Volume 1 - Chapter 5

The Letter

I was standing in the lobby of my apartment building next to night porter Raymond. He had just handed me an envelope.

Looking at the postage in my hand, the sender's name was nicely handwritten on the front with a fountain pen.

I knew it was normal for the time, but I wasn’t used to the old-timey handwriting.

I admired the penmanship for a minute. Then I opened and read the letter from Samuel Donovan, Private Detective.

Dear Mr. Jones,

We know you were present in The Green Yards on the night of June 10th, 1926, about one week ago. Second-hand witnesses arriving at the scene provided your name and address, stating you witnessed the murder of Owney "The Owl" Johnson.

You are not considered a suspect, however, we do want to hear from you, since you work for one of our own men, Thomas Gallagher. You are not to communicate with Mr. Gallagher about this summons. He is unaware that we are reaching out to you.

Your prompt cooperation is crucial to the successful resolution of this case, and our clients, known collectively as The Green Fists, should not be ignored.

The detective agency is located at 1128 Whitaker Street, Grimsborough Heights. If you could meet with us by the end of the week, that would be ideal. Otherwise we will conduct the interview under different terms.

We trust you understand the gravity of the situation, and that you are smart enough to respond without further encouragement.

Private Detective,

Samuel Donovan

I put the letter in my pocket. Before I could let my mind get carried away with imagination, multiple notifications distracted me.

Achievement: Three Reasons For Existence - You received your third mission, so now you have plenty of things to do!

Next to the new achievement, the number was 87%. I was amazed that 13% of players still hadn't received it.

I was beginning to realize the achievement system didn’t provide anything substantial. Did I really need to know about something if I wasn’t gaining items, experience, or skills?

While I was busy considering whether I would disable the achievement notifications, I received a new unlock.

Unlocked Missions - You have received a third mission, and you now have access to your mission screen to better keep track of your storylines.

+100 XP

You have 200 XP total

You need 800 more XP to reach level 1

This drew my attention from the others, and I opened the new screen quickly. Three missions showed active.

Reading the first one, I knew I needed to visit Samuel Donovan's Detective Agency at 1128 Whitaker Street in Grimsborough Heights before the end of the week, and be prepared to tell him everything I saw.

The second mission was a simple one. It told me to explore Grimsborough Heights, and that I would receive experience for becoming fully acquainted with the district. It was a fairly standard achievement in most games.

The third one reminded me again of the job for Mr. Gallagher. There was a window that still needed fixing at the Bluebird Court Apartments, unit 3B, in The Green Yards.

My eyes looked for more, but that was pretty much it. The biggest problem with everything happening was that I didn't know what my character knew before I became him in the game.

I had the memory of Owney "The Owl" Johnson's death. I knew that Mr. Gallagher was one of the gunmen. I had received a few doses of ice-cold knowledge that felt pumped into my brain.

Otherwise I was flying blind and completely reliant on these three missions to learn more.

Below all three missions was an asterisk and fine print informing me they would update as I progressed. There was no information regarding difficulty, reward, or penalty.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

I sighed. Oh well. At least I had a mission screen unlocked.

As soon as I closed the translucent screen out, I received my next notification.

Unlocked Profile - By earning 200 or more total XP, you now have access to your Personal Profile.

+100 XP

You have 300 XP total

You need 700 more XP to reach level 1

I let out an audible sigh of relief and said, "finally."

It did make some type of sense that the game system was forcing me to run around for a minute before dumping everything on me. The slow drip of cold data into me was preferable if the alternative was a massive brain freeze.

My profile was no longer blurred, and as I read it, vivid details came to me as if downloaded.

I was a friendly, down-to-earth average guy. I moved to Grimsborough Heights a few months earlier and found a district plagued by poverty and crime.

After having no luck finding work at nearby factories, I was hired as a handyman, fixing various things for local landlord Thomas Gallagher. Part of my pay covered the cost of my apartment unit in Hollow Court.

Most of that I already knew. It certainly added up since I owned basic tools and I was wearing overalls and boots.

Reading more, I knew the job took me to many places owned by Thomas Gallagher, including The Green Yards.

As I read that portion of my profile, I could visualize exactly where The Green Yards were and many of the rental units and tenants I had worked with.

Some of the homes I had been in and some of the things I had fixed came to mind. Things like pipes, windows, doors, and patched walls. I didn't know the people's names who lived there, but I would recognize their faces when or if I saw them.

Switching back to the missions window, I wondered if that had also updated. There was no point in delaying now that I had missions to do.

I read quickly, and more memories become my own as if I had truly experienced them. The most important one was a repeat, but I read it once again to see if new details existed.

I witnessed the murder of Owney "The Owl" Johnson on June 10th, 1926. I had just finished fixing a leaky sink at One-Eyed Frankie's place in The Green Yards. He was a good guy, easy to joke around with.

It was about 8:20 p.m. The moon was out, casting an eerie glow across grimy streets as I walked home.

"The Owl", as he was known around The Grims, walked with two other men, in their usual swagger. I’d seen the high-profile gangster before. He and his son Brad "The Bat" owned a nightclub there and they both frequented the joint.

The sound of screeching tires interrupted me. I turned to see an old black Packard with a missing fender careening around the corner.

Before I could even process what happened, four gangsters jumped from the stopped Packard and opened fire on The Owl and his men. The sound of gunfire echoed through the night, and I ducked behind a parked sedan.

It all happened so fast. Anyway, I skipped ahead in the reading since I knew all this already. Mob hits weren't unusual in The Grims, but it was different this time. An important member of The Green Fists had just been hit by one of their own.

Several other witnesses near me gasped as they approached, freezing in silence as the vehicle took off.

I hung around a while and talked with some neighbors. The police and coroners came to clean up the mess.

Leaving that screen open for a minute, I contemplated the knowledge. I had already learned that notifications arrived when screens were closed, and when conversations were done with.

I didn't want any distractions for a minute.

Things were finally starting to add up, and I wanted more time to think about them before I moved on.

No wonder my character was a drunk. I worked for a man who was a member of The Green Fists. I witnessed a high-ranking member of the gang get murdered. Now I was being summoned by a detective who represented the gang.

It sounded more like it would be an interrogation than a conversation. I had watched movies about the mafia, and it was looking like I would be the random character pinched between two forces.

If I ratted on Mr. Gallagher, he would want me dead. I would also lose my job and my apartment, if The Green Fists managed to kill him before he killed me.

If I lied to The Green Fists, they would want me dead.

"Great…"

There was the squeeze. I knew it would come down to me making a choice at some point.

I closed out the screens and I was surprised I didn't receive more notifications.

Raymond had not moved. My presence after the two conversations didn't seem to interest him.

Oh, well. It was time for me to move on. Even if I couldn't make progress in two of my missions during the middle of the night, at the very least I could acquaint myself with the area and start filling out one of them.

Stepping from Hollow Court Apartments, the sounds of Grimsborough Heights enveloped me. Despite being the middle of the night, the streets buzzed with a low energy.

The collective hum of millions of people living in a giant megacity echoed from darkened alleyways.

The buildings were brick, iron, and thick, designed with care and detail. They rose high into the night sky.

Broken bottles and discarded refuse lined the sidewalks, where a surprising number of NPCs still roamed. Men wore scally caps and bowler hats, walked with canes, and had all manner of unique beards. Women wore flapper dresses and long-feathered hats.

Streetlamps splashed an eerie, flickering glow, their gas-powered flames struggling to light up the night.

As I walked in a random direction, I passed a group of homeless grey-named NPCs huddled around talking, their faces obscured by tattered rags and shadow. They eyed me warily as I approached, and their murmured conversations fell silent.

Having learned my lesson from Raymond, I didn't get caught up in another long conversation. I gave them each a respectful nod and continued on my way, their voices resuming behind me.

Rounding the corner, I found myself on a wider avenue lined with boarded-up storefronts. A stray dog rooted through a pile of trash, ribs noticeable beneath its stretched mangy coat.

The acrid stench of decay and stale urine hung heavy in the air, making me grimace. It was amazing the level of detail NexaTechNeuro had put into the game.

I felt as though I was truly in The Grims. It was a dark and dangerous place, and I needed to keep myself aware if I wanted to live.

In the distance, I spotted the flickering neon of a seedy bar. Its windows were clouded with grime. A group of rough-looking NPCs loitered outside, passing a bottle back and forth.

As I drew closer, I could hear them speaking in a mix of profanities and raucous laughter.

"I'm telling ya right now, Mr. Sadler ain't gonna like this one bit," a man slurred, taking a long pull from the bottle.

"Sadler?" another laughed with contempt. A cloud of smoke billowed from his nostrils. "Who cares? We help our own, y'hear? The gangs are all gonna kill each other, and we don't wanna be on their bad sides, especially The Cortez Family.”

Their words piqued my curiosity but I knew better than lingering. I didn't want to end up in another fifteen minute conversation that got me nowhere.

My profile said I had lived here for months, and I had been able to stay neutral. These NPCs obviously had something to do with The Cortez Family, that up-and-coming gang trying to murder their way through The Green Fists.

I had nothing to do with any gang or vampire business, and I wanted to keep it that way. My neutral affiliation was probably why I still lived.

As soon as I stepped away from the conversation I overheard, I received a notification.

Achievement: Listener - Listen during at least three conversations.

Next to the new achievement, the number was 79%.