When I woke up, I was in the hospital clinic in Eastland. Doctor Sherri Williams, a young girl who had gone to vet school and was home for the day when everything went down, was in the room. Next to her, in the uncomfortable chair that every doctor’s office has, was Danny. “Hey, look who’s awake.”
The doctor smiled and patted my arm. I winced. “It’s about time. We were wondering how long you were going to be asleep."
I groaned as I sat up. “How long was I out?” My head was pounding and the air smelt stale.
Danny shrugged before checking his pocket watch, “39 hours?” He loved his watch. Danny had looted it off some mob in the first week or two and it was one of the only clocks that worked. Every digital clock in town had gone down with the rest of the electricity.
“It’s Thursday?”
“Yep.” He gave me a comforting look. It was something Danny was great at doing.
I groaned. “Where are you at?”
Danny cocked his head to the side, “Huh?”
“What level?”
“Oh! Uhh…4% to Level 13. So 12.”
I frowned and checked my own. I was 2% to 13. “I thought you’d be higher.”
“Well…we didn’t go anywhere yesterday. Gave the guys today off as well.”
“Why?” I was confused. Danny was always out there, good weather or bad.
“You were hurt. We’ve been taking shifts so one of us would be here when you woke up.”
I checked my rank: 13,980. I had gone up. This was good. I looked over Danny, “I’m not part of your group. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“You’ve made your independence very clear, Jeremiah. I wish you’d reconsider, but I know you won’t. Still, you’re a part of Eastland even if you aren’t. Now that you’re back to your…gracious self…I’m going to go to the bar.” All of the food that was created prior to the start of this was now useless. It didn't fill up hunger. The alcohol worked just fine though. Whoever started this whole thing gave us that.
I frowned as Danny stood up and went to walk out. He seemed upset. “Wait! Danny…”
He turned to look at me, raising his eyebrows. “Yeah?”
“Thank you.” I gave a half smile as he gave me one right back.
“No problem, man.”
I laid back down and groaned as I fell back asleep.
------------------------------------
I woke up later in the day to a new message.
ZONE CHANGES!
Groaning, I opened up my screen to read the details.
January 15th: 2nd Zone Change and Northern Hemisphere Events
Congratulations on the surviving (82,415,316) players! Please see your map for Zone Change details.
I nodded as I saw the player count. I was right. Roughly 1% of the population remained after 3 months. I opened up my map and looked over what I knew. A player could mostly only see map data for places they had visited before. Eastland County was still Level 1-10. However, Shackleford had gone from 1-10 to 11-20. Additionally, Taylor County, home of the city of Abilene, had gone from 11-20 to 21-30. This was big.
I mused over my options. I hadn’t fought an enemy outside of Eastland in a long time, and never an intentionally high level. I knew the benefits of playing as a solo player, but I knew the drawbacks even better. On top of that, my ability to take damage was lower than most.
If I wandered in Shackleford County and tried to shoot up every Level 11 and 12 I see, odds are that I would pull some Level 16 and die. Despite my experiences in this world so far, death was something I was trying to avoid.
As if knowing what I was thinking, Danny knocked on the door. “Hey, bud.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t call me that.” Danny always seemed to remind me that he was older than me.
“Sorry. Listen, I’m assuming you saw the zone change notification?”
I nodded.
“Great. Me and the guys were thinking about going into Shackleford tomorrow…and I’d like you to come.”
“I’ve already told you-”
“Yeah, yeah. We know. You don’t want to pay the tax and you don’t want to roll for items. Here’s the deal. You won’t have to pay the tax. We’ll split the gold 7 ways and the six of us will tax our shares, you won’t have to.”
“The items?” The deal sounded good to me, but I was curious what his plan here was.
“Same way we do it for us. Class items get rolled on by people who can use them.”
“What about rare ones?”
“Anything rare, epic, or master quality will get rolled on by everyone. It keeps it fair.”
I thought about it for a minute. I knew I wasn’t going to get far into Shackleford on my own. The elite Gnoll had proven that. I looked up to Danny and gave a nod. “This one time.”
Danny grinned, as if winning something. “Great. Just the once. See you at 10am, Jere-bear.”
I scoffed and stepped out of bed. I was already feeling much better and took a look at my profile again. I figured it couldn’t hurt to put a point or two into Strength. I decided to throw 1 into Strength and 1 into Agility and Dexterity respectively.
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
Opening the marketplace, I scanned for decent weapons. I found one. “Viper Pistols (7U) [+5 DEX].” A level 7 uncommon item? This looked to be twice as good as my current set and I found myself looking at the price. I had 1,110 gold and this gun was selling for 750 gold plus the 30% markup for ‘shipping’. 975 gold for these guns. It seemed like a decent investment though, especially if we were going into unknown territory. I thought about waiting and buying them later, but who knew when they were going to be available again? Who knew what price they would be next time?
I tapped my finger on the translucent mental screen and, for a moment, regretted my decision. When the pistols materialized in my hands, however, that regret went away. It was said to come from player Armando H. from Brazil. The pistols had green snake skin handles and tapered off beautifully down the barrel. They looked sharp, accurate, and deadly. I was impressed. If this was a Level 7 item, I wondered what a Level 150 one would look like.
The top players in the world had barely scratched 25. According to the map, certain zones like Manhattan, Downton Chicago, Tokyo, Seoul, and Paris were Level 145-150 zones. While I couldn’t see the map data for everywhere, the game showed the top level areas.
I couldn’t imagine the monsters that may lay there. I checked my loadout one last time before heading back to the rec center, noting that my Quickdraw skill had leveled up as well. Hopefully, I’d be ready for Shackleford.
NAME
Jeremiah, L.
CLASS
Ranger
LEVEL
12 (2%)
GOLD
135
STRENGTH
7
DEXTERITY
20 (13+7)
WISDOM
3
AGILITY
18 (13+5)
CRAFTING SKILLS
Cooking (1)
SPECIAL SKILLS
N/A
ACTIVE SKILLS
Multi-Shot (5), Quickdraw (5)
PASSIVE SKILLS
Tracker (6), Resolve (4)
MAIN-HAND
Viper Pistols (7U)
[+5 DEX]
OFF-HAND
N/A
HEAD
Roughrider Hat (5C)
[+1 DEX, +1 AGI]
CHEST
Ranger Tunic (6C)
[+3 AGI]
LEGS
N/A
BOOTS
Stealth Boots (4C)
[+1 DEX, +1 AGI]
----------------------------------------
Albany, TX - Shackleford County (Oct 1st, 2049)
Micky was enjoying his 9th beer at the bar when Sheriff Graham came in. “Damn it, Micky. You know we put in a curfew.”
“Huh?”
“Everyone got…well…we don’t know what’s going on, but no one can get into their houses. Their cars aren’t working. Everyone’s supposed to meet up at the town hall.”
The bartender, Reynolds, had little interest in whatever was going on. In a town where there was nothing to do but drink, the bartender made more than most. “Graham, let the man drink if he wants to drink.”
“The people are reporting seeing weird things and glowing things and…fuck Reynolds, you too. Everyone down to the town hall…now!” Graham was a big guy, but he seemed oddly small when he was uncertain.
Micky stumbled off his barstool as he was helped up by Reynolds. “Thanks bud.”
“No problem. Can’t let my best customer get hurt now, can I?”
Sheriff Graham rolled his eyes and led the trio outside. As soon as the door opened, a faint growling sound made him cautious. “Y’all hear that? Stay quiet.”
Micky chuckled. “Coyotes coming in…it’s cold outside. I’d come in too.”
Graham shook his head. “It’s not cold. The weather’s actually…perfect.” He snorted. Texas was always fickle with the weather. It'd be perfect one hour and then frozen cold or boiling hot the next.
The growling got louder and Graham decided to take out his pistol. If some rabid animal charged, he didn't want to get bit. As he did so, he glanced down to see a faint yellow glow on the weapon. He focused on it and a small textbox appeared in thin air that read, “Prehistoric Handgun (1C)."
‘Prehistoric’? What the fuck? This gun was the latest and greatest in West Texas law enforcement. Well, not quite. It was still an expensive weapon.
The confusion Graham was facing about this whole situation distracted him long enough to allow the previously unseen growling creatures to appear just ten yards away. Graham looked up to see a pack of 6 rat creatures carrying a variety of work tools. “Who in the hell…”
Reynolds’ eyes shot open as he ran back into the bar. He re-emerged just seconds later with a shotgun from behind the bar counter, the creatures not having taken another step.
Micky laughed. “It says Level 3, Sheriff. What’s going on?” His drunken stupor was not entertaining any day of the week, even less so today.
Reynolds raised the shotgun as Graham raised the pistol. Graham shouted out to the pack. “Identify yourselves!”
One of the rat creatures, black furred and carrying a farming sickle, gave a smile. “Sickletail, at your service.”
Graham’s confusion was only increased when Micky let out a whistle. “Ohhh shit, Sheriff. Best be careful with that one. Says he’s a Level 7 e-light.”
Reynolds seemed to be squinting in the darkness, the faint streetlights illuminating the 3 4 foot tall creatures. “Elite…it says Elite, Mick.”
Graham groaned in frustration. What the hell was going on? “Listen pal, just go away and no one gets hurt.”
Sickletail gave a chuckle. “Sorry, human. This village has been identified as having a nice iron deposit underneath it. I’ll be taking it from hear on out.” The rats behind him hissed in agreement.
The Sheriff shook his head. “You have to the count of three to put the weapons down.” He tried his radio again, in the hopes that it would work this time. It didn’t. “One….two….” A bead of sweat rolled down his face.
It wasn’t until the creatures behind Sickletail charged forward that Graham fired. Bang! Bang! Bang! Pistol and Shotgun fire rained down on the charging creatures, causing green blood to splash onto the asphalt road. One of them went down and the bright “LEVEL 1!” that appeared in front of him caused Graham to recoil. As he did, the creatures closed the gap. Micky smashed a bottle of whisky over the head of one of the bigger ones, which then turned and ran him through with a spear. Reynolds fired twice more, taking another one down. He seemed equally taken aback by the notification, and equally dead when he was stabbed with two pitchforks.
Graham knew what to do. He bolted. He ran as far and as fast as he could, shooting behind him along the way. “What in the hell?!”