JESSIE : LEVEL 8
DAY 70 : F-DAY, FIRSTWEEK, CALYPSO, YEAR 1
INTERIOR 3 : ROADSIDE 1 : WAYS TO DIE
I don’t notice the time. But I do notice the sun. And then the moon. And then the sun again, once more followed by what I can only assume is the same moon. That’s how I know it takes me over a full day to catch up to Mich, Rachel, and Ross. When I do, I practically collapse right on top of their moonlit picnic. Partially out of fatigue from having run for what, to any normal Earthling, would’ve been a fatal amount of time. But my physical exhaustion is nothing compared to its mental counterpart.
Naturally, Rachel asks me what’s wrong.
Mich wants to know too.
Ross doesn’t seem to give a fuck.
So I pointedly leave him out of telling the other two everything. I still can’t get over how fast it all happened. How I went from Warren Crusher to persona non grata just like that. “She just, I dunno, died. The house exploding makes sense. It was a simple Quest trigger. But it was also environmental. It blew up with me inside it a few times last week. Yeah, I took some damage from that. But it didn’t even take 100 HP.”
I groan into the warm grass I’m now lying in, face-down. “Between that and the damage from Aura Burst, it just doesn’t add up. Why was she so fragile? I’ve been in this world for, what, a little over two months? I guess it’s more like three on Earth… And sure, I don’t know what level she is. But I know it’s somewhere in the teens just from bits and pieces I picked up from everyone in town talking shit about her. How could I have overpowered, let alone killed her, without even trying?”
Mich raises an eyebrow at my distressed rant. “Not to pile on right now… But ‘without even trying’? Based on your description, it didn’t sound like an accident.”
I sigh as dramatically as I feel is appropriate. So very. “The killing part was an accident. The smacking-the-shit-out-of-her part though, was very much on purpose. And what if I did kill her on purpose? I’ve killed a lot of people on purpose. Why was this any different?”
Mich sits cross-legged next to me, half on the picnic blanket, half on the grass. “This is partially my fault.”
I roll my eyes as dramatically as I feel is appropriate. So very.
“No, for real. I’ve known about this for a long time now. Longer than I’ve known you, come to think of it. NPCs are… Different from you and me.”
“Why? Because they’re ‘Citizens’ instead of ‘Heroes’? Or is it just a racism thing? You know, we never actually talked about that. Is there some kind of anti-NPC prejudice going on?”
Mich rubs his temples. “Only if you treat them any lesser for it. And the typical prejudice is actually closer to the opposite. On a societal level, anyway. But the difference, unfair as it is, is also real. And it’s qualitative. Not in content of character, mind you. But an NPC doesn’t start with anything like the CLASSes or CRAFTs that we got. And it’s not just that either.”
He counts off on seven fingers, switching hands after raising the first two so he can point to them all in turn. “They don't have a Lane, Archetype, Specialty. Role, Art, or Focus. They can’t even get Core Skills. They do have a CLASS and a CRAFT though. And like you, their Subclass and Trade are the same. But instead of ‘Anime’, theirs is 'Normal Person'. As I understand it, there’s no true path to power in a Normal Person CLASS or CRAFT. Not like we get, anyway.”
Hearing that, it feels like the pit in my stomach that’s been gradually closing while I’ve been talking, opens right back up. “But… She was higher level than me. I know she was. Her STATs alone…”
Mich just shakes his head, getting up, deploying his chair, and sitting in that instead. “NPCs get benefits from leveling up, it’s true. But it’s also nothing compared to you or me. Even an NPC outfitted with the best, highest-rarity equipment in the world, stands no chance against a naked, equally-leveled Hero. Well, maybe a little. Unique gear does come with some crazy bonuses that could definitely kill… He clears his throat. “As you said though… STATs matter. They represent a nearly insurmountable gap in power between those who have them, and those who don’t. And it’s one that no NPC can ever really hope to bridge.”
Having reached my awkwardness threshold from him staring down at me laying here like this, I groan wobbly to my feet.
[ RARE CHAIR DEPLOYED: BENCH HALF ]
Mich leans forward in his own bench-half across from and reflecting my own. “That’s why they call it ‘The Tyranny of STATS’. If someone’s base numbers are higher than yours, then you’ll almost always lose a fight with them. Sure, Skills and other effects can come into it too. But STATs are the base numbers that everything else is built on. For those of a lower Milestone, especially in terms of Strength and Tenacity, it really does feel like tyranny. At least according to the NPCs I’ve met. I’m not sure where the cutoff is, but I’d bet good money that the old lady you killed was quite a bit weaker than you were at Level One.”
I feel my forehead furrowing at that. I then worry about wrinkles for subjectively longer than I’d like to admit before I remember that aging isn’t really a thing anymore. I then spend a few minutes instantly compiling my analysis. “So they’re like walking glass cannons? Except without the ‘cannon’ part? Why allow them to be killed at all then? Instead of walking targets, why can’t The Admins just make them invincible?”
“The answer is complicated.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Okay, seriously. That question was rhetorical. How can you possibly know about that, of all things? We’ve both been here for the same amount of time, right?”
“Remember that whole ‘socializing’ thing I mentioned? I know it’s not your favorite. But you’d be surprised how far you can get just talking to people. NPCs are a prime example of these ever-so-elusive ‘people’. And, as you might expect, they’re a fount of knowledge on the topic of NPCs. As for why they aren’t invincible, it apparently has to do with the difference between damage ‘reduction’ and damage ‘negation’.”
Mich clicks his tongue. “Speaking purely in terms of System Load, making a damage number Zero is about as expensive as making it infinite. Which The System is more than capable. But if that many people were invincible all the time, even Heaven’s seemingly infinite resources would be stretched to the point of breaking. I don’t know whether this is accurate, but it was described to me like this… Keeping a single NPC invincible for a full day would be roughly as resource-intensive as the cost of maintaining the functionality and stability of every other human for that same day, combined.”
Mich shakes his head. “Now personally, I think that’s a wildly exaggerated assertion. But even if that sort of thing was technically feasible, it still wouldn’t be a great idea. Imagine how bad this place would get with tens of billions of people that no one can stop.
I wrinkle my nose. “So do you mean, like… All the NPCs would basically turn into Oneshot?”
Mich seems to think for a second. “Yyyeah, sure… I guess that works. I mean, I don’t see a reason to also grant them the power to kill anything in one hit. But even without that… Just think about the chaos that would come from even flipping that switch.”
So I do. I really think it through. It takes a few minutes to reply instantly. “Fuck…”
“Yeah…”
I can’t help squeaking out a nervous laugh. “Buuut it’s still too resource-intensive… Right? This isn’t an actual decision to be made?”
Mich folds his hands on one crossed knee with a knowing smirk. “Oh yeah, way too expensive. But more to the point, you… You killed an NPC.” Mich makes a visible effort to search for something he can say to make me understand why that’s wrong. “I know they respawn and all. But even ignoring the loss of levels… Dying is traumatic, right? No matter which way you slice it.”
I really do try to see it from their perspective. From all those townspeople. From everyone I met this whole last week. And what was that about levels? It really was a lot of XP Debt, so it’s not like I’m about to make killing NPCs a habit. Even if it didn’t make me an instant pariah for my trouble… “Of course it’s traumatic. I know that, you know that… We all know that, Mich. Not like any of us can forget… But that was just my first time through. It didn’t get much better with the second. But it did get better. Bit by bit, each and every time. And I’ve died how many times now? I don’t even remember. That’s how easy it’s gotten.”
I sulkingly fold my arms. “Besides… She purposefully went out of her way to fuck with me. Multiple times, I might add. Honestly, in a world where death doesn't really matter, how is what I did not just the next step up from punching her in the face?”
Just thinking about all those identical basement cleanups is starting to piss me off again. “And that bitch deserved it! Sticking me with not one, not two, but more surprise basement-rat infestations than I could keep track of by the time I did anything about it? Pissed me the fuck off is what that did.” I sigh. “Not that I even wanted to kill her… Or, I guess I kinda did… But I wasn’t trying to… I was trying to be nice…”
Mich looks stonily at me. “By… Killing her… Well, good job on that one.”
I sarcastically perk up, fighting back the urge to veer defensive. “Why Thank you!” Then I let out a probably-high-pitched slow-to-me groan as I similarly let go of the tension built up in my neck from sitting like this after such a long run. “Maybe an eight-hour timeout from life taught her the consequences of fucking with people who aren't fucking with her.” I can’t help a vindictive smirk. “You never know when someone will be better at it…”
Mich groans right back at me. “I really don't know where to begin. Just… Jessie, keep in mind that I don't want to tell you what to do. Quite the opposite, in fact. But I won't pretend not to be worried about this path you’re walking down. It's just that… That road… I won’t pretend to know what you’re thinking. Or why you're on it. But I've seen where it leads. Jessie, please believe me when I tell you that it’s SKIPPABLE.”
I just chuckle and the world moves in fast-forward until I can get control of myself. “That's such a stupid way to put it.”
Mich chuckles right back, only faster. “It kind of is, yeah. But you get the idea, right?”
“I mean, I do… But that's not the point.”
“As far as I can tell from all my years of dealing with people who ended up where you’re headed… That's the only point that matters.”
I grumble more to myself than anyone. “That lady is skippable…”
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
Mich shakes his head. “I'm not saying you're wrong. But let the punishment fit the crime, yeah?”
I’m starting to get real fed up with the double-standards around here. “But in a world where death doesn't matter-”
“Now THAT, is REALLY not the point.” He looks into my eyes and waits until I reciprocate. “You know... If we're all just talking about whether things are 'the point' or not…”
I throw my arms up in frustration. “Fine! I Get it. Just like you can apparently see mine, I see this road you’re leading me down. And it’s an annoying one. So how about this? I'll stop killing NPCs just for fucking with me. But only if you shut up about it.” I fold my arms, wanting nothing more at this point than to stop being beaten into the ground about the thing I just spent over a full day literally running from. Arms folded, I don’t glare any less at Mich than when they were up in the air. “Happy, mom?”
Rather than waiting for an answer, I take an extended moment to search for any excuse to change the subject. “That reminds me. When I was coming here, I saw a ‘raid’ pop up on my minimap. Now… Is that what I think it is? And if so, why are we not already doing it?”
Mich actually flinches from the whiplash of that topic change. But then his eyes relax as he grabs for the life raft of one clearly far closer to his comfort zone than the moral implications of my most recent slip-up. “Raid, huh? I’m guessing you’ve played games with those?”
I shake my head. “Not really. I mean I have… I never did one though. But I watched stuff featuring them all the time. They’re basically like super-dungeons with ultra-hard bosses and ultra-rare rewards, right?”
Mich raises an eyebrow. “You… ‘Watched stuff’ featuring MMO-style raids? What even…” He shakes his head. “Never mind. To answer your actual question, yes. In essence, that’s what they are. Just not quite in the way you’re thinking. The bosses are, in fact, ultra-hard. And the rewards available are, in fact, ultra-rare. But they’re also ultra-specific. And ultra-limited in their specificity.”
Purposely falling out of my chair, I lay on the ground again, only face up this time. Taking a big breath in, I sigh in resignation at the inevitably impending bad news about the only thing that got me even momentarily excited over the past day. “Meaning?”
“Meaning CLASS and CRAFT Respecs. Raids are where those come from. They’re also the only non-cosmetic things that come from raids. So let me ask you this… Do you want to change either or both of those?”
And thus, my short-lived dreams of easy high-rarity loot are summarily shattered. “No…”
Then Rachel butts in. “Oh! Actually, I might.”
Ross whips his obviously surprised head around to ogle at her. “Really?”
Rachel shrugs. “Yeah. I mean I just went with a standard mage setup. It was the one that appealed to me the most from everything I saw at the time. But it’s a pretty basic CLASS from what I gather. And after seeing what Jessie here can do with her special-unlock anime abilities? Well, let’s just say it got me thinking…”
“…Huh… Yeah, I can see that. What kind of CLASS do you want then?”
Rachel’s expression turns contemplative. “I don’t really know. But I wouldn’t be opposed to putting some time in on a few of these ‘raid’ thingies just to see what my options are.”
Mich nods at her. “You can certainly do that. And you’ll definitely get something non-default each time. But remember when I said they were specific? That’s true not only in terms of exclusively granting CLASS and CRAFT Respecs, but also in the type granted by each Raid.”
Rachel lays on the ground in solidarity, sighing in similar resignation to how I just did. “Meaning?”
Mich snorts at her display. “Meaning… That Raids are permanent. Once they’re there, they stay there. They don’t move either. You can’t vote for them to stay, or go, or change in any way. They’re also unique. I’m not sure which Raid you saw, but let’s say it was the Video Game one. Completing it can give a CLASS of any Role, Archetype, or Specialty. But the Subclass itself will always be ‘Video Game’. Same for the Trade on any CRAFT. But within that narrow world are as many possibilities as there are combinations. To which, there are quite a lot. Especially for a theme as general as ‘video game’.”
Ross’s eyes are practically bugging out by now. “Hold up. Video game powers are on the table? Why didn’t you say so? I agree with the girl, let’s go already!”
Mich shakes his head. “Sorry, that was just an example. I don’t know what kind of raid she saw. I don’t even know if a ‘video game’ raid exists. In fact, I’d be surprised if there weren’t different ones for each major genre, franchise, or some other subtype this world uses to categorize something that broad. But… Maybe Jessie would be a clearer example.”
Having mostly tuned the conversation out by now, I let out a startled grunt at the sound of my own name. “Eh?”
Mich nods towards me, still addressing Ross. “If she didn’t get an Anime CLASS or CRAFT initially, she still could. All she’d need to do is find the Anime raid. Since her Subclass and Trade are both literally called ‘Anime’, you can bet that there is precisely one raid somewhere out there, that rewards CLASSes and CRAFTs just like hers.”
Ross lays his back on the ground, sighing in a resigned impression of us girls. “Meaning?”
Mich picks up a nearby stone and throws it at him.
A red ‘3’ rises from Ross as the rock wangs him in the head. “Ow!”
Mich pointedly ignores the man’s well-deserved plight. “Meaning… That if you want video game powers, you just have to find out where the corresponding Raid is. Then you and three others can go there, beat it, and you’ll have your Respec.” He shrugs. “And there’s also specially themed Chairs and Beds and other stuff you can get along the way. No Equipment though. That’s the main thing that keeps people from just grinding raids for loot.”
I just glare at Mich. “Okay, seriously. How are you learning these things? Because I know it’s not from being social. I’ve tried socializing. It’s not that informative.”
Mich throws me a knowing smirk. “I’m telling you, Jessie… Eidetic Memory. It’s a great Core Skill. That, plus just reading up on general information in your downtime goes a long way. But, as it just so happens, I talked with one guy in particular a few days before our disgusting little multi-week rotting tree adventure. He ranted at me for hours, primarily about all the ways in which whoever made the no-Equipment rule for Raids could save him some trouble with the Admins by brutally, and repeatedly, violating himself.”
I smile back as though I don’t want nothing more than to shove a few very specific memories into a deep, dark hole and set them on fire. The whole last few months, I’ve been looking for any Passive Skill or Armor Effect or Accessory or anything to selectively do the opposite of Eidetic Memory. I haven’t found anything. But I also haven’t given up so hard that I’d just say ‘fuck it’ and tip the nose cone of my blimp of an afterlife into the ground. So there’s that. But I also don’t want to have that conversation right now. Thankfully, my new breathing power still allows me several minutes of an extended instant to think up an immediate deflection. “And what if it was a woman?”
Somehow, Mich doesn’t miss a beat either. “He didn’t say. But I don’t think that would’ve changed his opinion.”
Neither do I, of course. But I have an advantage at deflection. Or maybe just a crutch. For a disability. A long, winding objectively instantaneous thought path leads to something else that’s been bothering me and might just let me avoid that other topic after all. “Hey Mich?”
“Yeah?”
“Are Monsters alive?”
From over where he’s picking at picnic food after having rolled over, Ross barks out a laugh.
Rachel slaps him across the back of the head.
Mich shakes his own. “No. No, they are not.”
Despite this whole tangent having been a deflection, my heart still somehow drops from my throat even as it lifts from my stomach. “But I feel like they’ve nearly communicated with me several times now. In fact, I know they have.”
“Have they? Did they communicate with you? Jessie? The girl currently laying on the ground? Or did they merely speak to their enemy?”
“Yes.”
Mich shakes his head. “No, I mean… God, okay. Did they address you in any way unique to yourself? Or could what they said have applied to anyone who went up against them?”
“What do you mean? Like, ‘did they mention my hair’?”
“Exactly. Or your size. Or what you were wearing. Or your general proportions. Or the fact that you were probably cussing them out at the time?”
“Because there was this skeletal cyclops that called my hips 'generous’.”
“Really?”
I grin up at the moon. “No.”
Ross cuts in. “Oh yeah, that’s the boss you died to, right?”
Rachel glares at him. But after a moment, she looks thoughtful. “Actually, I do remember that one screaming a lot. It changed a bit depending on what you did around it. But it was just a slight variation on the same thing every time. Kinda like a primitive sort of AI, pre-programmed with a few different variations on the same shriek, but with a certain license for improv within those bounds.”
Something about that seems off to me. “But doesn’t improv, no matter how limited, prove the presence of intelligence? Or a conscience? Or at least life?”
Mich shakes his head. “No.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“An Admin told me.”
“And you actually trust them?”
“You don’t?”
“Of course not?”
“Why?”
“I don’t know!” I take what is technically only a moment to calm myself down. Then my shoulders slump at the undeniable truth. “So they really aren’t alive?”
“The Admins?”
“Monsters.”
“Oh yeah… No.”
“Fuck, that does kind of add up, doesn’t it..?”
Mich nods in solemn understanding. “It kind of does…”
“Well that’s disappointing.”
Ross barks out another laugh through a full mouth. “That’s what she said!”
I chuckle warmly at a suddenly fast-forwarding Ross for once. “Yeah, it’s like… I was kinda hoping for something, I dunno… More?”
“Tell me about it…”
Laughing like a studio audience. We all look into the camera and sigh dramatically.
Ross holds it out to us. “You guys like it? It’s from a new Skill I got. I can customize the general shape and lenses and things, and it just pops into my hand when I activate a Toggle. If I use it to take a picture of someone else’s summoned dinosaur, I can summon a copy of it.”
I raise an eyebrow at the camera. “So you can summon essentially infinite dinosaurs? And the admins haven’t done anything about that?”
Ross sighs. “Aaand we’re back…”
“What?”
“Oh, nothing… I can summon from a potentially infinite catalog of dinosaurs, yes. One at a time though. And keeping it out costs twice the mana drain of the original.”
“Oh.”
Ross sighs again. “Yeah…”
“Disappointments all around today, huh?”
Everyone laughs.
I try not to. I try to breathe normally. I try to cope. And forget. But that’s the one thing I won’t do.
The old lady… She was giving me quick hard-difficulty quests that I could easily, if tediously, do right there in town. She was the one tricking the system, wasn’t she? She was doing me a huge favor… Wasn’t she? And then I…
[ UNCOMMON BED DEPLOYED: SLIZARDIC BED ]
I immediately disappear into the black satin covers.
Ross sighs.
Mich chuckles at me, turning instead to the others. “Camp here for the night, then?”
Both men wait for the expected response from Rachel. But then they notice her.
She got into bed almost as soon as I did.
Ross blinks at her. “Oh…”
Mich deploys his own bed. “Yeah…”
Eventually, Ross acquiesces and does the same. “Alright, I give up… You all win. I’M THE VICTIM, HERE!!!”
Silence is Ross’s only reply.
Right up until it isn’t when no one else says anything either. “…I’M KIDDING.”
I sarcastically break my own silence from under the covers. “Oooh…”
I can’t see him right now, but it feels distinctly like Ross points at me with an outstretched arm and an overexaggerated expression that I have to admit, I’m probably projecting. “YOU SHUT UP.”