Ai’s Hearing
“Hey, it’s time.” Aravennai, the tower guide said.
Ai sighed, rolled out her chair and rose from her desk. “What do you think they’ll do to me?”
Aravennai shrugged. “Sorry. I had to report it, you know that.”
“Yeah.” Ai didn’t meet her eyes as she walked out of her office into the Pura main office area. Since Pura was full to the brim with players, she never thought she'd be found out. And then, Leon came along and pulled Ava out of the Slums and brought her Scab title to the attention of the tower guide, and the game was up.
She looked at the lines of desks in the main room and shook her head. She knew Leon would become a big deal because of how he behaved after his arrival, but that some guides kept watching him even as he slept was going a bit overboard. Some heads turned toward her as she walked past them to the exit.
She gave them a smile and continued walking. Ai stopped at the door leading into the corridor and turned around. One from each department except the tower guide rose from their chairs and walked up to her. Administrative, Statistics, Game research, and Human research.
All four gave her a weak smile, then the group exited the room and walked down the white corridor toward the shuttle pod. They reached it without having said a word, and the door hissed open. They sat down in the chairs, the door closed, and the pod shot off along the tracks. Ai looked out the window, seeing other office spaces flash by, and let herself sink into her thoughts.
Ai had gotten excited about the job when she first got it; she’d studied hard, and finally got a place at the judgment center. After 20 years of doing the same thing, she’d started being glib with some newcomers. Since Pura was one of the first tower cities, the new arrivals had slowed down to a snail's pace once it had reached its quota. That had been fine by her—you could only do the tutorial so many times before she got bored out of her mind, but she had always tried to be professional. Except when it came to Avalene. It had felt good to put her in her place. But of course it had to get reported to the legislative department, eventually. She had meant to remove the title before Leon’s group went into the tower, but… oh well. She’d made a mistake. The thing was that no one cared what she did in the game, as long as it made players stronger in some capacity and didn’t mess too much with a player’s progress. Like she’d done with the Cleric.
Ai saw the white globe close in on them and tried to think through what she was going to say in her defense, again, but all the excuses she’d come up with didn’t want to come to her now. The globe became bigger and bigger, and eventually, the pod entered a door in the structure. A moment later, it came to a complete stop.
The group stepped out into a completely white area with a tiled floor. It took a second for her eyes to adapt to the brightness of it. The corridor continued to the right and the left, with no windows or offices. They stood there for a short while, and then, a door opened in the opposite wall. A tall, male figure wearing a mask stepped out. So they, too, needed to wear shells. It made sense. He motioned for Ai to follow him, and the group obliged.
Instead of returning through the door he arrived from, he led them down the right-hand corridor, and they walked along the bend of the structure. Some offices finally came into view, with enormous windows facing the corridor and double doors leading into each. Each department’s name stood in metal letters above the doors, and Ai saw people sitting at desks and staring at monitors inside. They passed the offices of tower maintenance, tower admins, and finally reached the tutorial management office.
Ai breathed in, then out again.
But then they passed that door as well. She looked over her shoulder at the colleagues following her. They seemed as confused as she was. The masked person in front stopped a few steps ahead, then turned to the inner wall, pressing a hand against it. It opened a black doorway, and he passed through.
Ai hesitated a moment, but then she followed with the rest of her group. They entered a similar corridor to what they’d just left and started walking in the same direction. Ai’s heart thundered as they passed each new office, wondering where she was taken. Game admins, statistics, world-wide game research, world-wide human research, and finally, game implementation. The researchers from Ai’s own office had slowed to look in at their manager’s offices, but quickly caught up to the rest of the group. Ai looked up at the sign for the game implementation office, wondering what awaited her in there.
The man turned to the left-hand wall again, repeated the door opening from before, and stepped inside. Ai grew cold. They couldn’t be serious. Sure, she’d messed around with a player, but to bring her here… She swallowed, took a deep breath, and even though she’d started shaking, she followed the man through the door once again.
The area didn’t have a corridor this time. Instead, there was a huge white cylinder in front of them, with a set of heavy double doors. Over it, she read ‘Legislative Department’. She drew a shaky breath as the doors swung open, and she continued into the black corridor.
They entered a huge aula, which was dimly lit. Right in front of them stood a raised dais enveloped by empty space and with a black wall behind it. It reminded her of a theater scene, but it could hold only five people at most. The man stopped and motioned for Ai’s group to go to the side of where they’d entered, where there were four chairs waiting for them. When Ai tried to follow, the man stopped her. He pointed toward the dais at the front without saying a word. Ai nodded and walked forward, as calmly as she could. When she came there, she walked around it and found stairs leading her up to the platform.
Ai looked at the area she’d entered. Stairs went up along the corridor they’d come out of, and white chairs stood in multiple rows, ending at a white wall that curved into a black ceiling. Most of the chairs stood empty, but she guessed there were at least fifty legislators present, and the five drafted to be the main legislative council today sat in chairs positioned directly at the top of the corridor. When Ai walked up on the platform, she stood high enough to face them directly. A light flashed onto her from the ceiling, with no apparent source. She blinked a few times, but then her eyes adapted. The five from the main council stood, and the middle one spoke with a deep female voice.
“Ai, the tutorial guide for the city Pura, stands before us to receive judgment for her behavior against a player in her appointed city. You all have received the relevant information, so unless there are questions, we will proceed. Who is here to witness this judgment?”
The game researcher from Ai’s office stood up. “Council, we four were drafted to listen to her judgment.” He gestured over the other three. “But before we continue, may I ask why this judgment deserves your attention? Why aren’t we facing this issue in front of tutorial management?”
“Thank you for coming,” the lead councillor said. “You are gathered before us because your guide is the first to commit something like this against a player. Never have we heard of, or considered, that a guide would go to such lengths to settle a personal grudge against a player; a player who had done nothing to deserve that punishment. Does that answer your question?”
“Yes.” The game researcher sat down.
“Then we will proceed.” The legislator turned her head toward Ai again. “Tutorial guide Ai. We are not here to punish players. Can you please describe what we are here to do?”
“We are here to amass…”
“No, guide. What are we here to do for the players?”
“Strengthen them,” she whispered.
The legislator leaned forward, resting her hands on the railing in front of her. “And why do we want them to become stronger?”
“So they can play their role in the final judgment and end the competition, as agreed upon between the Judge and the successors.”
“Precisely.” The councillors sat down. “We never expected that a chosen guide, despite her own personal background, would harm the progress of a player, no matter their personal feelings toward the player’s personality.” The main councillor knit her hands in her lap. “You, in your role, were never intended to give out more than the title that new players get from the tutorial. We didn’t set any boundaries to that because we didn’t think it was needed. That is our fault, but that doesn’t remove you from blame.”
“I intended to remove the title after I made an agreement with another player,” Ai said. “But I couldn’t.”
The legislators looked at each other, both the ones in the chairs and the main council.
“But that is within your control,” a male voice said.
The administrator from Ai’s office stood. “Ever since our tower guide told us what Ai had done, we have tried to find out why our tutorial guide couldn’t remove the title, but our tower guide could.”
“And?” another voice from the council said. “What was your result?”
“We have come up with the theory that Ai couldn’t remove the title because when she put the title on the player, it marked her as a Scab. The system recognizes Scabs as non-players, and since non-players can’t have titles, they can’t have them taken away. However, the tower, since it has its own system, won’t accept non-players to enter. So, when the tower guide noticed that the player had a faulty title, and confirmed that it was a player, she could remove it.”
The council nodded, and several of the other legislators did too.
The administrator continued. “We think she could pass through the arch from the poorest area of Belows to the poor area because a player’s essence is what counts, but the system didn't ever change from seeing the player as a non-player.”
The council sat quiet for a short while. Then, the most left one spoke. “I have sent the error report to game implementation.”
The center one spoke. “This case doesn’t have to do with if the intent was to remove the title or not; it is about the title being put there at all. Now, we’ve read a little of the report on this player, and from what we can tell, she seems to have a strong will to get back to her world. Is this correct?”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Ai swallowed. “That is correct.”
“You realize, then, that this puts you in a disadvantageous position?”
Ai closed her eyes. She had wondered if this would be the outcome, and now, it definitely seemed headed that way. She’d need to grovel to get her job back with the family who caused her to do this in the first place. “Yes.”
One from Ai’s group stood up and turned to face the councillors. “Due to another player’s actions, we paid extra attention to the player in question.” She folded her hands in front of her. “Would the legislators want to hear of our findings?”
The council looked at each other, then one spoke. “If it’s relevant to the question at hand, go ahead.”
“This player is a Cleric, given that role through the actions in her life before she arrived to play for us.”
“As all players are.” A council member opened a hand and stretched it toward her. “You are one from Pura’s human research department?”
“Correct. It was unjust for this player to receive the title, as she is a player who should be given the same chances to grow as the rest. That said, she is a very interesting player that only came to our attention because of this. She moves around the world in a very calculated way, making her a very interesting specimen to study.”
“Make your point.”
“This player made some interesting choices after receiving the title, giving us the opportunity to study her in an environment where she couldn’t make use of the skills she built in her life. That made her even more determined to raise her ranks, and made her more motivated to climb the tower, and to find people willing to do her bidding.” The researcher smiled. “It will be even more interesting to follow her now that she’s going to make her choice.”
“Do you know what she’s going to choose?”
“It’s almost certain that she will choose Nether.”
“Hm. Would she have made that choice if she hadn’t received the title?”
“That is unclear, but extremely likely, considering her past and current actions. We thought it might change due to the other player’s interference, but it she’s still heading down that path.”
The councillors leaned back and discussed quietly with each other. Then they rose as one.
“Ai, Pura’s tutorial guide. Do you have anything to add?”
Ai shook her head. “No.” It was out there, plain and simple. And there was no going back.
“The judgment for your action of giving a player a title working to their detriment is as follows. You are issued a warning. In addition, you will live in Pura for one month as one of its citizens, as requested by the human researcher on the council today. You will receive further instructions when it’s time.”
The councillor continued, “Be glad that other guides think she’s going to choose Nether’s side, or this issue might have scaled to the Judge. I hope you have learned something from your mistake.”
Ai frowned. “But what if there are new players drafted to come to Pura? I need to be there for them.”
The council member leaned forward. “You haven’t visited Pura for a few days. The rain season has started, so your services won’t be of use.”
Ai nodded. It was better than getting fired. But to live there for a month? And why? She racked her brain. Actually, this could be a good thing. “If the council agrees, I have a request I would like to make.”
“You have proved yourself to be…” a council member started, but another stopped him.
“What is your request?”
Ai looked at the man who had asked the question. That must be the human researcher. She recognized one of her own. “There’s this player in Pura who is still at the beginning of his journey. His actions are sending waves throughout Belows, and will probably continue to do so in Bellwater. This player seems to inspire people, and I would…” She cleared her throat. “I think he would make for interesting research. Much more than any other player I’ve seen.”
The man spoke again. “What has the player done that’s so noteworthy that we should study him?”
Ai’s smile widened. “He’s changed the game.”
The human researcher from Ai’s group stood up again and faced the council. “Let me explain what she means, because I agree.”
“You know of this player?” the councillor asked.
“Yes. We all do.” She gestured over the other guides. “He has a determination unlike anyone we’ve seen before, and, as Ai said, he inspires people.”
The other councillors leaned back in their chairs, letting the human researcher speak for them. “Determination is something we see in many players. What does he do to inspire people?”
The human researcher stepped toward them. “A lot. But what inspires people the most is that he pushes to get status points even after he’s been fighting until exhaustion.”
“That isn’t unheard of,” the councillor said. “But as with all players, they will stop when they realize they will only gain experience by fighting beasts. Facing that is needed for progression.”
“Except this player hasn’t stopped. He has continued running for over two months and has tried everything to become stronger. He pushed himself to become better, getting no real recognition for his work.” She swallowed. “So… after a month had passed, we talked with Pura’s administrative department and… Well…”
The man from Pura’s administration stood. “We gave this player a point in agility.”
The other councillors and several legislators shot to their feet.
“You did what?” the council researcher asked.
“We wanted to see what the effects would be,” the administrator said. “And we need to remember our goal. It is to make players stronger. If players try to get stronger, but it doesn’t work after a time, they usually give up. This player didn’t. And even this one measly point lit a fire that spread. Other players who had stopped trying to become stronger have now decided to try again.”
“The point is to make players stronger in a fair way,” another councillor said. “Otherwise it would skew the competition. And would this player have continued without the point he received?”
“It’s very likely,” Ai said. “We also don’t know which side this player will choose. He could go to either side.” Though true, she suspected what he would choose, even though the choice would be hard for him to make.
“While what Ai said is true,” Pura’s human researcher said, “there’s also the question of why we don’t reward people for doing their best to become stronger. Most don’t have the determination to try as hard as this player has, and Pura’s whole department decided to see where this would lead. We made a unanimous decision about it and have sent the report to you.”
The other councillors looked at the lead human researcher among them. His eyes were closed.
“Ah, yes,” he finally said. “I see it.” He was quiet for a while longer. “And the statistics group’s report, too.” A bit longer. “Very interesting.”
“What does the statistic say?” one of the non-council legislators asked, rising.
“The results are clear. Through the actions of the department to award this player one point in agility, and later a point in strength, this player has caused a trend to appear, where thirty-two other players have started training, some of which have been idle for over ten years, and a majority of which have been idle for over five. The conclusion of the report also states that this trend has the potential to spread rapidly, if given the chance.”
“That’s possible?” a legislator in the chairs said.
“Well, we all know that it’s been a point of contention that players seem to give up when they don’t see immediate results,” another said. “Finding worthy players is taking quite long.”
“It’s not so bad, actually—both sides could benefit from it, so there’s a reasonable chance that this will make things move along and stay fair. If they can get some points this way, it might give them the confidence to start fighting, as they should.”
“We have seen nothing like that required in the games we studied prior to the start, though.”
“Has this player come up with a way for others to get more motivated to climb as well?”
“I’d like to study this player, too.”
The councillors rose and turned toward the legislators in the chairs. The center one spoke. “We hear your comments and opinions. Since this seems to be a matter that could benefit the players greatly,” she turned to look at Pura’s administrator, “though not discovered through the means we would have liked,” she turned back, “we will compose a motion for the Judge to decide on. Anyone with suggestions on what this motion should cover should deliver a report supporting how this suggestion could be implemented fairly for both sides. Should this motion pass, make sure your teams know that they will have a lot to do. You will need to go through all players’ recordings and give out each player’s respective points according to the new guidelines. The research work can be started now, so the players will receive any earned points as soon as possible should the motion pass.”
“What about Leon’s points?” Ai asked.
The councillors turned to her. “Is that the player you spoke of?”
“Yes.”
“He will keep his points for now. If the motion fails, he will lose them. But for now, he will make a good case study, and you will study him, in person, as requested.” The center council member turned to Pura’s group. “No more points will be given to players without the legislation backing the decision to do so.”
“What about the Cleric’s points?” the administration guide asked. “The ones she missed out on because of the title?”
The councillor sighed. “Yes, that’s the only exception. Calculate her loss and give her the status points. The judgment of Ai, Pura’s tutorial guide, has now concluded. Return to your offices.”
Ai walked down the stairs and to the corridor where they entered. The same masked man who led them here gathered the other department members, and they stood beside Ai. The man motioned for them all to follow.
“Maybe I should suggest a section in the school where students can pay their debts by becoming research subjects? Debts seem to be a driving factor for some players,” a voice said above her in the chairs.
“They’d have to be interesting to study for that, and wouldn’t that give an unfair advantage to some players?” another answered.
“The only fairness needed is what will affect Nether and Upper,” the voice replied. “Not the players directly.”
She’d been in hot water for a second, but once the conversation turned to Leon and her department’s obsession with him, they had almost forgotten she existed up there on the dais, and that the meeting was held to judge her. Now they would have something else to focus on rather than her misstep, and even though she didn’t look forward to spending a month in Pura, she’d spend it with Leon’s group. That was definitely something. He’d intrigued her, but differently than the rest of the department. She wanted to know what made him tick, what made him make the choices he made.
After so many tutorials, she’d seen so many types of personalities, and she’d initially thought he was one of those who would rage at the game when they realized they needed to work for what they got. But he’d surprised her, and he’d shown a kindness she’d only seen in some Clerics. Sure, some players did have kindness when they arrived, but once they rose in levels, that kindness was sucked from them as they realized how cruel both this world and its inhabitants could be. She looked forward to seeing his fall up close, because if that wouldn’t break him, nothing would. And that was interesting.
“Hey,” the statistics guide said, “that could have gone worse.”
“For all of us,” the game researcher said. “I got nervous about how they reacted to the points we gave.”
“I really hope it works out,” the administration guide said. He stepped closer to Ai. “Hey, when you meet Leon again, could you explain to him why he got the points? Just in case the motion doesn’t go through?”
Ai chuckled. “So he won’t blame you if they disappear?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not sure,” Ai said. “I’m on thin ice, as they say, and I don’t know if I’m allowed to.”
“You’re right. We’ll need to look that up.”
Ai looked at him from the corner of her eyes. She wished that her department didn’t need to be here for the judgment. With Leon’s growing fan base in the office, she suspected that the administrator’s request wouldn’t be the only one coming when the others got to know that she’d been sentenced to tail him. She’d have a lot of work to do.
“I have an idea for what could motivate players,” the human researcher said. Ai looked over her shoulder at her. The researcher grabbed the game researcher’s arm. “I might need your help to do it, though, and Leon’s the perfect player to try it on.”
“It won’t break the rules, will it?” he asked. “We’re probably going to be watched for a time.”
“It won’t, as far as I know. This is what I’m thinking—if the players who have completed the first level would get a reminder of what they saw, but we mix it differently. Maybe all they need to push themselves is to see it from a different perspective?”
“But Leon is one of those players who is already driven by the motivation they got in the first level,” Ai said as they continued into the white corridor. “I don’t know if it will be of any use testing something like that on him.”
The human researcher smiled. “But that’s the point. If the experiment fails, it won’t affect him as much as it would others, because he’s already so determined. Besides, he’s become somewhat of a test subject for all of us. Not only because of the points we gave him.”
Ai nodded. The researcher made a valid point, but that didn’t mean she felt happy about it. She would have been more content if Leon had just stayed out of the limelight so she could do the experiments she was interested in. But since Ai was a human researcher at heart, she couldn’t blame them for finding interest in a player who wouldn’t allow himself to stagnate or settle. Who proved that he could change what even the legislative department and the Judge couldn’t figure out how to do. She just hoped that their experiment wouldn’t affect her own.