The sign outside the bar read NICK’S LOUNGE in blue neon, but a better name would have been NICK'S MONASTERY or NICK’S TOMB. There were at least eight other guys inside with me, but you wouldn’t know it—the place was as quiet as a coffin. No music, no conversation, not even the tinkling of ice.

I spent my evenings at Nick's because of the cheap beer and free Wi-Fi, and after taking my usual stool, I opened a browser to GameCasts.com. The bartender, Nikolas “Nick” Pappas, set down a glass of Guinness, and I pushed over a five-dollar bill.

A gamecast is a video of a game session, and at GameCasts.com, subscribers pay to watch their favorite gamers tackle new adventures. I clicked on Fantasy and scrolled through the different genres, from JRPGs to 2-D platformers. At the bottom of the list was the least popular option: Roguelikes. Most gamers hate roguelikes because of the difficulty and stress, but I loved them dearly, and I'd spent thousands of hours mastering them.

I clicked the Roguelikes link and held my breath as the leaderboard came up. Then I sighed in relief. My screencast, The Adventures of El Gato, was still at the top position and my subscriber count had risen to 2,781. This was tiny compared to gamecasts in other genres, but for me, it was just fine.

I did some mental math as I sipped my dinner. If each subscriber paid five dollars a month and the web site took half, I’d make just under seven thousand dollars a month. If my gamecast stayed at number one until June, I’d be able to afford college tuition. Then I’d quit my job at the diner and never spend another evening at Nick’s.

While I sat mesmerized by the subscriber count, I heard the distinct sound of a throat being cleared. I looked up to see Nick glaring at me. His eyes were dark and intense, and I could never tell if he was plotting murder or just wanted to talk. I lowered my laptop screen.

“Yeah?”

He jerked his head to the right and spoke in an accented whisper. “Lady at the end wants to talk to you.”

The idea of a woman in Nick’s wasn’t unheard of, but the thought of a woman chatting up a regular was impossible. I scanned Nick’s face, but there was no twinkle in his eyes.

“Know what she wants?”

“You’re in your twenties, she’s in her thirties. Things happen.”

I nodded as though things happening was a possibility, but I could guess what this was about. Since my parents died, I’d been hassled by debt collectors at least twice a week. It was only a matter of time before they followed me to Nick’s.

“I have high standards, Nick. You know that. Tell her I can do better.”

Nick raised a folded bill in his hairy fingers. “She paid good money for an introduction. If you don’t talk to her, you might not be welcome back.”

I gave Nick my most withering look, but he didn’t seem to care. If anything, his glare grew more intense. I sighed and headed to the other end of the bar.

⚔

While bussing tables, I’d seen countless women like the one seated in the corner. Thin and pale, she wore black-framed glasses and a gray sports jacket over a salmon shirt. She looked more like a lawyer than a debt collector.

I put on my blandest smile and extended my hand. “I’m Dylan.”

She gave my hand a quick squeeze. Cold fingers, strong grip. No wedding ring.

“I’m Jocasta. I hear you’re a gamer.”

I blinked. I never told anyone at Nick's about my side hustle. “I don’t play a lot of games, but I’m good at the ones I play.”

“What about roguelikes?”

I blinked again. There’s a region of the male brain that derives immense pleasure from boasting to women. That part of my brain hadn’t felt any heat since tenth grade, but now it lit up like a bonfire.

Without invitation, I sat next to Jocasta and leaned close enough that our shoulders touched. She smelled faintly of orchids.

“I've beaten every roguelike there is, including the original Rogue. My gamecast, The Adventures of El Gato, happens to be Number One.”

"You named your gamecast after that corny television show? The one with the pirate?"

I clenched and unclenched my teeth. El Gato had been a retired buccaneer who fought tyranny in 19th-century Mexico, and I'd practically memorized every episode of the TV show. Everyone mocked it because of the stilted dialogue, but Sterling Caine's portrayal of the hero was impeccable. Cunning, debonair, and absolutely fearless.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"It's my favorite show in the world. Whenever I start a fantasy game, I always play as a rogue named El Gato. So far, we're undefeated."

“Well, I have a roguelike that no one has ever beaten. I'd like you and El Gato to play it. Interested?”

I recalibrated my opinion. Jocasta had to be a sales or marketing exec at a game publishing company. They needed publicity, so she wanted me to play her game on my gamecast. I wasn’t sure how she’d tracked me to Nick’s, but I supposed this was part of a celebrity’s life. I was, after all, numero uno.

“I might have some time to play your game. What’s it called?”

“Realm of Shadows.”

“Never heard of it. Does it run on Windows? Mac?”

“It doesn’t run on a traditional platform. It can only be played by someone wearing a Striba suit.”

She said this with perfect composure, her solemn eyes locked onto mine. But she had to be joking. In addition to being illegal in NATO countries, Striba suits were ridiculously expensive. I’d read about a company in the United Arab Emirates renting out Striba suits and neurosurgeons for a hundred grand a day, and they only stayed in business for a month. In America, universities could own Striba suits if they had legal permits, but private possession was a federal crime.

“You’d sell more copies if the game ran on Windows.”

“Sales aren't important and the platform isn’t my choice. As I said, Realm of Shadows can only be played by someone in a Striba suit.”

“If you don’t care about sales, why do you need someone to beat it?”

“A hacker stole billions of dollars from my organization. I intend to get it back.”

I leaned back and studied this woman, who I’d thoroughly misjudged. Striba suits, roguelikes, and billions of dollars? Jocasta wasn’t an executive—she was a lunatic. I glanced at the lounge door and thought about leaving, but then I turned back. I wasn’t going to let a little thing like insanity stand between me and a pretty woman with a roguelike.

“How is playing this game going to get your money back?”

“It's... complicated.” Jocasta reached into the satchel at her feet and withdrew a carafe of a dark liquid. “But first, we drink. What you see here is slivaka—the real stuff, not the swill they sell online.”

She took a wine glass from an adjoining table and started pouring. Slivaka had the color of wine and the viscosity of tomato soup.

“I’ve always wanted to try slivaka. The real stuff, I mean.”

“Now’s your chance.”

In the back of my mind, a voice pointed out how coincidental it was that a woman looking for a roguelike player just happened to be in the same bar as the highest-ranked player on GameCasts.com. The voice also pointed out that bringing alcohol to a bar was rather strange.

But this voice was drowned out by what Nick had said: You’re in your twenties, she’s in her thirties. Things happen.

THINGS. HAPPEN.

I took Jocasta’s glass and downed it in two gulps. The slivaka was thick and disgusting and tasted like plum-flavored battery acid. My first reaction was to run to the men’s room and drink from the toilet. But I was boasting to a woman, so I set the empty glass on the bar.

“Delicious.”

Jocasta beamed. “The most untraceable cryptocurrency in the world is Shadowcoin. You can pay an operative in Bulgaria from a bank in Belarus without either nation being the wiser. It was created by a Danish professor named Konrad Aften, and it became the currency of choice for firms that require privacy. My organization demands complete privacy, so we purchased 6.2 billion dollars of Shadowcoin.”

Blood coursed through my veins as my skin began to heat up. I couldn’t follow what Jocasta was saying, but I nodded.

“Sounds smart.”

“We thought so, and everything worked well for almost a year. Then Professor Aften surprised us. He activated a back door in the Shadowcoin Wallet and stole everyone’s currency as easily as if he was pirating music. Then he took control of our systems. Now every computer in my organization shows nothing but a black screen with the message: ‘For fame and fortune, seek the Medallion of Darnok in the Realm of Shadows.’”

I barely cared about Jocasta’s missing money. I was entranced by her beauty—her eyes, her jawline, and the graceful curve of her neck, which would have made any Renaissance sculptor weep.

“Did you call the police?”

“No. My organization doesn’t exist in the legal sense. Neither do any of the firms that bought Shadowcoin. We assumed Aften would know who he was dealing with and behave with a modicum of common sense. But we were mistaken, so we were forced to take matters into our own hands.”

“What did you do?”

“Professor Aften vanished, so we searched his house and interrogated his coworkers and family. We learned that he’d become obsessed with a Striba suit owned by the University of Copenhagen, and that he’d written a game—a roguelike—that could only be played by someone wearing a similar suit.”

“Realm of Shadows.”

I stared into her eyes, which sparkled like amethysts.

“Precisely.” Jocasta gripped my arm just below my shoulder. “Over thirty people have played the game, but no one has beaten it. Would you try, Dylan? It would mean so much to me.”

As I looked at her, it became clear that Jocasta was the most flawless woman in the world. And I was blessed to have a chance to help her.

“I’ll do it.”

Jocasta’s face lit up with such radiance that I felt that I’d walked into a spring day. She leaned toward me and whispered, “Then let's be off.”

I clasped her hand as we stepped into the night air. My laptop was still inside, but I didn’t care. I was in love. Jocasta and I were made for each other.

Jocasta removed a smartphone from her pocket. All trace of emotion left her voice.

“Mission accomplished, Malcolm. Send the van.”

I thanked the heavens for granting me the love of my life. I felt so stupid for having wasted so much time worrying about money. What a fool I’d been!

“Restraints won’t be necessary, but I’ll need someone to carry him. He’s going to pass out any moment now.”

I heard Jocasta’s words, but I didn’t pay them any mind. My attention was absorbed by the celestial music that enveloped me from every side. I looked up and watched the stars dance in celebration, spinning and spinning…