“Glad that’s over.” He sighed, dropping his shoulders.

“What is our next objective, Alan?”

He looked up at the crescent moon, and then he checked the time on his menu screen. 8:15 p.m.

“We still need a map and a way to get to Londorus, but we’ll deal with that tomorrow. We need a place to stay the night.”

And who knows if I'll be able to afford it. I only have 30 gold left.

“Do users need to sleep inside the Novus too?” Ashley asked, without taking her eyes off her path.

“Yes, it’s the same as eating. Humanity must never forget what makes us imperfect beings.”

Speaking of imperfections...

Alan looked at the surrounding people. Women looked gorgeous, wearing makeup and revealing clothes that accentuated their curves, and men looked gallant, of perfect physique and handsome features.

I feel like an ugly duckling walking among beautiful swans. So, if you could change your physical appearance any way you like it, would you do it? I suppose these people have already given me their answers.

He glanced at a handsome couple, looking neither man nor woman, holding hands and asking each other what they should dine tonight. Even their voices could not give away a clear gender.

These model-like people make me feel jealous. I’d like to walk alongside a cute girl too, you know!?

He glanced at Ashley, walking while shaking her hips.

Yaaaaaassss!

“Ashley, you’re perfectly blending among the other users now!”

“Thanks, Alan. I could replicate every one of the waitresses' mannerisms and their way of speaking.”

“Yes, I noticed! I mean... Good job.”

Is it considered evil that I taught an advanced A.I. to catwalk? Of course not! Just look at her! It suits her perfectly!

“Alan, what is that?” She pointed at a purple light soaring in the sky.

The surrounding people looked up too.

“It’s someone's Flying Mount!” a man said aloud. “It looks huge! Make space before it lands over here. Go!”

The residents of Unus took caution and left a space at the center of downtown, where a tacky monument of the current mayor stood proudly.

The ball of fire and violet stardust came to a halt in midair and started descending slowly. It was a huge winged, black, chubby cat. The flapping of its wings blew the hair of the people around it and made the windows of the nearby establishments shake.

Its impatient riders jumped down: A serious, stoic bulky man, a grim, tired-looking young man, and a smirking girl. The three were wearing black armor and red cloaks and seemed to look for someone as their mythical beast finally landed, quietly snarling.

A girl next to Alan recognized their emblem immediately. “They’re from Shooting Stars.”

“You’re right,” the guy next to her said. “But why would they be here? This is literally the last place they would come to.”

Alan’s heart raced. Astrid must have sent them! She must have checked my location in her Friend List.

“Hey, Shooting Stars! Here!” Alan waved at them, but Ashley quickly pulled him from the arm.

“Alan, wait. Something is wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“Signals, messages. The system is throwing me all kinds of information that I barely understand.”

What is she talking about?

The group's girl spoke first, grinning. “Hi, I’m Marissa Laflamme, nice to meet you, Alan Warden!”

See? I knew it.

“So you know who I am? Sweet! Listen, I was wondering if you could give us a ride to where Astrid Bradford is? It’s important that I speak to her.”

“Oh, we know everything about you, Alan Warden. That’s why we’re here!”

“Finally, some good luck. Come on, Ashley, let’s go,” Alan stepped forward, but his partner remained still on her spot. What is wrong with…?

Alan heard someone approaching him. He turned around and found the tallest of the three guild members staring at him. “Come with us, Alan Warden,” the man said, grabbing his arm.

A cracking sound was heard.

“Goddammit!” Alan cried, falling to his knees, startling the guild member and the surrounding people.

“What did that man do?”

“I think he broke his arm.”

The surrounding people stared at Alan, finally noticing what made him worth searching for.

“Is he level 5? That’s impossible.”

“Yeah, even if he was living under a rock...”

“Hey, maybe it’s a contagious bug! Don’t get near him!”

“That would explain why Shooting Stars is looking for him! He will get straight to quarantine or something.”

“Does that mean he’s a bugged fugitive?”

The crowd stepped back, looking at him like the originator of a plague.

“What the hell are you doing, Oscar!” the lanky Shooting Star shouted from his place. “We’re supposed to bring him alive! Who knows where he’ll respawn if you kill him with your stupidly large hands!”

“I-it’s not my fault that he’s weak as shit!” Oscar replied, lifting Alan off the ground and carrying him on his shoulder.

What the hell is happening?! This sudden reunion has something weird about it! It’s more like a random enemy encounter!

Alan spoke, feeling nauseous. “Hey, Shooting Stars, why does this feel like a kidnapping?!”

“Because it is?” Marissa said, chuckling.

“Alan?” Ashley called, trying to reach out to him, but Marissa grabbed her by the shoulder.

“Don’t worry about him, he’ll be fine. Matthew here is the best healer in the guild, so he’ll patch whatever that brute Oscar accidentally does to your friend. Unfortunately, we only had one seat available."

Without an opportunity to get away, Ashley got mortally stabbed in the back.

Drops of blood stained the paved ground.

The residents of Unus Town only observed without a glimpse of pity on their faces. But for Alan, that was his first taste of death inside the system. Watching his only ally drowning in her own blood reminded him of the outside world, where real-life-time transcurred slower, but with no room for error. Where there was no respawn system. Where one mistake meant the end.

The security videos that Isabella had shown to him flashed in his mind and almost made him puke.

Dammit! Focus, Alan, she's not truly dead! She'll respawn in the Renovatio Caves since we never got to a new checkpoint in this place.

"Ashley!" Alan cried, unable to escape his captor's grasp. "Listen, reunite with Smaio and stay there!" he shouted at the girl whose HP bar was quickly depleting. "And don't come searching for me, you hear me?! I'll come back for you!"

 

* * *

**

*

 

The trip to Londorus Capitol was not pleasant for Alan. To fight her boredom, Marissa made Alan hold her hand, while she applied fire mana to it.

“Come on!” Marissa giggled. “If you don’t release mana of your own, you won’t be able to resist the heat.”

“D-dammit…” Alan groaned, unable to avoid his HP from depleting steadily. 

Before reaching zero, Marissa let him go, leaving him exhausted. “Look at him!” She laughed out loud. “He’s weaker than Londorus' sewer rats!”

“Could you knock it off?” Matthew, the gloomy-looking young man, said, exhaling. “I’m tired of healing him.”

“Oh, come on, little bear! You’re barely using mana!” she said, hugging him. “Just one more time, pleaaase?”

“Fine,” Matthew said, sighing.

“And here we go!” She grabbed Alan’s hand again, who was trying to sneak away, hitting Oscar’s enormous back. “Look at his HP gooo! Whoops, I almost killed him this time!”

After hearing that, Oscar, who controlled the enormous flying cat, turned to her, eyes shining like matches. “Go on, Marissa, screw up the mission, and you’ll have to report to Lord Marco that we lost him because of your stupidity!”

“Jeez, fine, I’m sorry! I won’t do it again.”

“Heal him, Matthew,” Oscar ordered, grunting.

“Why is this happening?” Alan quietly asked the young Priest, hoping to get some sympathy from him. 

Matthew gave him an apologetic look at first, before forming a nasty grin that Alan never thought of seeing on a boy his age. “You ask why? Because you made Lord Marco have a bad day,” Matthew whispered to his ear while holding his hand and breaking his pinky. “And you, shall, never, make, Lord Marco, angry.” He looked down to see his work. Each of Alan’s fingers was broken and in unnatural positions. “Minor Light Conjure, Quick Fix.” Matthew cast the healing spell again, still wearing a mischievous smile on his face.

Alan heard Marissa chuckle before she hugged him around the neck. “As for me, I don’t care what that whining Marco says. I’m just here for the ride.” She bit Alan’s ear, sending him a pleasing sensation that he would have enjoyed any other day, but at that moment, he could only feel annoyed and gritted his teeth. His reaction made her giggle. “Hey, since I may be the only one around that doesn’t hold a grudge against you, let me give you a little forewarning of what’s awaiting you... Since all of us gamers are practically immortal here, the only way of making someone pay is through torture. Which is forbidden by the administrators, obviously! But as you will see, there is always a way...”

 

* * *

**

*

 

“Greetings, oh great, William, The Hall Keeper! Good job keeping this building safe!” Marissa shouted once arriving at the main hall, where a man in his thirties, bald, 7 feet tall, was awaiting. Two soldiers by his side.

“I’m not in the mood right now, brat,” he said, grunting. “Is that the one?” he asked after Oscar took Alan down. In front of them was the monument of a lion made of marble, snarling still at every visitor.

"That's right! This is our brave, all-powerful, guild founder in person!" Marissa said while making a mocking bow, which made William grunt.

“You have done your part. Now go away."

"Fine, fine. I was getting hungry anyway. Let's go, darling," she said to Matthew, who followed her without looking back.

Oscar grabbed Alan's arm and forcibly made him touch the emblem below the lion's monument. A blue light showed that something had been activated, and a system message popped up in Alan's line of vision. 

 

* New Checkpoint! * Londorus Capitol Shooting Stars Headquarters

 

Alan read it with an appalled expression on his face. 

Oh, no…

"Is it done?" William asked gruffly at Oscar, who nodded and stepped back. "Good. Hey, Alan Warden, do you know where we are?"

What’s with this condescending tone of voice?

Alan glared at the man. “Londorus Capitol. Shooting Stars Headquarters.”

William chuckled. “This is our PVP area, kid. Where we can have all the fun we want. Members only.” He crouched to whisper in his ear. “And you’re one of us, right?” Before Alan could frown at him, William quickly rose and stomped on his face.  

From Oscar's point of view, the smashed head of Alan got blurred and disappeared quickly in a display of lights and glimmer, the system’s auto-censorship keeping any brains or blood from being realistically rendered.

"The job is done, I'm going," Oscar said, disgusted, as Alan’s pixelated silhouette started reappearing in front of the statue.

William clicked his teeth. "Why are you leaving? I only told Marissa to go away because you know she’s always being a nuisance! Don't you want to kill him at least a couple of times? Fine, more for us! Pussy…"

Alan got revived again in front of them and quickly jumped back, crashing against the monument. "What the actual hell?! Why are you doing this?! I'm part of this guild founders, you know?! Where's Astrid?!"

William loudly exhaled. "If you hadn't opened your mouth... I could have been lenient with you,” he said, before sucker-punching Alan, easily decapitating him.

• ***

1. **
2. *

 

83 minutes had passed. Word of Alan's arrival traveled through the other members of the guild until a third of them reunited in the main hall, bringing alcohol and snacks, and forming a circle to act as a ring.

Alan could be seen in the center, fists in a defensive stance, his face all bloody. He dashed forward against his opponent to attempt what they had forced him to do: ‘Get a clean hit on any of us, and you can go.’

The smirking Shooting Star in front of him twirled like a ballerina and made him trip. The crowd laughed and cheered as Alan stood up and turned around to try again. Huh?! Where did he go?!

"Hey, Ghost!” his opponent said at his back, before applying an arm lock on him. “Do you need a hand?!"

The collective laughter erupted after seeing Alan's detached limb on the ground. What the hell is happening here?! he thought seconds after reviving, glaring at his next opponent who was asking the crowd to cheer for him. I refuse to believe that Astrid would approve of this!

Although the damage to his body had been reset, his mind was starting to falter. Alan could be seen squinting and gasping for air, although he was breathing through newly rendered lungs.

"Hey, Ghost, you don’t look so well!” his new opponent said, making a spear appear from his inventory. “Here, I’ll give you an advantage. Take it.”

Alan knew it was a bluff, but rushed to grab the weapon anyway until an invisible force prevented him from even touching it. Alan, you idiot...

 

You do not have the required  level to use this weapon!

 

The group burst with laughter, and the guild member kicked Alan in the jaw, making him fall backward. “Sorry, sorry! I couldn’t resist," the man sneered. "Here, I’ll give you a chance this time. No joking. I’ll just stay still, I promise!”

Alan snickered and spat blood over the guy’s boots. 

The man remained silent, wincing, before furiously kicking Alan in the stomach, getting rid of some of the bloodstains. “How weak,” he muttered while returning to his spot in the crowd, crossing eyes with a girl, drinking from a bottle of wine. "Amelia, why don't you try it?"

"Is it a good way to relieve stress?" she asked after gulping.

"A good way indeed!"

"Fine." She finished her bottle and strolled to Alan, who was still respawning.

He heard the sound of high heels stopping in front of him, but when he looked up, he could only see a blurred silhouette towering over him, and a small red glimmer coming from it as if it was the eye of a demon.

"Stand up," the young woman ordered, putting her hands on her hips, glaring. 

Although Alan looked like collapsing at any moment, he instinctively took a fighting stance before his sight finally focused on the glimmering red jewel, encrusted in the choker necklace in front of him. His eyes then focused on the owner, a girl his age of curvy figure, wearing a long, black, thigh-high slit dress, with long fiery-red hair that reached her thighs.

"I have a question for you, Alan Warden,” she whispered. “Where have you been all this time?"

"I…"

"I asked,” she started saying, while her hand emanated a red aura. “Where the hell have you been this whole time?! Major Fire Crafting, Dragonbreath!"

Flames burst from her palm and scorched him in an instant, forcing a mage from the crowd to cast a force shield in a fraction of a second before the fire reached them. “Dammit, Amelia, watch it!”

As soon as Alan started regenerating, Amelia decapitated him with her open palm.

"While we were working our asses off making this guild a top ranker, what were you doing, huh?!" she shouted, not waiting for his silhouette to take human form, stabbing him in what seemed to be the chest. "And what do you do when you finally decide to show up?! Steal from Lord Marco?! Did you think you would get away with this?!"

"How many times has she killed him already?" A guild member asked another, who shrugged.

"I've lost count. Eight, nine times?"

"That's enough, Amelia," a thunderous voice made himself heard from the hall's entrance. 

The crowd made way and saluted him. "Welcome back, Lord Marco."

Amelia made a curtsy in front of him, grinning warmly. Her right hand was still stained with Alan's blood. "Hi, Marco."

The man grabbed her by the chin. "Were you punishing him on my behalf? How cute."

Amelia blushed brilliantly. "I could do it all night if you ordered me to."

"No, sweetheart, it's my turn to speak to this… man."

Alan’s body was still covered in pixels when he had Marco in his field of vision. Is this the guy whose name I’ve been hearing this whole time?

Marco appeared to be in his mid-twenties. A man of pale skin, black short hair, and golden eyes, wearing an elegant black business suit. Disgustingly handsome and irritatingly charismatic. I wonder how many times he has changed his features to look like that.

"We finally met, Alan Warden. My name is Marco Souza, the true Co-Leader of Shooting Stars." Following his words, the surrounding people cheered and got silent once he made a gesture with his hand. "Or that's what I would like to say because, since this morning, someone has usurped my job."

Alan could barely sneer. "Are you saying I did it?”

"That's what opportunists do when given the chance,” the man spoke in a soft tone of voice. “They usurp, lie, steal… Like what you did today. Not only did you snatch away my position in the guild, but you also stole my paycheck. 100,000 gold... Did you think you could get away with it? Did you think you could just walk through these halls and everyone would call you leader after all this time? That effortlessly, you’d take command when everyone else has paid in blood and sweat to rise through the ranks?”

"Yeah, show him, Lord Marco!"

"Make him pay!"

"Pal…" Alan said, returning to his boxing stance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about..."

Marco stared at Alan thoughtfully before shortening the distance in a second, grabbing him by the neck and lifting him off the ground. A cracking sound was heard.

"Huh, I broke his neck." Marco patiently waited for the system to respawn Alan while speaking. "I don’t have proficiency in elemental magic, you see, I can only cast the most basic of spells, such as this... Minor Fire Crafting..." He started casting, as flames emanated from his palm. "Blaze." Alan’s body got incinerated in a matter of seconds, barely leaving him time to scream. “What was the most basic ice spell called?” Marco asked his followers.

“That would be ‘Chill’, sir.”

“Oh, right. Let me help you fight that heat, Alan. Minor Ice Crafting, Chill… And now something that will shock you. Minor Lightning Crafting, Zap.”

Alan’s body fumed before collapsing and being reborn again, while everyone present stood silent. Not a single member was amused by the punishment anymore, but they did not take their eyes off as if it was their duty.

"That son of a…" Amelia whispered after watching Alan stand up for the thirtieth time.

“Hey, Marco Souza!” Alan cried, displaying anger for the first time since the 'challenge' started. “I didn’t steal from you. This is a mistake!”

Marco chuckled while staring deep into his eyes. “As I was saying, I'm not an elemental mage. I specialize in dark magic. I’m a warlock, you see. We like to mess with our opponents’ minds and inflict them with pain that the best of armors can't stop. Allow me to show you...” Marco started channeling mana.

That looks like it’ll take him a long ass time!

Alan pulled out the only weapon in his inventory, his rusty sword, and launched himself forward, but Marco got out of his sight.

The next thing Alan saw was Marco’s palm.

“Mayor Dark Conjure...”

“Stop!”

“Slumbermare…”

 

*

 

A scene unraveled in Alan’s mind. A picture of something he did not want to think through. Please don’t!

The Santa Maria's white corridors, stained with blood... I don't want to see it! And small drone units mopping the floor, removing every trace of ruin. But the stench remained... I refuse to believe it!

Automatons carrying bodies... Please, just stop!

And throwing them into the dark coldness of space.

Don’t show me this! Did you think I hadn’t thought about it?! Of course I did, I’m not stupid! But I refuse to believe that things developed in that way!

Another vision of an automaton, engulfed in shadows, with red electronic eyes, entering the cryo-chambers. No, no, no, no, no! Standing in front of a sleeping pod, where a blonde teenager rested. Was that Astrid's pod?

Marco, are you seeing this?!

The automaton stepped into the light, carrying a knife, revealing it wore Ashley's face.

Because I hope you’re enjoying the show, asshole! That’s what I’ve been dealing with for the last eight real-life months! So while you enjoyed your stay here, acting like a goddamn mafia boss, I was out there, making sure your asses remained glued to your backs, you prick!