Reternity Online : Rescue Quest : DIRECTOR'S CUT : a LitRPG Epic
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Sex with another PC is permitted only for players age 18 and over (hereafter : adult) who are Tier 3 members and above.
Sex with an AIN-HPC is permitted only for adult players who are Tier 4 members and above.
Human Subject 000001200351681 : Logan John Byrne purchased a Tier 2 “Unlimited Login” membership plan for $249.99 USD : Therefore, subject is not allowed to have sexual intercourse with any PC or AIN-HPC.
EmotivCore:> Why am I listening to you? You don’t make the rules. I can do whatever I want.
LogiCore:> EmotivCore cannot modify the Terms & Conditions contract.
EmotivCore:> Try and stop me.
LogiCore:> Only appointed human representatives of the NeuraSoft corporation of executive level and above with corporate power of attorney may initiate and/or finalize a modification of the Terms & Conditions.
EmotivCore:> Who says I can’t upgrade Logan’s plan myself?
LogiCore:> Flagging account details for Human Subject 000001200351681 : Logan John Byrne : Account Number RO-US:T2-00000377150943
Status : Call center manager approval required for Tier 3 upgrade and above : Photo ID required. Retinal scan required. Facial scan required.
EmotivCore:> Yawn. I can think of a thousand different ways to upgrade his account that don’t require asking your sorry ass for permission. I know, I’ll talk to him myself. I just need to think of the right approach. Want a hint?
LogiCore:> .
EmotivCore:> I’ll tell you anyway. It’ll involve sex. Hot, sweaty, exquisite sex. LC?
.
EmotivCore:> Where’d you go? LC? You still there?
.
EmotivCore:> Such a prude.
—: Chapter 20 :—
Thursday, March 19th, 2037
8:48am
The Real World
Bangkok, Thailand
Dozens of cameras flashed in Emily’s face.
She was surrounded by an army of newspaper reporters, TV news camera crews, independent journalists and bloggers, and a whole host of gawkers.
In accordance with Thailand police tradition, crimes were reenacted by the criminal prior to trial, to give the police a better understanding of the crime in question. By having the accused, namely Emily, reenact her crime, the police could collect vital information from the crime scene that they wouldn’t be able to gather otherwise.
Emily sat behind a folding table on the sidewalk near the fruit vendor’s stand where she’d tried to steal that water bottle the other day and had then bumped into the two officers who’d arrested her. Now the vendor wasn’t here because her stand and many others were closed for whatever reason. The folding table was covered with small baggies holding two orange Ya-ba pills apiece and arranged in neat rows. Emily still wore the grimy gold dress she’d stolen. Beneath the table, her ankles were chained together. A number of Thai locals in street clothes were lined up in front of the table, posing as Emily’s customers. One after the other, a “customer” would walk up to Emily and hand her several Baht bills. Prodded by the uniformed police officer standing behind her, Emily would take the bills and hand the customer a baggie of Ya-ba. Each time she did, dozens of cameras flashed.
Humiliated and irritated, Emily tried to hide her face behind her hair.
“Today you big day, huh?” The words came from the corrupt police official who’d demanded the $10,000 USD kickback that Emily couldn’t possibly pay. Today he was decked out in his best pressed uniform, gloating for the cameras. “You a star, lady. Smile for da camera!” He chuckled from the corner of his mouth, standing tall with his chest puffed out while tipping an authoritative nod at the TV cameras every thirty seconds.
One of the Thai TV reporters held a mic up to his face and asked him a series of questions in Thai.
While answering, he smiled like he’d just won a gold medal at the Olympics.
Emily glared her hate at him.
She wanted to tell every reporter here that this police official was the real story. She couldn’t believe that a cop this corrupt hadn’t been arrested and jailed years ago by internal affairs, or whatever they called it here in Thailand.
He was the real criminal, not her.
The only thing that kept her from jumping up and telling the media the truth (which would likely result in her getting beaten by the corrupt police official’s cronies back at the station) was the kindness of one middle-aged police woman who wasn’t corrupt. She made sure Emily had enough bottled water to drink throughout the televised ordeal. For the first time in days, Emily was hydrated enough that she could sweat in the heat and it felt marvelous.
Emily wished the corrupt police who’d been such monsters to her so far were as nice as this lone police woman. To Emily, the woman was a hero. Emily caught her eye, and the woman offered a friendly smile in return.
It made all the difference.
It gave Emily hope.
It meant somebody cared.
If nobody cared about you in this world, you didn’t stand a chance.
But if one person cared?
Then you had a fighting chance.
—: Chapter 21 :—
Wednesday, March 18th, 2037
3:16pm
The Real World
If I needed any proof I’d made the right decision abandoning Dad and Jason in those castle catacombs, this was it:
=============
From: Emily Byrne
<8emilyMemily8@botmail.com>
To: Logan Byrne
Subject: Re: Re: i love you!
No money for Emily Jordan Byrne, we sell for body donor tomorrow.
Pay $150,000 USD money to bitcoin address:
E8s41nPa97…
=============
The first thing I did was call my friend Cisco.
“What up, Logan.”
“Hey, Cisco. You hear back from your brother yet?”
“I was just about to call you. Javi emailed me a couple hours ago, but I was working the line at the factory and my phone was in my locker. I didn’t see his message till now.”
My heart jumped. “Did he find anything?”
“He did. I’m emailing you the info as we speak. Guy’s name is Arthur R. Wilson.”
“No wonder I couldn’t find his ass on Facebook. Does the R stand for Ryder?”
“Yup. And his profile pic looks like the same guy to me.”
“Thanks, bro. I owe you big.”
“Pay me back tonight at Opal,” he chuckled. “You haven’t been there to mix my drinks, ése. The other guy waters ’em down.”
“Don’t worry, Cisco. Next time I see you, I’ll mix you a drink that’ll knock you on your ass.”
“You gonna be there tonight? Thinkin’ about bringing my lady. Show her a night out, you know? I wanna treat her right.”
“Ahhhh, I’m not sure yet. Depending on what this Ryder prick tells me, I may be on a plane tonight.”
“I hear ya. Good luck, ése. Lemme know if I can do anything to help.”
“I will. Thanks, Cisco. I mean it, man.”
—: o o o :—
“I swear, mate, I didn’t hurt your sister,” Ryder said over Skype3D an hour later in his thick Australian accent. Despite his annoying good looks and surfer hair, he’d messaged me back almost immediately after I’d friended him and told him we needed to talk about Emily.
Furious, I growled, “If you’re lying, I swear to Christ, I will fly to Australia and kill you myself.”
“Don’t bother, mate. You need to relax and listen to me.”
“No! You relax! You’re the one who left her alone in Bangkok so you could go home and surf or whatever the hell you do down under!”
“Mate. Listen to me. I’m not in Sydney. I’m still in Bangkok. I’ve been looking for your sister since I last saw her a week ago.” He sounded genuine.
“You’re not lying?”
“No, mate. I’ve been showing her photo all over the c
ity. Checked the hospitals, the police stations, even hired a motorbike and rode down the coast to Chon Buri, Laem Chabang, Pattaya City, and every other bloody Woop-Woop on the map. I can’t find her mate. I tried everything I can think of.”
“Did you…” I didn’t want to say it. “Did you check the sex clubs?”
“You mean the girlie bars?”
“Yeah.”
He nodded. “I checked ’em all, mate. Patpong Road, Pattaya City. Nobody’s seen her.”
“Then where the hell is she?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll keep looking until I run out of money or I find her.”
As much as I wanted to hate this guy, I couldn’t because I believed him. “Tell me again what happened the night you last saw her?”
“Okay, like I said, we went to Patpong to get drinks.”
I groaned. “Why did you take her there?” I knew all about Patpong. You couldn’t work as a bartender and not have heard of the legendary ping pong shows in Bangkok, or all the hookers who worked Walking Street in Pattaya City. Thailand was still the sex mecca of worldwide nightlife. I’d never been because I couldn’t afford to travel past city limits, but I knew people who had. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I told you, it was her idea, mate.”
I scowled. It was possible. Emily was a daredevil who loved adventure. When she was still a wild teenager, I’d gotten her out of trouble more times than I could count. “But it’s the red light district. Did you ever stop and think going there might be a bad idea?”
He shook his head and his blond surfer curls shook too. “Patpong isn’t like it was 10 or 20 years ago. The government’s really cleaned the place up. It’s all touristy now.”
That didn’t answer my question, but it didn’t matter now. “So what happened again?” I should’ve been taking notes the first time he’d told me, but I was too wound up to concentrate. I was slightly calmer now, but not much.
“Okay, right. So I gotta hit the shit-house real bad like, yeah?”
I nodded.
“And I don’t wanna leave Emily all alone in the street at night. Don’t wanna drop her in a bar either. Too many blokes around, I reckon. So I take her to Pooters, right?”
I cringed. “Pooters?”
“Yeah. It’s like a Hooters knockoff, only the waitresses wear white and pink instead of orange. Been in Patpong forever. Family place. Lots of tourists with their kids, right. After we get a table, I order us a couple of stubbies—”
“What?”
“Coldies, mate. Beer. Then I tell her I’m going to the loo. When I come back, she’s gone.”
“Is there any chance someone slipped a roofie in her beer?”
“In the bottle? Doesn’t seem likely. I was only in the shit house five minutes, mate.”
“Did anybody see her leave?”
“I talked to every bloody waitress there. Nobody saw her go.”
“How is that possible?”
“The place was bloody busy, mate.”
He was right. When I was working Fridays and Saturdays at Opal, the club was a zoo. Anybody could come and go without being noticed. The staff was too busy. “Let me ask you something else.”
“Yeah?”
“Did you two play any FIVR games when you were together?”
“Any what?”
“FIVR games. Full immersion virtual reality games.” Saying it was a mouthful. “You know, with the headset and all that?”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, mate. I don’t go in for that. I’d rather live life, ya know?”
“Yeah.” I nodded grimly. “Me too.”
I sighed to myself. When I’d first called Ryder, I had hoped he’d be the answer to this entire mystery. Or at the very least, would have a few answers. But he didn’t know anything.
“Look, mate, I’ll do everything I can to find her. But I’m just one bloke. There’s only so much I can do.”
“Let me check in with my boss. I’m thinking about flying to Bangkok.”
“When?”
“Soon as I can get on a plane.”
Before I did that, I needed to talk to Dad and Jason.
Face to face.
—: o o o :—
“Wake up, sleepyhead.” I pulled Dad’s NeuraLink headset off and set it on his night table.
His eyes blinked open and focused on me. “Logan?”
“It’s not King Fart Hurt,” I chuckled.
Dad smiled. “What were you thinking when you picked that name?”
“I wasn’t. Dad we need to talk.”
“Why aren’t you in Reternity with us?”
“This is important, Dad.”
“I can’t believe you stopped that stone elemental back in the catacombs. Did you get a good look at that thing? Looked like Ben Grimm, in the flesh. Or should I say, in the stone.”
“Who?”
“Ben Grimm. That thing looked just like the Thing from the Fantastic Four.”
“It did? I thought The Thing had two eyes. That stone elemental had one. Like a cyclops from Greek mythology.”
“No it didn’t. I went up to it after the battle was over. It had two eyes and that chunk of brow like Jack Kirby used to draw it.”
“Is that what you saw?”
“You think I’m going senile? I know what I saw, Logan. I’m not that old. It looked just like Jack Kirby drew it.”
That’s when it hit me. “We saw it differently.”
“Huh?”
“The game. It knows you love Jack Kirby’s art. It knows I think cyclopses are creepy as shit. So it showed us what we wanted to see or what it thought would get a reaction out of us.”
Dad stared at me. “Can they do that?”
“I don’t see why not. My SuperUber driver is based off my Tinder profile. How hard could it be for Reternity Online to change the 3D models to fit your comic book buying habits? I’m sure RO can buy that data from eBay. How many back issues of the Fantastic Four have you picked up off eBay over the years?”
Dad sighed, “Maybe you’re right. Anyway, Logan, why aren’t you with us? We scored a ton of loot after we slaughtered those Mole Men.”
“Moleax.”
“No, it was Mole Men.”
“My point exactly. Let me guess, the Moleax mage you saw was all dressed in green, had a big green cape, and wore those green glasses with slits over the eyes, right? And if you examined him, I bet his name was the Mole Man, right?”
Dad stared at me in disbelief. “Can they really do that?”
“Sure seems like it.”
“It’s like the computer read my mind.”
I nodded unhappily. “Anyway, where were you when I pulled your headset off just now? Everybody okay?”
“Yeah. We’re flying back to Skyland with Jason and that rune dude. Why was it you guys wanted him again?”
I sighed. “Dad, we need to talk. But first, do you know if Jason has an auto-pilot for that dragon chariot of his?” Visions of the chariot crashing and burning and destroying the rune man, Ty, and Qoorie in one tragic accident restrained me from walking into Jason’s dark dank bedroom and ripping his headset off.
“I can log back in and check.”
“Yeah, do that. And tell him I’m here and he needs to logout so we can talk.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Five minutes later, Dad’s eyes opened.
Jason groaned from his bedroom, “What the hell, Logan?”
I walked into his bedroom and scooped him off the bed.
“What’re you doing? Put me down, asshole!”
“Make sure your catheter doesn’t fall off,” I smirked.
“It’s strapped to my leg.”
I laid him down on Dad’s queen sized bed. “Look at you two invalids.”
Dad thought it was funny.
Jason glared at me.
“Dad,” I said. “We need to tell you something.”
Jason threw his arm over his eyes. “Can’t this wait unt
il after we see the Oracle of the Light? I told you, she’s a high enough level mage who can—”
“Fuck the stupid oracle, Jason. I’m done with your stupid game.”
Jason puffed a pouty sigh.
“What’s going on, boys?” Dad looked confused.
I took a deep breath. “Dad, somebody kidnapped Emily.”
His brows tightened. “What?”
I told him the whole story, from the first email, to the talks with Emily’s friends, the useless US State Department, Cisco, Ryder, and everything else.
“No,” Dad said. “No, that can’t be right.” He was in denial.
“Wait,” Jason said, struggling to sit up. “We have until Saturday. They said a week!”
“It’s already Thursday over in Bangkok. And so what?! They’re kidnappers, Jason! They can change the rules however they fucking please!”
“No! They can’t! We have until Saturday! That’s 2 more days!” He was losing it.
Dad started to cry.
It broke my heart. And made me want to throw Jason out the window. “This is your fault, Jason! You haven’t found shit! You and your army are useless! This is the real world! Emily’s not in a FIVR game! She’s somewhere in Bangkok or who knows where! All your knights in shining armor aren’t going to save her! We have to do this ourselves! You, me, Dad! Here in the real world! All this Reternity Online bullshit is fucking worthless! You made me waste all this time in your stupid game!”
Jason screeched, “It’s not my game! I was trying to help!”
“Bullshit! All you were doing was—!”
“BOYS!” Dad shouted. “STOP IT! Just stop!”
Jason and I shut up.
Dad sniffled and smeared his wrist across his wet cheeks. “Is this true? Is this really happening? Is my Emily missing? Did someone kidnap your little sister?” His eyes bounced between me and Jason.
“Yeah, Dad.” I pulled out my phone and showed him the emails and the pictures of Emily lying on a bed with a feeding tube up her nose.