The screen lingered on the game’s emblem, a momentary void that allowed Theodore’s thoughts to drift. From the periphery of his focus, the nocturnal symphony of the apartment played on—the soft rustle of his mother’s movements, the indistinct thumps from the neighbors, and the muffled fury of the snowstorm’s crescendo outside.
Theodore’s eyelids grew heavy with the thought of surrendering to sleep’s call. By dawn, he could be canvassing the city’s professional core for any openings in the legal field. This pragmatic plan wove through his musings, juxtaposed against the anticipated monotony of beginner quests: the errands, the deliveries, the inevitable rat cull. Truth be told, he had a predilection for the adrenaline rush of first-person shooters over the methodical grind of MMORPGs. Yet, he wasn’t a stranger to this world; he knew his way around experience points, hit points, and the roles that keep a party thriving.
Just as his interest teetered, a sudden bloom of light banished the gloom—the pixelated reality of “Rakuen” unfurled before him.
There he stood, Theo, in the midst of a bustling village square. The landscape was a tapestry of verdant foliage, quaint homesteads, and a motley of players each embroiled in their own sagas. Nearby, an NPC clad in armor that caught the sunlight sported the unmistakable yellow punctuation of a quest waiting to be claimed.
As Theodore’s hand weighed the option of diving in or powering down, the controller vibrated—a tactile whisper beckoning him to the present. The screen’s silent village was broken by a prompt from another player, a mage mirroring his level one status, who seemed intent on communicating something of importance. “Sound would help,” he acknowledged, reaching for the refuge of his headphones. Once donned, the ambient life of the village enveloped him, a symphony of medieval fantasy that resonated in stark contrast to the silent snowfall beyond his window.
Theodore’s screen remained dark, save for the pulsating game logo, a pause just long enough to let his mind wander to the sound of the snowstorm’s whisper and the nocturnal shuffles of life around his apartment.
As he contemplated the merits of diving into the grind or just calling it a night, a stream of Japanese filtered through his headphones—DestinyBlade was on a tear about something. A game tooltip flashed up, a lifeline in a sea of linguistic chaos:
Player’s language (DestinyBlade) detected as JAPANESE. Enable automatic translation?
Grateful, Theodore thumbed the ‘X’ with a swift tap. Silence reigned for a heartbeat before a babel of voices, now all in crisp English, filled his ears. DestinyBlade was already drifting away, grumbling about the overcrowding of rookies. “Gotta get out of the kiddie pool, stat.”
“Talk about a game-changer,” Theodore whispered with a grin. The real-time language translation was a trick straight out of sci-fi. Then again, AI had been bossing around sectors back on terra firma for years. Yet here he was, in a world of neural nets and machine learning, still scratching out a living, while his PlayStation 5 chugged along like a relic.
Theodore nudged Theo aside, leaning him against a virtual building. He navigated to the settings—his old PS5 required a downgrade on the visual fireworks. Without the bells and whistles of VR, his gameplay might lack the tactile wonder, but his controller—a trusty old friend—offered a different kind of finesse.
In “Rakuen”, borders were passé; every player shared the same digital globe. Starter zones were peppered everywhere, buzzing with newbies. That was probably what had DestinyBlade’s armor in a knot.
The developers of “Rakuen” had opted for fun over fuss. Monsters didn’t require a messy dissection; they dropped loot like pinatas. And the UI? A dream for those into selling or smithing.
Theo stood there, a digital Adonis with a “Rough Wolfhide” vest (defense: +1) and bare feet. His weapon, a “Crude Club” (damage: 2-3), felt good in his virtual hands. Theodore ran through his moves—defend, leap, evade, and the all-important smack. The barbarian dance emote was a hoot: a stomp here, a chest beat there, and a roar for good measure.
The same button that dealt the smacks also let him scoop up treasures and banter with NPCs. “Time to hit the ground running,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
“You sound like you’re ready to take on the world,” Miko, a blonde avatar, chimed in. Oops, his mic was hot.
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“Just revving up for when I score my first mount,” he replied with a chuckle, mimicking a rider’s posture. “Gotta be primed for the big leagues, you know?”
Miko’s laugh floated back as she moved on. “Keep that energy, cowboy. You’ll need it!”
At the shiny-armored quest-giver, Theo bagged his first mission: City Hall registration. The bounty? Ten whole XP, a map, and a choice of crafting skills. He picked “Mining” in a heartbeat—less hassle than “Skinning” or “Herbalism”, and besides, he had no patience for the crafting grind.
In the municipal heart of City Hall, Theo claimed a complimentary tool from the quartermaster:
Aged Pickaxe
Tool | Two-Handed | Mining Implement
Damage: 1-2
Durability: 9 / 10
“It’s got history,” the quartermaster admitted with a wry smile. “But history doesn’t mine much these days.”
Theodore chuckled at the NPC’s dry humor, a stark contrast to the earlier muddled translations. “And if it gives up the ghost?” he mused aloud.
“Blacksmiths hereabouts can mend it for a price. Mind you, every mend shaves a bit off its resilience. Once it’s spent, it’s just another relic.”
“So, the old gear grind,” Theo mused, nodding to himself. “A constant churn for better, sturdier equipment...”
The quartermaster shrugged, a canned gesture, and turned back to his ledgers. Theodore guided his avatar outside, his thoughts drifting back to the sophisticated AI orchestrating these virtual interactions.
As he roamed the hall, inspiration struck. He took a gulp from his now-tepid coffee and let Theo’s persona wash over him: “To the barbarian ways, I pledge my days...”
His character’s lips fumbled the sync, but the intent was clear—Theo was chattering away. It made Theodore wonder if his non-VR gameplay was obvious to others.
But the real kicker was the faulty controller button, the one that made Theo behave like he was on a caffeine buzz—doors slamming, items knocked over, and spontaneous chats with anyone he bumped into.
Theo was a whirlwind of jumps, rolls, and impromptu jigs, which, to Theodore’s surprise, earned him an unexpected reward:
Congratulations! You’ve unlocked a new skill: Dance.
Initially, Theodore was amused by the bewildered stares and comments—“Is this your first rodeo?“ or “Who let this guy loose?”—but the charm quickly wore off with the snarkier jabs. “This controller’s going to the shop first thing,” he resolved, squinting against the game’s dim lighting.
Theodore’s grind in ‘Rakuen’ mirrored a classic RPG journey. He found himself on an all-too-familiar mission from Mr. Carter, the ever-ubiquitous mayor: the quintessential rat hunt.
The game’s early generosity with XP hinted at a tactic to hook newbies. Theodore’s routine became a blur of rabbit skirmishes, aiding virtual lumberjacks, and delivering messages across the pixelated landscape. Hours vanished as he whacked away at virtual rodents, shooed off wolves, and tackled menial errands. His mining escapades were limited to a solitary copper vein, revealing a mundane process: hit, watch, listen, repeat. The durability bar on his tool, however, was all too quick to diminish.
Start mining “Copper Ore”?
Mining was as thrilling as watching paint dry. Theodore, exploiting his controller’s sticky button, automated the process and wandered off for a coffee refill. He returned to find his avatar, Theo, still rooted in place—a limitation those in sleek VR capsules didn’t have to endure.
The loot was laughable: a single copper ore, a testament to his low “Luck” stat. The “Aged Pickaxe” now read:
Durability: 8 / 10.
Dragging himself back to the town, Theodore’s spirits were dampened, yet he was adamant about hitting that next level before calling it a night. Exhaustion crept in, but determination held strong.
The jump to Level 2 came courtesy of an overzealous rabbit near the city wall, which Theodore tackled more out of spite than for XP. The critter had been a thorn in his side. The meager XP gain, however, brought a peculiar satisfaction:
You’ve reached Level 2!
Strength: +2.
Attribute Points: +1.
Skill Points: +1.
Yawning mightily, Theodore’s attention flickered back to the game at a curious sight—a pickaxe lying beside the fallen rabbit. This one boasted a design far from the norm: a lengthy spike on one end, a blunt hammerhead on the other, and runes etched along a mysterious purple handle.
A pop-up interrupted his inspection:
Pickaxe
Unidentified Item.
Identification Cost: 100 Crystals.
The prospect of a magical item was initially thrilling, but reality quickly sank in. A hundred crystals equaled a hundred dollars—far beyond his meager in-game earnings. Even considering the possibility of buying crystals felt like folly. After all, it was just a pickaxe, albeit a fancy one.
“Hey, I’ll give you fifty crystals for that,” a voice broke through his headphones, brusque and to the point. It was Invincible Gladiator, another player who seemed to have materialized out of thin air. Theodore nearly missed the offer as his character unexpectedly darted off.
“Wait! A hundred!” Invincible Gladiator called after him.
Theodore, in a mix of disbelief and desperation, countered, “How about one fifty?”
“Deal!” Invincible Gladiator agreed instantly.
The trade window appeared, dividing the screen. Invincible Gladiator’s offer of 150 crystals sparkled on one side.
Theodore, about to confirm the trade, watched in horror as his character broke into a dance and bolted. The trade window vanished, and a string of expletives filled his headphones. Regaining control, he was greeted with a daunting message:
Invincible Gladiator has added you to their blacklist.
In a burst of virtual rage, Invincible Gladiator launched an attack on Theo.