-Muted Infinity-
-A Cruel World: Ch 3-
Cotton.
Fields of cotton as far as the eye could see.
The white gold of the American south.
The cash crop so influential that it finally cemented the shift of the world's economic center from China and the Silk roads, where it had been since before the time of the Romans, to the New World and the Atlantic trade routes. It was so influential that it revived the dying slave trade, and cost tens of millions their lives.
But this cotton wasn't for selling, in fact no one was even farming this cotton, no one had in over a century. Instead this cotton was wild, with the farm long since neglected and no animals able to survive here, the crops had run rampant, growing out of control until it was nothing but a sea of brown bramble with white tops.
Metal bottomed boots crunched on the fallen stems of dead cotton plants, as they trekked across the sun scorched plains of a faintly radioactive wasteland. The grass was dead, the trees were dead, the sky was hazy brownish green. The only thing left here was the silty dirt and acidic mud that the mutated thorn puffs were growing out of.
It was almost poetic that a strain of the cotton plants had evolved to survive here. A bloodstained crop growing on a bloodstained world, both bristling with hidden thorns.
The only evidence of human existence was the neatly cut road through the fields and the old wooden house it led to. The fact it hadn’t been reduced to a bomb crater really showed just how “in the middle of nowhere” this place really was.
The house was old, that much was obvious, made without any modern electrical equipment, and only rusted metal lanterns & the occasional chandelier to light the inside. But despite its age, and the thin sheet of dust that coated every surface, the house still managed to give off an impressive feel. Large rooms full of rich rugs and cushy furniture, long hallways lined with oil paintings of people long past, closets full of elegant dresses and expensive coats, and a cellar stocked with walls of finely aged alcohol.
It was the home of a man who had clawed his way to the top, and embellished said life at the top for all it was worth. Look closely however, and you'll start to notice little details that spoke of a far darker story, than that of a simple self made man.
A small pile of chains on the outside porch, more rust than metal.
A cattle branding iron lost in a hurry, rolled under the rotten couch.
A braided leather whip left on a hook in a back closet… its tip stained red from long gone blood.
Will cringed as he saw the whip, immediately regretting letting his curiosity open the door.
"What am I doing here?" He asked himself as he kicked the closet closed with his boot, hopefully to never be opened again.
The house had an eerie aura that seemed to permeate the air, it spoke of pain, and dark things that had happened long ago on these very floor boards. He hated it… but he owned it.
Well, his family did at least. It had been hand built by his great great great something grandfather over the course of the man's life, gradually adding on and expanding it from a small hutt in the rat's end of nowhere to one of the largest cotton plantations in the state.
Although while he did technically own it, it’s not like anyone cared. Not only was the place literally falling apart at the seams, it was outside the safely insulated cities. That meant constant exposure to radioactive dust storms, raining atmospheric debris, and the toxic air that would slowly burn away your lungs.
This area was one of the few places where acid storms were relatively rare, but that didn’t mean it was healthy to stick around for too long.
He couldn’t use it for anything, and it wasn't like there were people lining up to buy the place either, for obvious reasons. Which brought him back to the reason he was here.
The man who ran this plantation was a cruel bastard through and through, but he was a successful bastard, having painstakingly carved his way from a dirt poor German immigrant to a fortune holder, over the broken backs of those on his leash. That had set a precedent, a cruel precedent, but a precedent nonetheless. He expected his son to do just as, if not better than him financially. Which, well, he did.
Moving far away from his abusive father, he caught the railroad boom and filled his coffers full from the very lucrative transportation business, before finally cementing his place at the top of the financial pyramid when his company was bought by Vanderbilt.
He even changed his last name to his mother’s, just out of spite.
And so the cycle continued. His son saw the breakup of Standard Oil's monopoly of the oil industry and quickly weaseled his way up the greasy pole. After all, if the biggest company in the world was being split into twenty little pieces, well then surely all of those little pieces would need someone to help run them? His son saw the shifting public opinion, and decided to abandon oil altogether, gambling his money into real estate, buying up land all around expanding cities, waiting a few years for the city to start running out of space, and then selling his land on an exuberant markup, making ludicrous profit margins. His son had taken one look at the world's affairs, and, with a large loan from his father that he swore to repay, had thrown his lot into the weapons industry, a move that proved to be prophetic when the United Nations was torn apart by disagreements in its own security council… Nearly every piece of American military equipment in the cold war that followed, had his company's logo stamped on it.
And then there was Will.
How were you supposed to make a fortune post apocalypse?
His great grandfather had survived world war three in a luxurious private bunker with enough food and water to feed his family for half a century, along with a custom AI assistant that oversaw all repairs and technical issues- perks of being the head of the world’s largest arms manufacturers.
But the food was long gone, the bunker rusting, and all the stockpiled funds completely used up on tunnels connecting the bunker to the cities.
Will sighed through his gas mask as he trudged through the halls. His parents had spent the family’s fortune like it was endless, living like the nobility of the acidic wasteland around them. They gave him the best books, the best tutors, the best food, and just after he finished his private schooling at 19, they completely ran out of money.
His parents had decided to start taking on massive debt to continue their lifestyle, and he had left to not get caught up in the inevitable fallout.
Oh he had plans alright, it would be hard not to come up with any plans with almost 21 years to scheme up a few, the problem was his lack of plans that weren't almost certainly doomed to fail.
Well… perhaps that was a bit dramatic.
Could he be successful? Yes, he could make enough to survive.
Could he live up to his family’s expectations of success? Be anything more than a middling income? Very unlikely.
The weight of hundreds of hours of custom economics classes being completely useless, and the past, at least, 6 years of his life seeming more and more like a complete waste of time, had led him to do some thinking. Which, he supposed, was why he was here, the place where it all began. Maybe here he could find some clue, a hint as to what to do. Find the inspiration he needed.
What had been his great great great grandfather's motive? Was it simply greed? Was it some desire to not die a 'nobody'? Why had he gone to the horrid lengths he had to achieve his goals?
Would solving any of these questions help him? Probably not.
But hey, it was something, and that was a lot more than most of the options he had left.
Unfortunately, the young entrepreneur hadn't found any answers so far, only broken dreams and things better off forgotten.
Scoffing, he trudged back the way he came, before pausing as he passed by a large painting. One of the largest in the house in fact, it was of Will's great great grandfather, dressed in an expensive looking coat, one hand around his wife's back, the other on the shoulder of a young boy, no older than 9, with wide smiles adorning all their faces.
Hans Hoffmann. The man who started everything.
How?
"How can someone so horrible, look so happy?" Will asked himself, even though he already knew the answer.
The world was just a terrible, terrible place that was full of terrible people.
And all the evidence he could ever need was right in front of him.
-Muted Infinity-
The world was just a terrible, terrible place that was full of terrible people.
And all the evidence he could ever need was right in front of him.
“I thank you for your time and cooperation, and hope you are able to enjoy your game more, now that all monthly subscriptions have been removed. Have a good day.”
Will stared at the spot where Dr Faust had just been standing moments before.
Deep breaths. Stay calm.
He inhaled and held it, focusing on counting to five in his head.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Ground yourself.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Think. Analyze the situation.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
He was, at the moment, stuck in a VR game. Death was supposedly real, and although he personally doubted anyone was crazy enough to actually do that, he wasn’t about to test it. So he’d assume that it was, for the moment, real.
He’d joined relatively late, and spent most of the day just fucking around at spawn and trying to make a cowboy hat. He didn’t have any resources, or special knowledge of the game.
Currently he was surrounded by a massive crowd of people who were panicking, and on the verge of a full blown breakdown. There was screaming, crying, and accusations. Negativity was feeding negativity. There was genuine danger of getting knocked down and dying under a stampede if this continued.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Look for opportunities.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
The ramshackle houses and huts had created plenty of alleyways that he could slip into to prevent being crushed by the crowd. The crowd of people was directionless and highly emotional, getting their attention would not be terribly hard. The stage was still there along with the podium and the microphone atop it.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Exploit the situation.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Will began shoving his way towards the stage.
-Muted Infinity-
The room was cold, dark, and completely silent other than the beeps and whirls of machines… if you only took a glance at the room, you would be forgiven for thinking it was devoid of human life.
Countless monitors, that had sat dark since the moment they had first been installed months ago, were now lit with fast flowing information. Once blank screens now flickered and displayed graphs and charts that changed and updated at a headache inducing rate.
The room that was the center for the entirety of Lab S63, stood as a dark, looming, monolith, illuminated only by the gull glow of screen light.
But despite this it was abuzz with the scientists assigned to work there, all working in total silence, without any conversations or muttering, all completely enraptured by their work.
...all except for one woman.
Muted horror. It was a term that Doctor Yuyara Ito had known of, and had seen used before, but never one that she’d ever truly understood until now.
701,045
701,045 People.
701,045 Human beings, just like her.
Each with their own lives, memories, hopes, fears, and aspirations.
…
701,045 data points.
701,045 numbers.
Reduced to graphs, spreadsheets, and readings that flickered across the screens of the lab.
She knew, intrinsically, that behind each digit was a person, and the horror that pooled in her gut as the number ticked down was still there, but when it was all arranged like this, the feeling was… numbing.
When the number ticked down, it was just that- a number.
… a statistic.
…
701,044 numbers.
“A single death is a tragedy, but a million deaths is just a statistic.” Yuyara weakly muttered to herself as the quote came to mind. “The human mind didn’t evolve to be capable of processing such large numbers, and it’s even less suited for comprehending actions at such a remote level.”
“An interesting quote, but like everything that came from the Soviets, it’s a horribly inefficient use of materials.”
Yuyara grit her teeth at the familiar voice that sounded from behind her, an acidic mix of irritation and anger bubbling in her gut.
“A single death is a thousand statistics, and a million deaths can teach the world countless times over.” Doctor Faust’s voice was the same as she remembered it, as he entered the room; tired, gravelly, and with a type of hollowness that gave her goosebumps.
“Stalin may have been in various administrative positions, but he was just a pencil pusher, a mathematician in only the vaguest of terms.” Faust ran his eyes over the screens as he entered the room, drinking in the data with the thirst of a starving man, but the emotional indifference of a statue. “But we… We are scientists. Where others see random events, we see patterns that we can learn from, events we can replicate.
“The main purpose of this simulation is to research the effects that worldwide resource depletion has on humanity, to see how society collapses, to see how order turns to chaos. Our purpose is to see these so that we may learn from them, learn how to avoid, or even reverse them, for when we inevitably face the same thing in the coming future. However… this is an unparalleled opportunity, and it would be a loss to humanity if I didn't allow the minds under me to exploit it as well.”
The way he said that caused an uneasy feeling to settle in Yuyara’s gut, and she finally forced herself to turn from the screens and look at him.
“Sir?”
“You’re a sociologist, are you not, doctor?” Faust spared her a glance. “This is a living, breathing human society that’s going to build itself from the ground up, without any outside interference, and then be subjected to tribulations strong enough to topple even the mightiest empires. And it’s going to happen with every single scrap of data archived. Surely you want to know how your predictions size up? To find out if the great minds that came before you, that you read of in your textbooks, were actually correct?”
Faust turned his attention from the screenes, now facing her fully.
“Surely you want to revolutionize your field, to be the one that people learn about in their textbooks? .. Surely you want to etch your name into history?”
“Y-You… Shut up! If this is how you plan to get me on board with your idea of scientific genocide, then it’s not working!” Yuyara hissed at him as she backpedaled away, attempting to end the conversation before the tiny part of her that liked his reasoning could be fed anymore.
“And I assure you that whatever you want to learn from this will backfire horribly!” She shouted as she stormed out of the room. “Your ‘simulation’ will fall apart! It’ll be chaos!”
“Good… I’m counting on it.” Faust hummed to himself as Yuyara slammed the door shut behind her, before turning his attention back to the screens. “The simulation needs to properly emulate humanity’s irrationality, if we are to prepare for the inevitable.”
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
-Muted Infinity-
‘This isn’t happening…’
“-Now for y’all impatient go-getters who spent the day outside of spawn, like myself, you can probably tell just by the dingy-ass buildin’s and infrastructure changes, ‘long this jewel of a city, that folks have been busy developing spawn towards something actually useful for once.”
‘This can’t be happening!’
Lucy stood in the exact same spot that she had been forcibly teleported to, more than ten minutes ago, staring off into nothing and having a mental crisis.
But the quick thinking speaker up on the stage, who had managed to just barely stop what would have most likely turned into a deadly stampede, didn’t know about her plight. Nor, in all likelihood, would he honestly care if he did- too busy dealing with the thousands more in the same situation.
“I know! I’m surprised too! This heap of junk? Useful? I guess there really is a first time for everything!”
A blond man who had apparently prioritized making a really crude cowboy hat, instead of progressing gameplay wise, paced up and down the stage in front of the podium. He was so far that Lucy could just barely make out “South” amongst his username, but his voice naturally carried well, so there wasn't much problem with hearing him.
“One of the guilds from the old game, can’t remember their name, but ah think it started with a C, has been tryin’a build this place up to be half decent. They’ve been doin all the organizing and what not, and they’re currently standin’ at the edge of the stage, looking all professional-like and glaring at me so I’m gonna go on an’ hand it off to them, but don’t worry! I ain’t going no where, and y’ain’t gonna do nothin’ stupid that y’all’re gonna regret, right?”
He waited for some affirmation from the crowd before nodding and starting to walk off stage. “Yeah, no running ‘round all panicked and tramplin’ the fellah next you ya, trust me they’re just as much in need of a beer as you are!”
That got some laughs from the crowd.
“Thank all you folks for listenin to the world's worst Ted Talk, and don’t you worry, we’ll get outta this mess together! And just before I go, my name’s Will, and I’m settin up a meeting ‘bout where to go from here. I know a bunch of the major guilds from the last game are reformin’ so if y’all could send leaders or a representative up to the northside wall in, let’s say, half an hour, we can sit down and make a plan on what to do.”
The man tipped his hat to moderate applause, as he walked down off the stage, content with calling and getting himself a seat at a meeting he would normally have no right to be at. People were easy to predict. Not attending would risk not having an input on the plan decided by those that did, so all the guilds would attend, even the ones not really big enough to be there.
If anything, there might be too many guilds trying to attend, but he was more than happy with that- that would just lend him more credibility, and give him more chances to shake hands with the most important people. And besides, if there were enough people then there would need to be someone to lead and direct the meeting, giving him even more input on a discussion he had no right attending.
Replacing him was what could only be described as his exact opposite. A small lady with curly hair, and a puffy pink dress walked up to the podium, and managed to get up to its height with only a bit of fuss with a step stool.
Lucy’s first thought seeing her was wondering where she got the pink dye so quickly.
“Hello everybody.” Her voice, soft and airy, wasn't one made to carry over a crowd, which of course made it all the more surprising that it did- clearly even to the lady herself, who looked down at the podium in surprise, before smiling and turning back to her audience.
“Hello everybody. My name is Pacilica, I’m the head of the guild that has been building up spawn all day, and this-” She gestured to the purple haired girl who’d followed her, and was standing beside her, “Is Alice, my second in command, who's been helping me set up everything. Now we originally just wanted to make it pretty for everyone, but then we got thinking and said ‘wouldn’t it be nice if we could make spawn an actually nice place? With shops and stuff?’ You all remember the main spawn on the last server right?”
Pacilica wrinkled her nose, as if she’d just smelt something nasty.
“It was horrible- a nasty bombed out warzone, a giant hole in the ground with lava spires up to build height, broken obsidian walls, and all those stone bridges that were the only way to get around. We wanted to make it something a bit better than that! Unfortunately we’re in a bit of a pickle now, aren't we? Hm? Yes we are~. But we’re just going to continue to make spawn better. There’s a lot of manpower suddenly all around, and we can all work together to build shelters for everyone! Isn’t that so wonderful?”
More than a few people were uncomfortable with Pacilica talking to the crowd like she was their kindergarten school teacher, but the prospect of getting somewhere to sleep, and of someone having this whole situation under control, stilled any negative thoughts.
Unfortunately this didn’t last long.
“This whole situation is a tuffy, isn’t it? Some people haven't even had a chance to go and collect food, and sending people out would be dangerous since no one can respawn, which is no good because then people’s tummies would go empty. Luckily for everyone, some people have already gone and gotten us all we need.”
That odd phrasing bought some strange looks from the audience, but Pacilica just smiled sweetly, with enough artificial sweetener to corrode someone’s teeth into nubs,
“We’re going to share our burdens, so that everyone can lift them all together!” Pacilica gave a motherly smile and clasped her hands together. “We’ll set up some booths that we’ll all turn our items into, and it’ll all be distributed evenly, so that everyone gets exactly what they need, and no one will get left behind! If we all help each other there’s nothing we can’t do! Doesn’t that just sound fun?”
Mutters and angry whispers broke out at this, but it was a voice in the back that stole the metaphorical cake.
“BULL SHIT!”
A scream ripped from the crowd, turning every head in the overly cramped gathering, towards the back.
Douglas was forcefully pulling himself up above the sea of people, standing on the shoulders of two others, angrily shaking his shovel towards the center stage. Without the podium, or even the stage, he had to shout for everyone to hear him, but he seemed more than willing to do so.
“BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT! BULLSHIT! WHAT TYPE OF IDIOT DO YOU THINK I AM!?” The man roared like a pissed off bear. “I AIN’T GIVING YOU JACK SHIT!”
Pacilica puffed up in indignation, like a pufferfish, but Alice stole the microphone from the podium.
“Listen, I get that it’s not fair, but look at the green bar under your HP. That’s Stamina. Everything uses Stamina, walking, crafting, swinging a sword- everything! Even just existing burns through it slowly. You have a lot of it, more than enough to take you through a couple days, but once it hits 0 it starts eating your HP instead of Stamina. You starve to death! The only way to replenish it is by food.” Alice gestured around to all the people. “Not everyone left Spawn, not everyone collected food! We need to share if we don’t want people to start starving to death!”
“ALL THE MORE REASON TO NOT LISTEN TO YOU! I COLLECTED ENOUGH FOOD TO FEED MYSELF! IF I GIVE IT UP, AND SPREAD THAT BETWEEN TEN PEOPLE, I’LL STARVE ALONG WITH THEM!”
“That’s why we all need to pitch in, asshole! Because there won’t be enough for everyone if you don’t.”
“SO YOU WANT THE HONEST PEOPLE TO GIVE UP EVERYTHING WHILE EVERYONE ELSE HIDES THEIR SHIT IN THEIR POCKETS AND RAKES IN FREE SPOILS? ALL WHILE YOU LOT SKIM OFF THE TOP? FUCK NO!”
“Look, I get you’re all worried, we are too, but do you see how we need to work together?” Alice ignored Douglas and spoke to the crowd. “Besides, it’s not like we’re wanting to take equipment, just food.”
“Yes we are.” Pacilia took the microphone back from an off guard Alice. “I for one think it would be wonderful if everyone pitched in their weapons so we could outfit a city guard to protect us.”
“THIEVES! THIEVES! YOU’RE OUT TO STEAL OUR WORK, ALL WHILE LINING YOUR OWN POCKETS WHILE YOU’RE AT IT! TO FURTHER YOUR OWN CHANCES OF SURVIVAL!”
“Mr, please calm down.” Pacilica huffed. “I know you might not like it, but this is for everyone’s greater good.”
“OH, AND I’M SURE THE HUGE ASS SLICE THAT WINDS UP IN YOUR HANDS, WHILE THE REST OF US ONLY GET BACK CRUMBS, IS ALSO ‘FOR THE GREATER GOOD’, BUT I DON’T GIVE A SHIT!”
“Now, now, there’s no need to use mean words.”
“OH, FUCK OFF!”
Pacilica’s eyes narrowed, and for half a second, Lucy was sure she could see something past that dainty mask.
“Well like it or not, we’re all in this together. If you’re not willing to help your fellows, then they shall not help you.” She gave him a disapproving look. “If you don’t participate, then Spawn’s services will not be open to you.”
Looking back, with the knowledge of hindsight, this was most likely a bluff, something to make Douglas step down and to try and jostle back some semblance of order. After all, Pacilica didn’t have any real authority outside her guild, and despite the numerous buildings that’d popped up, there weren’t any real ‘services’ at spawn to deny.
Unfortunately, it had the exact opposite effect.
“WELL THEN GOOD RIDDANCE!” Douglas spat, hitting one of the people beneath him. “KEEP YOUR HYPOCRITICAL BULLSHIT TO YOURSELF! I’M OUT!”
Pacilica recoiled, as if physically struck, she opened her mouth to say something, but all that came out was a croak. She seemed completely blindsided by the idea that someone not only disagreed with her, but was willing to actually go against her. She could only watch wide eyed as Douglas dropped down off his human platform, and began forcing his way out of the crowd.
A number of the people around him watched him leave in open wonder, before sending a glance back at the stage. Hesitantly, one by one, they followed after the firebrand, in the open path he’d left in his wake.
“W-Well then…” Pacilica coughed to clear her throat. “Are there going to be any other interruptions?” The prissy pink lady peered at the people like a school teacher, and after a few seconds of no response, she huffed and continued on.
Unfortunately the damage, if it had even been done by Douglas at all, had already been put into peoples’ minds.
Slowly but surely, over the rest of her speech, people began to leave. Those who had experience in classic LiT, and had already gathered materials for themselves. People who didn’t want their chance at survival slimmed down, their work taken from them.
The people who perfect Pacilica’s pretty plan of shared burden depended on, in order to work… just left.
…and who was left to lift the burden?
-Muted Infinity-
The golden sun turned crimson as it dipped across the far western horizon for the second time in less than 24 hours, dying the sky a glorious cacophony of orange, red, and yellow that danced in sweet unison with the remaining blue; a final waltz of death as they both slowly succumbed to the black of night.
Hours had passed since… the incident, and spawn was slowly filling back up, as players returned from their various expeditions that the time shift had allowed them to embark on, but while many were returning, it didn’t even account for half of the number who’d left.
Though how many were still out foraging for materials, how many had taken after Douglas’ decision to strike out on their own, and how many weren’t coming back to anywhere ever again…
…
There was nowhere near the crowd that had been earlier, when everyone had been summoned for the “announcement”.
The announcement…
Just the memory of it threatened to bring bile to her mouth.
Lucy walked numbly through the poorly paved streets of Spawn- though to call them “streets” was simultaneously both a gross overstatement, and incredibly impressive, considering this had been all completely empty less than a 24 hours ago, and the buildings had been sprung up in the metaphorical blink of an eye.
She wasn’t alone, numerous people who hadn’t the courage to head out, sat huddled together on street corners. Others walked about too and fro as if in a daze… just like her.
How… It- It had to be some sort of joke, right? Some hackers must have hijacked the server, and this was all some cruel cruel prank! Or-Or some horrid and wildly unusual marketing scheme that the authorities would be cracking down on!
This- It was- There was no way- There HAD to be another reason that not even a single person who'd gone out had respawned at spawn! P-People were just being more careful!! YEAH! That was it! O-Or the respawn point had been moved as part of the prank!
A-After all there was nowayanyofthiscouldberealatallright?HaHa!HowFunny!Veryfunnyprank!Thiswasaprankitwasn’trealatallITCOULDN’TBE-
Something grabbed her arms and pulled her off to the side, in between two cobblestone huts, and out of earshot. She tried to scream, but a hand clamped around her mouth, sealing it completely as she was dragged further down the alleyway.
Between her already existing panic and fear, and the sudden wave of adrenaline that was threatening to hurl her into a full blown panic attack, she managed to collect her thoughts enough to do what she always thought those damsels in horror films should have done.
She opened her mouth, and bit down. Hard.
Her would-be kidnapper let out a girly screech of pain, and dropped her like a hot coal.
Shaking like a leave in a storm, Lucy ripped her sword off her belt and spun around to face her assaulter who-
“Wha- RUBIE?!”
“Yes, me, Lu!” Rue hissed, nursing her hand. “Ow, fuck, has anyone told you that you bite like a literal bitch?”
“S-Sorry!” Lucy reached out to check the damage, but looked down in shame when Rue recoiled her hand away. “I was panicking, and I didn’t know it was you. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, you and everyone else in this fucking death trap of a game.” Rue scoffed, but couldn’t hold her angry expression at Lucy’s face. She was like a sad puppy. You couldn’t stay mad at a cute puppy. “And that panic wasn’t really helped by captain watermill causing a fuss and storming out.”
Lucy winced, the memories of Douglas marching out of spawn inspiring hundreds to do similar, flirting through her mind. “And he could’ve helped people…”
“What?” Her friend(?) gave her a look of bewilderment. “Wha- No! Lu! He’s actually smart for doing that! He’s probably got the best shot at surviving out of everyone here, with that setup of his. He'd be a fool to throw all that away, and so would you!”
“What do you mean?” Lucy questioned. “I don’t ha-” Only to be cut off as a leather bag was shoved into her face.
“That bag has everything we collected today, and all the meat from the boars we killed. Do not give that up! I can get more, but that’s your lifeline!”
“B-But what about the sharing booths?”
“FUCK the sharing booths!” Rubie hissed. “Lie about what you have. Turn in some of it, but not all. Use that food to keep yourself alive. Stay behind the walls for a few days and train with your sword, until the first wave of panic’s blown over and you're decent with a blade. Then take all the leather and trade it in for better gear.”
Rubie grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her closer, trying desperately to convey the seriousness of the situation.
“That's your game plan, that’s how you survive! Got it?”
“I, uhh-”
“No!” Rubie shook her. “No ‘uhh’, this is where you say yes!”
“y-yes.” Lucy whimpered.
“Good.” The redhead ruffled her hair with a sigh and gave her a reassuring smile. “I’ve gotta go get better materials, and rush to see what starting tech trees have been changed since the original game, people will pay a pretty penny for that info.”
“C-Can I help in any way?” Lucy asked weakly.
“Sure you can.” Rue gave her a wink and mock salute as she began jogging down the back end of the alley. “You can help by staying safe!”
“Wait, Rue! That’s not…”
But the leather thief had already slipped around the corner and out of sight.
“Haaaah.” Lucy sighed, before letting out a weak chuckle. “I never did get a friend request from her, did I?”
Reluctantly trudging her way back out of the alley, and onto the streets, Lucy’s mind wandered.
If… If this was all real… If this was really a “death game” as Rubie said, and If there was a reason the authorities hadn’t broken them all out, even after almost a full 24 hours of the game being up…
“It took me an entire hour just to make a simple starting tool, something Rue did in less than ten seconds… how am I supposed to survive this?”
But she was broken from her train of thought by a soft tug on the hem of her shirt.
“E-Excuse me, miss.”
Lucy looked down to see a young boy, who couldn't have been older than 10.
“H-Have you seen my big sis? She’s tall and blond, and said she’d be back b-before night time with some food.” The young boy sniffled. “B-But I asked the gate people, and they said they ha-haven't seen her.”
“Shhh Shhh, it’s ok!” Lucy crouched down and rubbed the kid’s hair, trying to keep him from crying. “I haven't seen your sister, but I’ll keep an eye out, and tell you if I see her, ok? Can you remember what her username is? It would really help me identify her.”
“I-It’s ‘SunSmasher’, ma’am.” The boy choked back a sob. “B-B-But there were some n-numbers on it that I can’t r-rememner.”
“Shhh Shhh, don’t worry that’s more than enough!” Lucy forced a smile and tried her best to calm him down. “Did your sis tell you to wait somewhere for her?”
The boy nodded.
“Y-Yeah, n-near the sh-sharing booths, but it’s been h-hours and she n-never showed up.”
“I’ll tell you what, why don’t you go back to the booths so that you don’t miss her, while you’re there you can ask them for some food, and if I see her then I’ll send her your way.”
“O-Ok.” The young boy wiped his face with his sleeve and gave her a soft wave as he began walking down the street. “T-Thank you ma’am.”
Lucy waved back and forced a smile, but inside she was being torn up.
She’d seen Rue’s prediction of all the easy materials around spawn being swiped up with her own eyes, back when the two of them were boar hunting. People had been swarming over everything like ants, and it was only after the herd had led them miles upstream that players had become less frequent.
All the “easy food” around spawn was gone, you’d have to venture further out to find new and untouched places… but the further you went from spawn the more dangerous things you encountered…
…
“Hey wait!”
“Huh?” The kid turned and looked at her in confusion as she jogged after him.
“It’s a little late to be out all alone, how about I walk you to the booths?”
“Really?” He looked up at her in childish awe. “Y-You’d do that?”
“Of course.” Lucy smiled and ruffled his hair again.
“It’s no trouble at all.”
-Muted Infinity-
The “sharing booths” as they were called, weren't the happy sight that their name implied. There weren’t any rainbows or bright colors, no ponies and people holding hands while skipping and singing kumbaya.
No, the long chain of booths looked just like the rest of spawn: poorly made and cobbled together with the cheapest material on hand.
“This way! Line up!” A man standing on a small pillar shouted, waving at people to come over. “Once you deposit your items we record your username on paper, tomorrow we’re gonna make copies of the list and send out guards to round up everyone everyone they see who’s not on it! So do yourself a favor, and just hand your stuff in now! It’s all early game junk, anyway!”
Lucy ignored the man, and instead turned her attention to the kid next to her.
“Hey,” She said softly as she crouched down, “Do you see your sister?”
“Nuh-uh.” The boy shook his head. “But that’s where she said to wait.” He pointed to one of the booths at the end of the row. “S-So I’ll go wait there. Thank you ma’am.”
“It was no problem, don’t even mention it.” Lucy smiled sadly as she waved him off.
It was times like this that she wished she had more experience dealing with kids, there were probably a thousand ways she could have handled that better.
“Hey! You! Girl with the blond hair and white shirt! Are you gonna get in line, or what!?”
Said girl ‘with the blond hair and white shirt’ cringed as the pillar man brought the crowd’s attention on her, and waved at him apologetically before making her way over to the stands.
Strangely enough, for an initiative that was supposed to include every player in the game, the lines were startlingly short. Maybe it was just because it had already been running for most of the day, and most people had already gone through?
Either way, the “line” she walked to only had one person in it, and they were done by the time she got to the sharing booth.
The lady manning the booth didn’t even look up from her stack of cheap paper as Lucy approached.
“What’s your username?”
“Uh.” Lucy blinked, taking a moment to process the question, and looked up at the name [LuckyLucy114] that was visibly glowing above her head. “Can’t you see it?”
“Yes, I can see it!” The lady snapped, clearly irritated at what must have been the thousandth time she’d been asked the same question. “I need to know if you plan to change it!”
“Oh, uhm, I mean I might shave off the numbers?”
“Then make sure to do that.” The booth lady sighed with a sound that must have cost her a year of her life. “So, what's your username?”
“Uhm, why-”
“Nevermind!” She hissed as she glanced up, squinting against the sun as she scratched down the name with a piece of coal. “Now just hand over the bag, and scram.”
“My bag?”
“Yes, the bag.” The booth lady groaned. “Ms Pacilica said to collect all items, other than clothes, for redistribution, and ‘all items’ includes backpacks.”
“Sorry, sorry!” Lucy smiled at the lady, trying to defuse the situation as she reached for the bag, but as her fingers brushed the strap, Rubie’s face flashed through her mind.
“Lie about what you have! Turn in some of it, but not all. Use that food to keep yourself alive!”
Keep herself alive, wasn’t that supposed to be the overarching goal here?
She could do what Rubie said, it would be easy. She could transfer most of the items from the bag to her inventory with just a click, and only hand over a fraction of the loot without anyone being the wiser.
But just as she brought up the menu, her mind flashed back to the little boy she’d met on her way here, who might not have anyone to bring him food at all anymore.
Should she really help herself when she could help others?
But even if she did help, her ‘help’ would be distributed between thousands of people, it wouldn’t do much of anything! The whole thing would only work if the majority of people chipped in, and a lot of the players with the most gear had already booked it out of town, like Douglas.
But wouldn’t that mean her contribution was even more important, then?
“Miss?” The counter lady asked impatiently. “Are you alright?”
“Oh, Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, I'm just a bit tired after today.”
Lucy smiled at the booth lady, and made her decision.
She pulled the cheap primitive sword into her inventory, along with a handful of crafting materials, then dumped everything she had into the bag as she handed it over.
…
And for the stacks of tender hog meat she initially gave to the sharing booth, all she got in return from the food line, an hour later, was a single slice of dry apple, and a handful of wheat grain.
-End Chapter-