Chapter 012

  Mission Boring

  Ethan sent Jason to meet Samuel Donovan, arranging to meet up the next day for lunch at Emma's Kitchen. He would have gone with the other player, but he had two priorities in mind.

  First, he was honestly getting tired of socializing, and he wanted some peace of mind away from the talkative guy. Second, he had missions to complete.

  He knew he was racing towards unrestricted dangers and the potential of meeting an early demise, but he was also anxious to see what new talent options awaited at the level two upgrade.

  Jason had been able to pick out two complimentary talents early on, providing an obvious path that could be exploited for stealth combat. Ethan didn't feel so lucky. He could fix things and talk well, but despite having the talents, he wasn't particularly interested in them.

  He wanted to fight, so he was starting to feel a bit let down by a system that clearly hadn't put him on that path.

  All he could do about it was push forward and hope for the best. The easiest way to do that was for him to finish out a couple more missions and get some early experience.

  Still standing outside Ms. Harmon's home, he pulled up his missions screen and studied it.

  Explore Grimsborough Heights

  Get to know your starting district by exploring everything it has to offer.

  Current Progress: 4%

  He'd walked around the district for hours and yet the percentage of discovered area hadn't gone up by much. That was probably the reason the game designers had decided to show him just how big the city was.

  The achievements block was full of useless notifications he hadn't seen since he turned them off. Skimming through more than a dozen, he knew he'd made a good choice. All the achievements were pointless.

  As far as active missions went, he still had three to pick from that needed completing on his own. Since the system didn't allow him to team up with Jason yet, going solo while Jason tried to join The Green Fists on his own was the most efficient use of time.

  Copper Topper

  Learn more about Billy Sadler’s situation. Speak to Officer Packley at the local police station in Grimsborough Heights to learn more about Sadler’s involvement in the blood trade.

  Current Progress: 0%

  The Bleeker Building

  Learn more about the player known as Stalvek Dyomin, and their involvement with The Cortez Family. Lately they have been seen going into and out of The Bleeker Building. Spy on the place and report back.

  Current Progress: 0%

  Ethan considered both missions equally. They seemed simple enough. One felt like a simple conversation would complete it, but the trouble was in finding the police station.

  The second one sounded like a stakeout, which might be easy but would likely take hours. He would also need to find The Bleeker Building.

  Regular Mr. Handyman

  Your work for Thomas Gallagher is always incomplete. Things need repair over the course of their lifetime, regardless of why. You were hired by Mr. Gallagher to fix things, and for some reason you slacked off for a full week. It's time to catch up. With Ms. Harmon’s window fixed, now it’s time to fix those porch steps at Dead Ned’s place. Get on it!

  Current Progress: 33%

  The handyman mission stood out because it seemed relatively easy compared to the others. The window had been an easy fix, and he knew where Dead Ned lived, though for some reason the system hadn't pre-loaded into his false memories the reason for this NPC's nickname.

  With his plan settled, he set out across town for Dead Ned's apartment, hoping for some easy experience.

  As he walked through the city, clusters of NPCs crowded sidewalks and spilled out of establishments.

  For several blocks, none of the cross-streets looked particularly inviting, so he continued down Whitaker, keeping an eye out for any signs of a police station. Even if he wasn't actively working towards that mission, he could multi-task.

  At least half an hour passed as he walked, and he'd seen no other players. Either they were hiding their whereabouts or he'd found an area of The Grims that other players didn't want to be in.

  A couple blocks further, he caught a glimpse of a street sign labeled Superior Boulevard. That rang a bell in his false memories, and for whatever reason he knew The Bleeker Building was on Superior Boulevard.

  Once again, it wasn't the quest he wanted to do first, but it suddenly became the easiest to finish quickly. Or so he figured. If he didn't find it relatively quickly, at least he would still be near Dead Ned's and the other mission.

  This area of The Grims was falling to pieces. Rubble from buildings that had caved in littered the sidewalks. The burnt-out husks of brick structures remained abandoned years after having gone up in flames.

  Brush painted graffiti was scrawled across every available surface. What words and images he could read were crude and obscene. There was meaning behind the symbols and tags but he couldn't decipher them. Piles of trash spilled out from shadowy alleys, attracting rats and other rodents that skittered away as he passed.

  Further down the road, an old brick building had partially collapsed, rubble strewn across the sidewalk. Ethan had to step into the street to get around the obstruction.

  He finally saw some blue player names bobbing in the distance, but they never came close enough to show up on his mini-map or for him to read their names.

  Occasionally a vehicle bumbled by on the streets, the machines narrowly missing one another as they passed. Very few cars were parked in the neighborhood he walked, and the ones that did barely seemed valuable. The entire neighborhood felt abandoned by regular people.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  The air pressed down on him, thick with hopelessness and the stench of urban rot. He found myself glancing over his shoulder more frequently, his heart rate elevated.

  Even though he wasn’t afraid of being attacked by other players yet, every shadow looked like a threat was hiding there, and he had a sneaking suspicion that vampire eyes watched his every move. Luckily, it was still daylight out.

  Taking in the state of decay, he knew all three gangs were responsible for the city being this way. It was obvious. Everywhere he walked in Grimsborough Heights, it was clear that their business had destroyed the very fabric of society.

  Seeing the results of their management told him all he had to know. Something needed to change.

  Up ahead, towering over the surrounding wreckage like an ominous fortress, Ethan spotted what could only be The Bleeker Building.

  The red brick structure was taller than every other building in the area, standing at what looked like ten stories.

  Getting closer, he noticed several NPC men in faded trench coats patrolling the sidewalks around the perimeter.

  Their faces were hard and weathered, eyes constantly scanning for any perceived threat. A few of them openly cradled shotguns or rifles in their arms.

  These had to be The Cortez Family goons Samuel mentioned. Ethan slowed his pace, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention.

  One of the men spotted him and gave a long, appraising look. Ethan kept his head down and strode past like he belonged there. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw the guard turn and mutter something to one of his buddies.

  Reaching an alley across from The Bleeker Building, Ethan ducked inside and found a relatively clean spot to observe from a distance. The shadows concealed him as he watched the armed men continue their patrol routes, forgetting about the random player they'd seen.

  The armed men moved with a swagger, like they owned the entire block. They certainly appeared to from Ethan's perspective.

  From where he hid, he saw a couple of the goons light up hand-rolled cigarettes. Every now and then, one of them stopped and had an animated conversation, their voices hushed mumbles.

  He wished he could make out what they were saying, but he didn't dare get any closer. If he understood the assignment correctly, all he needed to do was gather intelligence.

  One particularly nasty looking thug with a wicked scar running down his cheek froze mid-stride at the end of the alley. He turned his head slowly, eyes narrowing as he peered in Ethan's direction.

  Above the NPC's head it said Frick, and he had to reread it a few times before realizing the man simply had a one-word moniker.

  Already too close to them, he realized he needed to step back. Two hundred feet or more separated them but his heart pounded as their eyes met briefly in the darkness. The NPC named Frick probably had two points in Awareness, or that was his thought anyway.

  Pressing himself against the brickwork, he hoped the Frick couldn't actually locate him or wasn't interested. Long seconds ticked by until the man grunted and continued on his way.

  As he kept watching The Bleeker's entrance, he couldn't help but wonder what kind of illicit activities could be happening inside those walls. The place had a sinister vibe, like something rotten dwelled within.

  Whatever it was, it had to be very important to The Cortez Family, since they had at least a dozen guards surrounding the building.

  After a while Ethan looked at his watch and saw the time had ticked by to early evening. He'd walked quite a distance and then observed The Bleeker Building for too long, having learned very little. The mission hadn't updated, either, which was frustrating.

  Sweat trickled down his back and his shirt clung damply to his skin. He could feel the moisture beading on his forehead and upper lip, and he was especially getting tired of smelling the nearby dumpster. Whatever had been thrown in it was nasty, and that was before the afternoon sun turned the dumpster into an oven.

  Despite finding a shaded alcove to stake out The Bleeker Building from, the stifling heat was oppressive. The air was thick and heavy, making each breath feel like he was inhaling humid cotton.

  Across the street, the armed sentries seemed largely unfazed by the sweltering conditions.

  NPCs probably didn't care. Most of them even wore long trench coats, the thick fabric somehow not causing them to melt in the heat.

  As for Ethan, he could already feel the pangs of dehydration setting in. His throat was parched, and he found himself unconsciously licking his dry lips every few minutes.

  He would have killed for an ice cold glass of water or some type of soda, but he hadn't reached level three yet, and the act of killing for a drink was probably a bit dramatic.

  Staking out the building had seemed like a decent idea, but he was starting to feel like he should have just done the handyman job. For the past couple of hours, he hadn't seen anything of real interest.

  The Bleeker Building itself sat impressive, ten floors of windows betraying no obvious illicit activities rumored to be occurring within.

  Armed mobsters in trench coats were enough to tell him the place was bad news, but after all this was a fictional world where authorities did nothing. It was obvious from the state of decay, but he also realized he wouldn't have the full scope of understanding regarding law enforcement until he talked to Officer Packley.

  Ethan was just about to call it quits and find somewhere to grab a cold drink, when new movement across the street caught his eye. A familiar figure ran into view, and the unmistakable thin silhouette of Stalvek Dyomin appeared.

  The intimidating player stalked forward to the NPC guards with an arrogant swagger. He squared his shoulders, eyes scanning the area like he owned the entire operation, because of course he would. The guy was still putting up a show for invisible cameras even when no other players were near him.

  A couple of the guards turned to look, including Frick, but Stalvek just barked something at them and they shrank back. Could a low-rank like Stalvek just command higher ranking NPCs like that, or had Stalvek already managed to move up the organization in rank somehow?

  Ethan shook his head and moved further into the shadows as Stalvek passed right by the mouth of the alley. They were more than two hundred feet away. His cold gaze flicked in Ethan's direction for the briefest moment but then the man moved on.

  Stalvek disappeared through The Bleeker's entrance, the guards going about their business as usual. It was obvious that Stalvek had seen another player, but since he didn't stop, Ethan could only assume he wasn’t interested.

  He had no way of knowing if Stalvek had any points in Awareness. He could only guess that since the guy didn't investigate, Stalvek either didn't know or didn't care.

  As the shadows grew longer, he realized Stalvek still hadn't emerged from The Bleeker Building. The guy might not leave for some time.

  Just what the hell was he up to inside that place? There was no way for Ethan to know without going in, and he wasn't about to mess with those guards.

  This was where it would have been nice to have talents like Jason's. Recon and Stealth seemed far more appropriate in comparison to Handy and Negotiator.

  Sighing, he realized only time would tell whether his starting talents proved more or less beneficial over time. They certainly weren't helping him right then.

  The grumbling of his empty stomach reminded him he hadn't eaten anything since the fried steak at Emma's place. His eyelids were starting to feel heavy as well, fatigue setting in from hours of talking, walking, spying, and sapping dehydration.

  His first day had been a long one, and with much less progress than he'd hoped for. He suddenly had a strong desire to get back to his apartment and get some rest.

  Stalvek could lurk in that damn building for the rest of the night for all he cared. It would start getting dark soon, and he had a suspicion there would be extra eyes on him as soon as that happened.

  Right then, the only thing on his mind was finding some shade and hydration on his way back.

  Stiffly pushing off from the wall, he carefully made his way out from the alley and back towards the more familiar. One last glance over his shoulder confirmed the patrols were still ongoing around The Bleeker's perimeter.

  On the way back, he stopped at the first little store he could find. It was an old place with a tall door underneath a sign with faded lettering. The words seemed to indicate it was some type of general store, and his mini-map informed him it was Gregg's Bodega.

  He pushed open the door and found a ramshackle bodega crammed with all manner of sundries. They had canned goods with little twist-open handles, toiletries, boxes of crackers, and saltwater taffies. It felt like stepping back in time.

  An elderly man with a thick mustache looked up from behind the counter.

  "Help you, son?"

  "Just need something cold to drink," Ethan rasped, his voice scratchy from thirst. "You got any soda pop or water? Cold. Anything cold."

  "Sure thing." The man gestured towards an old icebox humming in the corner. "Got all kinds of flavors over there. Even got some of that new Zappy! Citrus Exploddy! if you're feeling adventurous."

  Ethan made his way over, peering through the fogged glass at an assortment of bottles promising exotic tastes like Ginger Zest and Rhubarb Riot. But his eyes were immediately drawn to the bright green liquid sloshing inside the Zappy! bottles.

  "I'll try that Zappy! Citrus Exploddy!" He told the shopkeeper, getting a dime from his wallet.

  The man cracked open the icebox and handed him a cold bottle, condensation already beading on the glass. He twisted off the cap and took an eager swig, the tangy, effervescent liquid hitting his parched throat.

  It was like drinking fizzy limeade with an extra kick. The flavor was tart and sweet at the same time. Utterly refreshing. He could feel the cold liquid reviving him with each swallow.

  By the time he drained the last few drops, his fatigue and dehydration had melted away. The old man grinned at him through the haze of his contentment.

  "Good stuff, ain't it? Zappy! really packs a punch."

  "You can say that again," Ethan agreed, running a sleeve across his forehead. "That really hit the spot."

  The man gave him a nickel back from the dime, and Ethan was left with two dollars and seventy five cents to his name.

  With a satisfied nod, he headed back out onto the street, the hot summer evening feeling a lot more bearable now that he was refreshed.