Chapter 4: TUTORIAL
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Something soft and moist prodded my cheek. Groggy and disoriented, I tried to brush it away, only to find a rough, noodle-like tongue licking my face.
I jolted awake.
“What the hell?!”
Startled, the creature scurried back, blinking at me.
It looked like a pangolin, about two feet long, with a long snout and a tail stretching the same length as the body. I remembered watching National Geographic videos about pangolins walking on their hind legs with sharp claws like tiny velociraptors. But this one was different. Its scales were silver, and under the coat of armor was a blanket of white hair—alien but kind of adorable at the same time.
Its dark eyes locked onto mine. I reached out my hand as a friendly gesture, but it took off with blinding speed, leaving a shimmering blur.
“That was a silverglint.”
I turned and saw Cragmarr behind me. Thankfully, that other… thing… the Jingozi, was gone.
“Very rare,” he continued. “People believe they are omens of good fortune. But there are always two.”
“I guess I was never dreaming,” I said, my throat dry. “How long was I out?”
“Three days.”
“What? Did you stand there the whole time?”
Before Cragmarr responded, I took in my surroundings. The view was breathtaking.
The forest was a muted display of light and shadow. Humongous pine trees stood as the early sunlight poked through the canopy. A cool mist carried the sounds of waking birds and the occasional rustle of branches in the wind. Patches of moss glowed in the dim light, and dew clung to the grass. Despite my circumstances, the forest was calm and subdued, and the air smelled crisp and fresh.
I felt refreshed—invigorated even—if you ignored the fact that some creepy thing called a Jingozi had kidnapped me, and now I was talking to a pile of clay and rocks named Cragmarr.
“I do not sleep,” he said. “There is a package for you.”
Behind the log sat a wooden box wrapped in an ornate red scarf, with the heart symbol representing the Ninja faction. The scarf was made of exquisite silk and large enough to be a blanket. It would have cost a fortune in Vegas.
I touched the package.
DO YOU WISH TO LOOT THE CONTENTS OF THE NINJA STARTER PACK?
[Yes/No]
Startled, I stumbled backward. The notification remained.
“Um, yes?” I said, ducking by instinct as more text started scrolling.
YOU HAVE OPENED THE NINJA STARTER PACK
You receive:
- Small backpack [12 slots]
- Small knife [1]
- Tinderbox [1]
- Small rope [20 feet]
- Bandages [10]
- Rations [10]
- Waterskin [1]
- Basic field Ninja uniform [1]
- Ninja scarf [1]
- Ninja faction token [1]
The box disappeared, and I took a moment to sit there, rubbing my eyes.
Yeah, just like a video game. What the hell?
Cragmarr was putting on a belt with pouches.
“Hey, where did all the stuff in the box go?” I asked.
A grid with twelve slots appeared.
INVENTORY [SMALL BACKPACK]:
- Small knife [1]
- Tinderbox [1]
- Small rope [20 feet]
- Bandages [10]
- Rations [10]
- Waterskin [1]
- Basic field Ninja uniform [1]
- Ninja scarf [1]
CURRENCY:
- Ninja faction token [1]
“Okay, then,” I muttered. “Let’s see what this does.”
In my head, I concentrated on the waterskin. A brown leather bladder filled with liquid appeared in my hand. I uncapped it, gulped half the water, splashed some on my face, and dumped the rest on my neck.
That was probably a dumb idea, Em.
The ten rations were stuck together like an artisanal loaf of beef jerky wrapped in parchment. I peeled one off, the size of a hockey puck. It smelled like typical gas station beef jerky but with a hint of spices. My stomach growled, so I chewed it while checking the rest of the loot.
Next, the pile of garments and accessories appeared, neatly folded in a bundle. My skin itched unbearably because of the God-awful burlap sack. The uniform I received was meh—more like prison duds. But the half-fingered gloves, wristbands, and slipper socks with thick soles were welcome accessories. Thankfully, the package included underwear—red, of course.
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“Hey, Cragmarr,” I said.
“Yes?”
“Turn around.”
The Golem complied.
Untying the rope belt, the burlap fell around my ankles while I raced to put on the rest of the outfit. Relieved to be wearing fresh clothes, I checked the fit—exactly my size.
Okay, Em. Let’s say you’re not crazy. There should be a character sheet or something.
On cue, another screen popped up in my vision.
STATUS: [TUTORIAL MODE]
Name: Ember [8160]
Faction: Ninja [Field]
Level: 1
Zii: 100
Card Deck: 36 [Battle] / 1 [Spell]
Deck Upgrades: None
Meta: None
Attack: 0
Defense: 0
Spell: 0
Buff: 0
Special: None
I’ve probably lost my mind, but it’s official… I’m a level 1 Ninja… are we really doing this?
I took another minute, tearing off strips of jerky with my teeth. After swallowing the last bite, I turned to Cragmarr.
“Okay. I have questions that you’re gonna answer right now.”
* * *
Sitting on a log, I worked on my third ration, stress-eating as if it were a marathon poker session. I tried to act casual, putting the remaining piece in my pocket.
“Let me get this straight,” I said, standing up. “This whole world is a different dimension, not another planet. Like a multiverse or something. You’ve got seven factions at war. And the Jingozi, who are pretty much aliens, appeared one day as religious missionaries with some magical card game?”
“Yes,” Cragmarr confirmed.
“That’s not weird at all.”
“I expected you to feel the opposite.”
“Oh no, it’s totally weird. Anyway… so, all your factions learn this game to participate in Jingozi tournaments, just like poker in my world. If you win, you receive fame, fortune, and valuable resources for your faction.”
“Yes. But you must be chosen.”
“And the Jingozi body snatch people like me from our dimension—Earth—to also play Jingozi?”
“Yes.”
I rubbed my temples, mulling the whole crazy conversation.
“Why? It sounds like you’re all doing just fine fighting amongst yourselves.”
“That answer you must attain on your own,” Cragmarr replied, stepping forward. “But your kind has been playing the game as long as us.”
“Huh?”
“The Jingozi seeded your world with the game in various forms. You do not know it as Jingozi because your world is less attuned to magic. Training with games is part of their selection process. They have been observing you.”
“Yeah, that’s crazy, but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt here, Cragmarr. Go on.”
“There are two modes of Jingozi. The first is what you know as PVE, player versus environment. The second is—”
“PVP. Player versus player.”
He nodded.
“Then I have two questions,” I said. “First, why put me through all that torture stuff? And how do I get home again?”
“I’m sorry, Ember,” Cragmarr put a clay hand on my shoulder. “The Jingozi believe your kind plays better with a traumatic experience and story introduction. It is the fastest way to adapt to this dimension and motivate you to play the game.”
I batted his hand away.
“Let me get this straight,” I said. “You’re telling me that whole prison escape was like a crazy-ass cutscene from a video game? And you’re what… the tutorial?”
“Ember,” he said, holding both hands up, “I know this is difficult. But if you do not play Jingozi, they will not let you go home.”
“And what’s up with that spell card trying to murder me the other night?”
“The Jingozi consider it a rite of passage. Each card attunes to your unique Zii frequency. The pain symbolizes your sacrifice as a Jingozi apprentice.”
“What if I just refuse to play?” I said, pointing at myself.
“Ember, I know this is unfair, but to help you, every human also receives a special gift.”
“Oh really? Like Oprah is gonna give me a free car or something?”
“Who is Oprah?”
“Forget it. Go on.”
“You will discover it on your own. It is a special ability that only you have.”
“I’d rather have the car,” I grumbled.
“Please, Ember. We must start your training.”
I was clearly losing my shit and took a deep breath. The whole situation was getting more convoluted by the minute, but a tantrum would get me nowhere. Everything was about getting home. What choice do I have?
“Sorry, Cragmarr,” I sighed. “You’re just trying to help. Okay. Show me.”
* * *
Jingozi was a mashup of trading card games and 5-Card Draw. Cragmarr explained it using poker terms even though the players in this dimension didn’t require similar instructions. To them, the game was played using intuition because they were more sensitive to Zii magic. Even my user interface and notifications were explicitly designed for players like me.
Roughly one in a hundred thousand people are chosen to play Jingozi at any given time—making me like a Jedi in this world, or something like that.
Players at level 1 received a deck of 36 standard battle cards and one spell card. Like a wizard, your Jingozi deck was a spell book that gave you powers. And for every level gained, you learned another spell. The spells were a mix of effects granted to every player, while some were specific to a faction to reflect its culture and game strategy.
“To see your cards,” Cragmarr said, stepping to the side, “pull them from your inventory.”
I held my palm up, expecting the box to appear like the waterskin. Instead, my deck exploded from my hand, flinging cards like a magic trick. They fluttered and organized into a floating six-by-six grid. The words Battle Cards hovered in front of it. Another grid with twenty-four slots floated to the right, and a white card took one slot. It was labeled Spell Cards.
Each battle card resembled a domino with two stacked groups of pips representing values from zero to seven. Because I was a poker nerd, I calculated 252 battle points across all battle cards. Cragmarr explained that when you play a battle card, the number on top is your attack score, which is the “risk” to others. The bottom number is your defense score, representing the “reward” if you win the hand. However, your attack and defense also affected the cost of spells, which is why strategy and resource management were essential.
If your battle card is a [2/5], you could play it as a [2 attack/5 defend], or you could spin it into a [5 attack/2 defend].
Every hand started with five cards from your deck. With a flick of your wrist, they loaded into your hand like a magic trick. The decks were automatically shuffled, so RNG (random number generator) mechanics were involved. After playing any card, it was discarded. You can only play one battle card at a time but instantly lose if you run out.
“Okay, I think I got it for now,” I said, making my five-card hand appear and disappear. “But why can’t I open the spell card?”
“You have not reached that part of the tutorial yet.”
“Of course I haven’t,” I mumbled.
“Stand here,” Cragmarr walked across the clearing. When he was about thirty feet away, he turned and took a martial arts stance as if in a duel.
CRAGMARR [GOLEM] HAS CHALLENGED YOU TO A JINGOZI MATCH [TUTORIAL MODE]
Do you accept? [Yes/No]
Sure, why not?
YOU HAVE ENTERED A JINGOZI MATCH [TUTORIAL MODE]
Opponent(s):
1. Cragmarr [Golem]
With a hollow warble, the world dissolved into a technicolor swirl, and I felt a strange pulling sensation, like being sucked through a vortex.
We rematerialized standing in an expansive open space. The sky was mystical, illuminated by waves of translucent colors—like northern lights on psychedelics. My senses heightened to an almost unbearable degree. The air smelled of ozone and exotic flowers, and the dark ground felt solid and fluid simultaneously, like standing on swirling obsidian glass. A faint hum of energy buzzed in my ears.
An ethereal light outlined Cragmarr. With my enhanced vision, I noticed every crack and rock and even zoomed into my reflection in his eyes.
“Step forward and turn around,” he instructed.
After hesitating, I stepped forward and turned. Behind me stood a copy of me, frozen in time, with arms crossed and a blank expression.
What the actual…
“We are in the Jingozi Arena,” Cragmarr began. “Its properties allow us to play the game within an instance of time. No harm can come to our physical forms while we are here. What you see is an image of your physical form. It is your anchor and means to return when a Jingozi match ends.”
“Like being in virtual reality.”
“Correct,” Cragmarr continued. “But although this is not real, you will feel everything as it was. In this arena, anything is possible if you can imagine it as you play your Jingozi cards.”
I reached out to touch my suspended image. My hand passed through like a hologram.
“Okay, now what do I do?” I said.
“Play a card,” he resumed his combat stance, “and strike me.”