Chapter 09 - Pandora’s Box

  Alone with my thoughts, I stared up listlessly at the rotating ceiling fan and the bland, egg-white colored ceiling that sustained it. Adjacent to me, my VR HeadGear was nestled on an oversized pillow. If one studied the sleek device, one would notice that a light was blinking, indicating that it was charging remotely.

  “There’s no way, right?” My thoughts returned to what I had just experienced.

  Virtual reality games have been around for decades. But they never really took off until the release of a new VR technology: The Mind Dive.

  Five years ago, when the new ground-breaking mind dive technology was released, it was immediately faced with a lot of criticism and controversy originating from both consumers and politicians; mostly, the controversy centered around the users’ right to privacy and mental wellbeing. Back then, manufacturing companies and self-proclaimed tech experts repeatedly reassured the public that although extremely advanced, even with the state-of-the-art mind dive technology equipped, VR devices were simply incapable of reading a user’s thoughts.

  That just wasn’t how the technology worked, they had claimed.

  And although I wasn’t an expert on the subject, five years ago, when I had discussed the subject with some of my more knowledgeable co-workers at work, I had believed them.

  The reason was simple. At the end of the day, a technology capable of actively deciphering and interpreting someone’s mind was too improbable and incredulous. It was science fiction.

  Or maybe, after I experienced first-hand the awesome wonders that the mind dive technology was capable of, I hadn’t wanted to believe it was possible.

  Either way, now more than ever, I felt like I had to know the truth.

  Sliding off the bed, I hopped on my computer.

  My brows furrowed as I found nothing.

  On all the forums, reviews, video comments, and websites, not a single Cultivation Online player had posted anything remotely similar to a concern about the game reading their mind.

  “Am I just being paranoid?” The less I found on the internet, the more paranoid I felt.

  After all, according to the game’s main website, despite being less than three days old, the game already has over 10,000,000 active players.

  Out of all these people, what were the odds that I would be the only person to discover this feature?

  And based on public perception, the game was only going to grow bigger. Heck, to begin with, the only reason why the game wasn’t more popular already was because of the scarce marketing that had led up to the game’s sudden release.

  Furthermore, the game’s genre did have a niche target audience, at least in western society.

  Having said that, with the game’s perfect VR rate, I reckoned that the game could center around teletubbies and it would still break records. No, based purely on my own experiences in-game, I was absolutely certain that as more people learnt about Cultivation Online, the more it would grow. The game’s success was inevitable.

  “Unless people learn of its mind-reading capabilities…” Nevermind the controversial features like NPCs slaughtering players in towns, if people learnt that their minds and private thoughts were being invaded and impinged on, how would they react?

  They wouldn't be happy, that's for sure.

  Subsequently, the question elicited was: should I say something?

  If I did, would anyone listen to me?

  And perhaps most importantly, did I want to say anything?

  Like it or not, the simple truth was that I couldn’t remember feeling more alive than I had felt during these three days of gameplay. Ever since my family was separated, I had been moving through life mechanically. I had been going through the motions, but hadn’t truly been living. Not for a very long time at least.

  Was I ready to give this new lease on life up just to protect the sanctity of my own and others’ privacy?

  Honestly, the fact that I didn’t know the answer to that question scared me a hell of a lot more than the potential mind-reading capabilities themself.

  And what did that say about me as a person?

  …

  For the first time in quite some time, probably since I started my extended leave from work, I went out to eat.

  Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

  Walking down the road leading to one of my favourite pizza parlours, I frowned as I sniffed the air.

  “Smells like gasoline and depression.” I sighed. Compared to the crisp air I had breathed in Cultivation Online, the contrast was discouragingly obvious.

  Unsurprisingly, I had dealt with the problem like I often did: by postponing my decision until later. The fact was I didn’t know what to do. I definitely didn’t like the idea of my children playing a game where their thoughts were impinged on.

  If thoughts could be deciphered, who knows what other dangers the game represented.

  Could memories be manipulated? Personalities changed?

  By playing this game, did we unknowingly sign away our soul?

  In a sense, discovering the mind reading capabilities of the game was like opening Pandora's box. Once opened, it couldn’t be closed again.

  Thus, without knowing what to do, I postponed my decision. Before her passing, my late mother had always told me to not make important decisions on an empty stomach. I'd been living by these words religiously for as long as I could remember, and I definitely wasn't going to call it quits now. Additionally, like my children are intimately aware, I'm not embarrassed about using the phrase myself when I see fit.

  The doorbell rang as I stepped into the pizza parlour called Mama Barbara’s Pizza, where foreign music was being played in old, laggy speakers.

  Fortunately, I wasn't here for the music.

  As I approached the register, a movement in the corner of my eye snatched my attention. On the wall, a small TV screen was surprisingly displaying gameplay from Cultivation Online.

  “Shit, that looks painful.” I winced as I watched a player be impaled by a horned dinosaur-looking creature which proceeded to release an earth-shattering roar. The guards in the caravan had mentioned that there were monsters, but this was my first time seeing one. “Note to self: Don't stray too far off the road.” Even with my sword, I doubted I could inflict much damage on a monster like that.

  “The newest VRMMO taking the world by storm: Cultivation Online! The dark horse of the century or a flop waiting to happen?” The subtitles read before a panel interview proceeded.

  “Ready to order?” The man behind the register asked impatiently, reminding me of where I was. Beside him, the pizza guy looked at me with his hairy arms crossed, also waiting for my order.

  Embarrassed and more than a little chagrined, I ordered one of my all-time favorites: a barbeque chicken, California-style pizza.

  Sliding my card, I declined the receipt before grabbing some utensils on my way to a nearby table.

  My attention, however, was utterly fixated on the tiny TV screen.

  “[...] perfect virtual reality rate! An accomplishment so incredulous that it has left scientists and experts absolutely gobsmacked!”

  “That is certainly one of Cultivation Online’s biggest advantages.” A man nodded in agreement. “Until now, it has been presumed that a perfect virtual rendition of the real world, one capable of masterfully copying all of the five human senses, wouldn't be feasible until at least another century of development. For a hitherto unheard of game development company to suddenly appear and prove otherwise is simply too unbelievable.”

  “You’re talking about Heaven.” The anchorwoman tilted her head cutesly. “Right?”

  “Yes.” The man smirked. “A… lofty name for a game development company for sure, especially for one with no other titles to boast of.”

  “Yet, with virtual reality designers capable of engineering a world like Cultivation Online, they seem to possess the skill necessary to back up their pomposity.”

  “In my opinion, that remains to be seen.” The man shook his head. “The game is still in its introduction phase, after all.”

  “Unfortunately…” The anchorwoman shook her head. “Heaven has declined our invitation for an interview, seemingly determined to maintain their appearance of obscurity.”

  “But!” The anchorwoman’s disappointment quickly transformed into happiness. “With us in the studio we have another very special guest. Join us in welcoming the renowned VRMMO streamer, the Vanquisher of Ar’gometh, and the Guildleader of the Tainted, Cyberwolf!”

  “Excuse me?” I asked, “Do you think you can increase the volume a bit?”

  Since there were no other diners present at the moment, the owner shrugged before acquiescing my request.

  “[...] for having me.” The young man, Cyberwolf, smiled as he sat down on the empty seat in the panel. Behind him, the name of the programme “Virtual Reality Today” was emphasized in futuristic-looking font.

  “First, before we start talking about your experiences and thoughts on the latest VRMMO Cultivation Online, I have to say: your guild’s recent crusade against the High Demon Ar’gometh in Asura’s Descent was hands down one of the most thrilling VR confrontation that I’ve ever gotten the pleasure of witnessing. And let me tell you, that moment when your sword pierced Ar’gometh’s heart… it’s no wonder you were dubbed the Vanquisher of Ar’gometh afterward.”

  Cyberwolf smiled a confident smile, clearly used to receiving praise.

  “Thank you. But, I have to clarify something. While I might’ve been the one to deal the final blow to the boss, it was a team effort that wouldn’t have been possible without the hard-earned efforts of my fellow guildmates.”

  “Of course.” The anchorwoman added with a pleased look on her face. “But enough about Asura, let us talk a bit about Cultivation Online. You’ve played the game, I’m sure?”

  “Yes.” Cyberwolf’s smile turned serious. “But I don’t know if I would call it a game.”

  “Oh?” The anchorwoman lifted an eyebrow. Even the man looked confused.

  “As far as I can tell, Cultivation Online far exceeds the limited confines of a game.” Cyberwolf elaborated. “Not only are the NPCs nearly indistinguishable from actual human beings, but more than once, while playing the so-called game, I forgot that I was in a virtual world.”

  I unconsciously nodded in agreement.

  “So even the fabled Cyberwolf is impressed by the graphics?”

  “That would be an understatement.” Cyberwolf quickly responded. “The level of details that Heaven has been able to reproduce is quite frankly inconceivable. What we are talking about isn’t a virtual reality game, but a fully-functional, highly-tuned virtual world, basically indistinguishable from our own.”

  The two hosts looked at each other in evident surprise.

  “So, I take it you like this gam- I mean Cultivation Online?”

  Again, Cyberwolf smiled confidently. “Indeed I do, in fact, I’ve already informed my guild that I’m switching to Cultivation Online full-time.”

  Now, this statement induced shock in the studio.

  “Cyberwolf is switching games?” The anchorwoman’s eyes resembled a pair of saucers. “After meticulously constructing a persona and a lore for five years in Asura’s Descent, the Cyberwolf is switching games?”

  Nodding seriously, Cyberwolf explained.

  “Yes, and of course, I didn’t make this decision lightly. After all, it’s my career we’re talking about here.” Cyberwolf shook his head mirthlessly. “Nevertheless, I really think that Cultivation Online is destined to surpass Asura’s Descent and claim the spot as the world’s most popular VR game. And so far, the numbers agree with me.”

  “They sure do.” The male anchor agreed. “10,000,000 active players in less than three days? That’s an outright ludicrous number.”

  “So…” The anchorwoman leaned forward in wide-eyed curiosity, unintentionally revealing her well-endowed cleavage to the audience. “What advice do you have for our audience who have yet to start playing Cultivation Online? Apart from recklessly attacking elite monsters in the forests, that is?”

  Smiling, Cyberwolf turned to look at the camera.

  “Firstly, I’ll give you the same advice as I gave my guildmates, do not treat the NPCs carelessly. Although just a theory for now, it is well established that NPCs treat players differently based on their approach and behavior. An invisible amity system.”

  “Oh, that’s a good one!” The male anchor interjected before Cyberwolf continued.

  “Secondly, if you’re unfamiliar with eastern cultivation as a whole, I strongly suggest you read up on the Chinese Xianxia genre and Daoism philosophy. Even if you do not decide to become a cultivator, I’ve found that the world’s culture is intricately connected to the genre.”

  “Thirdly, though possible, don’t waste your time trying to create an original cultivation method. Plenty of my friends have wasted hours trying to create one. In my opinion, your time is much better spent learning and developing your proficiencies for example. Which, as far as I can tell, is the name for passive skills in CO.”

  “Finally, if you see a cultivator…” Cyberwolf smirked at the camera. “Lower your head or hide. Because unlike in normal ‘games’, players are not the protagonists of the world; cultivators are. My advice? Join a sect and start cultivating as if your life depends on it; in the Cultivation Online, the only rule that matters is that the strong do what they want, and the weak suffer what they must.”

  As I continued watching the interview unfold, I listened to Cyberwolf animatedly explain how he was in the process of joining a sect whose name he didn’t want to reveal yet. He talked about the friends he’d made, both players and NPCs, and he described the thrill of advancing his proficiencies to the next level. And while I didn’t understand his obsessive fascination with alchemy, I did recognize the excitement on his face.

  How couldn’t I when it was the same look I’d started seeing in the mirror lately?

  “...” Suddenly, I remembered the time limit until the end of the provisional outer disciple trial.

  “What am I doing?”

  …