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Bathed and 70 credits more in debt (20 went to a quick laundry service that pressed and cleaned her clothes by the time she was out of the shower), she was ready to quest. Luckily, anything considered part of the basic category (the step below common) could be purchased on credit. Though she wondered how many people would forgo the basics when their life was on the line.
She pulled up her character sheet and considered dumping all her points into Luck. Normally, she wouldn’t waste the points on something that didn’t have an immediate benefit to her battle prowess. Even though some of the games she usually played encouraged other stats by adding social and puzzle components to the game, it didn’t matter how good she was at smoothing over a situation or hacking a computer if she couldn’t survive combat.
However, something was calling her toward Luck. She had found an uncommon item on her first mission, and a legendary one on her second. Items could easily make up the difference in stats, in addition to the fact that Luck played a role in natural ability growth. According to Terry, she had gotten a point in Ambition and Creativity from her last two quests, because of a lucky roll for ability growth when the rewards were being doled out.
Otherwise, raising one’s ability points could be done by either leveling up or training. Packing herself into a gym and lifting weights could raise that Ambition score, but so could swinging a sword over and over during quests. There was a benefit to be gained either way, whether the game was measuring her physical improvements with a numerical value or if swinging a sword enough times made her not totally suck at it. Since training cost money, and questing would give her credits, she’d quest, even if it was the riskier option.
If a person used a stat during a quest, they got a chance to gain a point organically, and that growth was based on Luck. She was already 2 stat points ahead of other equivalent Level players, and if she continued gaining stat points like she had in the last two missions, she would surpass them all rather quickly. However, there was also the risk that she was betting her entire strategy, not to mention her life, on winning the lottery again and again.
There was also part of her that was wondering if organic stat growth was just the game measuring a person’s natural abilities, so a person who was naturally strong would get more Ambition points during a quest because the game was just error-correcting for who they were. Conversely, a person might lose Ambition for failing rolls, as the game’s way of saying “Whoops, this person isn’t very strong at all, and I’m going to bump it down a few points.”
Whether or not the stats were just a numerical assessment of her natural ability, or they were something that could legitimately alter her reality, she wasn’t sure. However, in game terms, having a high Luck might mean all her other stats could raise, too, and if the past outcome of what Luck could do for her was any indicator of future performance, then Luck was the way to go.
Points for the simulated reality, Maxi thought to herself, dumped all her stat points in Luck, and hovered over the “submit” button.
“You’re wasting your points, you know,” Farhad said. He was running a towel through his hair, attempting to dry it.
Maxi minimized the window and swiveled in her chair to face Farhad. He was back in a clean yellow shirt and khakis. However, the clothes didn’t do much to hide his form. He was fit and his muscles were toned. With the five o’clock shadow and the long brown hair, he was definitely a looker. Had this been a coffee shop, she would have considered asking him for his digits. However, for all she knew, he was the creep mastermind of this place hiding in plain sight, only to reveal himself after she sawed her own leg off.
She elected for a more neutral response. “Why would you say that?”
“It’s simple math,” Farhad said. “Luck only modifies rolls with low probability of success. Whereas Ambition will get you extra damage, each hit and Dedication gets you more life. Bonuses you’ll use every time.”
“If I play a tank,” Maxi responded. “I usually prefer more versatile characters.”
“Still, even Psychic and Cyber Classes need Creativity and Adaptability to deal damage. You are only as good as your ability to survive combat. Speaking of Class, have you decided yours yet? I can help you distribute points accordingly.”
“Not yet,” Maxi answered. “I’m still deciding.”
Maxi had placed her phone on a ledge in the shower where she could talk with Terry while she washed the gunk out. She had learned a lot of the basics of her “employment,” such as choosing a Class before reaching character Level 20. The first time a person picked a Class, it was free, so long as they met the prerequisites in stats and, in some cases, passed the trial. After the first Class, there was a credit cost, which told her people didn’t change or dual Class very often.
Each Class had about a paragraph description and the one that had intrigued her the most was the Paranormal Investigator. If she could read between the lines, she guessed it was a striker that excelled in both mind and melee attacks. The recommended stats were Ambition and Creativity, her two best stats outside of luck. There was an asterisk next to the Class, indicating she hadn’t completed all the requirements yet, but that was true for most of them.
Hacker seemed like her second choice, as they excelled in cyber warfare and social engineering skills, but the recommended stats were Adaptability and Emotional Intelligence. While the idea of sitting in her office joining combat remotely and convincing other people to do her dirty work sounded fun, her Adaptability was shit because of her unwitting Level loss, and Emotional Intelligence seemed about as useful as Luck in the sense that while doing well in social situations might be well and good, if she had to fight, it wouldn’t do anything for her.
At least with the Paranormal Investigator Class, she’d have stats that would help her in combat and a way to survive the trap rooms if her interpretation about what Creativity would do for her was accurate. In addition, by playing a striker, having a high Luck would help her score more crits. There was nothing worse than wasting a crit on a weak attack.
“You should probably even them out until you decide,” Farhad said. “Most of the prerequisite skills require a 20 in one stat or another, so you’ll need to even them out eventually. Except for Luck. Very few skills need that stat. Besides, at 15 Luck, you are far luckier than most players.”
He wandered back to his cubicle, leaving her to level her character. She could have gotten a 15 in both Ambition or Creativity, which would push her to the bonus threshold in that she’d get an extra +1 each 5 Levels to her ability checks, damage, etc. But there was something calling to her about Luck. Perhaps she was being foolish—gambling was a no-win scenario.
Winning a lot of money in a casino didn’t guarantee future earnings. Roulette, craps, slot machines, even some of the more skill-oriented games like Blackjack were losing situations if a person stayed long enough. Her father, who had spent entirely too much time in casinos, was proof of that. He had lost everything—her college fund, his retirement account, even his wedding ring from gambling.
The sad part was that he had even known what he was doing. She remembered when he had stopped at a slot machine during a layover at the Vegas airport. He had won a couple hundred dollars, and told her as he printed the cash-out ticket, “You got to stop when you are ahead. Walk away or the house always wins.”
She wasn’t sure if she was like her father, offering to sell his watch to other players because he had a few early wins before the house took everything. However, there was no denying that dumping everything in Luck could yield rewards even if it was merely unlocking some advantages on her legendary yellow shirt.
Against all gaming wisdom, she was about to put all 6 points in Luck. At the last moment, she put one in Ambition and the rest in Luck, bringing her Luck to 20 and Ambition to 12. If her luck ran out on the next mission, then she’d stick with the traditional path, and boost the Paranormal Investigator stats.
She went to skills next and considered purchasing melee weapons for 10 points. A -10 penalty to combat meant she was violating the cardinal rule—being unable to survive combat made everything else useless. However, the same logic of organic stat growth applied. If she learned melee combat on a quest, it would be like having another 10 extra skill points.
She looked through the skills of a lower point cost and settled on Customer Service and Investigate. Both were only 4 points to purchase. She figured Investigate was a trap room necessity, and while social skills were a low priority for her, she remembered the recommendation about NPCs being assholes. If she was going to quest her way out of this, it would help with NPC interactions. She boosted her current skills with the remaining points and pulled up her character sheet.
A few new things had appeared since she had last looked at it. Certain aspects of the game would only unlock and appear on her character sheet when she acquired the item or the skill to have it. For example, she hadn’t seen an Armor Rating until she equipped her first set of armor.
Name: Office Maxi
Gender: Female
Ethnicity: Other
Office Pool: Lus3rs (Cumulative Tier 11.5)
Level: 3
Tier: 11.3
Stats:
Ambition: 12
Adaptability: 8
Dedication: 10
Speed: 10
Creativity: 13
Emotional Intelligence: 10
Luck: 20
Life: 16/16
AR: 5
Att: +3 Longsword (5-7 damage)
––––––––
SKILLS:
Customer Service +2
Investigate +2
Listen +4
Sneak +6
Credits: -768
Satisfied, she pulled up the quest “PRINTER OF NEVER JAMMING PART I” and glanced over the quest details one last time.
GOAL: Will be revealed on acceptance of quest.
TIME LIMIT: 3 hours.
ALLY LIMIT: 1.
REWARD: Credits and items based on Level.
FAILURE: Termination of employment.
After looking through “more information” about the Ally Limit, she revealed she could invite members of her Office Pool up to the limit, but they would share the experience and rewards. Since her true goal was to get the hell out of this place, she didn’t mind sharing.
“Farhad,” she called over the cubicle walls, “want to do an ongoing quest with me?”
He gave her a thumbs up. He was the obvious choice currently. Yancy didn’t seem like the fighting type and was probably trying to work his way out of the bottom Tiers, and she didn’t know if the others liked her yet. At least Farhad had spoken with her in words that weren’t hostile or condescending. He also had a gun.
Considering this was her best option for getting out of debt, she shrugged, clicked the button, and selected Farhad as her ally. An email appeared in her company inbox with an urgent request to proceed to Jambles Marketing, Twelfth Floor, where a meeting was being disrupted by printer issues. Farhad must have received the same message, because he opened a locker he must have bought for his cubicle and pulled out a gleaming sword. He attached it to his belt, along with some other items.
She grabbed her equipment, and they went to the door that opened to the elevator. “No gun?” she questioned as they went inside. When she had picked him, she had hoped to get some ranged support.
“Bullets cost money, and credits are in short supply right now,” he said.
At least he wasn’t blaming the incident on her like the others. Though he was complicit in her charge against the raid boss. She pressed the button and said, “Jambles Marketing, Twelfth Floor.”
The door closed, and they were on their way. While they traveled, she took a better look at Farhad’s sword. It was a cutlass.
“Pirate sword?” she asked.
“I liked the Pirates of the Caribbean movies growing up,” he said.
“No beads in your hair?”
“I did go as Johnny Depp for Halloween once.”
She tried to imagine him with dreads, beads, and coins woven into his hair and giggled.
“What?” he asked, cracking a smile.
“Oh, it’s just you’re so clean cut. I mean, you must spend a lot of time just on your hair,” she noted. His hair did have a luxurious shine that should have been on shampoo commercials.
“You just have to take care of long hair,” he said, as the door dinged and opened.
They drew their swords immediately, as the office before them was a mess. There were papers and office equipment strewn on the floor. Cubicles were knocked over and some were shredded as if a beast had torn through the place. Most of the lights were out except for a few fluorescents that flickered with a buzzing noise.
They crept out of the elevator and didn’t see any evidence of people. There weren’t bodies or anything, just blood spatters, but unlike the tutorial room that looked like any empty call center, this place looked like people worked here. There were family photos spattered with blood, and a half-eaten noodle dish sat on the floor. There were trinkets, decorations, and all the stuff one would expect from an office.
They saw a room in the distance with light showing under the door and decided to scope it out. Luckily, Farhad was familiar with hand signals that were used in the Army. Her father had been a vet and had taught her the hand signals when she was a young girl before he had gambled his life away.
No wonder she liked Farhad. Whether because he had military experience or he was an Army brat like herself, she felt a connection to him. She just hoped she wasn’t going to end up in a hole, waiting for him to skin her alive for a lady suit.
They crept forward, avoiding debris that would make too much noise. She seriously doubted whatever made this mess was gone. If it was a beast, then it might be sleeping it off after chowing down on NPCs. They passed a cubicle that had a “Congratulations Gladys on 30 Years!” with a picture of a woman her mom’s age in the center. Judging from the blood covering the display, she doubted Gladys would get any more years, or even retirement, at this point.
They approached the room with the light on. She heard a sound similar to that of a printer making copies in an endless loop with the familiar beep of an error code. She glanced at Farhad, and he nodded. They readied their weapons, and she opened the door.
Inside was a creature munching on the corpse of a middle manager, but it wasn’t quite what she expected.