Chapter 005
Stalvek Dyomin
He was still in the lobby of his apartment building next to Raymond when he closed out his screen and looked around. The night porter simply stood there, not really doing anything except being a good NPC.
Ethan said, "Thanks again, Raymond."
The old man nodded. "Anytime, sir."
He stepped out from Hollow Court Apartments and the sounds of Grimsborough Heights enveloped him. Despite being early in the morning, the streets buzzed with a low energy.
The collective hum of a megacity echoed from darkened alleyways. He looked around, having not quite expected to find the sidewalks so busy already.
The buildings were brick, iron, and thick, designed with care and detail. They rose high into the sky, where just the slightest glint of sunlight crept up from the horizon.
Broken bottles and discarded refuse lined the sidewalks, where a surprising number of NPCs roamed. Men wore scally caps and bowler hats, walked with canes, and had all manner of unique beards. Women wore flapper dresses and long-feathered hats.
Streetlamps splashed an eerie, flickering glow, their gas-powered flames struggling to stay lit.
The acrid stench of decay and stale urine hung heavy in the air, making him grimace. It was amazing the level of detail NexaTechNeuro had put into the game, since smell and taste weren't part of regular ones.
Ethan felt as though he was truly in The Grims. It was a dark and dangerous place, and he needed to keep himself aware if he wanted to live.
In the distance, he spotted the flickering neon of a seedy bar as they closed up. Its windows were clouded with grime. A group of rough-looking NPCs exited, clearly having worked a long night. One of them locked the door and then they all walked away together.
As he drew closer, passing them, he could hear the group speaking in a mix of profanities and tired laughter.
"I'm telling ya right now, Mr. Sadler ain't gonna like this one bit," a man slurred.
"Sadler?" another laughed with contempt. A cloud of smoke billowed from his nostrils. "Who cares? We help our own, y'hear? The gangs are all gonna kill each other, and we don't wanna be on their bad sides, especially The Cortez Family.”
Their words piqued Ethan's curiosity but he knew better than to linger. He didn't want to end up in another fifteen minute conversation that got him nowhere, or worse, in a fight after listening in when he didn't have the right to.
After the bar workers left, he received a notification.
Achievement: Listener - You listen during conversations.
He smirked, thinking that one in particular was beyond useless. It was stupid. Shrugging, he decided to stay focused. There was a city to explore and missions to get through.
He knew getting lost there could be a death sentence, but thankfully his initial bit of knowledge received when being loaded in told him some basics.
Ethan walked by Shulberry Lane. The buildings leaned inward, as if conspiring in whispered betrayal. Oddly enough he knew the street to be full of vampire-friendly businesses. The thought sent shivers through him.
A red neon sign on one of the buildings buzzed and flickered, advertising rooms for rent by the hour at Shulberry Red Light. Multiple groups of scantily-clad NPCs chatted in cliques near the front door.
He saw a variety of every gender combination he could think of, looking at him hungry for his business despite the sun coming up. That kind of arrangement likely had clientele at all hours.
Interesting.
Almost distracted by thoughts of how sexual mechanics worked within the game, he decided against finding out right away. He had no idea if he might get infected by something that needed medical treatment.
Being watched on live streaming services, he also thought about how embarrassing it might be to potentially perform poorly with a hired partner. He didn't want that type of anxiety or medical issue.
The next street was Draven Court. The brick road was buckled and cracked. Looming buildings lined the sidewalks, their windows dark and empty like soulless eyes.
Hand painted graffiti marked their walls in vivid streaks of red and black. All the tags were indecipherable to him, like some type of language he might need to learn in order to navigate secret directions.
Then he reached Whitaker Street. The road forked before him like the talons of some great beast.
To his left, the buildings seemed older, their brickwork weathered by decades of abandonment.
Storefronts lined the ground level, their windows boarded up or shattered. Rickety fire escapes climbed the structures, their metal rusted and dangerous.
To his right were townhomes and a row of unique apartment complexes. Their windows glowed with dim interior lights, hinting at the lives unfolding inside.
Faded awnings hung above the entrances, flapping gently in the night breeze. A few cars lined the curb, their old bodyworks covered in dents and scratches.
He turned left, heading towards the businesses. After a few blocks he spotted the unmistakable silhouette of a Ford Model T police car, its black and white paint gleaming dully under a streetlamp.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
Officer Packley, a burly NPC in uniform with a flat-brimmed hat, stood beside it. He had his nightstick raised as he barked orders at a handcuffed NPC pinned against the vehicle's fender.
The man being arrested was Billy Sadler. He realized it was probably the same Sadler the bar workers had mentioned.
Ethan stepped closer and looked at the details of the classic car. It had rounded fenders, tall thin tires, and the distinct shiny accents that marked the era.
Even in the dim light, he could see the Grimsborough Heights police emblem emblazoned on the door.
Sadler struggled futilely against the officer's grip, his face contorted in rage.
"I didn't do nothin'! That man’s lyin’!” Billy Sadler snarled. "Lemme go, ya flatfoot!"
Officer Packley was having none of it. With a deft motion, he shoved the man into the back of the car. "Save it for the judge, Sadler," he growled, slamming the door with a thud.
Only after the NPC had been put in the old cop car did Ethan notice the blue-named player in the shadows to his side.
Ethan jumped, and he watched the player grin, arms folding across a thin chest. As the man leaned against the brick storefront he gave off an attitude that he didn't really care about much.
The blue name above him informed Ethan this was Stalvek Dyomin. The man didn't move, but watched him with piercing blue eyes. They bore right through his soul and sent shivers through his body.
This was a good example for why he needed a mini-map. The man intimidated Ethan, even though he knew it was just a game. If he'd been aware of the guy, he wouldn't have been so surprised.
Stalvek's dress pants and shirt were ironed crisp, and his dress shoes were polished bright. His eyes were focused on Ethan like a hawk watching a rabbit.
The man looked sharp, just like an eager young mafia villain on the rise. Ethan wondered if the man had started off with those clothes or if he'd already been able to find different ones.
The stranger stepped forward, dim light revealing chiseled features and close-cropped hair. His movements were precise, giving off a calm self-assurance.
"Well, well," Stalvek said, his voice a low rumble that mocked him. The man had a thick accent, maybe Russian, but he wasn't sure. "If it isn't the great Ethan Jones himself, stumbling through The Grims like a lamb to the slaughter."
He tensed, gulping at Stalvek's mocking tone. "And you are...?"
A thin smile crept across his lips, void of any warmth. "Stalvek Dyomin. I guess you don't even know how to read the name above my head. No wonder you're not even level one yet.”
He had noticed the name, but the player's sudden appearance had made him lose focus. Ethan stumbled on his words like an idiot.
"No, I noticed…"
Stalvek ignored him, instead judging Ethan. After a minute, his eyes drifted over to the cop. "This is my second mission already accomplished. I'm almost level two. You'd best pick up the pace, Jones!"
A cold knot twisted in his gut as he realized the implications. Stalvek was already outpacing him, and judging by his smug demeanor, he was well aware of it.
Worse, there was an unmistakable confidence about him. Ethan had a sense the man was toying with him.
It made sense. The guy was playing up his part for his potential audience. The man's eyes constantly looked around as if he was positioning himself for invisible cameras.
Ethan's immediate opinion of the man wasn't good. Stalvek was an alpha type who spoke with an elegant flair and knew what he was doing.
He thought about what to do and visibly swallowed hard, struggling to maintain his composure under Stalvek's piercing gaze. If he wasn't going to kill him, or couldn't, then he might as well try to get some answers.
"So, uh...” Ethan asked, “I guess you have a good handle on how the game works?”
The man was acting tough, but the other player might just be bragging. He took the chance, working under the assumption that if Stalvek could attack him, he already would have.
Stalvek's smile faded. "You could say that. Tell me, Ethan Jones, have you at least unlocked the mission and profile screens? Do you even know who you are yet?”
"I think so. It's... a bit of a learning curve."
"Hmm." Stalvek arched an eyebrow. "Well, perhaps I can offer some... insights."
His gaze moved back to Officer Packley, who was climbing into the front of the patrol car.
"Completing missions, that's the key to gaining experience. You only get a little bit from doing random stuff. Follow your character's main storyline and don't get distracted by common sense.
"Like this mission I just did," he continued. "You have to listen to the hints in every NPC's dialogues in order to speed-run this thing."
Ethan smirked. "Thanks?"
Stalvek laughed. "And I can tell you haven't picked a side yet. You're gonna have to ally yourself and start doing what you're told. That's what I just did now. Ratted out one of my own since no one else in my gang had the balls to do it. I get tons of experience, and I'll be top dog before anyone else, guaranteed."
Another chill ran down Ethan's spine.
It sound like a similar storyline to the one he had. If Stalvek had decided to rat out Billy Sadler for something, then Ethan could probably get a ton of experience for ratting out Mr. Gallagher.
Stalvek seemed to notice his discomfort. The thin smile widened a fraction. "What's the matter, Jones? Having second thoughts already? Maybe this will convince you to go ahead and give up!”
He opened his mouth to respond, but the man silenced him by removing a spiked baseball bat from his waistline. Ethan stepped back out of fear he was about to use it, but also in amusement the weapon materialized directly from his pants.
It was simply the way inventories worked, he mused. Then he wondered if that would be his last thought before getting killed.
Stalvek laughed, waving the nail-spiked bat in front of him. “Can’t use it as a weapon yet. Just wanted to give you an early glimpse of your death. My, oh, my! I can't wait for level three!"
Ethan nodded, somewhat relieved in knowing he had more time before he died. Trying to investigate the weapon gave him no stats regarding it. Either he couldn't see any stats at all, or he just couldn't see his stats.
“Well…” he stammered, “maybe-“
“Save it! I don't have time for your naivete." Stalvek's eyes narrowed to icy slits, and his weapon disappeared. "Listen closely. Stay out of my way. This is my game to win, and I don't intend to let some casual like you impede my progress."
"Hey, I'm just trying to figure things out, same as you–"
"No! Not the same as me at all. You're a casual noob, stumbling around blind while the real players are racking up experience and making a name for ourselves!"
Stalvek leaned in closer, his words a low hiss. "I suggest you watch your step, Jones. The Grims can be... an unforgiving place."
Ethan clenched his fists, fighting the urge to back away from the man.
Building courage, I responded instead. "Yeah, well, maybe we'll see about that."
Stalvek's eyes glared at him with anger, his jaw tightening. For a tense moment Ethan could tell he wanted to hit him. He knew this man was going to be trouble.
Stalvek's expression smoothed into an eerie calm, knowing he couldn't do anything. Ethan watched his eyes dart around, as if he was still playing up the bit for invisible cameras.
"Help you?" He let out a harsh bark of laughter. "Why in God's name would I do that? You're not with The Cortez Family! Until you pick a side, I don't give two shits about you!”
He frowned at the words, but grew more curious about The Cortez Family. For some reason it made sense to him Stalvek had chosen that gang. They were described as being ruthless killers.
“The Cortez Family?” He asked, trying to gather more details, “who are they?"
Stalvek had already turned, his hand raised in a dismissive gesture. "That's none of your concern. Just stay out of my way, Jones!"
But the man couldn't resist more final words. "Oh, and one more thing. Don't trust a word that comes out of The Green Fists' mouths. They'll feed you whatever lies suit their agenda. If I was you, I'd pick your alignment very carefully. Everything in the game depends on it!"
With that final ominous warning, Stalvek Dyomin melted into the shadows, leaving Ethan alone on the dimly lit street with more questions than answers.
His hands were shaking, either from anger or fear. It was probably a good mix of both. He clenched them into fists, taking a few deep breaths to steady his nerves.
Stalvek was dangerous, and he was sure there were plenty of other players out there ready and willing to kill him.
The other player seemed to be aligned with The Cortez Family, or at least doing missions for them. If that was the case then Ethan knew he needed to figure out who Sadler was and why Stalvek had him arrested.
He might be able to get more answers out of Samuel Donovan whenever they met, he figured. At least, it seemed like a good plan.
A notification appeared.
Achievement: Player Say Hi - You communicated with another real player for the first time.