We staggered back into the den, some of the NPCs standing and cheering as we entered. The frat boys were looking up from their places on and around the sofa though, eyes liquid and soft. I knew that look. It was the first time they’d seen a real man die.
While the NPCs started chattering excitedly amongst themselves, my men and I went straight over to the boys.
“It’s garbage out there. Absolute garbage,” I said. One of the boys turned his eyes away, his back convulsing as he began to sob. “But it doesn’t have to be the end. GhostFace just got unlucky, that’s all. Don’t look at him and think you can’t do this. You can.”
“Name’s Chad,” the lead frat bro said. He stood up and held out a hand. “Don’t think I ever said that before.” His face was scared, but he wasn’t freaking. It was a better sign than I’d expected.
“Real name’s Kevin, but here you can call me Dirk. At least until you boys are safe and part of the command structure.”
Chad nodded. “Sorry about your friend.”
Blunt glared at him. “He was better than that. He was a real GI Joe hero. Sam Houston and Davy Crockett all mixed into one awesome dude.”
“Hey now, settle up,” I said, not bothering to look away from Chad. I understood the anger of losing a friend. But this was neither the time nor the place.
The man with the purple suit from before came in and announced that C and D were set to fight. I held up my hand and he ambled over.
“Do you have a question, sir?” he asked.
“We’re done with our fight for today. Is there any place we can take these pups to give them a little train up? Oh and to check our loot away from prying eyes?”
The suit nodded, paused, and a new bit of info popped into my vision even as he turned to walk the new combatants to their places.
YOU HAVE REQUESTED ACCESS TO THE DEATHNOOB! TRAINING FACILITY FOR 100 CREDITS PER PERSON PER HOUR. IF THIS IS CORRECT, PLEASE FOLLOW THE DIRECTIONAL PROMPTS.
Seemed expensive. But if I could get at least one of these boys out alive, it was worth it. A vision of that dropping count of real human players ‘exiting’ the game flashed through my head. I needed to save them. Red arrows appeared in my view, riding the floors and walls.
“Everyone, follow me. We’re going to check out loot, then train you boys with the best we’ve got and get you out of here, alive, and maybe even with a few more levels under your belts. What do you think?”
“Yes. Thank you,” Chad replied, his tone subdued.
Like a man who has finished his last meal. A man on his way to the electric chair, I thought.
If this were training and he was one of my soldiers I would have screamed him up so hard that hair would have puffed off his chest and through his clothes into daylight.
But these guys didn’t need that. Couldn’t take that.
I let him slump.
They’d be ready to get yelled at once they had some weapons in their hands and targets in their sights.
We walked out of the staging room, myself in the lead, following red arrows as they appeared front, right, and center. The lot of us headed down dark winding corridors before seeing bright light cascaded from an open door ahead.
YOU HAVE ARRIVED AT TRAINING ROOM 3. ENJOY!
Training Room 3. That sent my mind into a tizzy.
Why not Training Room 1, I asked the system through my text-based interface.
TRAINING ROOM 1 IS CURRENTLY IN USE.
I didn’t need to count my fingers to know that none of the other teams were using it. Suspicions started sneaking into my brain. Suspicions that, if confirmed, would make things a lot easier here on out.
Are the training rooms only available to arena competitors?
TRAINING ROOMS ARE AVAILABLE FOR ALL PLAYERS AT ANY TIME. FOR TACTICAL EXPERIENCE POINT EARNING MATCHES VERSUS NON-LETHAL AMALGAMATIONS OF EXISTING ENEMIES AND MONSTERS AN ADDITIONAL FEE OF 10 CREDITS PER EXPERIENCE POINT GAINED WILL BE CHARGED TO YOUR ACCOUNT. LETHALITY IS DISABLED DURING TACTICAL EXPERIENCE POINT MATCHES, BUT MAY BE ENABLED BY OTHER PLAYERS FOR A FEE OF TEN TIMES THE AMOUNT PAID BY THE PURCHASEE.
That last part was a dangerous caveat. I looked at my team and the frat boys, and decided to file this information away for a later time. There was a good chance that if I tried to level these boys before the arena, Deus Ex would just happen to have one of the other teams come and enable lethality.
“Alright everyone, let’s file in.”
We entered the room, dazzled by its artificial daylight. It was an exact replica of the arena! I stared at the barriers, ditches, and bags of garbage, wondering if I could change the set up to look however I wished. I’d check that out later as well. I wasn’t sure how much time we had right now and I needed to get to business.
I signaled at my team of griefers and we all piled our loot into the center of the false arena.
“Let’s see what we’ve got here,” I said, and began bringing inventory items out for the frat boys to get equipped with.
Pioneered by the ancient Asians, modernized in the back alleys of Gojira-X. The shoulder-mounted Thunder-muzzle provides a whole lot of artillery coverage in one unpredictable salvo. Three rows of four tubes, each filled with highly dubious, highly explosive and flammable fireworks. Great for parties. Better for battles.
WARNING: The effective range of each rocket varies wildly between 50 and 100 meters due to their less than professional production methods. User caution is advised.
“Let ‘er rip, compadre.” –inventor and fan ANONYMOUS3
Thunder-Muzzle, Home-made
DMG 14-50 per rocket (deals 1-6 damage to the wielder)
Projectile Weapon, One-Use
Provides multiple small-scale explosions on impact. 10% chance to electrocute, 10% chance to blind, 10% chance to misfire.
“That’s super chill,” Chad the frat leader muttered. Gone was that timid and frightened look, replaced by awe over the awesome stuff being laid out before them.
Dragon raised up a suit of awesome red and black Japanese samurai armor and everyone’s eyes glued to it.
“What are the stats on those, man?” I asked. Dragon reached his free hand over to the item and threw its item box into the air for all of us to see.
The Sanata Karuta brings the elegant beauty of medieval Japan in line with the demands of today's combat soldier. Offering excellent protection against ballistic and physical attacks, its cushioned exterior also provides for the best in body-lined comfort, hugging to the skin like so much body-oil. In the mood for a fight that feels like a hug? Equip Sanata Karuta today.
Sanata Karuta (Cyber-Modernized Samurai Armor)
Damage reduction: 50 physical, 25 energy, 100% resistance to blunt force trauma effects
Wielding a samurai blade grants double damage when used in one-on-one offensive combat.
‘Sword play with the comfort of a snuggie. That’s Sanata Karuta!’
It was good, and it’d definitely give someone some nice protection, but I was eager to see what else our loot pile might hold.
“Moving on,” I said, and brought up a full suit of armor with a peculiar look to it. I made the same motion that Dragon had made before and threw the words out into the air, sharing it with the rest of the guys. The words shimmered in the air between us all.
The Sambanator brings together the sublime nature of warfare with the sublime pleasure of dance. Show them your passion, your moves, your penchant for violence with the crisp, clean and omnipresent contours of your hologram as it dances hovering two meters above your head.
Sambanator (Full-suit tactical battle armor)
Damage reduction: 36 physical, 30 energy, 20% electric resistance, 40% fire resistance
A hologram of your character will hover over your head and perform expert moves with a partner. You lead.
‘The Sambanator offers more than protection. It gives the gift of dance.’
I snorted and set the armor aside. More of the items went along this line: either home-made junk that might blow up in your face, or joke stuff that combined excellent stats with some specific disadvantage that was sure to kill you.
We found electro-nunchuks and immediately electrified ourselves, spiked boots that gave you +10 Finesse, but slowly froze your feet until your toes snapped off from frostbite, healing items that would render you incapable of fighting for thirty seconds while you healed, that kind of thing.
The frat boys took this process seriously at first, but it soon devolved into them electrifying each other with the nunchuks and joking about frosting their beer mugs in the boots. Finally, we settled on some blast rifles, a sub machinegun that fired sticky globs of orangish snot stuff, and some armor that wasn’t filled with bees or spikes or was going to mess with you on the battlefield.
Dragon tinkered with the Sambanator until he was pretty sure the hologram wouldn’t get started until ten or twenty minutes into the battle, and loudly broadcast your position to the enemy. The frat boy leader, Chad, promised he would unequip it if the battle started to look like it was going wrong.
AH-CHOO! BEST NOT GET TOO CLOSE TO THE MUZZLE ON THIS BABY, UNLESS YOU’VE GOT A SNOT FETISH. PRESS THAT TRIGGER AND GLUE THEM INTO PLACE. THEN LET THE TRASH TALK BEGIN! BROUGHT TO YOU BY MADSCI TECH LABS, THE WHITE COATS SYNONYMOUS WITH ADVENTURE, AND LAB EXPLOSIONS.
Snot Cannon
DMG 1-4 blunt
95% chance to immobilize the limb struck. On a headshot, causes immediate suffocation. Snot globs have 8 damage reduction and 50-60 hp before they’re removed. *snot globs dissolve after 8-10 minutes.
Pro tip: the ‘antidote’ setting dissolves snot globs, and also deals 6-12 acid damage in a pinch, plus 4-6 extra damage every five seconds, for 30 seconds.
‘Looking for some prankish fun? Give the Snot Cannon a try! Guaranteed to send your friends and family into gales of laughter.’
We quickly learned that the snot cannon could tie up an enemy’s legs after testing it on Blunt, and that it could fuse a hand to the nearest wall given a good aim and a leg-tied Blunt, it proved to be an incredible weapon. Once these frat boys got back, I’d be commandeering this particular piece of hardware and putting the crafters to the task of reverse engineering it, so I could use it.
If the frat boys got back.
Not gonna lie. The thought that they probably wouldn’t shook me to the core. The seemingly meaningless loss of GhostFace was messing with me pretty bad.
I shook my head clear of those thoughts and showed them how to cram the butt stocks against their shoulders to account for recoil, and to keep the damn thing steady.
One of the frat kids took the Thunder-Muzzle, while the rest of them got freeze grenades. Each of them got a medpack that provided lower HP recovery, but didn’t turn you into a sitting duck.
The last useful one we found looked like a plain old riot shield. Small lines, thin as cracks, radiated from a glowing disk in its center, and on it were toggle buttons, each with a directional graphic embossed upon them.
I seized it eagerly. This looked pretty awesome.
Why carry a shield when you can build a wall? Your place, your time, movable in an instant. From the Halls of MadSci Labs comes the latest in ‘get out of my face’ technologies. The Henderson Hearty Portable Wall! Stop pesky bullets and take some cover without moving an inch.
Henderson Hearty Portable Wall (Mobile Cover)
Damage reduction: 150 physical, 110 energy, 20% electric resistance, 40% fire resistance
Place onto the surface of your choice and using the directional tabs expand a customizable wall up to six feet in any direction. Auto-deploy option creates a two foot by three foot high wall, complete with view window, perfect for prone and unsupported firing.
The damn thing expanded out six feet to either side! That was impressive. It had these clawed robotic clamps that looked a lot like raven’s feet and when you touched them to the ground then grabbed in hard.
But even more impressive was the HP. It’d take a 150 physical damage to bring the wall down. That’s give whoever was behind it plenty of time to figure out their next move. And a nice place to pop shots from while they did it.
The arena already had barriers. But this, this would be awesome for use in the field. The enemy might know exactly where you were, but those hit points worth of protection, and those resistance bonuses made it worth its weight in gold.
I was sure of it.
“Look,” I told them. “We’re not going to test these out here. You just have to be sure to throw them far enough that you’re not caught in the blast radius. We’ll practice with these nano injection packs.”
For a good half hour they pelted each other with useless med packs and shot each other with sticky globs of bright orange snot, practicing tactical maneuvers and squad tactics.
It was wonderful to see. Their resolve grew, as did their confidence. They were moving and laughing. A far cry from where they’d been when we got out of our match.
One of them became the shield bearer, a man they called him Beer Pong. He got used to the sensation of the portable wall sliding out, clamping onto the ground, and importantly, grabbing up the med packs before they would otherwise blow up. The rest shot non-lethal rounds from their new weapons.
They took orders from Dragon, Turtle and Blunt, which proved invaluable as well. The men needed a bit of a distraction over GhostFace, before our next fight. There would be beer tonight. At our HQ, of course. But damn, they were actually even starting to look good in their movements and strategies. If things played out well enough, they might make for another fine combat team.
I felt my confidence rising. They’d been ranked last if I had it all figured right, and that almost definitely meant that they were fighting the weakest of the NPC teams.
They were going to survive this thing!
And through all of this training, I ended up boosting a skill I’d never known existed:
Small Group Tactics, and Training. I got two ranks of the former, and another three ranks in Training.
The money ticked down, the guys got better. And then Beer Pong stood stock still, his face plain and serious.
“Just got the message. It’s time!”
