“It's Nathaniel,” the angel corrected without batting an eyelid, his mood ever buoyant.

Carl just stared at him, beaming like a proud child.

“You're quite something, Charles Lionheart,” the divine official admitted earnestly.

“Sooo … can I take a quick bath?”

Nathaniel smiled.

“Aren't you looking down on the blessings of the Heavens a little?” he asked with a tinge of admonishment.

“Oh well. Can I ask a few questions, then?”

“What's on your mind, young immortal?”

“For one, this title badge of mine. It doesn't possess some hidden magic, does it?”

“No.” The angel chuckled. “It is but a symbol of recognition. But do not underestimate its power, as the benefits it can bring you may be very unexpected.”

“I know, I know,” Carl conceded, slightly disappointed nonetheless. “I've already experienced a bit of them.”

“And what about your daring escapades? Is there anything that troubles you?”

Naturally, Drew Bailey was merely trying to pluck from Carl any relevant data on full realism he could for the company. But he forgot who he was dealing with …

“Hmm. I realize you can't tell me how to attain more honors or how many are there, but I've noticed some knowledgeable natives react to them. So I assume there are hints scattered in the lore, which could lead me on the right track?”

Nathaniel hesitated.

“Awesome! But are they already present in the fragmented lore of the tutorial?”

“Are you kidding me?!”

“Mhm, as I thought. I'll have to do some research.”

“Alright. Since you have no more concerns–”

“No-no! There's an important issue that touches on balance!” Carl hastily interjected. “While working towards Pain Freak, I saw my willpower shoot up. Isn't it a little too easy? Or are there ways to hack the other attributes as well? I mean, I could just start the game with 5 willpower, automatically pick up Pain Enthusiast for free after reaching 10, and then hit 25 in a flash and unlock Pain Freak …” Carl sneakily investigated, trying to gauge the official's reactions.

Nathaniel scowled.

“Of course he has already realized, why wouldn't he?”

The boss was too adamant on this point. He even disregarded warnings that this would prompt players to expose themselves to inordinate amounts of pain in order to get ahead, and could spark disastrous controversies if they suffered lasting health damage as a result. He defended his decision with the obvious fact that there would be no more restoration in the arena once the full version went live, organically limiting the options to inflict harm upon oneself. But this guy …

… he had already attained Unyielding Will! That wasn't supposed to happen!

Drew sweated. This was above his pay grade. He would have to tell the boss.

“You can indeed make it to 25 willpower by pain exposure, but after that it will get much harder. There are also ways to quickly boost all other attributes to their peak values, that is 250%, but they're not as straightforward and readily available. You will have to invest a lot of effort and resources to reach that level. There's a reason all the basic races have nominal willpower set to 10. We made this game specifically for full-realism players, so we had to allow them an uncomplicated way of gaining full control over their virtual bodies. It's only fair–”

Drew faltered abruptly and bit his tongue. Unwittingly, he just broke character …

“This guy is killing me!”

“Oh, so willpower is an exception … shame,” Carl continued blithely.

Nathaniel sighed dejectedly.

“So how do you like your new announcer?”

Carl recoiled and raised his brows.

“You haven't restarted yet, have you? Ask the system to reset your announcer pack,” the official advised blandly.

Carl was positively shocked.

“System, reset my announcer pack!”

“A pending announcer pack change is awaiting your authorization,” the distasteful coquette informed, before her timbre took a radical turn. “This is a sample of my new voice. Would you like to accept the changes?”

Carl rejoiced.

“There's my noble Valkyrie!”

“Approved!” He gave double thumbs up to Nathaniel, grinning with glee. He couldn't believe they actually listened to his personal request.

“It's a limited option we implemented for attaining the highest honors. We also gave all players a choice to switch to a neutral announcer, should they wish it. Now, for your Heavenly Favor, you can choose a service to be discounted by 50%,” the divine official put forth in a more solemn tone. Clearly, Unyielding Will wasn't so legendary. Epic maybe?

“I don't suppose I can choose that one again, can I? It would be too good to be true,” Carl commented offhandedly.

“…”

“Hmm? I can?”

“I'll be right back!”

“Hey! Wait! Are you …” Carl balked, seeing the angel disappear. “… Serious?”

…

“Boss? Are you busy?”

“Could you not ask rhetorical questions, Bailey?” Ignacio asked from behind his desk. He never stopped coordinating his entire forces with the other departments of the tech giant, putting out fires left and right. The money involved was predicted to represent the gross domestic product of an average country, after all.

“Boss … he has attained Unyielding Will …”

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

“I know,” Ignacio acknowledged flatly.

“Without Pain Freak …”

“I know,” the director emphasized.

“Then you also know what he's gonna do once the full version goes live, right?”

“Let him. He's an old man lying on his death bed. If that's how he wants to go out, we can only respect his will,” Ignacio dismissed with a wave of his hand.

“Old? Doesn't seem that old to me …”

“Is that all?”

“No …”

“Out with it.”

“He wants another discount on Beatific Restoration. Did we forget to preclude stacking?”

“No, it's a feature. Are you making him wait?”

“I– … but … he's already digging! A couple more honors, and he will get full restoration basically for free …”

Ignacio grinned mischievously.

“Only if he can make it back alive.”

…

Placing the platter with deliciously fat cutlets on his chest, Carl took a good bite and put his helmet back on. Nathaniel hadn't returned yet, so he closed his eyes, focused on his real body, and chewed. Before long, he realized his avatar was mimicking his actions, only stopping when he concentrated really hard on multitasking. This was so counter-intuitive!

Ecstatic to have his Beatific Restoration discounted to 50 Gold Crowns, Carl paid the upfront fee of 8 gold for a resting spot at the sanctuary, despite planning to return before the blessing got maxed out. The requirement of paying for 8 hours at once was enforced to discourage the players from rationing their rest, and instead go for a healthy amount of sleep.

It was 13:30 when Carl finally jumped under his bed sheets, his body sore and weary from lying for nearly a day. A good quality VR cabin at least had massage and air cushions, while the better ones would even rotate in all planes of motion to prevent bedsores, having stabilization frames to keep the body safely immobilized. If only he had the funds to buy one …

Carl was hurting all over when the alarm rang. He didn't expect the situation to be this bad – that last stunt at the arena must have really done a number on his physiology. Groaning, he instinctively reached for his phone, which he set to wake him up at 19:30, then tapped and scrolled it to quiet the ringing.

“Hello Carl, how are you today?”

“Huh?! It's 14:03 … give me a break …”

“Mr Burri? Hello … what's up?” Carl answered the call with a deplorable, groggy voice.

“You don't sound well,” the court officer observed worriedly. “I've been informed you didn't go to school. Are you sick?”

“No … I'm fine. I just … had an intense weekend, is all.”

“… Were you drinking?”

“Haha, good one, Mr Burri. No … I was working late.”

“You have a job? You didn't tell me that. What kind?”

“Remote. It's a great opportunity for me.”

“… You're playing games again, aren't you?”

“Heh, got me there. I can't bury my talents, you know.”

The man exhaled loudly into the microphone.

“Is it really worth it?”

“You have no idea, Mr Burri,” Carl mustered up some energy to convey the gravity of his excuse, eliciting another sigh.

“I know you don't want my preaching, but … don't neglect your education, okay? It's important. You might not yet understand how much.”

“I'm aware, and I won't. Thank you, Mr Burri.”

Turning off his phone, Carl once more fell into the blissful embrace of deep slumber. While he dreamed, the world buzzed. He wasn't the only superstar to suddenly rise into prominence. Far from it.

Even in Europe, mysterious experts were springing up like mushrooms all over the place. Some went on unending killing streaks in the arena, generously opening up their lobbies to allow spectators. Others were rumored to be stronger still, but they diligently hid their cards from the public eye, and were only recognized for some of their herculean exploits.

What more Asia? Guilds and adventuring associations there were so massive, that they had thousands of Gold Crowns at their disposal. With social status being so important in these cultures, it was common for magnates, tycoons, and their young heirs to invest heavily into whatever piqued their fancy. These people could afford the best gear, they'd hire instructors and managers, and they would lead their legions in pursuit of fame and celebrity.

Carl wasn't the only one playing on full realism, either. There was a number of specialists all over the world pressing on through a trail of blood. Most, however, couldn't be verified, and few believed in Fleeting Time's claims about Carl's boldness.

Furthermore, hunting wasn't everything. Hunters, or rather combatants, comprised only a fraction of the general populace, not even a third, as many casual players got so disheartened by the hardships of realistic fights that they switched to other professions. While crafting was pure business, gathering was by far the favorite choice, as it held the most promise of striking gold – all it took was a momentary stroke of luck.

Gatherers included explorers and historians, miners and loggers, as well as herbalists and trappers. Everyone could find a treasure and then milk it or sell it, whether it was tangible goods, or intangible information. Here, the fundamental skill was shrewdness. And since this was a tutorial, they didn't have to hold back, their experiments often inviting calamity.

And so, some finds allowed them to trigger monster invasions on small towns, which subsequently could be plundered while the NPCs scrambled to defend. Others would spark guild wars over their ownership rights. Some were even auctioned off at astronomical prices.

Nonetheless, there were some, who saw Carl for the young dragon he was …

In the arena in Geneva, more and more Skyborne Lions were congregating on the hallowed sands. They were all given a simple instruction – turn it up to eleven and tear each other to pieces. Overseeing them was their vice guild leader, who took note of the gifted ones whenever he paused his own ferocious struggles against an eastern-style swordsman.

“To think he so easily defeated you with such inferior skill and equipment,” Amaranthine Bushido mused.

“Easily? Ha!” Radiant Bulwark snorted with indignation.

“I was an outside observer, boss.”

This prompted a sigh from the stalwart axeman.

“I challenged him prepared for everything. But as it turned out … I wasn't prepared to face his spirit. The pressure he put on me, or maybe … the pressure I allowed to influence me, made me perform ten times worse than I normally would. He lacks so much, and yet … he can grind horrid wolves like common mobs, while I wouldn't stand a chance,” he contemplated out loud.

“You really think he can pull it off?” Amaranthine Bushido questioned.

“You saw what I saw, and you heard what I heard … don't you?”

“It should be interesting,” the swordsman concluded, smirking.

“Oh, it definitely will be,” Radiant Bulwark cheerfully seconded. “Fate is coming, so it looks like the video conference is about to begin. We have to do our best to secure as much budget for this operation as is feasible for our guild!”

“Shouldn't we wait until he's done testing in gray wolves' den?” Amaranthine Bushido expressed his doubts.

“Time waits for no one,” the stout man disagreed, shaking his head decisively. “If we can befriend him, then whatever we invest into him, will be an investment into our own future. He's a trailblazer, and he can be our nuclear icebreaker, paving shortcuts for us that we never would have considered otherwise.”

“Yes, that would be great, but … we still need to ask the management for thousands of gold, and … how are we ever going to repay him?”

“What do you mean 'how'?” Radiant Bulwark grinned. “We're going to make him as strong as possible, as fast as possible!”