“Glad that’s over,” he sighed, dropping his shoulders.
“What is our next objective, Alan?”
He looked up at the crescent moon, then checked the time on his menu screen: 8:15 p.m.
“We still need a map and the location of the Shooting Stars’ guild, but we’ll handle that tomorrow. First, we need a place to stay tonight.”
And who knows if I'll be able to afford it. I only have 200 gold left.
“Do users need to sleep inside the Novus too?” Ashley asked, not taking her eyes off the path.
“Yes, it’s the same as eating. Humanity must never forget what makes us fragile beings.”
Speaking of imperfections...
Alan observed the surrounding people. Women looked stunning, wearing makeup and revealing clothes that accentuated their curves, while men appeared gallant, with perfect physiques and handsome features.
I feel like an ugly duckling among beautiful swans. So, if you could change your appearance any way you liked, would you do it? I suppose these people have already answered that question for me.
He glanced at a handsome couple, indeterminate in gender, holding hands and discussing their dinner plans. Their voices didn’t give away a clear gender either.
These model-like people make me feel jealous. I’d like to walk alongside a cute girl too, you know!
He glanced at Ashley, who was walking with a swaying hip motion.
Yaaaaaassss!
“Ashley, you’re perfectly blending in with the other users now!”
“Thanks, Alan. I could replicate every one of the waitresses' mannerisms and their way of speaking.”
“Yes, I noticed! I mean... Good job.”
Is it considered evil that I taught an advanced AI to catwalk? Of course not! Just look at her! It suits her perfectly!
“Alan, what is that?” She suddenly pointed at a purple light soaring in the sky.
The surrounding people looked up too.
“It’s someone's Flying Mount!” a man exclaimed. “It looks huge! Make space before it lands here. Go!”
The residents of Unus took caution and left space at the center of downtown, where a tacky monument of the current mayor stood proudly.
The ball of fire and violet stardust halted in midair and began to descend slowly. It was a huge winged, black, chubby cat. Its wing flaps blew the hair of the people around it and made the windows of nearby establishments shake.
Its impatient riders then jumped down: a serious, stoic bulky man, a grim, tired-looking young man, and a smirking girl. The three were clad in white and black uniforms and blue cloaks and seemed to be searching for someone as their mythical beast finally landed, quietly hissing.
A girl next to Alan recognized their emblem immediately. “They’re from Shooting Stars.”
“You’re right,” the guy next to her said. “But why would they come here? This is literally the last place they’d visit.”
Alan’s heart raced. Astrid must have sent them! She must have checked my location on her Friend List.
“Hey, Shooting Stars! Here!” Alan waved at them, but Ashley quickly pulled him by the arm.
“Alan, wait. Something is wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“Signals, messages. The system is bombarding me with all kinds of information that I barely understand.”
What’s she talking about?
The group's girl spoke first, grinning. “Hi! I’m Marissa Laflamme, nice to meet you, Alan Warden!”
See? I knew it.
“So you know who I am? Great! Listen, I was wondering if you could give us a ride to where Astrid Bradford is? It’s important that I speak to her.”
“Oh, we know everything about you, dear. That’s why we’re here!”
“Finally, some good luck. Come on, Ashley, let’s go,” Alan stepped forward, but his partner remained still in her spot. What is wrong with…?
Alan heard someone approaching him. He turned around and found the tallest of the three guild members staring at him.
“Come with us, Alan Warden,” the man said, grabbing his arm.
A cracking sound was heard.
“Goddammit!” Alan cried, falling to his knees, startling the guild member and the surrounding people.
“What did that man do?”
“I think he broke his arm.”
The surrounding people stared at Alan, finally noticing what made him worth searching for.
“Is he level 5? That’s impossible.”
“Yeah, even if he was living under a rock...”
“Hey, maybe it’s a contagious bug! Don’t get near him!”
“That would explain why Shooting Stars is looking for him! He will be taken straight to quarantine or something.”
“Does that mean he’s a bugged fugitive?”
The crowd stepped back, looking at him like the originator of a plague.
“What the hell are you doing, Oscar!” the lanky Shooting Star shouted from his spot. “We’re supposed to bring him alive! Who knows where he’ll respawn if you kill him with your stupidly large hands!”
“I-It’s not my fault that he’s weak as shit!” Oscar replied, lifting Alan off the ground and carrying him on his shoulder.
What the hell is happening?! This sudden reunion has something weird about it! It’s more like a random enemy encounter!
“Hey, Shooting Stars,” Alan spoke, feeling nauseous, “why does this feel like a kidnapping?!”
“Because it is?” Marissa said, chuckling.
“Alan!” Ashley called, trying to reach out to him, but Marissa grabbed her by the shoulder.
“Don’t worry about him, he’ll be fine. Matthew here is the best healer in the guild, so he’ll patch up whatever that brute Oscar accidentally does to your friend. Unfortunately, we only had one seat available.”
Without an opportunity to get away, Ashley was mortally stabbed in the back.
Drops of blood stained the paved ground.
The residents of Unus Town only observed without a glimpse of pity on their faces. But for Alan, that was his first taste of death inside the system. Watching his only ally drown in her own blood reminded him of the outside world, where real-life time passed slower, but with no room for error. Where there was no respawn system. Where one mistake meant the end.
The security videos that Isabella had shown to him flashed in his mind and almost made him puke.
Dammit! Focus, Alan, she's not truly dead! She'll respawn in the Renovatio Caves since we never reached a new checkpoint in this place.
"Ashley!" Alan cried, unable to escape his captor's grasp. "Listen, reunite with Smaio and stay there!" he shouted at the girl whose HP bar was quickly depleting. "And don't come searching for me, you hear me?! I'll come back for you!"
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“Greetings, oh great, William, The Hall Keeper! Good job keeping this building safe!” Marissa shouted once arriving at the main hall, where a 7-feet tall man in his thirties awaited with two other guilders by his side.
“I’m not in the mood right now, brat,” he said, grunting. “Is that the one?” he asked after Oscar brought Alan down.
In front of them was the monument of a lion made of marble, silently snarling at every visitor.
"That's right! This is our brave, all-powerful, guild founder in person!" Marissa said while making a mocking bow, which made William grunt.
“You have done your part. Now go away."
"Fine, fine. I was getting hungry anyway. Let’s go, darling," she said to Matthew, who followed her without looking back.
Oscar grabbed Alan's arm and forcibly made him touch the emblem below the lion's monument. A blue light showed that something had been activated, and a system message popped up in Alan's line of vision.
* New Checkpoint! *
Londorus City
Shooting Stars Headquarters
Alan read it with an appalled expression on his face.
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Oh, no…
"Is it done?" William asked gruffly at Oscar, who nodded and stepped back. "Good. Hey, Alan Warden, do you know where we are?"
What’s with this condescending tone of voice?
Alan glared at the man. “Londorus... Shooting Stars Headquarters.”
William snickered. “This is our PVP area, kid. Where we can have all the fun we want. Members only.” He crouched to whisper in his ear. “And you’re one of us, right?”
Before Alan could frown at him, William quickly rose and stomped on his face.
From Oscar's point of view, the smashed head of Alan got blurred and disappeared quickly in a display of lights and glimmer.
"The job is done, I'm going," Oscar said, disgusted, as Alan’s pixelated silhouette started reappearing in front of the statue.
William clicked his teeth. "Why? I only told Marissa to go away because you know she’s always being a nuisance! Don't you want to kill him at least a couple of times? Fine, more for us! Pussy…"
Alan got revived again in front of them and quickly jumped back, crashing against the monument. "What the actual hell?! Why are you doing this?! I'm part of this guild, you know?! Where's Astrid?!"
William loudly exhaled. "If you hadn't opened your mouth... I could have been lenient with you,” he said, before sucker-punching Alan, easily decapitating him.
1. * * * * *
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4. * *
5. *
6.
83 minutes had passed. Word of Alan's arrival traveled through the other members of the guild until a third of them reunited in the main hall, bringing alcohol and snacks, and forming a circle to act as a ring.
Alan could be seen in the center, fists in a defensive stance, his face all bloody. He dashed forward against his opponent to attempt what they had forced him to do: ‘Get a clean hit on any of us, and you can go.’
The smirking Shooting Star in front of him twirled like a ballerina and made him trip. The crowd laughed and cheered as Alan stood up and turned around to try again. Huh?! Where did he go?!
"Hey, Ghost!” his opponent said at his back, before applying an arm lock on him. “Do you need a hand?!"
The collective laughter erupted after seeing Alan's detached limb on the ground. What the hell is happening here?! he thought seconds after reviving, glaring at his next opponent who was asking the crowd to cheer for him. I refuse to believe that Astrid would approve of this!
Although the damage to his body had been reset, his mind was starting to falter. Alan could be seen squinting and gasping for air, although he was breathing through newly rendered lungs.
"Hey, Ghost, you don’t look so well!” his new opponent said, making a spear appear from his inventory. “Here, I’ll give you an advantage. Take it.”
Alan knew it was a bluff, but rushed to grab the weapon anyway until an invisible force prevented him from even touching it. Alan, you idiot...
You do not have the required
level to use this weapon!
The group burst with laughter, and the guild member kicked Alan in the jaw, making him fall backward. “Sorry, sorry! I couldn’t resist," the man sneered. "Here, I’ll give you a chance this time. No joking. I’ll just stay still, I promise!”
Alan snickered and spat blood over the guy’s boots. “Why didn’t you dodge that?”
The man remained silent, wincing, before furiously kicking Alan in the stomach, getting rid of some of the bloodstains. “How weak,” the guy muttered while returning to his spot in the crowd, crossing eyes with a girl, drinking from a bottle of wine. "Amelia, why don't you try it?"
"Is it a good way to relieve stress?" she asked after gulping.
"A good way indeed!"
"Fine." She finished her bottle and strolled to Alan, who was still respawning.
Alan heard the sound of high heels stopping in front of him, but when he looked up, he could only see a blurred silhouette towering over him, and a small red glimmer coming from it as if it was the eye of a demon.
"Stand up," the young woman ordered, putting her hands on her hips, glaring.
Although Alan looked like collapsing at any moment, he instinctively took a fighting stance before his sight finally focused on the glimmering red jewel, encrusted in the choker necklace in front of him. His eyes then focused on the owner, a girl his age with a curvy figure, wearing a long, black, thigh-high slit dress, with long fiery-red hair that reached her hips.
"I have a question for you, Alan Warden,” she whispered. “Where have you been all this time?"
"I…"
"I asked,” she started saying, while her hand emanated a red aura. “Where the hell have you been this whole time?! Fire Crafting, Dragonbreath!"
Flames burst from her palm and scorched him in an instant, forcing a mage from the crowd to cast a force shield a fraction of a second before the fire reached them. “Dammit, Amelia, watch it!”
As soon as Alan started regenerating, Amelia decapitated him with her open palm.
"While we were working our asses off making this guild a top ranker, what were you doing, huh?!" she shouted, not waiting for his silhouette to take human form, stabbing him in what seemed to be the chest. "And what do you do when you finally decide to show up?! Steal from Lord Marco?! Did you think you would get away with this?!"
"How many times has she killed him already?" A guild member asked another, who shrugged.
"I've lost count. Eight, nine times?"
"That's enough, Amelia," a thunderous voice made itself heard from the hall's entrance.
The crowd made way and saluted him. "Welcome back, Lord Marco."
Amelia made a curtsy in front of him, grinning warmly. Her right hand was still stained with Alan's blood. "Hi, Marco!"
The man grabbed her by the chin. "Were you punishing him on my behalf? How cute."
Amelia blushed immediately. "I could do it all night if you ordered me to."
"No, sweetheart, it's my turn to speak to this… man."
Alan’s body was still covered in pixels when he had Marco in his field of vision. Is this the guy whose name I’ve been hearing this whole time?
Marco appeared to be in his mid-twenties, a man of pale skin, black hair, and golden eyes, wearing an elegant black business suit. Disgustingly handsome and irritatingly charismatic. I wonder how many times he has changed his features to look like that.
"We finally met, Alan Warden. My name is Marco Souza, the true First Officer of Shooting Stars." Following his words, the surrounding people cheered and got silent once he made a gesture with his hand. "Or that's what I would like to say because, since this morning, someone has usurped my job."
Alan could barely sneer. "Are you saying I did it?"
"That's what opportunists do when given the chance,” the man spoke in a soft tone of voice. “They usurp, lie, steal… Like what you did today. Not only did you snatch away my position in the guild, but you also stole my paycheck. 100,000 gold... Did you think you could get away with it? Did you think you could just walk through these halls and everyone would call you leader after all this time? That effortlessly, you’d take command when everyone else has paid in blood and sweat to rise through the ranks?”
"Yeah, show him, Lord Marco!"
"Make him pay!"
"Pal…" Alan began, returning to a boxing stance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about..."
Marco stared at Alan thoughtfully before shortening the distance in a second, grabbing him by the neck and lifting him off the ground. A cracking sound was heard.
"Huh, I broke his neck." Marco patiently waited for the system to respawn Alan while speaking. "I don’t have proficiency in elemental magic, you see, I can only cast the most basic of spells, such as this... Lesser Fire Crafting..." He started casting, as flames emanated from his palm. "Blaze." Alan’s body got incinerated in a matter of seconds, barely leaving him time to scream. “What was the most basic ice spell called?” Marco asked his followers.
“That would be ‘Chill’, sir.”
“Oh, right. Let me help you fight that heat, Alan. Lesser Ice Crafting, Chill… And now something that will shock you. Lesser Lightning Crafting, Zap.”
Alan’s body fumed before collapsing and being reborn again, while everyone present stood silent. Not a single member was amused by the punishment anymore, but they did not take their eyes off as if it was their duty.
"That son of a…" Amelia whispered after watching Alan stand up for the thirtieth time.
“Hey, Marco Souza!” Alan cried, displaying anger for the first time since the 'challenge' started. “I didn’t steal from you. This is a mistake!”
Marco chuckled while staring deep into his eyes. “As I was saying, I'm not an elemental mage. I specialize in dark magic. I’m a warlock, you see. We like to mess with our opponents’ minds and inflict them with pain that the best of armors can't stop. Allow me to show you...”
Marco started channeling mana.
That looks like it’ll take him a long ass time!
Alan pulled out the only weapon in his inventory, his rusty sword, and launched himself forward, but Marco got out of his sight.
The next thing Alan saw was Marco’s palm.
“Mayor Dark Conjure..."
“Stop!”
“Slumbermare…”
* * * * *
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*
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*
A scene unraveled in Alan’s mind. A picture of something he did not want to think through.
Please don’t!
The Santa Maria's white corridors, stained with blood...
I don't want to see it!
And small drone units mopping the floor, removing every trace of ruin. But the stench remained...
I refuse to believe it!
Automatons carrying bodies...
Please, just stop!
And throwing them into the dark coldness of space.
Don’t show me this! Did you think I hadn’t thought about it?! Of course, I did, I’m not stupid! But I refuse to believe that things developed in that way!
Another vision of an automaton, engulfed in shadows, with red electronic eyes, entering the cryo-chambers.
No, no, no, no, no!
Standing in front of a sleeping pod, where a blonde teenager rested. Was that Astrid's pod?
Marco, are you seeing this?!
The automaton stepped into the light, carrying a knife, revealing it wore Ashley's face.
Because I hope you’re enjoying the show, asshole! That’s what I’ve been dealing with for the last eight real-life months! So while you enjoyed your stay here, acting like a goddamn mafia boss, I was out there, making sure your asses remained glued to your backs, you prick!
* * * * *
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*
“MARCO, ARE YOU OKAY?!” Amelia cried out to the unconscious Warlock, who had suddenly collapsed.
Marco sat down slowly, still shaken, before locking eyes with the smirking, sweaty guy kneeling in front of him.
Alan sneered, "If what that redhead said is true, and Shooting Stars are at the top of the world, I don't believe for a second that you made it possible!"
"What?" Marco grunted, standing up.
Amelia watched as he clenched his fists. “Marco…”
"I bet it was all thanks to Astrid's effort, and you were just along for the ride!" Alan continued. "I bet she whipped you lazy bums daily until she shaped you all into elite warriors!"
Grunts of discontent and promises of making him suffer were heard, but Marco silenced them all with a hand gesture, smirking. "Do you know what we used to call you before meeting your stupid face? We nicknamed you ‘Alan, the Ghost’. We joked you were invisible, or that you had died and your name was just a glitch on the Guild’s member list. So how could you know how we rose to the top if you've never been here?"
"To everyone gathered here!" Alan shouted, still too weak to stand. "Your beloved Lord told you I stole his paycheck, right? Do any of you have a 'pickpocket' ability? If so, use it and see what you can get from me. Spoilers, I don't have it! Just think about it. How could I take money from him if I wasn’t even here?! You call it a paycheck, right?! That means there's someone in charge of the guild's vault! How could I, a pathetic level 5, steal it then, huh?! Think for yourselves for at least one second, you morons!"
Alan scanned the crowd, desperately looking for someone nodding or whispering, someone who was finally reflecting on his words. But all the guild members' lips were sealed, and their gaze remained unapologetically cold.
"Even if that's true," Amelia spoke up, "that doesn't justify you snatching away Lord Marco's position as First Officer!"
"Yeah, even if you're the guild's founder, what makes you think you can come here and steal his rank after playing around somewhere else!"
"We don't like deserters, especially those who weren't here during the guild's hard times!"
"Try to defend yourself from that, Ghost," Marco said, smirking.
They know, Alan thought, glancing at Amelia's mocking grin. All these people should know Marco is wrong, they just don't care.
Alan gritted his teeth, glaring at the initiator of it all. "After what you saw inside my mind, do you still want to continue with this charade?"
"What I saw doesn't concern me." Marco shrugged. "As I see it, those images were nothing more than the fractured psyche of a shadow of a man."
"Wow," Alan said, raising his eyebrows. "I can now see that Astrid didn't hire you for your wits..."
Marco chuckled, raising a hand and engulfing himself in a black aura. "Greater Dark—"
An explosion shook the building.
Something crashed through the ceiling at high speed, cracking the tiled floor. In front of them stood a black lion, which folded its white wings to let its rider get down. Alan first heard heeled boots stroll towards them. The moonlight entered through the breach in the ceiling and shone on a blonde girl wearing a blue formal military uniform. Her blue eyes looked like two orbs of dry ice.
Wait… is that…?
“A-Astrid…” Alan muttered as soon as he met her gaze. Seeing her familiar face was more than comforting. “Wow…” He chuckled, as he gradually lost his balance.
You look damn good… he thought, before blacking out.