Chapter 9 – The Mysterious Stranger

  The first week at the accounting office had come to an end. Daniel was astonished at how hectic things were there. Everyone was in a rush, ready to vent their stress on whoever spoke to them first. The exception was Samara, his mentor. She taught him how to use each tool with the patience of a saint.

  Even so, Daniel remained frustrated by how hard it was to learn his tasks. Samara had to repeat every procedure until they stuck in his head. Fitting into that environment seemed impossible.

  As expected, the job left him with only a few hours a week to spend in New Avalon Online, making Daniel daydream about the game for much of his shift, thinking about ways to level up and how to obtain better gear.

  Those thoughts exacerbated how hard it would be to win the bet made with Artic and Niki. There was no doubt they had more free time on their hands, making it easier to reach level 20.

  Even with all those worries swirling in his head, Daniel was relieved it was finally Friday night. It was time to put some of the ideas he’d come up with during work into practice.

  But there was something more important to do that weekend: meeting the mysterious contact at the coordinates X:1500 Y:300 Z:700.

  Daniel went to his immersion capsule, settled in, and entered the game.

  ***

  Ragnar stood on a dirt road near the place where he and Julie had last met. From there, he could still see Bremer’s city walls, but the coordinates on the map pointed in a different direction.

  Before setting out, he switched his friend list status to invisible so that Skiff, who was online at the time, would not notice him. The truth was, he wanted to invite his friend along, but this was a journey he needed to take alone.

  Determined, Ragnar journeyed south along the dirt road. He encountered a few adventurers, warriors, and merchant caravans. But while crossing a wooden bridge, a sharp pain pierced his back.

  The impact was so sudden and strong that it nearly knocked him off his feet. Adrenaline surged through his body. The druid drew his new spear, The Vipers Ruin, and whistled to summon Lady Plissken, his serpent companion.

  “Get him!” he ordered, pointing at the archer on the other side of the bridge.

  He studied both ends of the wooden structure, trying to pick up any sound other than the hunter’s shouts. Thuds echoed faintly as if something were knocking on wood, each hit louder and clearer than the last.

  Ragnar had to act fast. He prepared a spell in his left hand and thrust the spear forward with his right, hitting only air, then swung the open palm toward the left.

  The instant his hand brushed something invisible, roots burst from the wooden planks of the bridge and snared the assassin who had been creeping closer under an invisibility effect.

  Ragnar hesitated, Lady Plissken’s health bar was below ten percent. He whistled again, recalling her from the battle.

  Now the archer was free to attack at will. He drew an arrow from his quiver and nocked it on the bow. Meanwhile, Ragnar transformed into a serpent and coiled around the assassin caught in his roots.

  The name Black Paw Guild appeared when Ragnar used the inspect function. Using all his strength, he crushed the man’s body. A strangled grunt escaped the assassin’s lips before hitting the ground, lifeless.

  Ragnar reverted to human form and turned toward the archer, but the man was already fleeing, too far away to chase. He took a deep breath and rested for a minute on the bridge. Unfortunately, Lady Plissken was badly wounded, it would take a while for her to recover.

  He checked his map again and discovered that the meeting point was close. Smiling, he crossed the bridge and followed up a narrow trail leading into the mountains.

  Rocks were everywhere. At first, Ragnar had to balance from one rock to another, until he remembered an easier way across.

  Using his serpent form, Ragnar slithered through the sharp stones. The downside was that, as a small creature, he could only see what was directly ahead. To fix that, he paused occasionally to stretch his body upward to scout the path ahead.

  Soon enough, the advantages outweighed the drawbacks. Within minutes, he reached a smooth platform made of gray stone.

  For some reason, the coordinates indicated he should be inside the mountain, not atop a rock. Ragnar tried to recall the mysterious contact’s messages, one that mentioned learning the Will-o’-the-Wisp skill.

  In a way, that spell had helped him during the Serpents’ Den incursion, but there was no reason to use it now under broad daylight.

  Night, that was the key. Ragnar would have wagered all his coins that casting Will-o’-the-Wisp in the darkness would reveal a secret passage or mechanism.

  But it would take hours before nightfall. It was only noon in New Avalon. Unwilling to just stand there waiting, Ragnar raised his spear like Moses parting the Red Sea, then cast Will-o’-the-Wisp, and shouted at the rock wall, “Open up, damn it!”

  And the platform opened like a trapdoor, swallowing him into the mountain.

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  After screams and protests, Ragnar realized he was sliding over a smooth surface.

  Darkness was absolute. There was no way to tell where he was or where he was going. He spent two minutes descending into the mountain. The ride ended when a flash blurred his vision and a slimy mattress broke his fall.

  Ragnar stood up, trying to wipe off the green slime that covered him from head to toe. The once-blinding light came from a lantern hung against the wall. The place was nothing more than a small, claustrophobic space and a corridor leading who knows where.

  The passage was dark, so Ragnar conjured a Will-o’-the-Wisp at the tip of his spear and moved forward. After several minutes of walking, there came a point when the path narrowed to the width of a car tire. Ragnar shapeshifted into a serpent and continued on.

  He spent a full hour in the darkness until he reached a cavern surrounded by red flowers, lush green moss, and butterflies with bright blue wings. The place was cut by a stream of pure water that flowed into a waterfall.

  “Welcome to our refuge,” said a man standing barefoot in the river. “We know the truth behind the fall of the Dark Age.”

  Ragnar froze, eyes wide open. A thousand questions crowded his mind, but when he tried to voice them, nothing came out. He took a deep breath and spoke calmly, “Who are you?”

  "I'm an employee at Virtual Realms, a developer of this game. I'm also part of an activist group that emerged within the company. As for the reason behind this meeting, it’s to tell you that your team’s downfall was planned." He walked out of the river and sat on a rock.

  "What do you mean by planned downfall?" Ragnar approached cautiously; for some reason, he felt he could trust the man.

  "Ronaldo Emerich was the one responsible for orchestrating the company’s collapse."

  "That doesn’t make any sense. He was convicted," Ragnar replied.

  "Was he really?" said the strange man in a provocative tone. Then he opened a system window. A page rendered in front of Ragnar. It was a news article stating that Emerich had been acquitted due to lack of evidence.

  "Impossible!" the druid shouted.

  "He's just a piece in a much bigger game."

  Seeing the druid’s furious expression, the long-haired man continued, "He’s been hired by Virtual Realms. If my contacts are correct, Emerich will soon be announced as the new Head of the South American E-Sports Division for New Avalon Online."

  Ragnar let out a nervous laugh.

  "I don’t understand. Why would the company behind such a successful game want to destroy my team?"

  "Emerich was Virtual Realms lackey inside Dark Age, but the team’s board never accepted the shady proposals made by the company behind the game. One of those proposals was to throw the matches in the last World Championship you participated in."

  "You’ve got to be kidding me." Ragnar stopped as a wave of irritation surged inside him. After pausing and thinking for a moment, he asked, "Is there any proof this really happened?"

  Once again, the strange man opened a system window. This time, an audio recording echoed through the cave. A strange voice said, “So, my friend, what’s our situation for tomorrow’s match?” There was a bit of static before the second voice joined in, Emerich’s voice: “I talked to the guys this morning… they didn’t agree…”

  There was a pause before the first voice returned, “Seriously? Damn it… but you know what? Screw it! It’s fine. Tomorrow your boys will be crushed by White Snow. There’s no way the third-best team in the world can beat the number one, there’s a huge gap between them.”

  Emerich’s voice came back, now more serious and worried, “I hope so… But it’s too early to celebrate. Every year the main team improves. If we don’t stop them now, there’ll come a time when they’ll bridge that gap.”

  The strange voice asked, “Do you happen to have access to their training records?”

  Emerich answered, “Of course I do. I’ll send them to you later today.”

  “Good, good. I’m sure that’ll be very helpful.”

  The recording ended. Ragnar put his hands on his head and spoke without any expression, "So it was all rigged from the start? Was Seven Heavens destined to win the world championship before we even entered the arena?"

  The dark-skinned man climbed down from the rock and approached the druid. He played another recording, but Ragnar couldn’t understand, it was in Korean.

  "Sorry," the man said. "I’ll activate the translation."

  The recording started again. The voice was the same, but now in Brazilian-Portuguese, “White Snow, you’re going to that room right now and you’re going to watch Dark Age’s training sessions!”

  A second voice replied, “Do you really think I’m that kind of person? Do I look like someone who needs to cheat to beat a third-world team? Even if I had to, even if that Dante guy were a god, I would never, ever stoop to that level.”

  Ragnar lifted his head.

  "So, the only hope of winning the championship would be with a team I created myself?" he asked softly.

  The man nodded, and with his help Ragnar stood up, picked up the spear lying on the ground and said, "Thank you for telling me the truth. I’ll be forever grateful to you and your team."

  "There’s one more thing you need to know. Now that your old rivals from Red Crows have reached the top of the Brazilian rankings, they’ve made a deal with Virtual Realms. In exchange for participating in this year’s World Championship as your team’s replacements, they’ll throw the game if they make it past the group stage."

  Ragnar closed his eyes. Julia’s face came to his mind.

  "You should expose this to the world."

  "We’ve tried—again and again—but they always manage to bury the truth. Virtual Realms is too big to fail. That’s why we founded a resistance group inside the corporation. We want to change things from within, but we’ll need help from the outside."

  The man gestured for him to follow. Together, they crossed the small river and headed to the other side of the cave.

  "Why did you ask me to create a druid avatar?" Ragnar asked.

  "Because I know where to find an evolution quest for that class," the stranger replied. "You’ve already completed the first part of it, by coincidence. Now you need to find the home of the one who forged the spear you’re holding: the Vipers Ruin. He used to live in the Iron Bears’ Refuge."

  Ragnar’s eyes lit up. He remembered the strange quest he’d received when he claimed his new spear. The rewards section only listed a ‘???’.

  "Where is this Iron Bears’ Refuge?" Ragnar wanted to know.

  "Northeast of Bremer City. You’ll have to venture deep into the forest. There are no roads or trails leading there. Let me mark it on your map."

  A brief, sharp chime rang out. Ragnar opened his map and saw a red ‘X’ marked in an unexplored area.

  "I have no idea how to thank you and your group for all this. I’ll be forever indebted to you. So… may I at least know the name of the one helping me?"

  The strange man clasped his hands together and let out a long sigh before answering, "The less you know about us, the better. We’re helping because it hurts to see our teams being wronged by the big shots of the industry. New Avalon was supposed to be a world where anyone could venture freely without worrying about real-world politics and corruption. It was meant to be a world that valued talent, effort, camaraderie, and the rivalry between players."

  Ragnar shared that same vision, but he knew that New Avalon Online was one of the most profitable products in the world. Of course there would be corruption, manipulation, and bad actors behind Virtual Realms’ most influential positions.

  But what am I supposed to do? Just stand by and watch the world I love crumble before my eyes? At least now I know there are good people inside the company, Ragnar thought.

  The man looked at him solemnly.

  "Who knows? Maybe a legendary class will put you on equal footing with White Snow’s legendary Duelist."

  Ragnar laughed.

  "You know how to motivate me, I’ll give you that."