Simular Incorporated.

It was the current highest net worth company in both the legal and illegal marketplace. It was a company that defied the odds and succeeded where others had failed. A company that managed to further an abandoned idea to fruition while their competitors pursued the much more tangible fruits of cybernetics and biotechnology.

Simular Incorporated created Simular.

It was a creation of wonder—a life simulation advertised as an entertaining second chance to live as your ideal self, just with a little more spice. It also rocketed to the top of the list for most necessary technological inventions of the century as it was used for medicinal testing, military practices, imprisonment, engineering simulations, even gaming. It was used for everything—everything was done in Simular. Because in Simular, there were no consequences.

Even those who could barely afford a proper meal would spend days worth of income just to taste simulated culinary delicacies. And those few days worth of income would last them weeks in the simulation. Because there, time moved faster—just like a dream. There, you could experience the world in near perfect replications.

All of reality was replicated.

But when users first entered Simular, they had to be given new bodies—their avatars. And their avatars were based entirely on their genetic code with options to keep or remove cybernetic implants they’ve accumulated over the years. Some chose to remove all cybernetics, wanting to start fresh; it was an insightful look into how they would’ve looked without all the technological interventions.

These were the measures the developers took to truly establish a fresh start—a new potential life for users without any of the regrets from their previous lives. Of course, the real reason was much more contemptible. It was to gain more profit by selling simulated products within Simular itself. Over time, users would always end up buying back cyber-ups; it didn’t take long for them to miss what they’ve had before. But the reality of being able to remove cyber-ups, even broken ones, meant one thing for Val—

She could see again.

With the broken Razen on the left reverted back to its original, biological form, both eyes were now functional. For the time being, she could see like she could before, just with one less Razen. She wouldn’t suffer from any depth perception or blind spots, and this outcome alone opened up a few more avenues for earning the bills.

Most authorized earnings through Simular were made from the Simulon Games. This was a collection of virtual games that had recurring tournaments with significant prize pools. Unfortunately, the money was given in simuls—Simular’s personal currency. To transfer the funds back into the real world, it had to go through taxation and a negative exchange rate, but Coach had told her he had a plan…

“So what’s the plan?” Val peered across the empty space that was supposed to have been Simular. It didn’t seem much like a city, much less a town. It was just a gray area with dotted lines all around like some sort of blank grid. But she didn’t really care too much. She was more preoccupied by the fact that she could see in three dimensions again.

“What plan?” Coach mumbled.

“I thought you had one.”

“For what, lass?” He sounded a little irritated.

“For money, obviously!”

“Oh.” He paused as if he had just realized. “Well, let’s get through the tutorial first.”

“Tutorial? Who the hell needs a tutorial for this? You’re literally just walking around.”

A figure dressed in a simple, gray dress interrupted their conversation. “Hi! Welcome to Simular! My name is Genny and I’d like to introduce you to…” She droned on, but Val immediately stopped listening.

“So do all the NPCs sound like that?” Val whispered. “I thought they were supposed to sound more, like, natural. Like not so overly enthusiastic.”

“I’m not sure myself, lass. Heard the devs didn’t spend much time on ‘em because it was a waste of funds.”

“Wow. With all that money, still a bunch of greedy assholes.”

She looked around with a little more enthusiasm this time. It was still all just gray. Like the insides of an old charcoal painting just without any of the details. There was no end or beginning in sight. No doors or windows. She just hoped the entire simulation wasn’t going to be like this; it was far from what she had seen on the public ad spaces.

The gray-dressed figure finally stopped her lecture. Her unheard monologues still echoed across the endless corridor. And as silence was about to follow, she boomed with a grandiosity that wasn’t present in her speech before—

“Welcome to Virgin Thermopylae! The city of a trillion suns…” She gracefully gestured them towards a source of light. It got brighter and brighter by the second.

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Coach went in first. Then soon after, Val hesitantly followed. And what she saw on the other side…

“What the hell? Really?”

The airspace above her was filled with a chaotic mess of visual stimuli. 2-byte siren bands aggressively blasted their music on giant, hovering islands; large, holographic billboards presented their latest gadgets like scenes from an action film; and hyperpods zipped past her eyes faster than she could ever perceive. And while floating, animated brand deals dotted the pearlescent, diamond skies above, hordes of strangers flocked through the concrete jungle streets of the massive, fantasy city that was revealed before her eyes.

This was more than an imitation of reality. A blast of fantasy and sci-fi emulsified together—it was a vibrant concoction of futuristic beauty. This was more than what was advertised as “a little more spice.”

“What’re you gawkin’ at?” Coach moved ahead, swiftly weaving through the crowd. “Let’s get moving.”

“This is just… Wow.” She couldn’t keep her eyes away from all the visual stimuli. “It’s just so… What the hell, man.”

“Move it, shithead!” A random stranger pushed past her to get to the nearest virtual convenience store. They hurried in and disappeared without a trace.

“Wow,” Val muttered under her breath. “Just like real life. So immersive.”

“Enough dilly-dallying.” Coach pulled her into a tight corner of the street and handed her a small, handheld device. It looked like a key fob. “C’mon. We don’t got all day.”

“What’s this supposed to be?” She juggled the small device in her hand. It jingled with each throw.

“A teleporter.”

“Teleporter?! Like in one of those sci-fi movies? Am I going to just”—she motioned erratically with her hands—“disappear?”

“It’s Simular. What did ya expect?”

“I actually kinda expected it to be less realistic.” It was just a key fob. She expected some kind of thought-related teleportation—imagining that she was somewhere else, and the system would magically decipher her brain waves. “Can’t we teleport without these things? Like through our minds or something?”

“That’s for premium players.”

“Great.” Of course it was locked behind a paywall like every other product in existence. “Where are we going then?”

“The Coach Lounge.” He held up the teleporter fob. “Press the button. I configured it to send us there.”

“When did you do that? I thought you bought the headgear today?”

“You slept until noon, lass.”

“So?”

“So that was enough time for me to log in, set up base, and sightsee.” He nodded towards her. “That good enough for ya?”

She gave him a long stare. Was she being scolded? Again?

He chuckled, giving her a satisfied grin. “Don’t take it so hard. We’ll talk more there.” Then he pressed the button and vanished.

“Wow. Asshole.” Coach was always good at leaving discussions. No, he was just good at cutting her off. She’d pay him back someday. “Okay. Here goes…”

She took a deep breath and pressed the button. And before she could even blink, she was there—a minimalist shack with a nice, cozy view of a tropical beach.

“Ugh, fuck…” Dizziness came over her, but she managed to catch herself. It felt like she’d just stepped off a roller coaster—upturned stomach, blurred vision. It was immediate. She could taste something sour in her mouth—probably vomit.

Coach was already waiting inside, rummaging through some worn-out, cardboard containers. A glimpse around the place was enough for Val to form her opinion of the place.

“Where the hell is this?” she asked. “A deserted island? There’s like nothing here.”

“It’s my dream home. Stop judgin’ the place and help me find—” He leaned into a box and pulled out a motorcycle jacket and a pair of dark, tinted sunglasses. “Ah. Here we go.” He handed her the glasses. “Wear it.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s a disguise.”

“Disguise? It’s just sunglasses… Wait, is this like one of those cool gadgets that change how you look—”

“No, do you think I’m made out of money?”

“What? Then what’s the point?! It’s not gonna hide jack shit.”

“Boxing ain’t as popular as you think.”

“What?” The way he so nonchalantly mentioned that… “What do you mean? It’s so popular!”

“Stop whinin’ and put on the glasses.”

“Fine!” How could he insult the sport like that? She’d wear the glasses, but she vowed to never forget the things he’d just said. Just you wait…She’d pay him back someday, but for now, she had other worries. “So what’s the plan?”

“Plan? To make lots of money!”

“That’s it? That’s your plan?”

“Well, I found a few games that would best suit ya. There’s Roscoerama and…” His eyes briefly wandered towards the sky. “Ah, right. Blackjack International.”

“Blackjack?! You want me to play blackjack? I don’t even know the rules!”

“Ah, you’ll be fine.” He casually waved her worries away. “It ain’t too hard.”

“Why is blackjack even taking place in here? It’s just a card game. Can’t you play that outside in the real world?”

“Well, I think it’s probably cheaper for players to meet here than rely on public transportation. Ah, I don’t honestly know. Is it that important? You still have one of your Razens, don’t ya? That’s all that matters.”

“Okay, sure. Whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “When’s it all happening? I need time to practice.”

“Ah, right. ‘Course.” Coach gave an ominously wry grin. “Both take place on the same day. Isn’t that great, lass? No need to be waitin’ around.”

“Okay…?” She didn’t like when he grinned like that. “And when is that?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?!”