It doesn't have to be him

Slayers Online (Region 1, Server 2), Hazimari Town, Westgate Pub--

The man behind the character wearing only starting gear takes a deep breath to calm his nerves and the setting impatience. His name is Rock.

Rock is not so old that he missed out on dawn of modern gaming culture. He simply missed out because of his upbringing.

He feels out of his depth and an unusual sense of indignity of having to ask his thirteen year-old son to help him navigate through this game world to come into contact with a person of interest who asked to meet here.

Rock cannot help but feel that it doesn't have to be done this way, and the simple fact is that it indeed doesn't.

And it doesn't have to be him doing this.

[Sorry for the wait

[It's all fine

[No one is hurt]

The other party went away for a short while, to check on the noise happening within the house.

"No problem. We have to take stuff like that seriously, just in case."

[About your proposal

[Let's make things simple

[I go along with what you want me to do

[I get paid as you said

[I don't care

[When something goes wrong, you guys will take responsibility

[Don't worry, I won't cause trouble

[You should know I play nice]

"I'll have to talk with some people first"

[Good

[Tell me when you're done

[You can set up the room for next time

[Just tell me where

[You know my condition

[Thanks for taking this seriously, by the way]

The man in sparkling armor named Catrovert logs out and disappears from the pub.

Rock sighs.

The boy doesn't lie and is quite easy to negotiate with. So, Rock doesn't understand why things has to be difficult in other ways.

Things that could have been done through email had to be done face-to-face in some online game.

Rock makes the necessary calls to accommodate the boy's demands.

It's not much of a surprise how quickly things got done. It's a point of pride in Redstar to be quick and decisive, and when one aspires to be ahead of the pack, it's all the more important.

Rock has a slightly different view of things. He will do what he set out to do, pouring in a normal amount of effort. He can be quick and decisive, sure. But he has lost his heart somewhere.

Rock doesn't think so, although something inside him believes it, that everything is going smoothly because nothing will matter in a few months.

So what if the venture is not successful?

Just do things asked of you because what else can anyone do?

Spend more time with family; to what purpose?

Rock has never been a sentimental person. He has been practicing his filial duties from childhood to the present. He has gone through the motion for his marriage and family.

Is his wife happy?

Is his son?

Rock doesn't care too much about the answer. He must have at some point, if he had done the things he did up to this point, but now he has lost himself.

Rock wrote a quick message to Luka Stormris to inform him that things have been put into order.

[What room?]

[Let's meet back in the pub again]

So they meet.

"Thanks for coming on a short notice. Do I just send you the contract via email?"

[That works]

So Rock sends the document via email.

It took longer than expected, but Luka sent back the signed contract with no amendments.

"I should remind you to keep a copy of this document"

[Sure, thanks for the reminder]

Rock cannot tell what tone the other person meant when he wrote that message. It annoyed him, but he told himself that he's reading too much into it.

[Is that all?]

"Yes. We will send you the reader within three days. It comes with instructions but you may consult our company if you encounter any difficulties. Then, after the first period of data collection, our company may request you to come on-site for more comprehensive testing."

[Got it

[I'll go now then

[You know how to contact me]

Catrovert logs out.

Rock wonders for a bit, in futility. He's not supposed to care but why does it annoy him, that there is some plot to involve this unimpressive young man in this grand historical event.

It's not envy that he feels.

He has expressed it in himself, how it offends him when unserious people get involved in serious matters.

In reality, of course, what will happen will happen. It does not care if it's silly or offensive or "wrong".

A common drunk's accident can spark a war of extermination.

If one distorts historical reading to a certain point.

Rock knows that this episode will be a footnote, and his name will probably not even be mentioned. Future people, if they will exist, will just have to imagine that there were processes involved in Luka Stormris's role in history facilitated by unnamed people.

"Pa, there's someone at the door"

Things keep on happening.

Rock looks at the front door monitor and sees a familiar stranger, who should be the guy who lives in the unit at the far end of the floor. Rock doesn't know him, in the very same way he doesn't know anyone he doesn't need to know.

"Help me, neighbor"

The stranger starts.

"I'm turning"

Rock knows more than the common people regarding the pandemic. He has never encountered anyone with a severe case of mania, or whatever it is, but that may just change. He recognizes symptoms the man shows as described in the literature.

"Take me out before I do something, brother"

The more significant evidence is that the man himself seems to think that he's losing himself. But can someone in this state have the clarity of mind?

Rock tells his son to stay somewhere safe and then to call his mother to inform her about what is happening.

"I'm coming out, stay back"

Rock doesn't know why he's doing this. It doesn't feel as empty as having to do his job today, but at the same time, it doesn't see the reason himself, but he had made the decision bypassing the rational process, and now, he's going out to face a possibly hostile, possibly armed stranger.

Rock holds a long paddle used for beating things clean.

"Brother, you're an idiot"

The stranger sounds like he's about to cry.

"I have a fucking gun here -- you should have stayed in your hole."

The stranger showed his weapon but did not point it towards Rock or used it to threaten him in an obvious manner.

Rock can't argue against that.

"Whatever, take the gun"

The stranger throws the gun over to Rock.

Rock cups his hands along the predicted trajectory of the throw but retracts them when he realizes that trying to grasp what could be a loaded firearm might not be a good idea. He could imagine hitting the trigger while the muzzle is pointed at something it shouldn't be.

The gun falls to the floor.

A small explosion rings across the hall.

A door across Rock opens. A man cautiously takes a peek at what's happening.

The stranger screams and lunges at Rock.

The two drop down to the floor. Rock doesn't remember the last time he hit his head into something this hard. The fall hurt him, but in his mind, he should have been knocked out.

"Pick it up!"

The stranger doesn't seem as pathetic as he did before.

The word demon is not divorced from a cultural understanding certain populations have. And yet, the seers all used the words that paints a uniform picture.

Rock didn't think of the matter too deeply, but he form his own opinion from what he heard.

He had imagined a with a criminal heart, people who don't care for the well-being of others, people who act not for the motive of obscene self-interest, but for the purpose of hurting others.

Rock had not imagined something that feels so alien.

"Shoot me or I'll bite your face off"

Self-destruction is considered unhealthy and abnormal, but it is unimpressive in the grand scheme.

Yet, Rock cannot recognize what he's looking at.

It feels deeper than Rock can see at the surface.

Rock feels hard teeth pushing against his forehead. He doesn't feel the warmth of the assailant's breath, or the wetness of his bite. He doesn't feel his skin breaking, or his blood flowing.

Tears well up in Rock's eyes.

Rock didn't heard the swing of the paddle that knocked the assailant away from his face, finally making the cut.

A woman, another unfamiliar stranger, seems to have taken action and started hitting the assailant with Rock's own paddle.

"Stop!"

A clear voice rang from the stairs.

The woman who was beating the assailant with the stick looks at the military personnel who finally arrived, assuming that this is indeed one of the people assigned to this building. She relents.

"Don't worry"

The uniformed man addresses her.

"I know what happened here. It's something worth a commendation, good citizen. Let us take care of the rest--"