by Mars Dorian
I basically abused the vertical/horizontal slash function as it remained the only active battle skill I accessed.
In the middle of the grinding, I took a look at the real-world, Colorado’s Mountain Standard Time, and almost tripped on my spit. The digital digits showed me 5:42 pm, which meant I had spent almost six hours in Fourlando. Damn. I finally reached class creation, but I was too tired to choose. Since I didn’t want to rush and pick the wrong class, I saved the game progress and logged off. Swapped the wonderful and dangerous world of Fourlando for the miserable and bland world of reality.
Back in my living room, the cramped kingdom, I undressed the VR pieces, stretched my limbs and wiped my eyes. Walked into the living room and noticed giggling going on. Shaina and a couple of her friends lay on the couch enjoying a girl night. The screen showed a cringe worthy boy-meet-girl show and played some annoying pop music. Mom wasn’t home, which meant I had to act as the replacement parent now. The last thing I wanted to do was fight with my troubled sister, but I feared my mother’s scolding.
“What’s up?” one of Shaina's friends said, looking up at me with feigned interest.
“Level Five, class selection,” I said.
Invisible question marks popped over her head. She didn’t get the memo. Only Shaina rolled her eyes. “My brother plays this stupid VR game where you kill monsters and save princesses.”
The left short-haired girl grinned. “How old-school.”
“Well, you don’t really save princesses, the story’s a bit more complex than that. And you not only slay monsters, but make difficult moral decisions as well.”
I stopped before more explanations tumbled over my lips.
The dark-skinned girl with the red streaks in her hair pushed herself into the conversation. “How old are you?”
Here I was, standing in front of three giggling teenage girls, and I felt more fear than facing a brood mother and her critter army.
“Twenty-five,” Shaina said with a smug grin.
More giggling unleashed. The girl with the red streaks pounded me again. “So, are you planning to live at home for the rest of your life?”
Every question ignited another round of giggling. The last thing on my plan today was dealing with rebellious teenager girls, so I changed gears and went authoritarian mode.
“Shaina, you’re not supposed to have friends over, remember?”
“Thanks, Mom.”
Another round of chuckling. Aeons, help me out here. I had just spent half a day in Fourlando and barely leveled up, and it looked like I was making even less progress in the real world. “Shaina, save us both a load of trouble and follow Mom’s advice for a change. She’s working her butt off to provide for us. You don’t want to stress her out even more, do you?”
She focused on the screen and pretended I didn’t exist, and so did her friends-in-crime, although their condescending smiles lingered on. I wasn’t having any of this, so I placed myself in front of the screen and switched it off.
“Last chance, Shaina. Don’t make me angry.”
Wrong phrasing, because now she launched with twice the attitude. “Or what? Are you gonna hit me with your magic light sabers?”
Her friends cracked up yet again. My tolerance dwindled. “Maybe I should call one of your druggies. You know, Mr. Badass boyfriend. What’s his name again? JD?”
Shaina's smirk vanished for the first time. Even her girlfriends shut up for once which showed me I was winning the social game.
“Why are you so mean?” she said.
“I just want to make sure this place is in order when Mom gets home.”
“No, you just want to play your stupid game. Don’t pretend like you care.”
The mood ran down the gutter. Shaina's friends fumbled with the cushions of the coach and avoided eye contact with me. The girl with the red streaks stood up first.
“It’s okay, Shaina, we’ll call you.”
The two friends passed me by with condescending glances and exited through the front porch door. Finally. I waited until the two reached the road and turned back to Shaina, who crossed her legs on the couch while pursing her lips. If eyes could emit lasers, she would have burned my brains.
“You’re an ass.”
“And you know you’re not supposed to have friends over. Why doesn’t that get into your brain?”
She hissed. “At least I have friends, like, real friends.”
“Druggies, wow, I’m impressed.”
“Why the hell do you even care? Aren’t you busy jerking off to your animated Japanese girls anyways?”
“I’m not—“
Every attempt at justification was futile. Shaina launched from the couch, marched across the floor, and slammed her room’s door shut.
I remained on the spot and sighed. Granted, this wasn’t the smoothest way of solving the issue, but I was too exhausted to use eloquence. Besides, Shaina and her friend’s condescending remarks asked for it. Seriously, a fifteen year old girl shouldn’t be high maintenance like a freaking newborn.
A beep beep broke the silence. I turned the wristband toward me and checked the display—a VIP message flickered in my inbox. I opened the contents and moaned.
20
The red numbers of my bank account glowed like the flickering hit points bar in the game.
Red meant dead.
The funny thing—I actually liked numbers.
Level ups, stats, skill points, you got me. But when they turned against me in the form of warnings, the love faded. The bank account update showed me the misery of my financial existence. To be frank, a foolish part of me had tuned out the financial distress. I thought, hey, I was living with my mom and shared the cost for food, but even a low overhead burned through resources. The bank account message threw my mood into the abyss, and it didn’t help that mother came home with a worn-out face. The second she passed the door, her eyes targeted me.
“Where’s Shaina?”
“In her room.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, she just slammed the door shut.”
Her tired eyes squinted. She looked like she was coming up with a response, but her facial muscles relented. I put up my defense. “You told me to watch over her, and I did.”
Mom launched on me like a hunter. Instead of using mechanized axes, she shot me a look that melted my mental defenses. A dangerous skill she had perfected for the last two decades.
“Have you been playing that stupid VR game all day?”
The dreaded question that was bound to show up.
“I did play a little bit.”
“For long?”
“Didn’t really count…”
Mom marched into my room and picked up the VR set. “Have you sent any applications over the past weeks?”
“Of course.”
She treated the VR set like a dead raccoon. A nasty, smelly road kill she was hell-bent on trashing into the nearest bin. “I really should throw this toy away. You’re not twelve anymore.”
“I’m actually—“
—training hard to attract sponsorship. It’s what I wanted to say, but with Mom hating the concept of VR gaming, telling her about the financial rewards would escalate this situation. “You can try out it and see how it works, Mom. I’ll help you.”
She tossed the VR set to the table where the computer stood and averted her eyes. “I’ve just had an eight hour shift behind me. Eight hours of hearing complaints and trying to appease customers when I desperately needed sleep.”
Her head tilted toward the ground, as if gravity was trying to drag her through the floor. Mother was one of the hardest working persons I knew.
“I know times are tough, but I’m really trying to my best here, Dashiell.”
“Okay.”
An empty word, but I had nothing else to say. Nothing else to offer for condolence.
Mom continued. “We have to work as a team, where everyone has to do their part, but apparently, you and you
r sister have more important things to do.”
I swallowed. It hurt to see her like that, robbed of passion and spirit. I couldn’t blame anyone but myself.
“I’ll find away, Mom, I always do.”
She trudged to the kitchen and took out an orange juice from the fridge on her way to her room. If she cried, I would have too, so I shut my own door and cut myself off from trailer park reality.
My mind ran wild with part-time job offers. But this wasn’t the twentieth century anymore. Not even fast food joints like McDonalds hired workers anymore—AI algorithms and self-service counters ruled their business model. Only high-end restaurants employed human waiters with good pay, but these venues didn’t exist in Colorado’s butt, Pueblo freaking West.
The time rang 6:45 pm. The computer whispered my name, trying to lure me into the game world of Fourlando, but I had to ponder issues. My track record had been a disaster from A to Z. Either I committed the morally wrong choice or got ripped off by a fellow player. I may have graduated to Level 5, but my tactics sucked. I needed input, maybe even from the offline world. My eyes fell to the note taped to the bedside lamp.
“The reasonable man adapts himself to the world, the unreasonable man adapts the world to himself. All progress depends on the unreasonable man.”
I knew it was simplistic to follow life advice from quotes, but they did clarify issues.
My brain cells jump-started with creativity. I swung toward the computer, looked up players who were making decent money, just not as much as Holland Pax, who was probably impossible to reach via calling. No, I looked for players who made a couple grand a month, enough to pay their basic bills. To my surprise, the list counted a lot of entries. A few thousand pro and semi-pro players from the US showed up, which I cut down into sizable pieces. That’s when I remembered Rokkit mentioning a so-called Sparrow, a female pro player from Colorado. Rokkit had asked me whether I had known her. He probably made fun of me, naming some BS fake player who didn’t exist, but my curiosity reigned supreme. I looked up Sparrow, the alleged pro player from Colorado. Lo and behold, I found her data on the web, after cruising through a lot of rubbish. An unofficial bio claimed she lived in Boulder.
Good news.
I wiped my wristband and wondered if I could call her up, just like that. I needed expert advice, but I wanted to avoid harassing pro players who probably had more important quests on their mind. Nevertheless, my curiosity prevailed, and I called Sparrow.
To my surprise, she picked up.
21
“Who is this?”
Her voice was much lower-pitched than I had anticipated. She sounded like the English dub from a popular anime character. Sailor Moon Double Crescent sprang to mind.
“Hey, um, Sparrow, this is Dashiell, or Dash, as people call me in Fourlando. Maybe you’ve heard of me.”
A pause echoed—a long one.
“Why am I supposed to know you?”
I counted that as a positive remark. She probably didn’t know about my moral-failure quests either, which could only work in my favor. “Listen, this may sound super-awkward, but I’m working hard to make money in the Crystal Crusade, well, enough to pay for me and my family. I know thousands of fans probably want to achieve that, but I’ve made it my new life quest.”
I paused to give Sparrow time to answer. The last thing I wanted was to sound like a stalker.
“How did you get my number?”
Annoyance flavored her tone. I wondered whether I had called her at the wrong time, but since I didn’t know her schedule, every call was a potential step on a landmine.
“Well, during a game session, I told a player that I was from Pueblo West in Colorado. The player mentioned your name since we both lived in the same state.”
“I know Pueblo West,” Sparrow said with signs of elation in her voice. “I went to Pueblo West High for a year.”
“No way, me too.”
It was true. I visited that isolated complex for the full four years. Sparrow’s mood seemed to lighten up right away. She even changed her tone. “Okay, so you want to be a pro player. As you said, lots of eager souls want to accomplish that, so keep that in mind. It’s a battlefield for streams and merch out there.”
“I realize that.”
“How much money would you like to make?”
I paused as I thought about it. The ideal number hovered around 5K a month, but I feared sounding ridiculous. Delusions had cost me time and effort before.
“Maybe start with a thousand bucks a month. Enough to pay some rent and food.”
“Well, as you’ve probably realized, the gaming world is quite complex, so I can only give you some basic tips.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
“Which level are you?”
“Five.”
“Splendid. You are finally able to choose your class. Pick one that suits your playing style, and don’t worry about classes that are trending. I believe Holland Pax’ Lancer is still the popular one, but to be honest, every class is pretty evened out at this stage.”
Pause.
“I’m a Stalker, which means I focus on scouting, stealth, and sneaky attacks. I can only carry medium armor, which means I have to find co-players who compensate for that.” She paused to breathe. “Pick a team member you can trust and do quests with simple objectives. Make sure your partner complements your playing style, so when you go ranged, he goes melee, when you choose support, he goes assault. The Crystal Crusade is a game of specialization and tactical micro-management. Solo-playing will only get you killed.”
Boy, she was diving deep. I loved it.
“Try out different skill combos of your class. Don’t worry, you can always respec later. But remember—you can’t change the classes. So think about your job selection according to your preferences—do you play offensive and close-ranged, or long-ranged and passive? Or are you into offensive AND long-ranged play styles? Everything is possible, but refrain from becoming an average Joe. Specialize and let your team partner make up for your weakness.”
“Got it.”
“Set your eyes on the field mission. It’s the first major challenge where you can actually die. When you have mastered the field mission with at least a B minus rank, call me up again. That’s when the real mysterious adventure of Fourlando begins and your destiny unfurls. Thinking about sponsoring before the field mission is wasted time, believe me.”
“Man, your passion for the game is awesome.”
Sparrow laughed. It sounded cute. “As you can tell, I love talking about the game. There’s so much variety and mystery, and the gaming mechanics keep changing. You never know what you’re going to get. And once you gain mastery over your class, the skills become insane.”
I wondered how much insider knowledge she had about the game. I even wondered if she thought about entering the final level, the Violet Lunar sphere in the sky, but I didn’t want to waste her time.
“Thank you so much for the tips… you have no idea how much trouble I had to go through.”
“May the Aeons guide you. It’s tough, but doable. You just need to find your purpose and see every step, even the missteps, as an opportunity. Most players just give up way too early.”
“Sparrow, you’ve been the X-potion to my critical status.”
She laughed. “I’m glad I could help out.”
“No doubt, I know exactly what to do now.”
“Call me when you reach the next step.”
After the call, I swiveled in my chair and thought about the talk. What a terrific gal. Why hadn’t I known about her before? A pro player from Colorado should have been on my watch list, but maybe life was busy distracting me. Truth was, Sparrow reignited my passion for the game and the chances for success.
I washed up, slipped into my PJs, and went to bed early. I read everything I could find about character classes, as well as their strengths and weaknesses until I knocked myself into slumber a few hours later.
Tomorro
w, I’d enter Fourlando with newfound passion and a tactical mindset to own my class selection.
22
Ten hours later, after a resounding sleep, the world of Fourlando welcomed me back. The Academy’s dorm room pixelated around me until its graphics became indistinguishable from reality. I checked my e-scroll and took a deep breath. The moment I had been waiting for was now flickering in front of me. Class selection. No more average, run-of-the-mill character with a few skills every player in the world abided by. I got to choose my digital destiny now. Without wasting another second, I opened the job window. Thanks to my research yesterday, I learned everything about the five main job classes.
Lancer, TechMage, Stalker, Ranger, and WarTech.
Lancers counted as the most popular class, thanks to superstar pro player Holland Pax.
Range: X
Armor: XXXXX
Mobility: XXX
Lancers resembled the elite melee fighters with strong armor and close-range skills. They could carry heavy armor and functioned as a damage dealer or tank, or a mixture of both. The class offered various sub-specializations, such as frontliners, heavy lancers, and so on. A rock-solid unit that was probably the safest choice.
Next came the TechMage who took the role of the energy-based, long-range healer or supporter:
Range: XXXX
Armor: X
Mobility: XXX
This class could summon and rearrange Reepo particles from refined crystals for offensive, defensive, and supportive purposes. L’ocean had selected that class and chose the part of the supportive medic where she conjured various buffs and debuffs. She could only wear light armor and had to avoid frontline battles.
Next came the Stalkers:
Range: X
Armor: XXX
Mobility: XXXX
