More Than A Game (Epic LitRPG adventure)

Chapter 3, in the big world part 5

I got them, for sure. Their leader's face turned ash gray, and his eyes narrowed. Honestly, I might have overdone it a bit, though that was when a short (by their standards) orc screamed, "You little fart!"

He swung the morning star he held in his stubby hand. My world shattered into something like a photo album. I saw stars...the angry, frustrated face of their leader...a spinning sky. A familiar haze settled in, and I found myself standing in an area near the city wall. No pants, no club—just in my underwear (Apparently, the game's developers didn't want to traumatize the young generation by making them look at naked bodies.) They sent freshly killed players to the nearest respawn point or to the last place they saved, and all cities and villages had respawn points. So the good news was that death wasn't the end. On the other hand, I was resurrected without any of my belongings, which go to whoever killed you. They left me in my underwear, but other than that, nothing. At least until Level 10, you didn't lose any experience, although, after that, you were screwed. If you croaked, you lost everything you had, as well as the experience you were working on.

Just then, I heard my inbox ping. I looked around to see a mailbox that, thank God, wasn't far away from where I respawned and went over. To my surprise, I saw that Euiikh, the green-faced leader, had written me.

"You displeased me, my little white-faced friend. You killed my rabbit, said some unpleasant things, and died too easily. That last thing I find especially frustrating. And so, I just want you to know that this was only the first of many meetings, all of which will end in your death. However, you will not die so quickly in the future. See you soon."

Like a villain pulled straight from some opera, if the email had had audio to go with it, the last words would have been followed by an evil, booming "Wa-ha-ha-ha!" Although I had the urge to respond and suggest that he find a nice little donkey to make love to instead of his rabbit, I decided it wasn't worth it. Those idiots would be trolling me as it was, and a reply like that would start World War III. Much better to keep building my character and get even with them later. I could find a big old mace and wreak havoc on them, though I needed to remember their names—at least in the blacklist. It was like in the old joke: I don't remember evil, so I have to write it down. At least the game had a feature that let me know when they were nearby. I figured that would give me enough time to get away while my level was still low and I hadn't found a super-mega-giga mace.

"This sucks," Icomplained as I sat down on a bench next to the respawn point. "I don't haveanything, no clothes, no weapons, no money. All I have now is a bunch ofenemies and my underwear, and that won't get me any further than a virtualchurch to beg for some change." At one point, I even thought, "Maybe I can justforget the game? I've already seen enough to write an article, and playersthemselves won't read it. They don't subscribe to our newspaper, and nobodyelse really cares whether the article is written well from the perspective ofthe players or not. I can just add some filler, throw in a plug for Raidion,and call it a day."

On the other hand, what was I going to do for a whole month? There wasn't any leaving the city since Mammoth could check to see if I ran off somewhere. And really, was I going to get chased off by a few ugly orc assholes? That wouldn't do. But ramming their heads up where the sun doesn't shine—that would make for a great story.

And, it's not bad here. Before everything happened, the game had been like a free and easy excursion. You know, it's like winning a tour of somewhere in Rostov—it's a nice city, and it's free, so why not go? Although it's not like you'd spend money on it. The city isn't bad, it's just that it doesn't really matter to you. But if it's free, why not? It was the same thing for me; I played because it was free, sort of my job, and not too stressful. But now, everything was different...and I still needed material for my series.

But if the game was going from "Why not?" to "Let's see who gets the last laugh," I needed a plan. Right away, I needed two things: clothes and a weapon. Oh, and I desperately needed someone who knew the game inside and out to teach me the ropes.

That was when I remembered Fat Willie.

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