Chack, pause, Chuck, pause, Chack, pause, Chock. The sound of my consistent battering of the tree in front of me was about all I had heard for the last eight hours. I had to admit I liked it. It had a numbing feeling to it, which was put to good use in my current state of mind.

This digital world was something else. It was so real. Most of the time I didn't even notice that I was in a digital world. The only thing I had found weird was the auto stacking of the tree’s. The rest was stunning.

There were birds flying around, chirping at each other. Two tree’s back I had the pleasure of taking down a nest full with eggs. It shattered on the ground, making splashing sounds that made me hungry.

A small breeze blew across the brown mud cake masquerading for a field. The sun shone at a very comfortable temperature.Then, out of nowhere, it had rained for over thirty minutes. The slight after drizzle making me uncomfortable ever since. The only plus was that I could try out my new blue hypocrite raincoat for the first time.

At somepoint I had the pleasure of a small white bunny visiting me. Its fluff had looked real enough to give me a small panic attack as it hopped in and out of the trajectory of a chopped down tree. It ran off safe and sound, the game overlords had mercy. There was no doubt in my mind that the gore coming out of that bunny would be real as well.

I had even solved the lack of callus that had plagued my hands with cuts and blisters. The shed, after some thorough investigative work, had an old and dried up pair of working gloves. Shoved all the way towards the end of its two-by-two floor plan, making them tricky to find. They had saved me a lot of pain even if the injuries of the day before had disappeared the moment I had reappeared.

The chopping, was continous and monotone.

Chuck, pause, Check, pause, Chuck, “FUCK!” I shouted as the ax head got stuck at an awkward angle. It wouldn't be too bad if I wasn't still holding onto its grip with both my hands parallel to my face. Broken clean off. I looked behind me and there were about sixty tree trunks staring back at me. “This should be about enough to start a basic project… I hope” I paused, scratching my head “Why am I even talking out loud..” I said to the trees with a dry mouth. I coughed and spat on the ground. Even the green-yellowish slime that came out of my digital throat looked real.

I turned around, grip still in hand, an ax head still planted in the revengeful tree as I went to the shed. On the slippery journey I held a slow pace and thought back on where they hung on the wall. When I was there searching for something to put on my hands I had seen two interresting items that should help in this situation.

As I walked, my shoes went into the wet soggy clay like a hot knife into butter. I was regretting my choice to wear shiny shoes instead of some comfortable working boots. They not only looked weird under the tracksuit, they were also goddamn slippery. I almost fell face first twice, before finally reaching my destination.

I opened the creaking wood that hadn't seen a good stroke of paint in a long while, almost gagging in the process. It not only smelled like mold and dust anymore. It now had an extra tinge of wet wood and the stale air of moist clay as a small puddle was making its home in the middle of the shed. Right underneath a small hole in the roof.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Arm infront of my nose, I Ignored the growing indoor swimming pool and went to the right of the shed. The duct tape that was lying around on one of its shelves wouldn't do much. But next to it, I had seen two very interesting clipboards that could be the second not so real thing I would see in this world. reaching out I took one of two clipboards off its hanger.

As I took the clipboard out of its comfort zone and closer to my face the cord snapped. It had held a pen attached to it, but no longer. The pen had stayed behind in a crevice in the wooden wall. It didn't surprise me anymore. The basics this world provided you with were utter trash. I moved the clipboard closer to my face. As I squinted I tried to read what someone had scribbled with a fountain pen on the greenish paper.

Written on the sheet were some basic products and their cost. Duct tape five dollars, Ax (basic) twenty, Saw (basic) forty, Nails ten cents a piece, and it went on for a couple more pages.

This was great. I could now buy a lot of things I needed. Things I figured I needed to make out of the small mountain of trees outside. I only had one spotted and ripped problem. The piece of cow leather that had come with the clothes and was still empty. As empty as my bowels an hour or two after some delicious salami deep freeze pizza. Reality or no reality no dough equalt no shopping spree.

Coming down from my initial enthusiasm I looked at its counterpart still hanging on the wall. I put the green clipboard back on the wall and took its brother off. This time I took notice of the pencil attached and took it out of the wall first. I contained my urge to pat myself on the back as I avoided another accidental destruction.

This clipboard had a reddish, almost pink, piece of paper. Slight water damage on its edges. On it were only a few words compared to the greenish clipboard but what they had written was wonderful. I sighed in relief "Sell, quantity, price, tree trunks, and wooden planks being the most important of the bunch. Thank god for capitalism." I exclaimed. The prices though. Far from ideal.

“In what fucking world are complete tree trunks two dollars…" I grumbled as I looked for a way to change the price. There wasn't any. "What is this, it's not like there is an unlimited supply.. wait... So it will grow back... interesting... wooden planks are two dollars a piece..." I grumbled even more before realization hit. At least it's not the riddle of the century what I had to do next.

Processed materials are always more expensive than their source materials. The manpower put into the processed material was at least twice as much as its source material. It was all logical. Logical, but fuckie to the point of despair when you were the one who had to do the manpower in both scenarios.

“Fuck,” I told Little human what I thought about it. It ignored me.

I took the pen and scribbled the figure thirty behind the tree trunks. I looked it over, before putting a cross in the “yes” checkbox where it was asking me if I was sure.

The paper disappeared and a fresh one re-appeared. That and sixty dollars underneath the rusted clip. I was sure that half of my hard work, laying outside in the drizzling rain, had vanished. Gone without a trace. Traded in for hard game cash.

I dislodged the pencil from the wall and then swapped the clipboards again. In one fine stroke of a pen, I blew through my gained wealth.

The two items I bought fell to the ground the moment the sixty bucks disappeared from my hand. A new basic ax and a basic saw. Handy, but the only real thing about this system would be my blood, sweat, and tears to finance this budding dream.

I walked back towards the tree line. It was time to reap the fruits of capitalism!