(Jaxson)

“Damn. That’s one hell of a woman.” I took a moment before I walked into my generic player home. A square building with a chimney and two windows. The walls were white with a black roof and a red door. It wasn’t my style, but I was hardly ever here, so there was no point in customizing it.

I unlocked my door and entered. My living room was sparse, with a single sofa in front of the fireplace. Hanging above the fireplace was a flat-screen TV. In BO there were no TV channels and only Citizens could own TVs. We could watch Netflix and other movies or shows from a digital database, but no basic or special channels.

I dropped down onto my sofa and blew out a breath. My mind was filled with memories. Memories of vibrant red hair and silky-smooth skin. I groaned and got back up off the sofa. I stripped off my gear as I walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower. He ran the water cold and spent an hour under the spray before he exited the bathroom and collapsed onto his bed and tried to get some sleep.

My dreams were filled with her. I woke a few hours of sleep. I hopped out of bed and grabbed my gear. The woman was haunting my dreams. Fine then, I’d fill out some quests and get her out of my system. Maybe look up some of my girls. I walked down the street to the Adventurer's Guild. He walked through the large oaken doors. The hall inside was full of tables with long benches. Men and women sat at the tables, eating, drinking, looking over maps. Or playing board games.

A few of the Adventurers I was on friendly terms with waved in greeting. I waved back. The receptionist desk was occupied by a slender-looking elf In a two-piece suit. I’d never seen her before and wondered if she was a new hire. “You’re new.”

She arched a neatly trimmed eyebrow. “You’re very observant. How may I assist you?”

“I am looking for some work. You got anything challenging today?”

“Are you a member of the Guild?”

I snorted and turned over my Guild card.

Name: Jaxson Pierce

Race: Human

Class: Adventurer

Subclass: Swashbuckler

Rank: A+

Quests completed: 85

Quests failed: 5

I watched her demeanor change as she read the data on my card. I won’t lie. I loved it when the new guys assumed I was trash off the street looking for handouts, only to realize I was their senior. Usually, I’d let them sweat and fumble over a poor apology, but I was eager to work. “Look, can we hurry this along? I’m looking for a challenge today.”

She cleared her throat and handed me back my card. “We just received a quest to hunt Ogres in the Iron Hills.” She held out a metal tablet with the information on it. I briefly scanned it and tapped the accept icon. “Will you be needing a party?” She asked.

I shook my head. Any time an Adventurer took on a quest that was potentially difficult to accomplish alone, the Guild would offer to assign a party to the Adventurer in question. In the past, I would usually take them up on their offer, but I wanted to blow off some steam. Without another word, I left the Guild building and walked to the Fairy Gate. Once there, I paid the toll and passed through. On the other side, I stood at the top of a hill close by to a thicket of trees. The Iron Hills were so named because of the rich iron ore deposits one could find. I checked my mini-map and toggled the quest locator. I was about a mile from my destination. I told myself it could have been worse. I could have ended up ten miles or a full day away.

I took a minute to put health and stamina potions in my quick slots and scanned through my item bag for the weapons I wanted. Ogres weren’t fat green fart factories like that old movie from my childhood. In BO Ogres were big, mean, hairy, and strong. They resembled apes, but their features were humanoid with massive tusks. They could rip a man in half and, despite their size and appearance, they were very smart.

In some parts of BO, ogres even wore armor and wielded weapons. Lucky for me, the Ogres in the Iron Hills were primitive and used primitive weapons. I equipped an ebony long sword and a kite shield. Ogres were allergic to ebony so the blade would do poison damage.

Armed and ready, I walked down the hill towards the destination on my minimap. Following the direction on my mini-map led me to an ogre village. The village was in a thicket of trees. The huts were thatched and arranged in a large circle around a massive fire pit. The Ogres in the village were as primitive as I expected. Many were armed with clubs made of trees. Some of them wielded massive crude battle axes.

I was screwed. I should have taken the Guild up on their offer of help. I mean, I could wear my paladin armor but that would take all the challenge away. I switched out my current set for my Scale armor. Scale armor referred to any armor set that was made with Scales from any beast. Mine was made from hydra scales. Flexible, sturdy, and light. It was the perfect armor for the situation. I only hoped to run through the village and cut as many of them with my blade as I could.

I sighed and snuck as close to the village as I could. Most of the Ogres were milling about. I took a deep breath, then sprang forward. I swung my blade and cut the Achilles tendon of three ogres before I was noticed. I ducked the swing of a missive ax before sprinting towards the woods. The Ogres quickly converged on me, but I chose my path beforehand. I would be in the woods before the nearest Ogre could reach me. The trees would help me evade them. My best hope was to start a train and lead them on a merry chase, cutting down whichever one gets too close to me.

The Ogres were fast but not the most graceful of beasts. Every so often I’d make a sharp left or a sharp right, tripping them up and turning to land a good blow. One cut was all it took to deal 10 to 25% poison damage. As time went on, the percentage would only increase, losing their health quicker. And that was how it went. I run around for a few minutes, turn and slice. It was a good plan, but like a dumbass, I let my guard down. I had just landed a deep cut on one ogre and turned to run. I had a single second to see the massive club come towards us before I caught it full in the chest. I soared up in the air like a baseball from a stadium. I landed at least thirty feet from the closest ogre. The Scale armor took most of the damage. I focused on the armor to see its durability drop to 30%.

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“Fuck. That hurt.” I pushed myself up to see three ogres rushing towards me, massive axes raised and ready to split me in too. My stamina was gone, and my health was at 50%. There was no way I was going to survive this. The quest didn’t say that death was a failure, so I would just respawn and attack again. I had already cut several of them. They’d be weaker the second time around.

I caught the faint sound of something moving fast through the air. The lead ogre's face exploded into a bloody mess seconds before I hear the report of a gunshot. Rifles and pistols weren’t common in BO. Dwarfs made them and elite Dwarf soldiers used them. Players could buy them for astronomical prices or craft them if they had the recipe and a high enough level of the right skills.

Who did I know that used a rifle? There was that sexy Sniper I met last year, but I hadn’t seen her in a while. Why would she be out here? The other two ogres stopped and cast about for the unseen foe. A shadow fell over me. I looked to my fight and saw Stella standing next to me a Stamina potion in her hand.

“Talk and I’ll kill you.” She threatened, before forcing my mouth open and pouring the potion down my throat. Instantly I felt energized. The sound of the gunshot drew the other ogres to us. More shots rang out as the Sniper began picking off the Ogres. Not wanting to miss out on the fun, I charged in hacking and slashing while Stella hurled fireball after fireball at the Ogres.

I whooped as I swung my blade, slicing off limbs and plunging my blade into thick, meaty skulls. With Stella and the unknown Snipers' help, we slew the Ogres in under ten minutes. Exhausted, I sat on a rock to catch my breath. I watched a figure come down from one of the hills. As they drew nearer, my mouth dropped as Harlow came into focus. I rubbed my eyes, but sure enough, there was Harlow carrying a bolt-action rifle with a fancy crystal scope.

I was shaking my head as he neared. I stood and pointed an accusing finger at him. “How the fuck are you using that?” Allow me to clarify. There are many combat-based classes and subclasses. But the common rule between them is weapon restrictions. An archer can’t use a long sword or a mighty war hammer, just as a warrior can wield a magician’s wand or a sorcerer’s staff. Harlow’s class was Weaponsmith. Weaponsmith was a crafting class which meant he should only be allowed one weapon skill. I clearly remembered his skill being Spearman, not Sniper.

I scanned him again and sure enough; he was a Spearman. “You’re cheating somehow.” I was fuming at this point. I hated cheaters. There was no worst crime in BO than cheating. Hacking and unauthorized Modding was punishable by having your account deleted or in a Citizens' case house arrest for decades, maybe even centuries, since we technically live forever now.

Harlow smiled and shook his head. “It’s no cheat.” He swiped his hand, pulled up his character sheet, and flipped it over, pointing to his subclass. I didn’t pay attention last time. I did this time, though. It read Factotum.

What the fuck? I quickly opened my HUD and pulled up the Subclass registry. O scrolled through the names till I found it.

Subclass: Factotum

Type: Passive

Description:

An individual capable of performing many occupations. A master of none is better than the master of one. This is doubly true in the Factotum's case.

The Factotum subclass turns all other Classes and Subclasses into Class skills. With the Mastery of a Class skill, all associated skills are 25% easier to master.

Note: All Class skills are 75% slower to level than regular skills.

“What the hell am I looking at?” I mean, I wasn’t stupid, but I couldn’t believe what I was reading.

Harlow takes a seat on a rock across from me. His voice takes on a lecturing tone. Makes me wonder if he was a teacher or a Professor IRL. “I’ll use an example. MY Weaponsmith class has skills associated with it such as Smithing, Metallurgy, and engraving. To level up Weaponsmith, making any kind of weapon levels up the Class. The rarer the materials, the faster it levels. If I reached Master rank, all the associated skills would then reach Master rank with it.”

“Oh, come on that’s way to OP!” I protested.

He gave me a patient look. “Pull up the registry for your Class.”

Class: Adventurer

Type: Combat

Description:

Fearless, strong, and courageous, these individuals risk life and limb to see new places and perform tasks others dare not.

All Combat-related skills and subclasses level 50% faster.

All Skill and subclass restrictions are disabled with this class.

20% increase to base stats.

I read over the description and turned it around to show Harlow. “Okay, now what?”

Harlow lost patience and rolled his eyes. “All skill and subclass restrictions are disabled. Moron. That means if it's combat-related you can use any Primary or secondary skill. There are many Classes and Subclasses that provide the same advantages. People think of this world as a simple game, so they take everything at face value. The few of us that see these hidden gems don’t advertise them, for obvious reasons.”

I sat flabbergasted. I read and reread my class. I remember being taught a Class restriction referred to a type of weapon or armor that didn’t belong to your class. When I first read my Class description, I thought it meant I could use two-handed weapons or bows instead of just one-armed weapons and shields. Here I was an A+ adventurer, third-best on the server, and just a few quests away from being an S rank adventurer. Compared to Harlow, I was a joke.

Harlow stood and clapped me on the shoulder. “Don’t take it too hard. You're one of the millions that still haven’t noticed a damn thing about this world.”

My brows shot up. “Do you mean there’s more?”

He smirked and winked at me. “Kid, there’s so much about this world that would make your head spin.”

“If it makes you feel better,” Stella said. “I’m still learning.” She turned on her heel and marched away from me.

I sat in a daze till Harlow hauled me to my feet. “Come on, kid, you can be in shock back home.” He took a few steps away from me, then vanished in a spray of digital particles. I shook myself from my daze and used the return home spell. I walked to the guild and turned in my updated quest scroll and collected my reward before going home.

The next few days I spent in a daze as I thought about everything Harlow had told me. On the morning of the fifth day, I decided. I was going to see Harlow and convince him to mentor me. I had to know more. There was no way I could just go back to my usual questing when there was a much bigger world out there.

I practically ran to his house. My first thought was to demand he teach me, but on reflection that wasn’t the best method at my disposal. I took several deep breaths and knocked on his front door. After a few minutes, he opened the door.

“Jaxson?” He was clearly surprised to see me.

“Please mentor me,” I begged. Don’t judge. I rarely beg, but the infinite cosmos of secrets that he would unlock for me would be better than winning the lottery. If I was lucky, his mentoring could move me from third best to The Best adventurer on the server.

“Why don’t you come in and we’ll talk it over.” He said and stepped back, making room for me to enter. I thanked him and entered his house. We sat at his table, and I spent the next hour outlining all the reasons being my mentor would be beneficial for him. Simply put, I agreed to do anything and everything he asked of me in return for the secrets of this digital universe.