The closest beast snatched a strap on my jumpsuit and yanked me down. Twisting just in time, I fell on my thigh and shoulder instead of smacking my skull on the concrete. Reaching for my hip a screen popped up:
Inventory it read.
Thankfully, it paused the game since a mouth larger than my head loomed over me, jaws gaping as it prepared to chomp my flesh. I exhaled a deep breath. This unexpected pause gave me a minute or two to think, but I had to leave my hand against the pouch to keep it active. Once I took it off or made a selection, the game would resume. As my eyes focused on each available item, it became highlighted in bright swirling white lines.
Inventory
- Protein Bar – Restores Full HP
- JumPack Energy Drink – Increases all stats by +2 for 90 seconds
- Boot Knife – Slashing +1 / Armor Piercing +1
- Orange Emerald – Sells for 125 TK
- Small Dried Ox Meat – Restores 20 HP
My browsing was interrupted by the sensation of liquid running down my calf. ‘One of them got me!’ I frantically thought, noticing that leg of my suit turning dark as it was drenched in blood.
With no other choice, I selected the Ox Meat and ate, then returned right back to my inventory. I felt the skin on my calf being tugged together as the suit was compressing it to slow the bleeding. Carefully I sat upright, ensuring my hand remained on the pouch to keep my inventory screen active.
“It must be gluing it shut,” I noted after the oozing feeling of seeping blood had stopped. “Alright, I’ll only get one chance at this,” I said, leaping to my feet before I downing the JumPack.
Fierce growls and gnashing teeth continued after me as I ran. The item gave me enough of a stat boost to keep me a few steps ahead of the creatures. At least for now.
‘Almost there,’ I told myself, seeing the double doors of the building draw closer. But their wretched breath caught my nose again. ‘Shit! They’re right behind me!’
BLAM! BLAM!
Instinctively, I ducked and threw my arms overhead. More sharp pops followed as one of the beasts slammed into my legs, toppling me over. “Dammit!” I yelled, rolling to my stomach, praying to El-Kazir that I wouldn’t get mangled by these hounds.
BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!
More shots rang out as a heavy object slammed to the ground inches from my face. It was another cyber-canine. The last two fell in similar fashion a few feet away, and a group of armed men casually stepped over their fallen corpses.
“Don’t even think about it,” one of them said, his voice gravelly voice and charred like burnt coal.
Peering up, I saw he was wearing a black bandanna over his mouth emblazoned with a skull crushing something between its teeth. The rest of his tactical gear was the same shade of chalk-board black but outlined in silver trim.
“These kills are ours to scavenge,” he said coolly, kneeling to face me.
I clutched my hip and grimaced, feeling the sting from it having absorbed both my falls. “They’re all yours,” I replied, raising an arm to show my intent to leave.
The lenses on his goggles flipped from the static checkered pattern to clear, revealing squinting green eyes. “You from the outside?” he asked, tone growing harsher.
“He’s with me!” a bright voice yelped from afar. A short man in a trucker hat and brown overalls jogged beside me. Tufts of curly gray hair poked out from underneath his hat. “He’s part of my shop crew."
The man in the tac-gear slung his short-barrel rifle behind his back and crossed his arms, deliberating whether he was being honest.
“Thanks,” I said, patting the short man on the shoulder, understanding his ruse. I reached into my inventory and grabbed the boot knife. “I brought this back for our stock; I’ll get a better haul tomorrow.”
“It’s ok, I’ll give you better gear next time,” the short merchant said, patting my back before walking away.
As I followed, I fought the urge to look back at the man who’d shot the beasts down. Clearly the merchant wanted me to appear as a towny, instead of an outsider. The more casual I treated this occurrence, the better. We walked down an alley, before reaching a metal door, which he unlocked with a small gold key.
“You can recover here,” he said, opening it.
Inside the room were several motorized bikes and scooters. The largest vehicle was around three feet tall with no top and three wheels. Like a gas-powered tricycle. Some seemed further along in their assembly than others. I wasn’t sure if he fixed them, constructed them, or both.
“You can have a seat over there,” he instructed, pointing to a wheeled mechanic’s stool. “It’s going to take a bit for me to get everything setup.”
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
I spun the stool close and sat. “And what exactly are you setting up?”
He glanced over his shoulder at me. “You’ll need to select your gear if you wish to last longer than the last guy.”
My face hardened. “You remember Mason?”
His posture stiffened as he convulsed for a few uncomfortable seconds before jerking back to his former pose. While his back was turned, I unhooked my debug pistol and swiped to scan mode. I leaned on my hip and inconspicuously hovered the cursor over his ankles. Since scan mode didn’t pause the game, if he happened to turn around, I didn’t want him thinking I was going to shoot him.
No Issues Detected it read.
I kept my eyes forward as I holstered. He was soldering a few wires together and hadn’t noticed. It was odd that my gun didn’t find any glitches. That seizing was common when NPCs accessed dialogue outside their given programming. If this guy wasn’t supposed to speak about previous players, I thought it would display a line of code I could fix. Then I remembered what I’d been told by Ijimori. How some of these characters ran on generative AI. The last time I dealt with that style of programming, I’d needed to enter a quest with branching choices to bypass the NPC’s firewalls. Then the game let me edit the source code. Obviously, devs didn’t want tech-savvy players accessing their AI models, so they usually added a few extra steps. Still, it was weird to get a clear readout after the character obviously glitched. I decided to shelve my concerns and move on, maybe if I spoke about it another way, I could break through and fix the issue.
“Do you always help outsiders?” I asked loudly, ensuring he heard me over his work.
He sighed, setting the small soldering iron down. “No, I rarely do. I’m technically beholden to the Caps, so I try to stay away from things they don’t like.”
“Caps?” I asked.
“It’s short for Capacitor. Every faction here is named after something technical. Across the way are the Coils, and the third one is run by the Circuit.” He turned on his heel, resting his back against the tall workbench. “Believe me, you don’t want anything to do with them. They’re easily the most dangerous one.”
I crossed my arms. “I’m guessing each of them have someone like you?”
“What do you mean?” he replied.
“Someone who repairs their tech. I’m guessing these bikes are theirs?” I asked rhetorically.
He chuckled, shaking his head. “No. I can sell these to whoever I want. There are others who run shops in each faction’s tower, but we sell different stuff. Leave over saturation to the Dead Zone.”
Watching me raise my eyebrow quizzically in response, he decided to explain further. “That’s the area those canines tore through. The one with all the mish-mashed stores. It’s a good thing you ran this way during that scuffle. Caps have the best guns and can take them out quick. If you ran toward Coil’s tower, they wouldn’t have the firepower to deal with that many in such a such a short time.”
“Hmm,” I huffed thankfully. “What weapons do the other factions use?”
He waved a hand, clearly annoyed. “That’s not important right now. What is important, is that I get your gear ready before morning. You can stay here tonight, but you’ll have to find your own spot after that.”
“Aren’t I supposed to be your new hired help?” I inquired with a grin.
He rolled his eyes. “Alright, three days. But that’s all. The Caps inspect me once a week and I don’t have time to create a decent cover story. Like I said before, they are NOT fond of outsiders. If you spend enough time here, you’ll learn the ropes and they won’t notice.”
“Why risk your neck for a stranger?” I asked. “You could have easily let them capture me.”
He looked around the room, as if worried someone might be hiding in a dark corner. Finally, he stared at me directly, his cold blue eyes surrounded by wrinkled skin. “There’s been a balance here for years, established by the factions. But it wasn’t always like that. Before their control, this place was lawless, savage. The Circs have been encroaching on our agreed peace, and now that balance is teetering. I don’t want to go back to how it was before. If you can make it all the way through the desert to get here, then I think you can help me deal with them.”
I sat upright, unsure how I was being chosen for this. Then I blinked and remembered I was in a video game. It had been some time since an NPC had such believable behavior and dialogue.
‘This studio really has their act together,’ I thought. ‘I know whoever plays this is meant to be the chosen one, but his delivery is more sincere than the typical melodramatic style.’
“I’m guessing by Circs, you mean the Circuit faction, and are they the ones unleashing those things I ran from?” I asked.
“No, I can’t pin the beasts on them. Not yet. This place has always dealt with a few wild animals here and there. Even the occasion bandit crew. Recently though, there’s been strange things roaming around that aren’t typical. I saw the way you handled yourself back there. You had nothing to your name, and unlike everyone else in the Dead Zone, you tried to fight back.” He took a step closer, pointing a finger at my chest. “This place needs more people like you. People who have guts, but aren’t aligned with any faction.”
“Alright,” I answered. “If you think I can be of help that’s great, but I’ll need more than your word to survive.”
He thumbed over his shoulder. “That’s why I need to finish…”
“I know that,” I said casualy, waving him off. “I need money if I’m going to find my own place in three days. So, do you have any work?”
Most in-game economies were busted, either giving you tons of cash you never needed or not giving you enough to buy anything useful. If I was going to deliver a thorough report on this game, I needed to find an opening to get currency. Him mentioning earlier to obtain my own lodging gave me an in.
“You’re right,” he mumbled under his breath, scratching the white stubble on his chin thoughtfully. He looked to the ceiling, wagging a finger. “I do have something you can deliver for me, but I’ll worry about that once you pick your equipment.”
I leaned back against the counter behind me. “Sounds good to me. I’m interested to see what you’re making over there.” As he approached his desk, I realized something I hadn’t asked. “Hey, I never caught your name. Mine’s Jin,” I said, rising from my stool to extend my hand.
He turned to face me, clasping my hand with his gloved one. “I’m Rex.”
“Good to meet you, and thanks again for saving me back there,” I said appreciatively.
He reached his hand near his forehead, tilting his head as if he was tipping a hat brim at me. “Not a problem, kid. Now, let me fix this up so you can deliver that bike.”
“A bike?” I quickly answered. “So, I’ll get to try one of these out?”
“Sort of,” he replied. “The one I need delivered is stored in another gara…” he stopped himself, shaking his head. “You keep getting ahead of me.”
He grabbed the soldering iron and got back to work. I watched as a pie chart appeared over his head, which was slowly filling up. Since I had time to kill, I decided it was best to start drafting my report for SensEight. Everyone had a different pace when logging issues. Some techs liked to deliver one large report at the end. I preferred to send shorter ones in quicker intervals, so I could take it off my plate. I was sure the devs would be interested in the dialogue issue I found, and wanted to get them a preliminary report soon. I blinked a few times in the right sequence, causing a screen and keyboard to project in front of me, then got to typing.