“I’m starting to think you’re looking to get yourself hurt,” Grif says as he uses his healing ability on me, leaving me feeling on pins and needles. Like the previous times, I’m not healed fully. A little over three quarters.

The comment has me clenching my teeth. I got hurt trying to get away from all of them.

You took on something you knew nothing about, my mother’s voice chastises me.

The trust is that I needed to hit something and it was convenient. At least it wasn’t as defenseless as that tree last night.

“You don’t need to try so hard,” Grif says. “Only a few of them resent that you’re in charge.”

“I’m not in charge.”

My statement surprises him.

“You lead and they follow.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m heading in a direction and they follow. There’s a difference.”

“I guess there is. There, I’m out of mana. It’s the best I can do.”

“Thank you,” I force myself to say. There is no ulterior motive in him being nice, I remind myself. It’s just what people do. What normal people do.

When the pins and needles fade, I stand. People are milling about at the edge of the parking lot. Not one of them is stepping onto it. Hanz and Elizabeth are the only ones who braved it to get me, although Terry gave Mary a hard time about keeping him from helping. I’m sure that without Bernard at her side, Terry would have come anyway.

There is surprisingly little eagerness on most of the faces while looking at what has to be our last chance at resupply until we reach Harrisonburg. With it being the largest city anywhere close by, everyone we’re not meeting has to be heading there, and everything will be looted.

The fact the building is intact gives me hope it’s untouched, although I can’t understand how it is, with the destroyed Lowe’s next to it.

“How should we do this?” Hanz asks as I move to the front.

Any way you want, I want to reply. Snap, scream. I’m not in charge, they don’t want me in charge. No one in their right mind should even think of following in my footsteps. In this new, crazy, world, the only thing I’m going to do is get each and everyone of them killed.

I close my eyes and the green bar drops as I work at silencing my father’s voice. It doesn’t drop as much as I feared. Maybe my years of experience doing this means it isn’t as costly.

“I don’t know.”

“We should team up,” Terry says excitedly, makes a motion and—

Terry Hughes has invited you to join his Party

Hanz chuckles. “There’s party mechanics?”

“Isn’t that great?” Terry says.

I have no idea what they’re talking about. I dismiss the message and open my mouth.

“You don’t want to join?” Terry asks, disappointed.

I close my mouth on the reply, breath, then answer. “I don’t know what that is.”

He eyes me suspiciously. “You don’t look that old.”

“Terry!” Elizabeth chastises him. Hanz snickers in his hand.

“Come on, Mom, even you know what’s up with a party.”

She gives me a sheepish smile; as if that explains anything.

“I’m with the Kid,” John says. “I’m older than you and I know enough about those worlds of whatever game to know you form a party when you play so you can keep track of everyone.”

“It also ensures you get a proper distribution of experience,” Terry says.

“Not always,” Hanz adds. “Some game still go with whoever does the kill.”

“None of the good ones do.”

I watch them argue about which video game is the better one. I recognize a few names from them showing up on this or that podcast, but since they’re about the economy, cars, or engineering, there’s never the kind of added details that make anything they’re saying make sense.

“You guys get this isn’t a game, right?” I say when they pause for breath.

“There’s enough similarity it might as well be,” Hanz replies.

“What happens in a game when you die?” I demand. His expression tells me he figured out where I’m going.

“You respawn,” Terry answers.

“Here you don’t.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“You don’t know that,” he scoffs.

“I do.” There haven’t been that many bodies, surprisingly few actually, but there is one I know for a fact is there since I put it there.

“Then we just don’t die,” he replies.

I have nothing for that. I look at Elizabeth, and she looks concerned.

Terry’s going to get himself killed. Or worse, he’s going to get someone else killed.

“Any of that aside,” John says. “I agree with Terry that you should join the party.”

Terry moves, but his mother catches his hand. I don’t think gestures are needed to get stuff to happen, but I don’t get another invitation.

“I’d like in,” Grif says. “I don’t know that I’ll be good in a fight, but since I can heal, I’d pull my weight.”

“A healer’s always good.” Terry looks at me hopefully.

“Why do you want me?”

“Because you’re the leader,” Terry replied. How did the kid manage to imply the ‘duh’ so damned loudly?

Grif adds nothing. He doesn’t even smirk.

Is it even worth telling him I’m not? “What’s the actual use of it? What does it do?”

“It depends on the game,” Hanz says before Terry can speak. “But in some it lets you see where everyone is on the map. It can mark the party members as friendlies so they don’t get hurt by your attacks.”

“I don’t think we can count on that,” Grif says. “From the little I’ve seen yesterday and today, I don’t think the system is that considerate.”

“Some games let the healer work through the party list.”

“Do we get to access any details about each other through that?” I have enough experience asking questions, the answers of which might not be what I want to hear, I can hide my discomfort.

“No,” Terry asked, disappointed.

Or my elation. I don’t care what the system said about needing high-level stuff to get a look at my sheet. This could have been an easy way around it. Although…

“How do you know?”

“My mom, Hanz, John, and Grif already joined. I can see their names, and level of hit points, mana, stamina, and willpower. No numbers, just the bars telling me how full they are. We’re going to have to tell you what we’re able to do so you can strategize.”

Someone had delusions of what I’m capable of.

Have more confidence. My mother whispers to me.

It’s not a lack of confidence, it’s a realistic assessment of my abilities. “Send me the invitation.” It appears and I accept. A window appears with their names and four colors bars next to them. I move it to my left. I’m tempted to dismiss it, but my first walk onto the parking lot showed that danger can appear at any time.

“Maybe we should get everyone to join the party,” Griff suggests. “I’d be able to better manage who needs healing.”

“We can’t,” Terry replies. “Parties are capped at six.”

“Why?” I ask and Terry shrugs.

“Then maybe we should at least get them to party together?” Griff says.

“I don’t know that people are going to want to be this close-knit to strangers,” John replies. “And unless they’re heading into a dangerous situation, what’s the point?”

“I’m sure there are others with knowledge of games,” I say, to prevent more discussion. “They’ll work out it’s there and decide for themselves. How are you for weapons? That thing was tough.”

“I have magic,” terry says with an ‘I don’t need weapon’ undertone.

John lifts his jacket to show the holster. “Unfortunately, I’m low on ammo. Me and the wife don’t like traveling with too much of it. Cops get touchy when they see a case of bullets in the trunk.”

I open my mouth to ask why would anyone consider having that many bullets in their cars, but the easy acceptance from the others reminds me of how different things are in the US.

“So that’s something you’re hoping to get inside?”

John nods.

“I’m looking for food,” I say. “Canned and non-perishables. I’m planning on finding out if there’s a limit on how many items my inventory slots can hold.”

“Oh,” Hanz says. “We should get backpacks. They’re limited to only a couple of slots, but there work like our inventory otherwise. Not everyone’s going to have as many slots as we do.”

“How many do you have?” John asks suspiciously.

“I have thirty-six,” Elizabeth says. “And to answer your question, Chuck. I don’t have weapons, but my class comes with combat abilities.”

“Thirty-six too,” Hanz says, “and I also have combat abilities, but if there’s a sword in the sport’s section, I’ll be practicing that.”

John looks at me. I’m the other strong-looking person here. “Twenty-five. I’ve been fighting with my barbell since it’s all I have on hand since this started.” My father warns me against adding more. “Enough, I’ve got few levels in staff and clubs.”

“Well, I’m feeling weak. I have nine,” John admitted. “So yeah, a backpack’s going to be handy.”

John looks at Grif, who chuckles. “Do I look like I’d have more than you?” He’s on the thin side too. “As for fighting, I have archery at three, from when I was a kid, I’m guessing, but I wouldn’t bother getting a bow. I’m not a fighter.”

“So we—”

“No one’s going to ask me?” Terry asks.

“Ask what?” John replies.

“How many slots I have.”

“Nine, I’m guessing.”

“Four.”

I’m surprised. He doesn’t look any weaker than any teenagers I’ve seen.

“What’s your strength?” Hanz asks.

“Eight. I get a two-point penalty because of my age, and I’m not someone who’s worked out before.”

“You’re going to get points to assign,” His mother says, “so you’ll be able to change that.”

“I’m not putting those in strength,” he replies.

“If you want to,” she amends with a chuckle. “I think as many backpacks as we can bring back is a good idea.”

“Should we ask if anyone else wants to come?” Grif asks. “They can form their own teams and follow.”

“They’re going to follow on their own.” I know that from two days of experience. I look the parking lot over. “Terry, Hanz. You two are our experts on this. Is there a way to know if there are more creatures hiding out there?”

“Not unless you have a skill or ability,” Terry answers.

“Yeah. We didn’t get any kind of danger notification when we approached or stepped onto the parking lot.”

“That’s a thing?”

“In certain games,” the orc says. “Regions will be rated, and with experience, you can figure out how that translates to creature levels and quantities.”

“Or you can read the Wiki,” Terry says.

“Or you can read the Wiki,” Hanz confirms with a chuckle.

“Then we move carefully. The ground shook a little before the one I kill burst out, to be vigilant for that.” I pull my barbell out of my inventory. If there are some inside, I’m stocking up. This one’s already bent.

We move slowly, and I’m surprised when no one follows us.

That’s because they are smart.

No argument there. We make it to the midpoint without getting attacked, and I can feel the tension rise. What are the odds that creature was the only one here? I look at the damage to the parking lot. Very low.

Except, now that I know what to look for, there are a lot of black tar patches around us. Was this one the victor of some battle royale?

We make it to the entrance and my shoulders loosen.

“You guys think it’s going to be this easy on the way back?” John asks, holstering his gun.

“Not a chance,” Hanz answers. “I’ve seen too many movies to know how that goes. The moment we leave with our supplies, this place is going to be filled with monsters.”

The door didn’t open at our approach, because there’s no power, so I put my try to pry them apart.

Dungeon: Walmart, Class, unknown

Warning: you are the first to access this dungeon, therefore the system is unable to provide any information about it. As an incentive to explore it, all experience gained inside is tripled upon exit. The bonus only applies to the first party to enter and only applies on the first exit of the dungeon.

Do you wish to enter this dungeon? Yes/No?

“You’ve been watching the wrong movies, Hanz,” John says. “I could have told you this here was going to be the problem.”