Volume 1 - Chapter 6

Stalvek Dyomin

Without a map, I walked several more blocks. I paid close attention to the street names because I had to make sure I could find my way back home.

The Grims was a labyrinth of winding alleys and crumbling avenues. Getting lost here would probably be a death sentence.

I walked by Shulberry Lane. The buildings leaned inward, as if conspiring in whispered betrayal.

A red neon sign buzzed and flickered, advertising rooms for rent by the hour at Shulberry Red Light. Multiple groups of scantily-clad NPCs chatted in cliques near the front door.

I saw a variety of every gender combination I could think of, looking at me hungry for my business. Some of them even looked… deathly, as if they were vampires.

Interesting.

Almost distracted by thoughts of how sexual mechanics worked within the game, I decided against finding out right away. I had no idea if I might get infected by something that would need medical treatment.

I made a mental note to check out Shulberry Red Light another time.

Being watched on live streaming services, I also thought about how embarrassing it might be to perform poorly with a hired partner. I didn't want that type of anxiety just yet.

The next street was Draven Court. The brick road was buckled and cracked. Looming buildings lined the sidewalks, their windows dark and empty like soulless eyes.

Hand painted graffiti marked their walls in vivid streaks of red and black. All the tags were indecipherable to me, like some type of language I might need to learn in order to navigate secret directions.

Then I reached Whitaker Street.

The road forked before me like the talons of some great beast.

To my left, the buildings seemed older, their brickwork weathered by decades of abandonment.

Storefronts lined the ground level, their windows boarded up or shattered. Rickety fire escapes climbed up to apartments like rusty ladders.

To my right, the buildings appeared more residential, with row after row of unique apartment complexes. Their windows glowed with dim interior lights, hinting at the lives unfolding inside.

Faded awnings hung above the entrances, flapping gently in the night breeze. A few cars lined the curb, their old bodyworks covered in dents and scratches.

With no real logic to guide me, I turned left onto Whitaker, heading deeper into a stretch of businesses. I saw no easy way of identifying street addresses on the storefronts.

Numbers were required back in my real world. It didn't appear to be like that here, so I could only assume the game was forcing players to learn the lay of the land.

Up ahead, I spotted the unmistakable silhouette of a Ford Model T police car, its black and white paint gleaming dully under a streetlamp.

Officer Packley, a burly NPC in uniform with a flat-brimmed hat, stood beside it. He had his nightstick raised as he barked orders at a handcuffed NPC pinned against the vehicle's fender.

The man being arrested was Billy Sadler.

I stepped closer and made out the details of the classic car. It had rounded fenders, tall thin tires, and the distinct shiny accents that marked the era.

Even in the dim light, I could see the Grimsborough Heights police emblem emblazoned on the door.

Sadler struggled futilely against the officer's grip, his face contorted in rage.

"I didn't do nothin'! That man’s lyin’!” Billy Sadler snarled. "Lemme go, ya flatfoot!"

Officer Packley was having none of it. With a deft motion, he shoved the man into the back of the car. "Save it for the judge, Sadler," he growled, slamming the door with a thud.

Only after the NPC had been put in the old cop car did I notice the blue-named player in the shadows to my side.

His presence startled me.

I jumped, and I could see the player grin. His arms were folded across a thin chest, and he leaned against the brick storefront as if he didn't care about me.

The blue name above his head informed me this was Stalvek Dyomin. He didn't move, but watched me with piercing blue eyes. They bore right through my soul.

I really needed to figure out how to unlock the mini-map, or at least find a way to see players and NPCs in my immediate surroundings. Otherwise I assumed this would happen more often than I wanted.

Without saying a word, the man intimidated me. I shouldn't have let that happen. After all, it was just a game. But everything about this player screamed enemy.

His dress pants and shirt were ironed crisp, and his dress shoes were polished bright. His eyes were focused on me like a hawk watching a rabbit.

Stalvek Dyomin looked sharp, just like an eager young mafia villain on the rise. I wondered if he'd started off with those clothes or if he'd already been able to find different ones already.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The stranger stepped forward, dim light revealing chiseled features and close-cropped hair. His movements were precise, giving off a calm self-assurance.

"Well, well," he said, his voice a low rumble that mocked me. He had a thick accent, maybe Russian, but I wasn't sure. "If it isn't the great Ethan Jones himself, stumbling through The Grims like a lamb to the slaughter."

I tensed, gulping at his mocking tone. "And you are...?"

Instead of sounding tough, I felt dumb.

A thin smile crept across his lips, void of any warmth. "Stalvek Dyomin. I guess you don't even know how to read the name above my head. No wonder you're not even level one yet.”

I had noticed his name, but the player's sudden appearance surprised me. I had stumbled on my words like an idiot, and he took the opportunity to throw that back in my face.

Stalvek's gaze drifted to the cop. "This is my second mission already accomplished," he said with a casual shrug. "I'm almost level two already. You'd best pick up the pace, Jones! You don't want to fall too far behind."

A cold knot twisted in my gut as I realized the implications. Stalvek was already outpacing me, and judging by his smug demeanor, he was well aware of it.

Worse, there was an unmistakable confidence about him. I had a sense he was merely toying with me.

We had all barely been in the game for an hour, so I knew he was going to be a fast-growing problem.

I realized after a minute he was playing up the part for his audience of streamers. The man's eyes constantly looked around as if he was positioning himself for invisible cameras.

My immediate opinion of the man was not good. Stalvek was an alpha type who spoke with an elegant flair and knew what he was doing.

I swallowed hard, struggling to maintain my composure under Stalvek's piercing gaze. If he wasn't going to kill me, or couldn't, then I might as well try to get some answers.

"So, uh...” I asked, “I guess you have a good handle on how the game works?”

He was acting tough, but he might just be bragging. I took the chance, working under the assumption that if he could attack me, he already would have.

Stalvek's smile faded. "You could say that."

I gulped, unsure what the man was capable of.

He took a step closer, his movements fluid and predatory. "Tell me, Ethan Jones, have you at least unlocked the mission and profile screens? Do you even know who you are yet?”

I shifted uncomfortably. Of course I had, but his assertive push made me suddenly question myself.

"I think so. It's... a bit of a learning curve."

"Hmm." Stalvek arched an eyebrow. "Well, perhaps I can offer some... insights."

His gaze moved to Officer Packley, who was now climbing into the front of the patrol car.

"Completing missions, that's the key to gaining experience. You only get a little bit from doing random stuff. Follow your character's main storyline and don't get distracted by common sense.

"Like this mission I just did," he continued. "It said I needed to speak to a guy, but the place was closed, so I found out where he went after work and got him to spill the mission early. You have to listen to the hints in every NPC's dialogues in order to speed-run this thing."

I wasn't that type of gamer, so it was good advice, but not particularly useful to me.

"Thanks?"

I thought back to what Raymond had said about The Greenies hanging out at The Eastern Club. That must have been my hint as to where I could find Samuel Donovan in the middle of the night.

He laughed. "And I can tell you haven't picked a side yet. You're gonna have to ally yourself and start doing whatever you're told. That's what I just did now. Ratted out one of my own since no one else in my gang had the balls to do it. I get tons of experience for it, and I'll be top dog before anyone else, guaranteed."

A chill ran down my spine.

It was that type of game, but still, running around killing NPCs and ruining their lives just to level up faster? That sounded an awful lot like he'd already chosen a life of violence and backstabbing.

Then again, it was a similar storyline to the one I had. If he'd ratted out Billy Sadler for something, then I could probably get a ton of experience for ratting out Mr. Gallagher.

Stalvek noticed my discomfort. His thin smile widened a fraction. "What's the matter, Jones? Having second thoughts already? Maybe this will convince you to go ahead and give up!”

I opened my mouth to respond, but he silenced me by removing a spiked baseball bat from his waistline. I stepped back out of fear he was about to use it, but also in amusement that the weapon materialized from his pants.

It was simply the way inventories worked, I mused. Then I wondered if this would be my last thought before he killed me.

Stalvek laughed, waving the nail-spiked bat in front of him. “Can’t use it as a weapon yet. Just wanted you to get an early glimpse of your death. My, oh, my! I can't wait for level three!"

I nodded, somewhat relieved in knowing I had more time before I died. Trying to investigate his weapon gave me no stats regarding it. Either I couldn't see any stats at all, or I just couldn't see his stats.

“Well…” I stammered, “maybe-“

“Save it! I don't have time for your naivete." His eyes narrowed to icy slits, and his weapon disappeared. "Listen closely. Stay out of my way. This is my game to win, and I don't intend to let some casual like you impede my progress."

I bristled at his condescension. "Hey, I'm just trying to figure things out, same as you–"

"No! Not the same as me at all. You're a casual noob, stumbling around blind while the real players are racking up experience and making a name for ourselves."

He leaned in closer, his words a low hiss. "I suggest you watch your step, Jones. The Grims can be... an unforgiving place."

I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to back away from his looming presence.

Building courage, I responded instead. "Yeah, well, maybe you could actually help me out instead of running that smart mouth of yours, then we could work together..."

I was stopped short by his arrogant glare.

Stalvek's eyes flashed with anger, his jaw tightening. For a tense moment I could tell he wanted to hit me. This man would never be a good team player.

His expression smoothed into an eerie calm, knowing he couldn't do anything. I saw his eyes dart around, as if he was still playing up the bit for invisible cameras.

"Help you?" He let out a harsh bark of laughter. "Why in God's name would I do that? You're not with The Cortez Family! Until you pick a side, I don't give two shits about you!”

I frowned at his words, but grew more curious about The Cortez Family. For some reason it made sense to me Stalvek had chosen that gang. They were described as being ruthless killers.

“The Cortez Family?” I asked, trying to gather more details, “who are they?"

Stalvek had already turned. His hand raised in a dismissive gesture. "That's none of your concern. Just stay out of my way, Jones."

Then he decided to look back anyway. "Oh, and one more thing. Don't trust a word that comes out of The Green Fists' mouths. They'll feed you whatever lies suit their agenda. If I was you, I'd pick your alignment very carefully. Everything in the game depends on it!"

With that final ominous warning, Stalvek Dyomin melted into the shadows, leaving me alone on the dimly lit street with more questions than answers.

It was a good thing our paths crossed before he was level three, otherwise I would be dead.

My hands were shaking, either from anger or fear. It was probably a good mix of both. I clenched them into fists, taking a few deep breaths to steady my nerves.

Stalvek was dangerous, and I was sure there were plenty of other players out there ready and willing to kill me.

He seemed to be aligned with The Cortez Family, or at least doing missions for them. If that was the case then I needed to figure out who Sadler was and why Stalvek had him arrested.

Whenever I met up with this detective named Samuel Donovan, I would need to decide whether or not to rat out my boss. Doing so would also mean I wouldn't be able to gain experience from handyman work, and I would probably need to find a new place to live.

It was a double-edged sword. Either way it went I would create enemies and make life harder for myself.

A notification appeared.

Achievement: Player Say Hi - You communicated with another real player for the first time.