SAVE POINT 4
Rosabella
"What's the trade?" I snapped.
I didn't know where I was or what was going on, but I knew about bargains.
Negotiations.
It was how I survived in the world of online gaming and had been making it through high school: I give you this, you give me that. I do this for you, you owe me one. If this was some sort of RPG, I had to be able to dominate and get what I wanted through good, old-fashioned communication.
...But Dad was involved here. Potentially his life. It made me feel shaky and off-balance—like the ground was wobbling, and I could fall into a vat of lava with any tenuous wrong step.
I drew in a trembling breath, attempting to hide my unease behind steel eyes.
The gray-haired man looked me over with an impressed, lifted eyebrow, "Your L1 Determination, Bounce Back skill looks good on you. Well, you're brave for a reason; you're gonna need it. Your Dad's been taken into high-security prison custody for his crime. In fact, it's highly unlikely that anyone has enough skill to bust him out at this point—except for this squad of sexy individuals in front of you."
I clamped down on my teeth, outrage stinging my eyes and the back of my throat, "You just lied to me about killing him?! …Because you don’t have him to begin with…" I finished, annoyance grating at my tone. I should have known this was all a trick…
"We couldn't have you run," interrupted the pink-haired girl, shaking her hair out over the collar of her body armor like she was more interested in it than this conversation.
"I technically didn't lie about the killing part," the gray-haired man noted quickly, bringing up a finger "He’s been scheduled for execution in seven days."
"Execution?!" I balk, my head crashing in dizzying circles.
Seven days? A week to save Dad?
No, I wouldn’t panic. I could figure this out. I could DO this.
"How is that legal?"—the words fell out of my mouth, tripping—"I'll get a lawyer."
"There's no lawyers in The Game; what do you think this is, Phoenix Wright?" pink-haired girl scoffed, studying her nails this time.
I had to think. I had to act. But what could I do?
"You can get him out—you're sure?" My voice shook; I couldn’t hide it anymore. My whole body was shaking, trembling at the thought of losing Dad. He'd been there for my whole life. If he just disappeared, my entire universe—any kind of stability in my life—might too. ...What would I do...without him? Before, I’d imagined freedom, but now that the possibility was right in my face? …It felt like a void I didn’t want to step into.
"We can save his life if you choose to," the gray-haired man replied grimly.
'If I chose to?' What kind of messed up gimmick was this?
Of course, I chose to! I couldn't let him die!
"Choose what?" I narrowed my eyes, but my voice was desperate.
"To help us."
"I'm listening." It was almost habit to say the words. …Something finally familiar on my tongue in this strange situation—something giving me a semblance of control even as I was flailing. They were the words I always typed in the game chats or said to another RPG player when someone approached me with a trade. I was always open—always willing to at least hear them.
It should be the same in this case.
"Someone destroyed our world," The man's eyes were intense and crinkled with sudden, tangible pain.
"Let me show you,” he continued; his hands swiped a floating system menu open in the air:
[GDP – 85/100]
Current Gamer Population
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333 Million
Current Darken Population
152 Million
Darken To Gamer Ratio
~45.65%
Darkness Cover
73/100
Dilapidation Cover
91/100
What type of stats were these? I couldn’t make heads or tails of them besides the population statistics. What was a ‘Darken’? And did Darkness and Dilapidation Cover have something to do with the top number?
“GDP means Game Damage Points. Our world is decaying and filled with Darken, otherwise called zombies. We want to—need to fix it, and we need your help to do that," the man said, looking directly at me, "You help us fix our world, and we'll get your—" he paused, blinking, suddenly, as though he had something in his eye, "father out of prison safe before his execution day. I swear it."
I thought it over, tapping my foot on the ground like all the nervous energy in me had filtered to my ankles.
"...I can fix your world in a week?" I asked skeptically. I knew how obnoxious and sarcastic my tone sounded, but I was just having a hard time processing the weight of this trade...
“System, show me what I’d have to do to fix their world,” I dictated with more confidence this time. I mean, this system thing did work, didn’t it? I watched the groups’ eyes roam over the system message that popped up:
[System Understands Query…Loading Response…]
[System Answer: Level 6 Must Be Reached To Activate CM. Additional Requirements = Collection of 3 Creator Diamonds. Once Activation Is Complete, Level 8 Must Be Attained To Cast Enough CM To Repair The Game.]
CM? What was CM? I blinked at the response, attempting to take it all in.
“Ugh, CM means Creator Magic in case…in case you’re wondering.” One of the guys side-stepped forward to interject. He was middle-aged; his brown hair, which fluttered behind him in the wind, was straight and long, and deep freckles dotted his nose and cheeks where a gnarly, red beard didn’t cover. If I’d been looking at him from behind, I might had thought he was a girl because of his locks if not for his burly, warrior stance and all that armor...
I was wondering what CM meant so...
My eyes slid upward, trying to catch the man’s gaze which darted from the ground to the members of his black-clad group and back to me in a nervous manner. The brutish Nomad took that moment to itch at his beard.
“So…errr,” he started again, pointing a sausage finger at the neon answer still shimmering in the air. “You have to get to Level 6 by increasing your Experience Points—XP—by doing and collecting…” he looked at a loss for words, “stuff. And, obviously, you need the three Diamonds. Then, you can activate your Creator Magic, Level Up to L8 and repair our world.”
I couldn’t help it, I grimaced openly, although I probably should have hid it. It kinda seemed like a lot of work… Then again, I’d be trading to save Dad so…
The pink-haired, assassin girl threw both hands on her hips, "Do you want to save your Dad or not?"
"Of course!" I fumbled.
"Then, take the deal," she griped, one of her perfectly-plucked eyebrows raising in disgust. "We're good on our end. Rainer, there, can open a steel-shut door with one pinky finger"—she gestured to the long-haired guy who’d helped me with the CM stats. His squat muscle mass alone seemed to back up her statement—"and Dorkcus over there—"
"Dormouse—" the nerdy, sickly-looking, beanpole of a kid with dark hair who she was pointing at, corrected swiftly.
"Not my fault you chose a shitty nickname from Alice in fucking Wonderland," the girl barked back, "...but he can hack into any electric grid, key-code or computer system faster than you can sneeze. ...He's a heck of a cipher-wiz too—"
“Coder 14, so,” Dormouse wheezed bashfully, swiping a hand to catch the dark hair that nearly fell into his eyes as he ducked his head to hide the redness engulfing his cheeks.
"Aw, go on any longer about him and he'll get a crush," cooed the tough guy she'd called Rainer, feigning softness. “Not that Dormouse would ever have enough Swag Points to make a move—"
The nerd shoved him in the shoulder, but he wasn't able to even budge the guy.
They seemed friendly with each other... Could I trust them?
Their leader, the gray-haired one, appeared the most trustworthy. ...Did I really have any other choice here? It was them or Dad would die. They could be lying, but it was probably unlikely...
A system message slid into view:
[Proposed Trade: ROSABELLA, GAME MAKER 1 Repairs The Game World, CALLEN (TRADER 10) RAINER (NOMAD 9) JOY (WARRIOR 11) & DORMOUSE (CODER 14) Free PRISONER 10]
[Will You Accept The Trade?]
[Yes] [No]
"You'll get my Dad out of prison before they execute him...safely?" My voice wavered slightly, like my decision.
"Sure, kid. Piece of cake," the pepper-haired Trader—Callen—nodded.
"One more condition," I growled, feeling for that one second like they might listen to me. "You tell me why this isn't my street and why you're all dressed like you're straight out of Comic-Con 2014."
Pink-haired girl laughed at that—a yapping, high-pitched snort.
"Oh damn!" she shrieked, "She's good!"
"She needs to shake on the deal," the hulky Nomad, Rainer, spat, shoving forward again with a sense of urgency written in the lines of his tanned face.
It was kind of intense.
I backed up slowly. He wasn’t going to attack me, or something, was he?
The gray-haired Trader lifted his hand like a peace offering between the two of us. "Sure"—his voice was even and calming—"She'll shake on it, right Rosabella?"
I looked at his hand, extended there in midair and made a decision.