The Game

* * *

"Don't get upset," Oleg shifted his crutches briskly, moving quickly toward the elevator. "The Principality is a good game. B-category, of course, but in the upper segment. There are a lot of students at the universities who used to be on it."

All true, but there are far more A-category players in higher education

I had no illusions about the future - life had discouraged me. Your social index is made up of your parents' indexes, your school grades, your police and medical records, and evidence of participation in various government programs. It is clear that those who initially have the opportunity to study at a prestigious school (read: those whose parents earn good money), in the future get higher marks on tests, and their index increases, allowing them to count on benefits for university admission, and later to draw the attention of recruiters from large corporations. The system is set up in such a way that a hell of a lot depends on the starting kick.

I don't have a father. My mother works as a manager in a small company that pays microscopic taxes, hence her low social index. I study well, but I am no genius. On the other hand, there are no health problems, as well as conflicts with the law, which is nice. In general, the index of the third category with the prospect of transition to the second.

"Are you one of your class?"

"Yes. The rest in the Werewolfs or even lower."

Bad luck. My friends or good acquaintances didn't get into the Principality, they didn't have enough exam points, and with those of my classmates who did, I don't want to play myself. Some I don't trust, and some I don't agree with.

"Too bad, it's easier as a team. First!" the elevator doors closed, accepting the voice command. Oleg scratched the back of his head in thought. "Well, what can I advise you... The main thing - is do not hurry. First, the newcomers get to the Sandbox. It's a district of the city where the general rules do not apply. You can't fight except by arrangement quests are easy, no theft, and plenty of teachers, experience, and money are easy to earn. Most of the kids I know were trying to get to level ten quickly and go out into the Big World. Wrong."

"Why?"

"They didn't use even half of the capabilities of the Sandbox. Look: what do you want to be in the game?"

"Magician of Water or a Shaman. I like the programming."

"Then why you do not take the Earth."

"I have bad with math."

"I see. Then here's an example about magicians. You can get initiation in the Sandbox from Stepan the Sorcerer, Svetozar the Wizard, Nastasia the Witch, and someone else. I don't remember the name. Never mind. What do players do? Fifty percent go through initiation, gain levels and go to the Common City. Another forty percent go through initiation, learn some basic skills, gather skills and gain levels at the same time, and then leave. One-tenth of them realizes that the skills don't have to be taken only from the NPCs tutor and that you only have to pump the skills in your chosen class. These guys develop seriously and systematically, and any clan would be glad to get them."

"So, I recommend you stay in the Sandbox as long till you will master at least one of the magical and one basic combat skill. Of course, it's difficult, but four months should be enough."

"Why do I need combat skills?"

"The first fifty levels, the spells do not help you a lot." Oleg shrugged. "You'll be a lot of running and fighting. And shape will improve. Much better than exercises."

* * *

How do you start high school? With a wet cleaning.

It is better to wipe the VR-suit. And thoroughly, with chemistry. You don't know who used it before you did. Of course, the virt cubicles are ionized regularly, and even once a month or so a lady comes with a robot cleaner. But I've always been squeamish and prefer to be overprotective in this matter. Some of the boys and some of the girls too are very dirty. If I had an extra two hundred thousand and a bigger apartment, I would have bought a private cabin, but "what we don't have, that we don't have". Not with our incomes.

It seems that's all cleaned up. I can connect. According to the rules, the first immersion into a virtual environment is carried out in the presence and under the supervision of one of the teachers or at least a person appointed by them responsibly, but when in Russia were the instructions followed? The more so because by the time they were fourteen, every teenager at least once. has sat in the booths. At home, at friends', in entertainment centers, or wherever. So I undress, put my things in my locker, pull on my acridly smelling suit, trying to avoid the appearance of creases, stand in the center of the ball-shaped room, and softly command: "switch on. There's nothing under my feet, and yet. I lift myself slightly off the floor. That's it. From this moment until the end of my work, the geometric center of my body coincides with the center of the virtual cubicle. I can jump, somersault, and perform the riskiest acrobatic stunts, but my real position in space will not change.

"Start."

The lights went out, the walls receded, and the blackness of space with bright dots of shining stars stretched all around. It seems this screensaver was criticized by doctors, claiming that it developed agoraphobia in children. I don't know. I didn't have time to be frightened. A few feet in front of me appeared an image of a man in his forties, with a comfortable appearance and dressed in a strict conservative outfit. I grimaced.

"Skip it. Go to character creation."

The program will not say anything useful, and it is forbidden by law to sit in a learning game for more than four hours. It is believed that staying too long in the virtual is bad for the growing organism, and no one exempted us from the study. We, in theory, should spend half the time acquiring new knowledge on an individual plan, in order to consolidate them in practice in the game. In practice, most high school students see hours in the VR as an opportunity to have fun for free and simply kill the mobs.

So, what races are available to me? The computer-generated a human character based on the data from the personnel file, but the race and some characteristics can be changed. Rumor says this is the first of hundreds of psychological tests used by the government to collect information on citizens. Although, the game itself is one big test. I choose an elf (NPC characters are initially friendly to them, for me this bonus is important), I look at the distribution of points on the characteristics and take it without changing. Initial characteristics don't matter much, games like Principalities are not invented for fun.

So, the name... Should I keep the real one? No, thanks. I'd rather be Andrei 1Little, the most decent nickname on the list of available names. Clothes, some money, and a map in my purse. That's it. The character's created.

Today's VR is not much different from reality. Especially, when the rendering and sensory effects are supported by a powerful server. No, if you want to find out which of the spheres you are in, you can. There are methods. They are, by the way, studied in the Magic of Illusions. It would be necessary to get some skills. But if you don't focus it's hard to tell the difference. I could have sworn that I was standing on the side of a village street, like many in Russia even now, a faint breeze slightly tousling the long hair on my head while dogs barked and the wheels of a passing cart squeaked, and voices chattered: "Vaska, bastard, where are you going!!"

[village noises]

"Again, newbie on the middle of the road. Hey, kid!"

I looked around. I was watching a man in his forties, he was wearing short boots, long pants and a white shirt, belted with a rope.

"For the first time in our village, right?"

"Yes." I nodded.

"Then go to the marketplace," he waved his hand, indicating the direction. "There's always a lot of work for beginners."

"Thanks." I thanked him for the advice. Quests will be useful to me.

The market square in Sandbox is only one, it's hard to get lost. Especially since I downloaded a map from the forum and more or less navigate the village. Just the initial location for all players is slightly different: the same NPC can give a quest to dig a garden, deliver letters, or present a skill. Or may not give anything at all and scold you in a rude way.

I reached the marketplace, with stalls full of merchandise, shouting vendors, and players with nicknames illuminated above their heads, scurrying about the marketplace with a businesslike attitude. A typical village square, except that there's no equipment, and people don't have PDAs or virtual glasses. In the forum, they wrote the technology will appear in the big world but will be used with respect for the spirit of the world. Let's see what the developers came up with...

"Good day, are you Headman?"

"Let's say," the stout, gray-bearded old man with a staff stretched out, not very friendly. "What do you want, boy?"

"I was wondering if you had a job for me."

* * *

Day four, I'm getting the hang of it. Still, there are a lot of differences from the usual games, but there are also similarities. For example, a hackneyed task to kill rats in the barn of the fat Miller, or the delivery of letters from one end of the village to another (okay, at least there is logic - the letter is called a love letter and demanded privacy, that is, do not talk). That's what I want to deal with the rats now.

I did not have time to complete the task of clearing the barn yesterday, the timer went off, and I was thrown into the real world. I will do it today but first, get an initiation to the magician from Nastasia the Witch. So that not only waving a truncheon. Yeah, I earned some weapons, and I got a couple of levels in the process. Interestingly, the dexterity, strength, and other stats didn't change at all, but there were a dozen useful skills like "first level crushing weapon with 1% damage bonus" and the like. It's understandable. Stats go hand in hand with skills that I haven't gotten to yet.

"Wow, it is a real hospital here."

Nastasia, judging by the crowd of sick people in the courtyard, was a local healer. I was not smiling to sit in line, and my attempt to sneak past the sufferers almost led to the loss of life or at least health. Fortunately, I think I figured out in time to help drag in the emergency room of a huge man with a leg wrapped in rags. Around the stretcher immediately rushed the assistant, and I had time to ask the witch about the initiation. Instead of answering, Nastasia literally brushed me off:

"You will work ten days."

Immediately a message popped up before my eyes: "Congratulations! Your wizarding abilities are now active! You have the right to choose one starter spell," and a list with a reminder below it that I can't leave the Sandbox without paying my debt. That's a shame because now I'll be wasting ten days, or so it seems.

I shrugged, chose an Ice Arrow from the School of Water, and went to the barn. I had no choice. All wizards pay something to their teachers when they initiate. The principle here is that you can't get something important for free only to earn it. Svetozar, for example, requires to help the peasants to build a house or pave the street, harvest, or anything else in the same manner. That's the kind of educational moment, man.

Near the barn, there were already a couple of players in good equipment for the initial levels. They had been playing for a long time, or they focused on leveling up, i.e., pure playing. I wore the standard rookie pants, the same boots, a shirt, a hat received in payment for minor services, a stick, and on the side, the bag with a few pieces of bread. But whole twelve pieces of silver and eight potions of life and mana. For a mage is necessary. But potions could not be seen, so it is not surprising that they looked at me with mild disdain.

Miller did not require killing all the rodents. The job has a few grades. Ten tails - the minimum level, the assassination of Rat King counted as excellent. Well, let's see how things go. I walked around the barn, waited in the shade for five minutes without moving, and with a "feeling of great satisfaction" at a favorite proverb of our physics teacher, I saw the gray-nosed snout appear from the crack.

Now I had to figure out the spell. The icicle appeared in my hand, changing its weight depending on the amount of mana I put in, and, frankly, my eyesight wasn't perfect. It was clear that the first icicle I'd thrown was about half a meter away from the rat who'd jumped out into the open. Fortunately - or unfortunately, as it became clear a few seconds later - unlike its living prototype, the beast did not try to escape. It rushed toward me with a furious squeal, overcame the meters that separated us in a matter of moments, and bit my boot with a triumphant shriek. Damn! It hurt! It was the very realism of sensation, the quality for which school games are criticized by numerous committees of mothers, doctors, and human rights activists.

The imitation is not absolute, it never exceeds the individually calculated pain threshold, but it is still not very pleasant.

In short, I didn't even try to create a second spell. I simply jerked my foot, and when the rat went for a second run, I hit it with a stick. Thank God, the program did not require me to skin the resulting corpse and the first tail took its rightful place in the inventory. Then I spent the rest of the energy, creating and throwing icicles into the specially prepared block, remembering at the same time Oleg's advice to pump one of the basic military skills. Each specialty had its own - hand-to-hand combat for Fighters, a foreign language for Shamans, sculpture, musical notation, or drawing for Bards, for example. I really did seem to need something to save me in the short distances. I can train an icicle, I read on the forum, some specialists throw it to the target at ten meters after a couple of months without any auto-aim, but something else is needed for close range.

When I got acceptable results, I moved to another spot and waited again. The next rat I aimed for a long time, taking my time - by the way, now I would have to fix my boot. I hit it, knocking the gray creature's health down with one shot. The mana was gradually restored, so I stood in one place for the next half an hour, periodically firing the animals that crawled out of their holes and occasionally swearing at the developers. Because I missed about a third of the time. I couldn't swear out loud for the same reason - the game imposed debuffs for swearing and, in especially severe cases, even reduced the characteristics.

Twenty-one tails I caught allowed me to count on a relatively good reward, and there wasn't much time left before I could get out. All right, that was enough for today. I'll turn in my quest and go to the market square, ask around the locals for errands. If I don't find anything outstanding, I'll go to Nastasia's house tomorrow - I don't like being in the debt.

* * *

The developers have gone too far with naturalism.

Today is my last day working at the local hospital. I think I will remember this place like a bad dream - I am very squeamish in life, and here I have to deal with the most unpleasant aspects of human physiology. Helping to bandage the sick, changing dirty laundry, wiping the bedridden, and taking the ducks out after them. The contents of the ducks by the basic indicators - color, shape, and smell - completely coincided with the natural one, seen by me at home in the toilet bowl, and in fact, I had to carry them more than once or twice during the working day. Whew...

The good news is that in the past ten days I've unlocked a number of skills. Their value is insignificant, in the sum of one point of characteristic, but it is just the beginning. This is how the developers are fighting cheaters. Those items that were studied in the school curriculum (history, biology, foreign languages) give a slight increase in the characteristics, in contrast to those studied independently. Although the system is not simple. Let's say I learn English at school. So, the skill "English of the first level" opens to me if I pass the exam on the program of the first-third grade and gives an increase of zero point one percent to Intelligence, at the same time opening access to the "English of the second level". Which, in turn, corresponds to the school curriculum for fourth and fifth grades and gives an increase of three-tenths percent. In short, the first three levels are easy to get, with normal learning enough to repeat the passed material, but the characteristics they add up to just one point.

A different thing is the skills mastered independently or in the course of the game. There are two options - external and internal. For example, if you have studied programming in non-standard languages at home, in a circle, or with friends, you pass the exam to the wizard-ritualist and get an honestly earned unit of wisdom for the first level. Another for the second level, a third for the third, and so on. Or you can ask him for tutorials or even study for an hour or two every day in the game and pass the exam in the end. Many people, by the way, prefer to do it the second way - it's easier to master the material.

That's it. The reception is over, the patients are asleep, and Nastasia calls me.

"Well, Andrew, your work is finished."

"Yes." I agreed, trying to suppress a sigh of relief.

"Don't you want to stay? You're an industrious guy. You don't avoid work, and you're quick-witted. I could teach you a thing or two."

Interesting.

"What can you teach me, Mrs. Witch?"

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

"For example, the skill "First Aid", twenty academic hours. Or "The basics of Pharmacology", if upgrade the Chemistry to the fifth level."

The offer is tempting on the whole. Where there is a medical skill, there is a magical skill, and any group would gladly accept a healer. But I am not ready to spend another twenty hours. I'm tired of hospital smells, of the sight of wounds, of moans that sound like the real thing. I want to rest, relax, and do a dozen quests.

"I'll definitely try it later, okay? I have slightly different plans for the near future."

"Of course, you can," Nastasia shrugged. "The permit is not time-barred. Come to me or any other healer when you're ready."

The witch turned and walked away, allowing me to think about the situation. And life was getting better! I had finished my training, and now I was free to leave the Sandbox, had to access to a new branch of development, and most importantly, I was free! With half an hour to spare, I hit the market square knocking around for the most valuable quests. Today, of course, I wouldn't have time for anything, but tomorrow I would be able to start in the morning.

The headman, who usually gave the most interesting and profitable assignments, was sitting in his usual place. He only seemed to leave here at night.

"Ah, young wizard," he greeted me in a much friendlier way than he had the first time I met him. My reputation has improved over time. "You've grown, I see, I see... What do you want? Looking for work again?"

"Yes, I'd looking,"

The old man shook his head.

"I have a job, yes. But you'd better go and read the ads first. Maybe you'll find something better than mine."

There was indeed a job board nearby, which I had tried unsuccessfully on the first day. Instead of the text of the ads, I saw "not enough permissions to view," and since then, I looked for quests in other places. Is this another bonus for my work? Let's see how big the reward is.

"Catch eight live birds," "take a letter to a distant village," "practice with the kids' soccer team," "help a craftsman fix a bridge," "bring twelve stems of wild onions. Each ad had a little note recommendation to help the players decide whether or not to take the assignment. Just information that it's better not to go there until level eight, and here the knowledge of magic or high speed of running is preferable. And what to choose? Quests, interesting to me, too risky, and recommended to my level give little money and experience.

"Hey, are you a magician?"

Next to me was a guy in a warrior's outfit. That is, in armor, with a long sword, a shield, and a backpack on his back, and even at first glance, it looked of good quality. By local standards, of course. It would take more than a month to get hold of these things. Most likely my peer. Access to school games is granted after the age of fourteen or in special cases for medical reasons. Oleg, for example, could hardly move his arms after the accident. His spine was put back together in pieces. The game was prescribed to him as therapy at the age of twelve.

"Perhaps."

"Cool! Let's go to the skeleton together?"

"A skeleton?"

His name was Feirbringer it's fun, he changed one letter only, but so efficiently. According to his quest, he must bring the bone of the undead. Exclusive in this area skeletons, weak and sickly, were very popular. So locals, irritated constant mockery of their Undead ancestor, locked him in the crypt with the magic lock. Feirbringer tried to open it but could not.

"I even pour a potion of mana on a seal." he shared his grief. "In vain."

"I see. What do you want from me?"

"I lurk forum. They wrote that any mage able to open it. It just needs to put the palm on it and apply energy as in a spell. Help me, huh?"

"Well," I thought. "what do I get?"

"Experience for free for the team actions," shrugged Feirbringer. "the skeleton is my problem. Well, I add a silver coin."

Getting silver and experience for almost nothing is a great bargain. Unless, of course, everything is as he says it is.

"Are you sure you can handle the undead?"

"I am already at the tenth level, and he has only a sixth. This is my last quest before going out into the big world."

"I would have to go with you, but I have time run out," I said. "Soon, the game throws me out. Only if tomorrow."

"Ok, I have twenty minutes myself. Then let's meet here tomorrow at two by Moscow time."

"Deal." We shook hands, bonding contract.

Exit.

As I got dressed, I wondered what kind of unconventional thinker thought to give teenagers a textbook game. Many commercial firms now require not a high school diploma, not a degree, but skills chart when hiring young employees who have just graduated from high school. This is conventionally open information; for public categories of professions like politicians, it is put out in the public domain, while ordinary citizens can forbid its publication. Most people forbid it.

If I remember correctly, the educational system began to change somewhere in the middle of the twenty-first century. At that time, three factors coincided. Firstly, a series of world crises ended, and imperial socialism was formed in Russia (in the West they still do not understand how it happened and what it is). Secondly, the development of technology has led to the emergence of a developed virtual reality, which in another fifty years was reborn in a full-fledged sphere of life. At the same time, they created the first full VR, but they were expensive, not like now. And finally, the final push was the Homeschooling Act, passed in the two thousand sixties or so. It carefully spelled out the terms of homeschooling or distance learning for children, what in those days was called "homeschooling".

Suddenly it turned out that the school as it existed back then was not needed. Distance learning gives better results and is much cheaper. There were other positive aspects. The Ministry of Education tried to ignore the results of the research. But it did not work for a long time to hide the fact that children who were learning by the new methods knew more and were able to do better. We had to find a way out of an unpleasant situation for any official, and quickly.

There was a company called New Technologies back then. The controlling shareholding belonged to the nephew or son-in-law of the acting president, not the point. In short, this relative - most likely not himself, but with the help of analysts - immediately calculated the situation, estimated the possible market, talked to people, and proposed an experiment. Like, I'll give you specialized VR cabins and a new generation of school programs to train good specialists - we were preparing for war again back then - and you give me some money, and preferably a lot of it.

Perhaps, the project was planned just for state funds utilization. But it attracted too much attention. They must do something. In the first ten years, the results have been controversial. Then the technology was mastered. Professional educators and psychologists created the necessary techniques and scripts. Bit by bit, training in VR become a standard. The results satisfied everyone. Сhildren receive a quality education and skills. At the same time, they can understand what they want from life. On another side, society can evaluate not only students' diligence and ability to solve the same type of exercises from the textbook, but their leadership, cunning, communication skills, resourcefulness, and ability to think outside of the box.

And if you don't want to upgrade your skills and play killing monsters, that's your right. Work in the simplest jobs or just sit in the VR on the minimum allowance. The economy allows it.

The next day as arranged, Fierbringer and I met again at the market square. According to him, the cemetery was half an hour's walk up the hills. In the same places grew the burdock that Grandmother Maryana specifically needed. The quest was given without question and quickly. That is, the advice came in handy.

As we walked we talked

"Who usually becomes a Warrior?" The guy asks and then answers. "Future army men, athletes, and often engineers and people with a mathematical mind. But they usually play in the Galaxy there are not many of them in the Principality. And pure fighters are rare, not that the Paladins or the various Knights of Death."

"What skills do the warriors have?"

"The same as the Mages. It just gives different characteristics. And what for us is the base for the mages is considered a secondary branch of development. But there are no restrictions here. You can change the class if you want."

"One guy advised me to take the basic combat skill."

"Good advice." Fierbringer noded. "Strength, agility, and endurance are always useful, even if you build a social character. I saw with my own eyes as a fifth-level beaver killed a mage one level above. And why? It came close. Magic characters do not have enough vitality. And skills look nice in the resume, show that you not a geek or nerd."

I had not thought about it.

"Who is your teacher?"

"Ivan the Smith. He is kind of like an ex-mercenary and can teach. What do you want to get?"

"I'm not sure...hand-to-hand combat, maybe."

"Uhu, against the two-handed sword with a naked heel?"

"Then what?"

"Magicians usually use staffs or wands," said Feirbringer, scratching his head. "But hand-to-hand combat, you need as well. You know, if there is time, it is better to get "Martial Arts". It includes pole, cudgel, sword, knife, and hand-to-hand combat at the primary level. Duration of training one hundred hours."

"One hundred hours ?!" I repeated.

"A lot, I do not argue," the warrior agreed. "But the non-magical characteristics increased by five points, and you get some bonus, I'm sure. For non-core skills, always give a lot."

"Yeah, but one hundred hours!"

"Three or four months if you work every day. Come on, do not worry. Pressures are rising gradually. The capsule provides muscle massage, and you will not get any injury in training. This is not a study - it is a dream."

"Swear, that for a year, I get a black belt."

"No. To become a professional, you have to practice in real life."

The little cemetery was surrounded by a high fence, locked with a big padlock. We had to climb over the wall. In the game, there is a thief skill "Breaking and entering," which combines both breaking locks and the basics of hacking into other people's computers, but you can't just get it - you need to complete a complex quest and have a high reputation. According to rumors, those who have it pumped up, enjoy the close attention of the security services and large state corporations.

The seal overlaid on the pompous crypt glowed dimly blue. I wonder who came up with the idea of placing a decoration from medieval Europe in the entourage of the Russian countryside? Must be a man with a sense of humor. The last resting place of the former headman looked surrounded by well-kept graves about as a pimple on the face of a secular beauty, that is, it immediately caught the eye.

"On the forum, they wrote just put a hand on the lock and start to pour mana."

"Are you ready?"

Feirbringer put on his helmet, pulled the sword from its sheath, and threw on the hand shield from the back:

"Let's start."

Well, my part is small.

The task was indeed simple. One might say primitive. I had to sacrifice two mana restoration potions, but I still had three in my bag. At last, the lock clicked, opening into two halves, and I quickly stepped aside, just in case. I could not be too careful. When Fierbringer swung the door open, there was a smell of dampness, a disgruntled howl, and a hideous-looking creature that looked only vaguely human appeared in the dark doorway.

Have I already written that programmers overdo the naturalistic thing? Then I'll say it again: they overdo it. Too much.

Logically speaking, the undead, proudly called a "skeleton," should look like a collection of polished bones fastened together incomprehensibly. That's the theory. In practice, the risen corpse looked more like a corpse, well gnawed by dogs, with remnants of meat and veins on the skeleton. Though, even with the appearance, one could have been reconciled had it not been for one "but" - he stank. I stood six feet away from the rampaging corpse (I seem to have spontaneously teleported), hiding behind a leaning cross, and the stench made me sick to my stomach. What was Fierbringer like? No wonder he staggered a little, and in the first few moments of the fight, he missed a couple of hard blows.

An easy mission? Fierbringer could only shield himself with his shield. It became obvious if I didn't help him, the undead would kill the main fighter first and then take care of me. I could try to run away, but first of all, I don't know that it would work, and secondly, to abandon my party mate would seriously lose my reputation. I would have to intervene.

The first Ice Arrow went higher. The second hit the skeleton in the lumbar region. I had practiced my throw in the hospital in my spare time, and in normal conditions, I could hit a log one meter by forty centimeters at ten meters, but now my hands were trembling. The third slightly damaged the headman's leg, after which he turned away from finishing off Fierbringer and swiftly turned in my direction. I had to hurry out of the way, shouting at the warrior to get him better - the undead was clearly faster than I was.

We made only one lap around the cemetery before the skeleton caught up with me. Luckily, it was near the crypt, where Fierbringer, who had healed and regained consciousness, was waiting for us, angry at the weakness he'd shown. He stepped sharply out of the way of the nearly whole undead - my two icy arrows only took fifteen life points out of a hundred and twenty, though they slowed it down a bit - and slashed at its head with his sword. He stabbed at her head, splitting it in two. The blow must have been fatal, for the skeleton staggered about and began to wiggle his arms clumsily. Which Fierbringer immediately severed, after which he disposed of the torso and its lower limbs with a couple of strokes of his blade.

"[censored]! I ... [censored] ... you [censored] [censored]...!"

It took me five minutes to catch my breath, and all the while my partner was cursing, kicking the crawling bones. Finally, I was able to get a few words into the incessant profanity:

"Hey, enough. You probably already received debuff."

Fierbringer counted the ribs once more with his boot and looked displeased at the sight in front of him. It looks like I was right about the fine for swearing.

"Agility minus twenty percent for today. It does not matter," he said. However, he stopped swearing. He began to take away limbs in different parts of the cemetery.

To put to death the undead in the game, you can use either specially enchanted weapons, magic, or fire. The first points are unattainable to us, and we did not put up a fire, though we both wanted to. Villagers will be angry if we finally kill their ancestors and can impose punishment. But to delay the revival of the skeleton is within our power, which is what the fighter was doing. I had been contemplating whether or not I should demand a share of the loot after the event. For it was my active participation alone that had enabled Fierbringer to complete his quest. I decided I should.

"Hey, we agreed I'll stand aside and not participate in a fight, right?"

"Yeah." the boy sighed. He already understood what I mean.

"And without me, the skeleton could kill you, right?"

"I can not give the bone. It is only one."

"I have no claim to the bone. But if we find the scrolls on magic, you'll give them to me. And add money, at least."

"Are ten silver coins enough?"

"Deal."

Despite the awful beginning, the mission was a success for me. I got the experience of taking part in killing a monster, almost reaching level five, I earned money, plus some reputation. Truth to tell, there was nothing useful in the crypt, all looted before us, but I did not have much hope. Spells in the game are taught in the guilds or by character tutors, educational scrolls are extremely rare.

* * *

"Aim the tip of the sword at your opponent's throat. Knees bent and relaxed, sway on your feet, that's it. Don't tense your muscles you'll tire quickly..."

I wonder if our mentor is a program, an artificial intelligence, or a live person. If the former, her complexity is mind-boggling.

I admit I was wrong. I shouldn't have taken "Martial arts" as a whole, rather than individual skills like "Hand-to-hand combat" or "Spear weapons. It just struck me how helpless a mage could be against the most primitive undead. The skeleton that had caught up with me would have been enough for one blow to throw my health back into the red zone, and the possible presence of armor wouldn't have changed anything. I would have been eaten by a corpse. I was still reeling from the jitters, and under the influence of what had happened, I ran to the blacksmith Ivan to make arrangements for the classes.

Lesson for the future - do not do important choices in a hurry.

The smith, the bastard, charged twenty silver for every ten sessions. That is, in addition to the fact that every day (okay, almost every day, about once a week I allowed myself a break) an hour or two was spent on training, and the rest of the time I had to spend on performing quests. There is no money, it must be earned. Fortunately, the high reputation allows me to take well-paying jobs, or exactly three months would not have been enough time. I soon realized what an ass I had made for myself, but it was impossible to turn back - the mark of failed training in the future would be unpleasant penalties. Like, lack of will, perseverance, and all that.

Another unpleasant thing was the four months set for staying at the Sandbox. No, the player had the right to stay here even longer, no one would kick him out, but he began to have various difficulties. For example, the headman stopped giving him quests, and the reputation suddenly fell, and on the way, there were often mini-locations with debuffs and stuff like that. Although I've only encountered mentions of two murky types who lasted so long in the training area - most players tend to go out into the big world. It's more interesting there.

There is a silver lining, though. In real life, I was never in as good physical shape as I am now. At first, of course, it was very difficult, my body groaned despite the help of the suit, but in the end, I got used to it.

And besides, I also had to pick up the usual skills, such as biology or geometry. They gave a minimum increase in characteristics. They took a little game time, so sometimes I thought to give up on them and focus on the tasks. Bad luck - my mother intervened. She laughed for a long time when she heard about my failure with the blacksmith, then, after she calmed down, got into the statistics and started ruminating on why all my school skills were not achieved. A small family scandal broke out, which ended in an agreement: I was closing physics, chemistry, and other school subjects without reducing the pace of learning "Martial arts", and my mother was doubling my pocket money. Because I would no longer have time for the part-time work that I had been doing since I was twelve years old - unofficially and illegally, of course.

About two months passed at this pace, and I decided to take a vacation. I'm sick of it. I'm just sick of everything. I want to rest. It turns out that in the game, I only learn and work, although eight out of ten of my peers come here to have fun for free.

So I arranged with Ivan that I would disappear for about a week and took the long forest quest. It was considered the most difficult in the Yasli, and it was usually done before I went out into the big world. Required to get to the hut of Kasaton's wizard, avoiding all sorts of trouble on the road, and convince the grandfather to come to the village, and the latter task was considered as if not the most difficult - the character persuasion painfully feisty. Strong mobs on the way there were not encountered, traps were also standard, already seen, and the main difficulty lay in the road itself. Orientation in the area, arrangement of the camp, treatment of poisonous viper bite, crossing the river and overcoming a small swamp.

In short, hiking alone, individual survival in nature. Teams are not allowed to go.

As a city dweller, I don't know the forest very well. So, a couple of times, I went out fishing with an overnight stay and on the barbecue with the guys every year. Therefore decided to seek advice from a wise, experienced person because, on the first try, the quest passed not more than a third of the players. And die, albeit in the game, did not want to. They say it hurts.

* * *

"What, " Forest life" has finally been introduced," Uncle Sergei nodded understandingly. "It's about time."

He was a distant relative of mine on my father's side, and he periodically visited my mother and me, bringing me various amusing gizmos. His work in the Ministry of Emergency Situations allowed him to go to different places, even to the outskirts of the solar system, to save people, so he knew his stuff.

"What "Forest life"?"

"A series of new scenarios, written at our request," Uncle Sergey explained. "We decided to reduce the number of quests on Civil Defense, instead increasing the share of our Department."

It turns out that school curricula and game scripts were revised every ten years. Sometimes more often, as during the Buddhist Jihad or the Fiery Revolution, when terrorist activity increased dramatically. The state of the program reflected the influence of this or that ministry and department - the more "specialized" quests they managed to push through, the cooler the current head of the structure. Not surprisingly, officials fought over the scenarios relentlessly.

"Do you have a dog?"

"No, pets are allowed in the big world only."

"Is it some building on the way?"

"Forums says nothing like that."

"That is an overnight stay in the woods," nodded Uncle Sergei. "I see. You know, in the real world, I would recommend you not to sleep at all. One night you'll endure, and the awake man is unlikely to be touched by the beast. But since you have to come out of the virt, and it's considered that the character is asleep at this time, it's better to do so..."

* * *

Nineteenth level. Three months and twenty-nine days of game time.

I did it. Due date, but I did.

The damn "Martial arts" skill had bled a lot on me, literally and figuratively. I had been kicked in the nose a few times during my training, broke my hand, and had a lot of stretch marks and abrasions, to say nothing of them. At the end of the term, I thought to give up everything and exceed the four-month limit but somehow managed to pull myself together and studied without interruption. Luckily, I didn't have to do any tasks - I had enough money and experience, and in my bag, were four books with unexplored spells. In general, with magic there was a funny situation: being a class mage, I owned only six spells (though, well pumped), but the lion's share of time spent on training basic warrior skills. So my stamina and strength had almost doubled compared to my mana.

I glanced at the characteristics chart, ran my eyes over the skills, and cringed when I remembered yesterday's exam. The smith Ivan, whoever he was, took his duties as a mentor very seriously. He demanded from us, his students, severely. And painfully so. The exam cost me a split lip (melee), a broken back (stick), a bruise on my shoulder (club), and two shallow wounds on my chest (knife and sword). Nevertheless, the result counted, and my training was declared complete. Was such agony worth the five characteristic points? No, definitely not. Do I regret having completed the training?

No, I do not regret it.

To know that you've survived, that you've overcome something - that's what it was worth working hard for.

I kind of feel sorry for the boys and girls who didn't get to learn that lesson. They were just playing, leveling up, improving their skills, and probably having a lot more fun. Happy. Well, maybe they have it all ahead of them. The developers will do their best.

I wonder what other lessons the Game has in store for us?

I'll find it soon.

Childhood in the Sandbox is over. I'm standing in front of a fog-draped archway, getting ready to go out into the Big World.

* * *