Volume 1 - Chapter 24

The Midway

Back in my apartment, I took a deep breath and surveyed the mess.

Empty whisky bottles littered the floor, and the smell of stale alcohol hung heavy in the air. I shook my head, disgusted with my former self for letting things get this bad.

The old Ethan Jones from before I loaded into the simulation had been drinking himself into an early grave. He was nearly broke in a dangerous city, working for a killer.

There was no wonder he’d taken to the bottle. He’d lost hope he could pull out of his situation.

I grabbed a trash bag and got to work, picking up each bottle and tossing it in with a satisfying clink.

As I worked, I thought about how far I'd already come since I first woke up in this place in Grimsborough Heights.

I was no longer the same lost and confused player I was when I first opened my eyes. I had a purpose now, a personal mission to take down the gangs tearing the city apart.

Once I had all the bottles picked up, I wiped down the table and chairs, trying to erase any trace of my previous self.

I took a moment to appreciate the cleanliness of the room before sitting down at the table and checking my screens.

My social screen showed Mia Haoyu still hadn't accepted or declined my request. I shrugged it off. She was probably busy with her own storyline.

I didn't want to bother her, so I decided to leave that as it was for the time being. Glancing at the dresser where I'd hidden the folders, I considered spending the rest of the evening gaining knowledge that could seriously help my game.

Then I remembered my arrangement with Jason McArthur.

Sighing, I didn't want to let down what could prove to be a good ally.

I opened up a new message window and typed up a short letter for the roguish player from New York. I suggested meeting up at Emma's Kitchen in about an hour.

Let’s meet at Emma’s like we discussed at around 7:15 p.m.

The sun was already down, and I hoped the place was still cooking. I had no idea how late restaurants kept their doors open.

I hit send and got a prompt that Jason McArthur would receive my message when postage ran in six hours.

“Six hours!?” I blurted out, but of course there was no one to counter my disbelief. I still asked, “What is this, the 1920’s?”

I spent a considerable amount of time upset by this mechanic, wondering why the designers thought it was a good idea to make players wait for long-distance communications.

Not everything had to be realistic. Fixing the window certainly hadn't been lifelike, so why was this particular thing so old-school?

I said, “Well, I guess he’ll read that after we meet up.”

The fact that simple social messages were considered postage, and that they took six hours to deliver, was ridiculous.

I left the apartment early and went walking towards Emma’s Kitchen. I had no idea when or if Jason would actually show up there.

As I walked, I felt a sense of unease that hadn’t hit me the first night. The streets of Grimsborough Heights were dark and dangerous, and after simply scratching the surface regarding vampires, I was being far more conscious of the shadows.

Dark alleyways hid gleaming eyes. On more than one occasion I saw red dots appear and then vanish from my mini-map, exactly where I looked down those dark passages.

Vampires, I had thought at first, but it seemed too obvious for that. They could have been simple human NPCs lurking in the shadows, ready and waiting for me to hit level three.

It was just another reminder I needed to be prepared. At both my level ups I hadn’t been offered any combat related talents, but knowing so little of the game, it made me nervous.

Would I even survive level three?

I continued on my way, footsteps echoing off the empty buildings around me. I could hear sirens in the distance, a constant reminder of the violence that plagued the city.

As I approached Emma's Kitchen, I saw the lights were still on inside. I let out a sigh of relief, knowing I had a place to sit down where I could wait for good company.

I pushed open the door and stepped in. The air conditioning in the restaurant hit me like a wave, and I felt more comfortable immediately.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Emma was busy wiping down the countertop with a rag. She looked up and smiled when the little bell above the door jingled.

"Hey Ethan, back again, huh?” she said. "What can I get you?"

"Just a cup of coffee for now. I'm waiting for a friend."

She nodded and poured me a cup, sliding it across the counter towards me. I took a sip and savored the warmth as it spread through my body.

I asked, “When do you close?”

“Oh, that’s a laugh, Ethan Jones, we’re open all the hours.”

“You never close?” I asked.

It genuinely surprised me, since I had always believed open-at-all-hours was a modern concept for businesses.

“Never, hun,” she winked. “It’s a busy city, ain’t that right, One-Eyed Frankie?”

A one-eyed blue-collar worker at the end of the counter said, “aye! Got that right, hun!”

My mind told me I'd met the man before, but it was actually the first time I had since those memories of the game were false. A few weeks earlier, I'd patched up a wall in his unit down in The Green Yards. He was one of Mr. Gallaghers tenants.

Looking back at the restaurant owner, I wondered if Emma ever took time off. She was a NPC, but still, if the game was going for realism it was off with this detail.

“You here all the time?” I asked.

“Lords, no!” Emma laughed. “I leave around nine and I’ll be back for the breakfast crowd. Night cooks run the place when I’m sleeping.”

I nodded, feeling as though I should have guessed as much.

“Well the food is delicious, so I might end up ordering something in a little while.”

Emma smiled. “Great! Good new look you have going, by the way. Good to see you making progress.”

“Thanks, Emma!”

She smiled and went back to cleaning. “Better get my checklist done so I can get out of here on time. You need anything, just holler, okay hun?”

“Will do."

Emma's friendly personality reminded me she was far better than the NPC at that other restaurant I'd visited.

I watched the front door for a while as NPCs hurried about. Only a handful of player characters passed by in the half-hour or so that I waited.

Jason arrived after a while, looking a bit frazzled. "Oh, thank god you're here!" he exclaimed, plopping down near me. "Cool digs, by the way!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

He took a deep breath and launched into a story about his day. He talked about witnessing a car chase through the streets of Grimsborough Heights, a shootout in an abandoned warehouse, and a narrow escape from some woman chasing her husband.

I listened, half-amused and half-impressed. Jason certainly had a knack for getting into and out of trouble. I hadn't experienced half the crazy things he talked about.

But then he got to the part about The Cortez Family. Apparently, he'd made one of them mad during a side mission and now they were enemies with him.

"And the worst part is," he said, running a hand through his hair, "I don’t have that mission anymore. There’s no way for me to get that experience."

I frowned. "That's rough. Have you tried talking to them, maybe smoothing things over?"

Jason shook his head. "I tried, but they're not interested. They said I crossed a line and there's no going back."

“What line did you cross?”

“They wanted me to talk to that cop I told you about before, Mackson. He’s clearly a crooked officer. They wanted me to pass along a fat envelope to him all secret like.”

“And you said no?” I asked. “It’s just a game, Jason. It’s not like you’re actually complicit in some kind of real crime.”

He shook his head. “I know, I just didn’t want to do it. I thought about taking the envelope and keeping it for myself, but then I knew they would just kill me as soon as I hit level three.”

I nodded, understanding his dilemma. “Yep.”

“And anyway, I mostly said no because I just don’t like that officer. I didn't want to hand him a fat stack of cash for being crooked, you know what I mean?”

I leaned back in my seat, thinking. The more I got to know Jason, the more I liked him. I wasn't sure if all his stories were completely accurate, but he seemed like a nice guy with his own sort of moral code.

"Well, maybe there's another way. Have you tried talking to anyone else who might be able to help?"

“Yeah, but no luck. Far as I know that mission’s gone.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah. Funny thing is, I guess every player needs a main mission, so I’m guessing the game knew I needed something fresh. I was standing outside, trying to figure out what to do, when this weird guy came up to me. Said he was from the newspaper."

I raised an eyebrow. "The Gulf Horizon newspaper? A journalist?“

Jason shrugged. “He called himself a muckraker, whatever that means.”

“Interesting.”

"I thought so too, but he said he needed help uncovering something to do with The Cortez Family. Since I had just cut ties with them, he offered me a reward if I could get him some information he needs."

I leaned forward, intrigued. "What kind of information?"

Jason hesitated. "He wouldn't say. Just that it was important. Said he wouldn’t tell me anything unless I agreed upfront to help.”

"And did you?"

"No, not yet. Told him I would think about it. I'm already tired of all this garbage with the gangs, man. It's like they're all just running around killing for some pointless control of a place that's not worth anything."

"It's not worth anything because of them," I clarified.

Jason laughed. "That's a good point. Somebody needs to get rid of the gangs, that's for sure."

I kept my eyes locked on the man. When he finally noticed me looking at him, he stared back with a smirk that just kept growing.

"What?" he said, "and you're thinking we're the ones that's gonna do that? You're insane. We're barely surviving as it is, and you know what's gonna happen as soon as we hit three!"

I shook my head. "I'm gonna answer that with a plan I'm thinking of, I promise, but first I might be able to help you decide if you want to do that mission or not.”

“How so?”

“I know a journalist. She might be able to confirm if that guy is legit or not. As in whether he works for The Gulf Horizon. What’s his name?”

"Hold on, let me look," Jason said.

I knew he was reading through his screens to find the NPC section. While he did that, I looked to see if Mia had accepted my request yet. It still showed the same as before, and I sighed, knowing I wouldn't be able to help right away.

His eyesight focused back on me and he said, "Bob Littles."

I nodded. "Well, I met another player. Her job in the game is a journalist, so if she accepts my friend request or we run into her again, we can ask her if she knows anything about Bob Littles."

"Awesome. Now, you said you have some type of plan?"

"I do."

Jason waited. I stayed silent, letting the moment drag out as long as I could let it.

He laughed. "Well, talk, damnit!"

I smiled looking around. There was no one close enough to overhear us.

"There's a good chance The Green Fists are gonna walk into a trap set by The Cortez Family. Most of the Greenies will die, leaving them weak and scattered. The Cortez Family and The Borrell Family are gonna be busy fighting each other. As long as we stay out of their business for a while we might be able to level up enough to where we can protect ourselves once they get interested in us again."

Jason nodded. It looked as though he liked the idea but remained skeptical.

I took another sip of my coffee and settled in for a long conversation. If this was something we actually wanted to pursue together, we would need a solid plan.

I might also have to be careful how much I shared with Jason. I trusted he was an honest guy, but I knew how much he liked to run that mouth of his.

The trick was in telling him enough so he never felt I had slighted him, as that wasn't my intention.

But oversharing might ruin anything we planned.