Marshmallow got to his feet quickly. He looked around and saw a tangle of tall trees and plants. The sun was blocked by the branches, and what looked like snowflakes were falling from above. Marshmallow touched them with his fingers and noticed that the flakes were warm, not cold. They weren't snowflakes, they were ashflakes. Ashes were falling from the sky. The strange phenomenon had shrouded everything around him in a blanket of ashen mist.
What fascinated him most was how the game's programmers had so faithfully reproduced reality. It was uncanny, feeling like everything was real! He moved his body and touched himself all over, feeling the solidity and texture of his skin. No doubt about it, his body remained the same. Every breath, every heartbeat was all so vivid and familiar.
Plus, his back didn't hurt anymore. The feeling of well-being that enveloped his entire body took him by surprise; he felt just like he did before the lashes, maybe even better. What kind of sorcery was this? This virtual reality was something incredibly far-reaching.
There was just one thing left to check: his appearance. So, he carefully observed his surroundings. He noticed a puddle a few steps away, approached it, and looked through it to see a reflection that surprised him. It was Marshall Merson, the real one, without the mask he wore. He saw a 20-year-old former soldier, with short brown hair, brown eyes, and a fit physique. Apparently, they had removed his black-crimson uniform, and now he was wearing a plain white t-shirt and a pair of comfortable jeans, attire that much more resembled his days working for that slaver, O’Connell.
He looked around again. Found a sturdy backpack with the label: Marshmallow’s Backpack.
“A backpack? They left me a personal backpack?” Marshmallow wondered. Wasting no time, he rummaged through it. Wanting to be sure he checked everything, he emptied the backpack, placing everything on the ground quickly.
A pack of matches. Essential, though he knew how to start a fire on his own.
A thermal blanket. Perfect for big temperature shifts. The climate was mild at the moment, but what would it be like at night? And more importantly, did night even exist? If the programmers provided it, it must be needed, right?
A flashlight. Great, but how long would it last?
Bandages and a first-aid kit. He sighed with relief seeing them.
Finally, a folding knife. Now he really felt like a true survivor! He was satisfied with the survival kit, but no trace of food or water. He would have to procure those himself. Could it be a problem? Maybe, but Marshmallow would have known how to find food and water resources on his own anyway.
Outside the backpack, apparently, they had left him one last gift that seemed to have nothing to do with the rest of the equipment. A long, rough board with a row of rusty nails protruding from one side. Marshmallow bent down to pick it up, and as he examined it closely, suddenly found himself facing a green screen.
ITEM Nailed Board Description A simple wooden board with nails on one side. Definitely a makeshift weapon. Minimum Requirements None
But what the heck...
Marshmallow was deeply intrigued by that screen. So the host was serious? This really was an RPG video game! But before he could ponder further, a piercing voice interrupted him.
“Allow me to introduce myself, player. I am Ada. I’m the AI responsible for explaining the rules of the BR-RPG 'The Survivor Game' to you.”
Marshall froze for a moment. An explanation? Finally! He was tired of having only half the information. A wave of relief washed over him; now he could start making sense of things.
“Hi, Ada. What place is this?” Marshall asked, trying to get a better grasp of the situation.
“You are inside the Ashenwood. Each of you players has been randomly dispatched to a point on the map. As you well know, there are 1000 players, divided into two different teams, randomly distributed across the map. Now I will show you the game.”
Marshmallow furrowed his brow, feeling a painful spot in his head. Something new had formed in his mind.
“What happened? Ada, what's this sensation?” Marshall murmured when scratching his head at the sore spot, on the back of his neck.
“You have acquired the ability to access the game menu. This is essential for defining your character's build, setting parameters, and placing statistics. Try calling it up with your voice.” Ada suggested.
Menu? Character? Statistics? In an instant, Marshmallow felt as if he had been catapulted into the world of “Mechs & Mages”, an old MMORPG for PC he had been fond of as a kid. In that game, players had the freedom to become heavily armed mech pilots or powerful mages wielding destructive spells.
There too was a similar panel to what he now had in front of him, and the familiarity of those elements made him feel like he had stepped back in time. With a sense of déjà vu, Marshmallow said out loud: “Menu”. Immediately, a new panel appeared before him.
Marshmallow's Menu
STATUS
QUESTS
RANKS
“Incredible!” Marshmallow exclaimed, running a hand through his hair in amazement. Was this magic, by any chance? Marshmallow couldn’t believe his eyes. Without hesitation, he pressed his finger on the first option: Status. In an instant, the statistics screen appeared before him.
STATUS Player Name Marshmallow Rank Jolly Age 20 Faction Wyolands EXP 0/100 Level 1 Strength 13 + 0 bonus Dexterity 11 + 0 bonus Constitution 15 + 0 bonus Stamina 14 + 0 bonus Perception 16 + 0 bonus Luck 06 + 0 bonus Assignable Points 0
Marshmallow wasn't much of a gamer anymore, having not played in a long time. However, he found the interface quite intuitive. There were numbers next to attributes like Strength, Dexterity, or Perception. Then he paused, thinking hard.
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“Wait a minute,” Marshmallow said. “These numbers seem pretty accurate. My strength is decent, but not exceptional. But I've always been pretty reactive. And definitely never been lucky.” He concluded.
“Correct.” Ada chimed in. “Our programmers have decoded your real-life stats and introduced them into the game. However, you should know that the initial sum of your stats is fixed at 75, just like every other player. Every time you level up, you'll gain 3 Assignable Points that you can distribute as you wish among your stats. You can also choose to accumulate them to distribute later.”
Marshmallow nodded, bewildered but intrigued. “Okay, so it's like I'm playing an RPG of my life. Interesting.”
“Now try opening the Quest section,” Ada suggested again.
“Uh, and how should I... ah, there!”
Looking at the top left of the screen, Marshmallow noticed an arrow-shaped icon. He tapped it and returned to the menu to then select the Quest option. A new screen opened in an instant.
QUEST Main Disintegrate the opponents Optional Reach level 5 within 168 hours
Marshmallow was puzzled. “That's it?”
“The optional quests will only get harder,” Ada explained. “Player, rest assured that there will never be a shortage of optional quests. The main quest is obviously the one that must be followed, but optional quests are also important for accumulating experience and improving your stats.”
Marshmallow nodded, absorbing the information. “Got it, so it’s wise to complete optional quests.”
“Exactly,” Ada said once more. “Now let me explain what makes your uniqueness: your Jolly Rank.”
With those words, Ada immediately captured Marshmallow’s attention. Without saying anything, he made the same movement on the virtual screen, but this time chose the Ranks option. A new screen appeared.
RANKS E Rank 10 Assignable Points D Rank 20 Assignable Points C Rank 40 Assignable Points B Rank 40 Assignable Points + Unique Skill A Rank 40 Assignable Points + Very Unique Skill Jolly Rank No Assignable Points. If the Jolly Rank kills a B Rank, steals their Unique Skill. If the Jolly Rank kills an A Rank, it steals their Very Unique Skill. Whoever kills the opposing Jolly Rank gains all the Unique Skills and Very Unique Skills they have acquired up to that point
“As you see, the Jolly Rank is quite special. If you manage to kill a B Rank player, you can steal their Unique Skill. If you eliminate an A Rank, you'll gain their Very Unique Skill. However, there's a downside. If someone kills you, they'll steal all the Unique and Very Unique Skills you've accumulated so far.” Ada explained.
Marshmallow felt a knot in his stomach as he assimilated the information. Now he understood what the host with the bull mask meant. Currently, without any kind of bonuses or special abilities, he was indeed weaker than an E Rank player. Did he have to look for an opponent powerful enough to steal a Unique Skill from? And how would he find one? Marshmallow had become the target of the entire Novgovia team, a walking jackpot for anyone who managed to kill him.
Marshmallow stared intensely at the stats screen, digesting the information Ada had provided. “Okay, so now that I know how the Jolly Rank works, what are my next steps? Where do I find an opponent with a Unique Skill to steal? And what exactly is this ‘Unique Skill’?” He asked, hoping for a detailed answer.
Silence.
“Ada? Are you there? I asked you some questions...”
No response. The silence was total as if Ada had suddenly decided to leave him to his fate.
“Great! Fantastic! What's the use of an AI that disappears just when I need it?” Marshmallow exclaimed, upset and frustrated.
Then he heard a rumble from his stomach, followed by a dry sensation in his throat. He realized he was hungry and thirsty, and now had to worry about this too.
“I'm in an unknown world, with a Rank that seems more a curse than a blessing, and without a plan of action. And now I'm hungry and thirsty. Really a great start.” He muttered to himself. With a heavy sigh, he furiously pressed the back arrows on the screen to exit the menu until it disappeared completely.
He looked around for any sign of food or water, scanning the misty horizon of the Ashenwood. Nothing. Just vegetation. He would have to venture out if he wanted to find a way to sustain himself.
Reorganizing the backpack, Marshmallow put back every item he had taken out earlier, making sure everything was neatly arranged. He slung it over his shoulder, feeling the weight of the backpack on him. Armed only with his unanswered questions and a nailed board, he paused for a moment.
“Now the game begins." He said. He set off, that thought accompanying him into the unknown world of the Survivor Game as he delved into the underbrush, ready to face whatever lay ahead. Now, more than ever, he knew that the real challenge was to survive.