Chapter 016

  Lunch Time

  Ethan forced himself to take a few steadying breaths. He'd just committed to learning how to fight with knives.

  It wasn't like he'd had much of a choice. Being less than a thousand experience points away from level three had forced his hand. Then again, he wanted to fight, so it wasn't such a bad thing.

  "Shurikens and kunai blades, huh?" he questioned out loud.

  No one answered, and he remembered he was standing in the rain on the sidewalk in front of Donovan's office. There were no players or NPCs around him on account of the whole weather thing.

  It still poured consistently, and what little movement he saw from others was distant and quick, moving from one place to another to avoid getting soaked.

  Instead of being concerned about that, Ethan exhaled and let his shoulders slump. He was going to replace his clothes anyway, and the rain was neither too hot nor too cold. It felt almost refreshing the way it pelted off his clothing and his hair.

  He thought of the options now available to him, and remembered the fifty dollars Samuel had handed him like it was nothing. He could finally afford to do a little shopping. Thanks to all the wandering he'd done around Grimsborough Heights, he knew where most of the shops were.

  Walking from Samuel's agency, his mind still mulled over the conversation. He'd briefly considered allowing the gang to get themselves killed by invading The Bleeker Building, but had decided against it.

  He and Jason still needed them for a while.

  What he'd said to Stalvek was true. He didn't personally want to be in any of the current mobster outfits. From everything he could tell, they were each despicable in their own ways, and they were all responsible for the way The Grims had fallen into shambles.

  If the gangs were going to use people and do as they pleased, then he would use them and do as he pleased in return. For the time being, that meant faking his loyalty as an Associate of The Green Fists, and he would ride that out as long as possible.

  Remembering his arrangement with Jason McArthur, he looked at his watch and saw that it was a quarter past noon.

  Ethan didn't want to let down what could potentially prove to be a good ally, so he picked up his pace towards Emma's Kitchen.

  Trying to multi-task, he opened up a new message window in his new social screen and typed a short letter for the roguish player from New York.

  On my way to Emma’s like we talked. Be there in a minute. Don't leave.

  He hit send and got a prompt that Jason McArthur would receive the message when postage ran in six hours.

  “Six hours!?” He blurted out, but of course there was no one to counter his disbelief except maybe a few homeless people nearby. He still asked, “What is this, the 1920’s?”

  Still walking, he spent a considerable amount of time upset by the mechanic. It was completely and utterly ridiculous the designers had thought it was a good idea to make players wait for long-distance communications.

  Not everything had to be realistic. Fixing the window certainly hadn't been lifelike, so why was this particular thing so cumbersome?

  He said, “Well, I guess he’ll read that after we meet up.”

  The fact that simple social messages were considered postage, and that they took six hours to deliver, was out of pocket, at least in Ethan's opinion. Closing out the screen, he tried to focus on anything but frustration. It was simultaneously silly to be upset by the mechanic.

  "It is what it is," he said.

  As the storm only continued through mid-day, dark alleyways hid gleaming eyes and strange auras. On more than one occasion he saw red dots appear and then vanish from his mini-map. Trying to pinpoint their exact locations in the shadows proved useless, as they disappeared before he could identify them.

  Vampires, he'd thought at first, but it seemed too obvious for that. They could have been simple human NPCs lurking in the shadows, ready and waiting for him to hit level three.

  It was just another reminder he needed to be prepared. Thankfully, he'd been able to pick a weapon talent, he reminded himself to do a bit of shopping once he was done talking with Jason.

  He continued on his way, his footsteps splashing on the sidewalk and echoing off the buildings around him. He heard sirens in the distance, a constant reminder of the violence that plagued the city.

  As he approached Emma's Kitchen, he let out a sigh of relief, knowing he had a good place to sit down with pleasant company.

  Ethan pushed the door open at 12:31 p.m. and stepped in. The air conditioning in the restaurant hit his soaked body like a blast of cold wind, and he shivered for a minute, letting water seep out from his boots and onto the floor.

  He looked around and saw only a few patrons in the place. One of the NPCs had the name One-Eyed Frankie, which he found amusing. Jason wasn't one of the guests, which was disappointing.

  Emma was busy wiping down the countertop with a rag. She looked up and smiled when the little bell above the door jingled.

  "Hey Ethan, back again, huh?” she said. "What can I get you?"

  "Just a cup of coffee for now. I'm waiting for a friend."

  She nodded and poured him a cup, sliding it across the counter towards him. He took a sip and savored the warmth as bitter caffeine spread through his body. It wasn't the best coffee, but then again he'd never loved it either. Coffee was just okay in his opinion.

  He asked, “you haven't seen a guy named Jason McArthur have you? Real talkative, New York accent?”

  “Oh, that’s a laugh, Ethan Jones! I see all kinds of people. He's been here before, but not today. Can't really tell you much more than that, honey."

  He nodded, deciding to test his limits a bit. “Can't or won't?”

  Emma hesitated, but never let her charming smile fade away.

  “Can't, hun,” she winked. "I know the two of you have a social connection, and we're all friendly with The Greenies here, but unless you're part of the same active group or it's part of a mission, I can't discuss other players with you."

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  Ethan smiled, understanding the rules. It had been the same when he asked Raymond about Jason the first time he saw the player. Opening the social screen just for a second, he noted that Jason's status was still Healthy.

  "Oh," he feigned ignorance, "that makes sense. Well, we had planned to meet up here for lunch, and his status indicates he's still okay, so whenever he gets here I guess we'll order something."

  Emma nodded and kept wiping the counter that truthfully didn't need any more cleaning. "That's perfect, hun! Let me know if you need a refill, or milk, or creamer, or sugar; whatever your little heart desires, darling!"

  He sipped on his coffee and watched the front door for a while. A few NPCs hurried about in the rain outside. Only a handful of player characters passed by in the half-hour or so that he people-watched. None of them ever came near the restaurant.

  When he grew bored of looking outside, Ethan started studying the walls of the diner like he had absolutely nothing else to do. Most of the NPCs he'd seen when he entered had already left, and only one old man remained at the end of the bar.

  Emma came by and refilled both their coffees without even asking. "Perfect day for sipping hot coffee and listening to the rain, ain't that right, One-Eyed Frankie?"

  The blue-collar worker at the end of the counter said, “aye! Got that right, hun!”

  Ethan's mind told him he'd met the man before, but it was actually the first time since those memories from before being plugged in were false. A few weeks earlier, he'd patched up a wall in Frankie's apartment over near Superior Boulevard. He was one of Mr. Gallaghers tenants, and he was one of Dead Ned's neighbors as well.

  Seeing One-Eyed Frankie reminded him of the mission to repair Dead Ned's steps. With less than a thousand experience to go, it was an easy conclusion to think he could hit level three within a couple of hours if he really wanted to. All he had to do was fix some steps and go talk to a cop.

  If Jason didn't get there soon, he would be forced to make that choice. With only five or six hours of daylight left, he needed to get a move on.

  His mind wandered a little. Looking back at the restaurant owner, he wondered if Emma ever took time off. She was a NPC, but still, if the game was going for realism it wouldn't make sense for her to be there all the time.

  “You here all the time?” he asked, just making small talk.

  “Lords, no!” Emma laughed. “I leave around nine at night usually and I’ll be back for the breakfast crowd. Night cooks run the place when I’m sleeping.”

  He nodded. It was good to know the place stayed open at all hours. If in the future he needed a meal in the middle of the night, he knew where to come.

  “Well the food is delicious, so I might end up ordering something early if my friend doesn't show up."

  Emma smiled. “Great! It's good to see you're making progress by the way. All that leveling up should make you hungry, and I'm always ready to cook up something good for my guests!"

  Ethan grinned, once again realizing her role encouraging players. “Thanks, Emma. Anything special today?"

  "Double patty-melt on thick toast with hand cut fries!" She smiled and went back to cleaning the counter. “Just let me know if you want one, hun! Special pricing for The Green Fists, just like normal!"

  “Will do," he smiled.

  Suddenly remembering the affiliations screen, he was about to go read the updates and learn more about those three modifiers he had for being in the gang. Before he could, the front door of the restaurant popped open and a drenched Jason McArthur walked in.

  Soaking wet, the guy trailed water into the place and plopped down next to Ethan.

  "Oh, thank god you're here!" he exclaimed! "I was afraid you would leave because I was too late!"

  Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

  Jason took a deep breath and launched into a story about his day. He talked about witnessing a car chase on Jameson, a shootout in an abandoned warehouse, and a narrow escape from some woman chasing her husband for some reason.

  He listened, half-amused and half-impressed. Jason certainly had a knack for getting into and out of trouble. He hadn't experienced half the crazy things Jason always talked about, but then again he also assumed the guy was exaggerating for impact.

  Then, without having to ask, the guy started talking about his conversation with Samuel Donovan.

  "Went and talked to the old bugger just like you suggested. Couldn't breathe in that office, bro! Dude must chain smoke cigars like they're out of style. Anyway, I didn't have to do much convincing. Samuel just grunted a lot, gave me a saltwater taffy, and asked me why I wanted in."

  Ethan smiled, thinking about Samuel's office. It reminded him of a scene from an old black and white detective film where the main character always figured out the answer through unbelievable context clues. Mountains of folders full of paperwork probably wreaked of cigar smoke as well.

  "What did you say?"

  Jason grinned. "Said you sent me, of course. The old man smirked, and then still asked me the same question again, so I told him I wanted to kill vampires. That got his interest."

  He nodded. It was basically the only thing setting The Green Fists apart from the other gangs, other than modifiers of course.

  "But he still wanted more it felt like. I told him I didn't like the way the city looked, but that I felt like it wasn't The Greenie's fault. You know, I was trying to appeal to him. I blamed it on the other two gangs. He liked that. After a little more talking, he agreed to let me in. We shook hands on it. Pretty simple, actually."

  "Yeah," Ethan agreed. "Good call. I think the city's the way it is because of all three of them, but you played that right I think."

  "Exactly. You know, I leveled up yesterday after joining, and I gotta tell you, I was terrified man. Watched my back the whole way home and stayed inside all night thinking I was gonna get attacked, bro!"

  He held back a growing smile. "You? Afraid? Come on, really?"

  Jason nodded. "For real, bro! I've been running everywhere being as stealthy as frickin' possible and trying to level up as quick as I can! I'm almost at four now, and I thought I could make it. Almost did, but I didn't want to be too late getting here! Almost forgot about it!"

  "Almost four?" He asked.

  Ethan considered the guy sitting next to him. Jason was making progress faster than he was, and although he wasn't envious, it kind of spurred some competitive thoughts.

  "Yeah, Samuel gave me some kind of fetch mission. Already got three out of four. Don't know why he needs them! Don't care! I think I'll hit level four when I find the next one, and then turning in the mission will probably get me half way to five, bro! Joining you guys was a good move! Just got to watch my back now!"

  "Sounds like it!" Ethan said, "by the way, you hungry? Emma said something about a double patty-melt and fries."

  "Heck yeah, bro!" Jason turned to Emma. "Can I get one of those, too! I feel like I'm starving over here!"

  Emma was down at the end of the bar, and she laughed after overhearing the guy. "You want the same thing, Ethan?"

  "Yes, ma'am!"

  "Awesome, hun! They'll be right out! Two specials!"

  After ordering, there was silence between the two of them for about half a minute.

  "Well…" Ethan said, when Jason was unusually quiet. "I can make it to level three in a couple of hours if I don't waste too much time here. But… I do want to talk about some things."

  "Like what?" the other player said quickly. "Hit me, bro! I've seen a lot of stuff around here. I might be able to help!"

  He nodded. "First off, have you looked at the modifiers for being in The Green Fists?"

  Jason winced. "Oh, that! Yeah… They kinda suck honestly."

  "They do? I haven't had a chance to look."

  "Yeah, bro… You should probably do that."

  Letting out a deep sigh, Ethan opened his affiliations screen to take a look for the first time since hitting level two and unlocking the information. He skipped over the gang summaries and instead focused only on the modifiers.

  Bonus Modifiers in [The Green Fists]:

  Burden of the Loyal

  All members of The Green Fists are bound by Langen's Honor. You never ally with, negotiate, or conduct business with vampires. Penalty for violating your oath is death. As a loyal Greenie you agree to protect and defend any other gang member and carry out all orders issued by superiors, with the only possible exception being if that action or order violates Langen's Honor.

  Talent Bonus: Negotiator [+1]

  Courage of the True

  Stay true to the goals and objectives of The Green Fists. So long as you remain a member of The Green Fists, you will receive the following option at every fifth level, allowing you to realign your abilities to the needs of the gang.

  Talent Redistribution: At every fifth level [5, 10, 15] you may choose to move one of your existing talent points to any other talent you already have. Bonus modifiers cannot be moved. Moving the last remaining point of a talent will cause you to forget that talent. Cannot be undone once confirmed.

  Fair Pricing

  Only pay half-price at establishments owned and operated by members of The Green Fists, and at places under their control.

  Ethan studied the modifiers for way too long, and Jason thankfully allowed him time to absorb the information.

  Looking over the first one, he hadn't even noticed the bonus modifier added to his Negotiator talent when he leveled up. Or maybe it wasn't there before he leveled up? He couldn't remember, and honestly he didn't really care.

  If the system had expected him to join The Green Fists, it did at least make some sort of sense now why he had the Negotiator talent at the start instead of something like Tools. Still, if that was the case, he wasn't happy with it.

  Moving on, he liked the idea of being able to redistribute one point every fifth level. It still sounded weak.

  Fair pricing was likely the best modifier in his personal opinion. So long as he shopped at businesses with connections to The Green Fists, he could save quite a bit of cash.