Volume 1 - Chapter 3

First Steps

I quickly thought about my inventory, and the screen opened.

I had six available miscellaneous slots to put items into. One was occupied by a key, and one by the three dollars.

Only having six slots to put things wasn't going to cut it. I already knew I would need to expand this in some way in order to accommodate more holding capacity.

A flat diagram of my body provided additional slots for wearable items. I could change out my socks, shoes, underwear, pants, undershirt, over-shirt, face covering, and head.

Next to my body were two necklace, two wrist, and four ring slots. One of the wrist slots had the watch in it.

I had sixteen potential wearables in total.

Looking at the undershirt, overalls, and boots I wore, they each simply stated basic, with zero sell value and no information in the stat block.

Just out of curiosity, I removed my overalls and underwear and glanced down at my junk. My anatomy was exactly as I knew it in the real world, for better or worse.

It was amazingly accurate.

Suddenly remembering I was on a constant livestream, I blushed, put my clothes back on, and continued browsing through my translucent screens. Hopefully I wasn't the only player curious about their digital body parts.

In the weapons section I saw dedicated space for up to two main weapons and up to two secondary ones, as well as ammunition.

Everything else, I assumed, would have to be carried in miscellaneous slots. Those were limited for what could only be described as game design reasons, meaning it gave me something that needed improving.

The only thing I had on me to fight with were my fists.

Taking up one of my miscellaneous slots was the key from the dresser. Looking at it revealed that it was for this apartment, which made sense. I reached for the pocket where I put it, and also found a wallet.

Only then did I notice that my wallet didn't count as an item, but mechanically as a bag, with three slots of its own. My inventory screen had a wallet tab I didn't previously notice.

I moved the three dollars from my front pocket and put them into my wallet, clearing all but one of my six miscellaneous slots.

Hopefully I could increase the size of my inventory relatively quickly, otherwise I would have to play as a minimalist. I was the player that usually liked to pick up and carry fat stacks of everything like a walking warehouse.

Before leaving that screen, I decided to look in my wallet.

I had an identification card that revealed little about myself I didn't already know. I was an average young human with an average name, Ethan Jones. I lived in Unit 403, Hollow Court Apartments, in Grimsborough Heights, New Horizon City.

In most games of this nature I liked to play things casual, so being average felt right on par for me. I could develop my strategy and play style as I learned more.

Only one open slot remained in the wallet. The three individual dollar bills had stacked, but I didn't know how coinage would be handled.

Closing my screen allowed the notifications to continue appearing.

Achievement: Play New Horizon City - You selected 'Yes' at the prompt, and started playing New Horizon City. Congratulations.

Unspoken by the system was a percentage number next to the text block. It showed 97.2% of players had earned the achievement. Rough math informed me that twenty-eight players had either opted out or hadn't loaded in yet.

"Idiots," I said out loud.

If they signed a similar contract, then they had suddenly become responsible for the medical and tech costs of having put their minds into the simulation.

Statistically their new debt cost them more money than the average person earned in two full calendar years, before taxes.

Technology had come a long way since tech companies invested billions into artificial intelligence, but connecting the mind to hardware had always been a great difficulty and a huge expense.

Achievement: First One Thousand - You are among the first 1,000 to play New Horizon City. Your name will be immortalized in the future retail version.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

It showed 100%. I had to reread it a couple of times to make sense of the number.

If twenty-eight players had opted out, then there was no possible way one thousand players had joined the game, as was standard for NexaTechNeuro Livestreams.

Unless, I considered, there had been backup players ready to fill in should that happen. If so, those sideliners were lucky as hell to get a chance at playing.

Knowing we would earn real world money based on several audience metrics like popularity, wagered amounts, and total watch time, it would incentivize player drama within the game.

The more viewers each of us convinced to subscribe and watch us, the better off we would be at the end. The long-game was all we needed to remember, at least in my opinion.

Without having any audience interaction, that became a challenge. In the seven previous NexaTechNeuro Livestream events, most mid-level players found it difficult to maintain or increase their popularity as they progressed.

Some became absorbed by their new world, completely forgetting it was a game, while others lost interest without that feedback from audience reaction.

All I really knew was a top ten placement was big dollars. It was unrealistic for me to dream of that since I had a laid-back casual game style, but I couldn't help daydreaming of earning at least a substantial payout.

I cleared the screen and looked about my room in greater detail. It was smaller even than I imagined when looking previously.

A table and a chair served as my furniture. A whisky glass sat next to an unlabeled bottle of brown liquor. A half-smoked cigar burned next to it.

It was obvious my character was a smoker and a drinker, in part due to what he’d seen. Being inebriated while playing might be fun but I figured it wasn't a good way to start.

I pulled up my character profile and found no indications of impairment. As far as I could tell from a picture of myself, I was simply in a rough patch.

Not seeing any warning icons or bold letters on my status window, I relaxed. Before closing out, I took a moment to look over the rest of the screen.

Reading out loud, I said, "level zero, neutral, and no affiliation."

There were several other blocks full of information, but they were blurred out. Hopefully that would clear up before too long. The game obviously didn't want me to know something at that point in time.

Closing out the screen, I looked back at the cigar and the liquor.

They were tempting in a curious game mechanic kind of way, like how they might make me feel compared to reality. But otherwise I had no interest.

The tiny space only had one other area. I looked into the room through a small doorway next to the mattress on my floor. I saw a toilet, sink, bathtub, and a mirror.

On the floor near my bed was a metal toolbox. Hoping to find a hammer or some large item I could use for a weapon, I opened it.

Inside was a wrench, multiple screwdrivers, pliers, and a few other items I didn't recognize immediately. In the real world I was a grocery stocker at Mall-Mart, and I wasn’t very handy with tools.

I took a few minutes to look over them. The system allowed me to put the tools in my inventory, and even to equip them in my hand slots, but there was a blurred description of the stats. I wasn't even sure what type of stats existed.

When I held the items, the stat block read: "Can be held but will not inflict damage upon NPCs or Other Players."

Everything else was blurred out.

I shrugged and put all the tools back in the box except one flathead screwdriver. There was no sense in taking up all my slots. I had nothing to fix or fight at that moment, but I kept one just to be safe.

If I had to guess, I wasn't able to wield weapons at level zero. It was likely more important to get those handyman tasks done, and to learn more about why Mr. Gallagher had killed The Owl.

Achievement: First Weapon - You held an item for the first time that is capable of additional damage.

I smirked, wondering if the near-pointless notifications would continue. Having no other clues to find there, it was time to venture out from my apartment. I slowly opened the door.

The hinges creaked loudly in protest, echoing down a dim hallway. I wondered if WD-40 had been invented yet. In this world I couldn't pull out my smartphone and instantly get the answer to anything imaginable.

Achievement: First Steps - You have exited your apartment and begun exploring Grimsborough Heights.

I smiled. It felt good to be making progress.

The stat block next to my newest achievement said 9.3% of players had received it.

Tons of players were seemingly just hanging out in their beginning locations, but I knew that would change quickly.

Breaking 9.3% down against the seventy five players in Grimsborough Heights district meant that only seven of us had left our home or apartment.

So far, so good. I was ahead of the curve, and if I stayed on task I could keep it that way.

I looked down the hall. Floral wallpaper was faded and peeling. After locking the door I moved quietly, listening for any signs of life in the old building.

The place felt safe, but I wasn't taking any chances. More than likely, non-player characters were simply going about their regular routines.

At the end of the hall, I went down a narrow staircase and cautiously descended the three flights until I reached the ground floor.

I turned and looked down a wide hallway, seeing a lobby at the end. Maroon carpet with gold borders stretched the entire length. A glass door and two large windows looked out upon a dark city street.

Beside the door was a stained-wood counter, where a tired man sat on a stool next to the postage slots dedicated to residents.

He had a light grey name over his head, indicating Raymond was a NPC.

People in positions like this night porter made sense for the time period. Lots of people used to have custodial-type jobs.

Before I spoke to the NPC, a blue-named character passed outside in front of the windows, moving erratically and looking in every which direction. Clearly, it was another real player who was making moves quickly and must have started somewhere nearby.

I stepped out of view, just to be safe. In some games blue meant friendly, and in others it meant we could fight one another.

I took a guess at the player being unable to hurt me, but until I knew that for certain, I couldn't risk it.

The doors jiggled but didn't open, and I heard Raymond tell the player, “you do not reside here, Jason McArthur. You may gain access by renting an apartment unit or being invited.”

"Awww, man!" I heard an east-coast American accent. "Bro! I saw you in there. I live just two buildings over! We should try and team up to do missions together!"

The door jiggled a few more times, but Jason McArthur was unable to get in.

It was too early for me to team up with other random players. I wanted to know more about my own storyline first.

While I waited for the player to give up, the situation had me wondering. I didn't have a mini-map on my interface, and it would be nice to know my way around.

Most games had a map of some kind.

No matter how I thought about a map, no map appeared, and I started thinking there might not be one.

I tried again to bring up a map simply by thinking of one. The system finally provided some text in front of my eyes with a verbal message.

“You are unable to use map due to a lack of Awareness.”

“Great,” I said.

That got me thinking even harder. Obviously there was a map, I just couldn't use it.

Did I need to find a map in order to unlock it? Or, since it was capitalized for importance, was the map part of some skill or ability referred to as Awareness?