Project Daily Grind (Mirror World LitRPG series Book #1) by Alexey Osadchuk

Chapter Two

"Oleg, have you ever played computer games?"

Gleb's colleague Zoriana sat by her computer entering my data into the company's database. First name, family name, date of birth, social security number, that sort of thing.

She had cropped hair and funny earrings shaped as iridescent butterflies. Intelligent eyes glistened behind glasses. Twenty years old max.

"Do Tetris and tank simulators count?" I asked.

She smiled without taking her eyes off the monitor. "Any bad habits?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

She typed away. "Good. Basically, that's it. All I need is your signature."

"Be my guest."

"Not so fast," she smiled. "I know you're serious about it. Gleb told me. It's not that. First you need to familiarize yourself with the game's content. You need to choose a race and profession."

"Does it really matter?" I asked.

"You see, Oleg," Zoriana adjusted her glasses and smiled condescendingly, "computer games of today are a far cry from those like Tetris. They are millions of years apart, so to say."

Unwilling to argue, I raised my hands in the air. "I give up! Let's choose a race."

"Excellent. I like your attitude. I'm going to take you to a class A test module so you can see for yourself."

The test module looked like a cross between a dentist's chair and - I couldn't help laughing at the thought - one of those hairdresser's chairs from the 1970s with a huge bucket-shaped bowl over your head.

Ignoring my merriment, she walked over to the machine and began keying in some information on the monitor built into the "bucket". She must have probably heard her fair share of clumsy jokes about the machine's weird shape.

"Make yourself comfortable, Oleg. The process will take much longer than you might think. I suggest you use the bathroom first."

I shook my head and climbed onto the hard seat.

She finished adjusting the settings. "Relax," she said, "and don't turn your head. It's not dangerous. Now close your eyes."

With a quiet beep, the "bucket" came down, covering my head all the way to the chin. I felt Zoriana take my hand and press my fingers against a hard surface.

"You can open your eyes now. The sensor panel is next to your right hand. The panoramic screen is right in front of you. Do you have a cell phone?"

"Yes."

"It's the same principle. I'm uploading the content. That's it. I'm leaving you to study it. If you need me, there's an icon with a ring bell in the top right corner of the screen."

"I see. Thanks."

"See you later."

The program upload bar began to grow, changing its light from yellow to green as the percentage increased. It felt like sitting in a 3D theater. I even lifted my hand, hoping to touch the image.

99%...

100%...

The speakers exploded with a fanfare riff. I hurried to put the sound down. Basically, the thing was quite easy to use - no more difficult than my phone. The interface pleased the eye. The font was clear, the graphics high quality. Apparently, people enjoyed playing games in these machines. If they spent so much money on it - actually investing in it - then they must have. Whatever. So far, I wasn't that impressed.