Ronald led a pretty ordinary life, by any standard. Though nowhere close to poor, he was no billionaire. A millionaire, yes. But by dint of less hard work than he would like to admit. It was mainly from maintaining his inheritance.

Today, he finally reached his self-professed retirement age. At 45, he was looked pretty fit, despite his the time he spent sitting in chairs. The secret was probably his controlled diet. He was certainly much fatter when he was 30. A quiet birthday. How he wanted it.

There was nothing else for him to do in particular. He had neither wife nor children on his own. Occasional relationships, yes, but they never lasted. Ronald wondered what he should blame that on sometimes. All his relatives felt distant to him. A niece or two, he would visit when he dropped by a city near them. And there were some relatives that he visited sporadically over the years. There was no worry over his assets too, as he had converted them to liquid cash and bonds. There was no worry about maintaining anything but himself.

Ronald was someone that got the job done no matter what. It not only meant that the job got done at great personal cost, and any other person that got caught in it. It also meant the result varied greatly, despite meeting the minimum standard. This particular trait of him was what allowed him to maintain his inheritance in the form of corporations, despite the blunders he made.

That made him neither a hero nor villain in anyone’s eyes. Simply an average person. One notable was how laidback Ronald was though his face constantly adopted the look of grouchiness. He was not interested in celebrations, or particularly enthused during holidays, as he spent them lazing at home. Occasionally, when he was forced to keep to his promise and duty, he was as fun and lively as could be.

Therefore, some that knew him would not be particularly surprised of him picking Royal Road as his chosen retirement activity. It let him experience more than an exciting lifestyle, while maintaining to his requirement of being hedonistic (translation: never needing to step out of his home!).

“Press the green button… Oh. There it is!”

Slightly excited, Ronald found the green button illustrated in a manual he was holding. He had skimmed the guide earlier too. What was left would be for him to try the game itself.

Ronald thought idly that the capsule resembled a silver coffin.

The slight hiss of cool air from inside the machine brought him anticipation. He was ready to leap in.

RRRIIINGG!!

The phone had to ring right at that moment. Grumbling slightly, he turned to the table behind him and picked it up.

“Yes, Ronald here,” he answered gruffly. His irritation was clearly showing.

The voice on the other end of the line did not notice it,”Good afternoon, Mr Hanover. I am wondering if you would take a little time to answer a survey. There will be a small gift for you upon completing it….”

The market research grunt at the other end of the line was immediately ignored by Ronald. His self-defense mechanism of idly ignoring what did not interest him had been honed well over the years.

He waited until a pause.

“Not interested. Thank you,” was his reply. He put down the phone.

“Bloody marketer,” he grumbled under his breath.

He had just turned and was about to take another step, when the phone rang again.

With louder grumbling, he picked up the phone.

“Good afternoon, Sir, would you be interested in subscribing to our magazine?”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Ronald slammed down the phone without hearing another word. That would be answer enough.

He waited for a couple of seconds. There were no more phone calls.

This time, Ronald managed to get within a hair of stepping into the capsule when the phone rang.

Muttering a dirty oath, he stalked up to the offending phone, intending to be damn sure after he was done with that call, to disconnect the line. A retired person was not meant to be called this many times!

“No! I, AM, NOT, INTERESTED! in your product!” He yelled in frustration.

He was about to say more when the other end of the line cursed back a little, probably from the unexpected assault to their ear. Ronald recognized the voice on the other line, and did not slam the phone down immediately.

“God’s sake, Ronald! What is wrong with you!”

Daniel, his best friend, shot back an octave higher than his normal tone, a sign that he was a little miffed.

“Sorry, my friend. I had irritating callers for the past five minutes. They try my patience,” it was as meek an apology as Ronald could summon.

“Fine. Fine. I am glad I caught you before you logged into the game.”

Ronald paused to let Daniel finish. Since young, he had always hated to be interrupted when he was making a point. It took a lot of grief between both of them to learn the comfortable spot to perch in.

“I forgot to tell you which city I am in. It is in Central Continent, Harine. Look me up when you get there. I usually hang around this tavern called Golden Goose. Don’t forget that. Closest town for you to spawn will probably be Cosare, about four days journey, if you intend to look me up. Will you be using your usual name?”

“Yes. I will do just that. You are using the usual one too?”

“Never needed another one,” was Daniel’s reply.

“I also look the same as I am. So you will have no trouble spotting me,” he added.

“Okay. Anything else to add while we are at it?”

“No. That will be all. See you in about a week.”

“Thanks. See you later too,” said Ronald, hanging up the phone.

To be sure of no disturbance, he disconnected the line too. Daniel had his private phone number anyway. He would have no trouble reaching him.

Rubbing his hands together, Ronald stepped into the capsule leaned at a comfortable angle. The insides were all cushioned with a gel-like substance. It was not sticky, yet molded well to his shape. He felt absolutely no discomfort.

The lid closed slowly when he settled in. It was transparent, but slowly darkened a few seconds after, cutting off all light. Only the barely audible humming of the capsule working could be heard. White glowing script floated on the lid that doubled as a screen, too.

Do you want to connect to Royal RoadYesNo

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Author's Note:

1. Credit to -The Slacker- for the diligent PR

2. Credit to several people that helped with bouncing ideas, being good listener, and random talk that leads to some creative process. No idea if they wanted to be credited for now. But I will leave it open.