Greg loosened the grip his tie had on his neck – an uncomfortable addition to his school uniform – and let out a deep, relieved sigh. Classes were over, and he was finally able to do what he had been dreaming of all day.

Granted, later he would need to do some homework and prep work for tests and such, but for now, he simply wanted to enjoy the warm rays of the sun and the feeling of freedom brought by the archaic school bells.

Still, at least being in his last year of mandatory schooling, he was able to do the one activity that seemed to be captivating most of the world's attention since the beginning of the year.

Magic Unbound

The game everybody was talking about. The game that was considered the game of the year by April. The game that literally changed the world.

And he was part of it.

Unfortunately, he wasn't some high-ranking member of a guild, or peerless expert in magic or martial weapons. Neither was he a great explorer, fantastic innovator, or cunning businessman. Greg tried, but he quickly realized that he didn't really have the talent that rocketed a bunch of people to the top of the pile.

'Not to mention Solar…' he mused as he calmly walked toward the bus station with a bunch of his schoolmates, the excited chatter providing a familiar white noise to his thoughts.

Similar to a lot of people, especially those who started in Greenwood – knowing now that people near each other in real life would start in the same starting villages – he was a rather big fan of the aforementioned player.

He followed every announcement, every forum post, every inarticulate rant about how he was cheating, every video of his fights, and anything else he could. How couldn't he, when the man basically redefined what it meant to be successful at a game?

Everybody wanted to be like him. Having several successful businesses creating an endless fountain of gold, a guild so strong that most other guilds in the Emerald Kingdom instead of fighting, either assimilated or fully left the country, surrounded by rich babes all day, and on top of that, a once in a century gaming talent that could stand up to the resources of the giant gaming workshops, companies and probably even some governments.

To him, it sounded like the perfect life.

"Haaaaa…." He let out another sigh as he closed the door behind him and shucked off the jacket and shoes. "What I wouldn't do to have the same…"

Sadly, life was cruel and uncaring.

Quickly grabbing a packet of his favorite snacks, he walked with growing excitement toward his room. In there, he threw his bag on the bed, which landed next to it with a thud, and the packet of snacks on his desk. Then, reverently, Greg picked up his gaming helmet from its stand, pulled off his socks (if he didn't, the circulation in his leg would be shot after playing for a few hours), and lay down on the bed. With the helmet on his head.

He remembered to send a message to the family chat to make sure people knew where he was before the scene before him darkened, and he was staring at the login button.

Opening his eyes, he found himself in the same place he had logged out.

The guild barracks.

Joining a guild was not really aligned with his dream of charging ahead of the pack solo, with sword raised high and destroying hordes of monsters with a swing of said weapon while barely dressed women swooned nearby, but it was a living.

His income in-game was enough that he had to talk to his father about setting up a savings account. Boy, was that an awkward conversation. Greg sometimes thought that his father preferred that he sell drugs instead of making money from a game. But thanks to this 'job', he had already amassed a rather nice nest egg, which, with his calculation, would be enough to go to a nice university without any loans after a few more months of pay.

A compromise between him and his father. He would be allowed to play, but he would need to go to a university. Seeing as his father wasn't forcing him to try to get into a top education institution, Greg felt it was a rather nice deal.

Naturally, a person with his talent couldn't really make that much money just by working for a guild. A random player's salary with no outstanding talent or exceptional skill was comparable to a minimum wage worker. However, Greg had some luck with drops – taken by his superior but compensated for – and made sure to apply for only the shittiest jobs that nobody wanted.

The last time he volunteered for the same kind of guard task he was doing right now, his in-game 'friends' even chipped in and got him a nice bonus. The work was shit, but he had seen some really interesting things.

At first, he wanted to collect the information, but then he realized, after some research, that he didn't really have the skills to pass them on securely before the guild's security came down on him like a ton of bricks.

So, he simply did the work mandated by the contract, occasionally laughed or clapped when one of his superiors said something they thought was funny or witty, and simply counted the gold he was collecting.

Finished with his woolgathering, he straightened his red cloak, made sure his armor was in good state, then checked his notifications and messages. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Nodding to himself, he opened the door that led from his shoebox-sized room (only for the players, because they had to log in and out) and headed for the spot he was assigned.

As he walked the narrow corridors of the barracks, he occasionally met some people. With the players, he just nodded respectfully or greeted them if they were familiar. However, with the NPCs, his attitude was extremely different.

"Brother, glory to the blood!"

"For the blood god!"

"Ah, I wish the blood would flow my way…"

"Indeed, illuminating sermon last week…"

Per guild regulations, NPCs must be fully indoctrinated into the cult, so every player was tasked with repeating several lines issued by the leaders. Greg thought it was rather funny how the NPCs seemed to shine when he mentioned the blood god or told them how nice the sermon was (that he didn't attend).

'Simple fools…' he chuckled under his breath.

Clocking in, he took his stance near the blood red portal to the fracture that he visited only once, just to do some kind of weird ritual. Following that, he began the time-honored security guard activity of zoning out.

He watched boredly as group after group was led through the fracture, only to return almost minutes later, tired and a little pale, but excited.

Then, just as he was about to yawn…

BOOM

An explosion shook his world.

He ducked, almost instinctively, and began looking for the source of the explosion.

Somebody was firing spells!

More and more explosions and then the screams and cries of the people of the fortification filled the air. Greg, tried making sense of the situation, but everybody was yelling, the guild chat was scrolling by too fast, so he just stood there, hand on his mace, and tried to figure out what to hit with it.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Then more screams and cries, and he felt his body practically explode as something rammed into it. For a moment, he felt himself flying, several defensive skills activating, before his back hit one of the half-finished walls.

Another moment, and something rushed toward the portal, but his attention was instead on the thing that slammed into him and was currently rampaging in the portal hall.

He saw a tail coming for his head and then…

[YOU DIED!]

As Greg stared incomprehensibly at the familiar screen, there was one thought running through his head.

"What the hell was a platypus doing there?"

Katie was excited.

They would soon head out and have some awesome fights. Well, as soon as Sam got back from his visit to the royal court. Lucy made sure to leak the invitation, both to grow their prestige and to divide the attention directed at their guild, and she saw some of the posts.

Most people were already laughing at the guild for bragging about the invitation. According to said forums, a bunch of people were already issued quests that led them to the royal halls, but it was nothing more than a perfunctory pat on the head and some empty words from officials.

No matter who was invited, nobody really met the king. One person claimed to have met the prince, but nobody believed them. Most people thought that meeting one of the ministers or generals was good enough, but nothing noteworthy. Or at least not noteworthy enough for AFK and Chrysalis to brag about it.

Katie just smirked and used one of her sock puppet accounts to stoke the fires. A few well-placed comments here and there, a leak of some info that made her words believable (thanks to Lucy's file of leakable info), and then she just had to sit back and watch the fireworks.

It was great fun!

Plus, she couldn't wait to see their faces when Sam inevitably came back from an actual meeting with the king.

"What do you think? Is he being recruited to be a spy? Or maybe they want to nationalize his business and town?" she asked Isabella, who was lying on the ground in the grass, grasping for breath, cheeks flushed and chest heaving as she took great breaths. Katie felt it was a great look on her. They had just finished the first half of a fracture, killing the mini-boss, and were resting.

"I…huh…think…huh…that it was more about the blood army…" she spoke between taking great gulps of air. "Why the fuck were you rushing so fast, you gremlin?" she asked with a scowl directed at Katie.

She looked away, not meeting her friend's eyes. "I just wanted to see if we could break the speed record! And look, we did!" It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she thought Isabella looked funny when exhausted. No, ma'am. Nothing at all!

"Do we at least get a reward for breaking it?"

"Nah, it's just something that players set up…"

Isabella stared at her for a moment, then began to growl. "So… you're saying I almost vomited up my lungs just so we could show up some speed runners?"

Katie thought that the growl oddly fit the other girl. "Pretty much, yeah. Lucy told me to draw as many eyes as possible." She grinned. "What's more eye-catching than two pretty girls breaking speed records while brutally murder…wait, what were we killing?"

"Goblins, you empty-headed berserker!"

Katie hit the palm of her hand with her fist. "Yes! Goblins! There is nothing more eye-catching than two pretty girls breaking a speed record while brutally murdering goblins! They are the enemy of women everywhere!"

"You should stop reading those stupid books…"

"But you recommended them to me…"

"Oh, right… Well, why did you listen to me?"

"Good question…"

For a long moment, the two young women, one sitting on a rock, the other lying in the grass, looked at each other silently before both of them burst out laughing.

Isabella then slowly got up from the grass, made sure her dress was free of grass stains with a few well-placed Clean spells (Thank you, Sam!), and turned toward Katie. She stretched a little, then, with a fierce war cry, threw herself at her annoying friend.

"Let me pay you back for that!"

"Ieeeee…." Katie let out a scream as Isabella caught her. "Hahahaha! How…hahahaha…are…hahaha…you tickling me through armor?"

Isabella just redoubled her efforts. Her friend would pay dearly for her suffering…

A few minutes later, both of them lay on the green grass, Katie on the ground, panting from laughing so much, and Isabella on top of her, hair disheveled and a grin on her face.

"Are you ready to admit that I won?" she asked while staring down at Katie, her hair framing her face as the light in the fracture shone behind her, making her look almost like she had a halo.

Katie looked back at Isabella, their eyes meeting and chests heaving with exertion, and for a long moment, there was only their breathing slowly returning to normal and the slight breeze going around the fracture that could be heard.

Then an odd thought emerged in her head.

'Were Izzy's lips always so nice?'

She was an okay worker. Not the best and not the worst. She did her assigned tasks with all the gusto of an underpaid researcher and analyst. Made sure to stay out of office drama, remember everybody's birthday, never date a coworker, and never say no to a superior.

Thanks to that, after a few years working as a junior analyst, her mediocrity was rewarded by a promotion to assistant senior analyst in one of the regional observation groups.

Unfortunately, that was when the good news ended, and the…fuckery began.

In the BF times (Before Fuckery, as she privately called it), she was rather hopeful, as the job didn't seem too hard. Just make sure to observe the players assigned to them, report any bugs, exploits, issues to the dev team, make sure everyone was having fun, the company was making money, and presto…she was done.

But no…

She had to be assigned to the one group that had to deal with the most annoying fucker in the world. Well, at least according to her boss. She didn't really care much after it was established that the Fucker didn't actually cheat.

Her vote was on him being an actual alien, though the medical tests disproved it, but she got great odds on it, so she maintained her bet. Hell, in her own time, she made sure to watch some of his fights. She couldn't play the game for real, so why not live vicariously through the best there was? At least the Fucker always ensured that what he was doing was interesting.

Plus, when he inevitably did something impressive, she wouldn't have to get caught up by the others when she arrived in the office. It didn't always work, but over the last few months, she saved herself from several hours of meetings and a bunch of her precious brain cells with this tactic.

Currently, she was on a coffee run.

Of course, their office – or crisis room, as some called it in the company – was equipped with three different coffee machines, two tea makers, and one just for hot cocoa. There were even rumors of a fourth one being requested…

But, Tom down in the cafeteria was cute, and she needed to stretch her legs anyway. Might as well mix pleasure with pleasure. It also helped that the cafeteria didn't smell like mental breakdown.

Holding her precious cup in one hand, she raised her card to the reader, then entered the code on the keyboard when the cover rose after her card was authenticated, then, with a small sigh, leaned closer and let her eye be scanned.

After everything let out a friendly beep and an obnoxious light turned green, she reached for the door handle, made sure her fingers were on the biometric readers, and pushed it down, finally entering the office.

It used to be that they only had to use their cards as they were deep in the bowels of the company, so any additional security was unnecessary, but her paranoid boss, in a fit of crazy, decided that it was possible that the Fucker was somehow sneaking into their office, so he had those extras added to the grumbling of the majority. There were rumors about infrared sensors and pressure plates, but nobody could confirm them…

As she was humming the newest earworm pop song, she closed the door behind herself and turned toward her desk, intending to drink her caffeinated beverage there before continuing the work.

However, before she could take one more step, her attention was drawn to a rather dramatic scene.

Her boss, and nominally, one of the leaders of the company, was on his knees, hands covering his face and loudly wailing while some people watched, some tried to get her to stop. Selene was naturally laughing, but she was already used to that.

Squinting slightly, she even saw some people in the back taking bets. Making eye contact with one of them, she flashed through a set of hand signs, waited for the man to nod in acceptance, before she returned her attention to the man on the ground.

After all, she had a bet to win…

"I was away for fifteen minutes, tops! What the hell happened, Selene?" she asked as she walked closer.

"It seems a certain individual managed to get an actual meeting with the king, and then proceeded to explain how a player-led faction worked to an NPC."

"Well, good for him, I suppose…why is he crying?" she commented while ignoring the theatrics.

"WHY? WHY, GOD, WHY? WHAT DID I DO TO YOU?"

Selene, equally unperturbed, continued. "Then, he proceeded to accept a mission that put him behind enemy lines to infiltrate one of the new fractures that the system made."

"System, huh?"

Selene nodded with a grin. "Yepp! The system! Anyway, he already found the secret realm hidden in it…"

"Oh… Well, that explains the wailing…" she muttered. Looking down at her precious coffee made by the hottie Tom, she contemplated for a moment, then shrugged. "Fuck it. We ball!" Then she chugged the whole thing in a few seconds.

After throwing the cup in the nearest trash bin, already overflowing with coffee cups, she stepped next to her boss.

"Come on, sir. Let's get up. Remember the last time? We don't want you getting the cold again, do we?" she asked as she slowly pulled him up. "How about we go and look at the pretty graphs and see if you can spot any cheating?"

The man stood up, sniffing slightly, wiped his face with the sleeve of his lab coat they were all forced to wear, even though they only worked with computers, and stood up.

"Fine. Maybe this time I can find something…"

"That's the spirit, sir!" she cheered him on, before glancing around with a meaningful look. Soon, the room was full of encouragement.

"Good luck, sir!"

"You can do it!"

"One hundred and twenty-third time is the charm, sir!"

She made eye contact with Selene's digital avatar, but the meddlesome AI just shook her head, causing her to let out a frustrated groan.

"Ugh, now I have to distract him with something else…" she grumbled under her breath.

"Did you say something?" her boss asked, looking back at her.

She gave him a big smile and motioned toward the giant screen dominating the walls.

"Nothing, sir! Let's go and find something to pin on that Fucker!"

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