Chapter Text
“Really?! You’ll hire me?”
Thick yellow eyebrows furrowed at your words. The black bolts that made up their owner’s sideburns seemed to stand on edge. His mustache twitched. Fat fingers dipped into his pocket, pulling out a lighter and a pack of smokes.
“Do you know how bad that sounds?”
You cocked your head and stared at the stubby man from across the break room table. He lit up a cigarette and puffed blue-grey haze into the air. As he did the wrist of his black jacket slid up towards his elbow revealing the tail end of an ornate blue-green tattoo. Casually he stuffed the sleeve under the wrist of his watch and took another puff.
“I’m just saying that the way you put things makes it sound like something is wrong with you.”
You lowered your gaze, staring at the old, scratched varnish of the break room table. “Well... you saw my record.”
“I did.”
You lifted yourself up by a few centimeters and looked him in the eyes. “Then you know society thinks something is wrong with me.”
The middle-aged man cocked his head. “Well...” he mimicked your tone. “...do you think there is?”
“I guess so,” you murmured.
He flicked the cigarette at you, flipping hot ash onto your leg. You shoved it off your lap, fanning out the small burn on your thigh. Your eyes bulged, lips pursing as you held back all the nasty words you were prepared to fling at him.
“If you’re going to work here you need to understand two things:” He raised a single finger. “Number one: your opinion is of little value to me and I’m a busy man. When I ask for it you’d better give it to me honestly or we’re done.”
You looked up, mouth gaping slightly.
“Number two: when I ask a yes or no question I expect a yes or no answer.” He curled up his fingers, squinted his eyes and pouted his large, chapped lips. “I guess!”. His face returned to the expression of a firm, flat, wrinkled day worker again. As it smoothed you could see a multitude of small scars about two or three centimeters long across his lips and cheeks. “I guess isn’t an yes or a no, girly. So if you want this job you’d better figure out YOUR answer. Not society's answer.”
You took a deep breath and held it for a moment. Your eyes shifted upwards to stare at the drop ceiling. There were small stains from years of use and they were too numerous to count. You lowered your gaze and met his. This time your eyes were straight and even.
“Yes, there is something wrong with me,” you stated, clutching your skirt with a tight fist.
He took a deep inhale of smoke and blew it at you. His voice was nearly a growl as he raised one eyebrow. “Oh?”
“And if society as a general entity could answer it would have to answer “yes” too.”
His lips quivered and the brow twitched. He put out the cigarette with a firm hand. The chair scraped across the linoleum behind him.
“Tomorrow we need a closer. Spare uniforms are in the locker room. Go try a few on and tell me what size you are when you get here at 1700.”
“R-right!” you replied, eyes bright with excited tears. “Thank you for this opportunity, Boss.”
The corner of his lip lifted up slightly and he let out a “chccc”. “Thanks for giving me a laugh.”
Three weeks later you threw your bag across the floor and flung both shoes off. It took almost no effort to find yourself face first in the futon. Your throat hurt from yelling the change total at deaf old ladies all day. Minimum wage jobs were hard as hell. Your eyes burned with bitter tears as you realized that, even if things had gone well originally, you might have still had to yell at old deaf ladies.
At least then you would have been a doctor.
The apartment’s walls were bare and a yellowed off-white. Your futon was old but it smelled like your favorite perfume. The minifridge leaked so it had a collection pan under it. The computer was the newest thing in the room but the desk it rested on was “well used” at best. You rolled onto your back, staring up at the popcorn ceiling and took a rattly breath.
Everything sucked.
Inhaling deeply, you climbed upright and staggered your way over to the desktop. A few quick clicks and you were scrolling through mind numbing pictures of cats and puppies in sunflower costumes. It was boring but at least it didn’t make you want to tear out your throat like the thought of being a second shift convenience store clerk for the rest of your life did. The endless scroll was addictive and soon you found yourself forgetting you were hungry and tired. It was like novocaine balm for the brain. The occasional ad would open a new tab but most of them were for things you couldn’t afford or didn’t want. That was why it was so surprising you even noticed the fluffy cat girl shaking her paw at you from a relatively plain top bar ad space.
Seek Your Fate, Find Your Escape: Record of Wisvaine
Escape, huh?
You clicked the banner and found yourself on a pop color page of anime-styled humans in various fantasy gear from armor to leather to cloaks with tall pointed hats. A crescent-shaped island loomed in the background. Black volcanic mountains hung to one side near a shirtless muscular man wearing little more than furs, body paint and earrings. A handsome prince in silver and blue brocade riding a white horse stood bathed in streaming light at the opposite end of the banner.
Choose your style, live your life, find your true self. FREE TO PLAY.
Oh what the heck? Why not?
The game took about fifteen minutes to download from Steam. During that time you started to read up on the reviews.
Female barbarians have too much clothing! Why are only the men bare-chested?! It’s sexist.
The catgirl outfit in the cash shop[1] glitches when you go under its skirt to show some white panties! ＼(￣▽￣)／
The mage costumes are super sexy once you get past level 60.
Your lips curled in disgust. Your eyes rolled and a hand came up to massage the bridge of your nose.
Right… Playing as a guy character to avoid the perverts. Got it.
There were four primary character types in the game: Magician, Barbarian, Knight, Wanderer. At level sixy each of these split into two different classes: Support[2] build Magicians would become Nursewitches while the Area of Effect[3] or Damage Per Second[4] builds became Mysticreavers. Barbarians who preferred to control dragons would become Brutemasters while the heavy attack or DPS group would be Stonebreakers. Knights either were single large sword carrying Valiantmartials (one of the most common tanks[5]) or the dual-wielding DPS Wildsabers. Wanderers with DPS stealth ability became Nightstalkers while those with self buffing abilities became Wayfarbards. As of the last update level 100 the classes then subdivided again into two more splits to account for some “dual build” classes like the Mysticreavers. You hadn’t gotten far enough to know what the upper-tier classes were because that was the end game and level 100s played on a different server.
The official in game listed all the “wonderful” qualities of each class. Nurses were caring and selfless, Reavers were intelligent and wise, Beastmasters were in tune with nature, Stonebreakers were natural champions, Valiants were brave and true, Sabers were faithful and fierce, Stalkers were sneaky and plotting, and Bards were bold and friendly. In game knowledge corrected these to nasty stereotypes about every group. Nurses were attention whores, Reavers were know-it-alls, Beastmasters were vegans or furries, Stonebreakers were perverts, Valiants needed to stop showing off, Sabers did cocaine, Stalkers were NEETs[6] and Bards had huge egos.
For the first two weeks you played as a male barbarian with a balanced skillset. Watching as other characters blew past you with their specialized abilities you realized you’d done this all wrong.
Scraping the original build, you went back to level one and decided to play a full support healer aiming to go Nurse Witch at level sixty Sure you’d have to leech off parties for experience, but everybody loved a full support and there was never a shortage of people who were grateful for a buff[7] here or a random heal there.
At about level thirty, you started to get access to the full island (levels sixty and above could raid foreign countries) and came to realize that the game would be “free to play” but “pay to win”. Suited you fine. You were just along for the ride and as long as you remained awake enough to heal the tank, most parties were happy to have you. The friends list grew so large you had to do cleanouts based on who was logging in on a regular basis.
The one problem with being a full support build was that you basically got dragged along to whatever part of the storyline needed you today. You’d played through some of the quests multiple times and never seen other (less valuable) areas of the island. It was for this reason that you woke up on your day off and decided to silence your direct messages. Now level forty-eight you could safety traverse most of the island by broom without aggro-ing[8] anything you couldn’t handle. Hopping on your broomstick, you buzzed over the Lesser Crescent Falls on the south side of the island.
The graphics were pristine to the point of uncanny valley. Perfect blue-green waters with rolling mist flowing into a winding swap land and then flowing out to the sea. Large trees on small rocky outcroppings allowed you to perch and watch wildlife which thrived in the estuary marshes of the Lesser Crescent River’s mouth. Here the sunlight was perfect for ten hours of the day with never a cloud in the sky. Everything was always glittering and “natural”. Even the rocks had quartz deposits which gave them a sparkle.
In the distance you could make out someone mining enemy “Cocodials” monsters for their teeth. You guessed he was trying to make the high spec battle armor for the Barbarians. However, the black leather gear and bursts of damage didn’t look like the melee combat of the Barbarians. Curious, you hopped on your broom and flitted down to get a better view.
As you circled overhead, you realized the guy was a level sixy-ish Nightstalker. They were probably the best soloing DPS class in the game with their dual wielding knife ability and stealth gear. The Wild Sabers were a twin blade DPS too but they had to blow points on defense or go with a suicidical attack only build and then ride with a tank and healer at all times to survive. Nightstalkers could drop in, do double damage with their stealth strike abilities and then hide before the monsters knew what hit them. They naturally needed speed to wield the knives which also meant they could run away so fast they rarely needed a heal.
At your current build it was natural to party with people about fifteen levels up. They would get the bonus experience points for dragging someone greater than five levels lower along (so long as it wasn’t a twenty level or higher difference) and since you had not wasted any skill points on attack or defense, your buffs were plenty good for the low level raids. You noted this Nightstalker didn’t have any of the telltale glowing aura to indicate he had buffs running. You could fix that.
You dropped into a nearby tree and targeted the Nightstalker. His alias was short: “Shi”- the Japanese word for death. How original. Must have been a pretty early joiner to get a simple name like that.
With a few hits of your hotkey shortcuts Shi’s speed, defense, attack, stamina all went up by thirty percent for five minutes and his cool downtime was shortened by fifteen percent. You watched in the tree as the hoard of “Cocodials” he’d grabbed started dying at a blinding pace. For the next few minutes you watched him grab every last creature within the river until nothing was left behind. Money and items rained like a jungle storm.
You’re welcome. You typed in the general chat box.
I was wondering where the buff came from. He replied. Level?
Fourty five, you answered.
Sixty two
Party?
Item division?
You farming[9] the teeth or shooting for the rare?
Farming the teeth. Trying to get enough for my other account to armor up.
Then you keep all teeth, I’ll take 20% of the cash.
Most NW’s ask for 50-50 in a two person party
I’m bored and not a full NW yet. I don’t have the high level buffs, just the basics.
Fair enough.
Shi turned back to the slowly respawning “Cocodials”. You could hear the gentle ticking of their clockwork hearts increasing in noise. They were at least two times larger than your characters. With obsidian glittering scales and snow white teeth. The stronger version was a light grey with some blood smeared around its muzzle. The mob boss was deep burgundy. He had twice the attack strength and five times the HP of the rest of the mob.
Would you like to hit the mob boss? You asked.
It’s not an efficient use of time for farming. Shi replied.
I know.
Do you just want to watch me beat him up?
You tapped the smile emoticon and your character broke out into a wide grin. Kinda….
Shi returned the gesture. Then let’s kick his ass.
By the time moonrise occurred, you and Shi were sitting in a tree in the middle of the swamp. The Cocodials had little yellow fluorescent spots along their spine, making it easy to see them even after the sun had set. The marsh was echoing with crickets and cicadas. Fireflies flitted between the tall reeds casting glowing lights along the byways of the mire. Torches with dim blue flames lit the main dirt path along the river. The rush of the waterfall was audible but muted by all the other sounds. Ticking noises still came and went as the monsters crossed the area from time to time.
In the real world, you glanced at the small digital clock in the corner of your computer. Nearly one am. Geeze.
It’s late. I’m surprised you’re still up, bro, you typed in the general chat.
I figured you’d have ditched two hours ago. The grinding gets old if you’re not getting much out of it. You really were bored. the Nightstalker replied back.
This. Your character raised his arm and pointed at the swap. Is much better than RL.
How many levels did you climb?
Just one, but normally that would take me four times as long. You’re a pretty efficient DPS.
Well next time I’m farming I’ll be sure to drag you along.
You smiled and felt a soft flutter in your chest. I’d like that.
Friendlist?
I would like that. You popped open the window to send a request.
You’re probably the only Nursewitch I’ve seen that speaks in whole sentences. Usually it’s some grody old man playing a female who pops in and demands 100% of the money so he can buy his digital bitch some more panties without using the cash shop.
I don’t even see that many Nightstalkers. I figured it’d be more popular given it’s a badass name.
You have to know how to do the build right or your ass gets handed to you. Besides the Wildsaber armor is hardcore at level 75. Anybody who wants a suicide DPS usually wants it for the looks.
You frowned. Suicide builds focused on straight attack power and speed. A true suicide build put zero skill points into defense which is why they never soloed. You needed to hide behind a tank, be healed constantly or be stupid good at real-time strategy, and have high tier gear to survive.
You’re farming at mobs with a suicide build and no tank?
Nightstalkers are the best for it since they can bolt if they take a big hit.
I guess. Seems reckless as hell.
I can always respawn if I die. It’s just a game.
Your fingers hovered over the keyboard. Oh… Yeah... It was just a game. Your eyes squinted at the dark blob of your old futon. The paint on the wall just above it was peeling. Then you looked back at your slim yet cut male character with his intricate leather armor and garnet red hair. His face was impossibly handsome with deep mauve eyes and flawless creamy skin. You were wearing sweat pants with bleach stains.
Won’t lie. I kinda wish it wasn’t. You replied.
Want to go farm the Shrieking Eels at the top of the waterfall next?
Sure. I’m second shift. I got time.
Badass. Shi jumped on a black cloud which was the flying item for his class. Race you.
Bitch, I’ve got the level 15 basic broomstick. That’s no race! That’s a tetraplegic turtle chasing an eagle.
Then move your legless ass.
Fuck you. I’ll let you get electroshocked death. Try me.
Shi’s character was being spammed with the laugh command as he flew off towards the top of the cliff.