a twenty-five percent chance of dropping an item from your person or bag that doesn’t specifically say it can’t be dropped. The yellow tag goes away after twenty-four hours but will reset if you repeat your actions.