Chapter 9: Start-up

A dense crowd had gathered outside the towering structure of the town hall, their faces drawn with fear and desperation. The murmur of voices overlapped like a rising tide — frantic questions floated through the chaos:

“Where is the CEO?”
“What’s your plan?”
“Are we going to die here?”

General Rowen pushed forward with grim focus, flanked by a young woman — Marie — both of them struggling through the sea of anxious players. A few NPC guards and volunteers tried to keep the mob at bay, but the tension was mounting, becoming harder to contain with every step.

As they neared the stone steps of the hall, a player broke through the line and grabbed Marie’s arm. Her grip trembled.

“Please, tell us” she asked, eyes pleading, “is there any hope?”

Marie didn’t recoil. She looked her in the eye.

“There is,” she said simply.

Then she turned to the crowd and raised her arms.

“Please! Everyone, just a moment of silence!”

The shouting dimmed, desperation making the crowd obedient — for now.

“My grandfather and I are working day and night to find a solution,” she said. Her voice wavered slightly but held strong. “We’re asking you to be patient. And most importantly… don’t take matters into your own hands and by that I specifically mean, do not kill yourself. Go back to your houses, stay safe, and wait.”

A sharp voice called out from the throng: “We don’t have homes!”

The noise surged again, voices tumbling over one another, panic cracking through their restraint like ice breaking underfoot.

Marie didn’t try to calm them again. She turned and climbed the steps, disappearing through the doors behind General Rowen.

Inside the Town Hall – Later

The conference room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of a rock hanging at its center. Dust floated in the still air. The curtains were being drawn closed one by one, by Charles, a hardened soldier with a perpetual scowl. He moved with the methodical efficiency of a man trained to expect the worst.

Marie stood by the table, arms folded. Rowen paced. Another man — young, tense — hovered near the wall.

“The CEO of Clotech confirmed it,” Rowen said at last. “The headgear… it can kill us.”

The room stiffened. Charles stopped in mid-motion, turning sharply.

“When did you know of this, sir?” he asked, his voice edged with quiet accusation.

The weight of the question pressed into the silence. All eyes were on the general.

Rowen didn’t flinch. “After. Same as everyone else.”

A collective breath was released. Charles exhaled and sat down, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Everyone is now seated.

“If I’d known the risks,” Rowen added, “this world would never have been greenlit. Never.”

Marie leaned forward. “Then how do we proceed?”

Rowen’s tone shifted into command. “We’ll convene a meeting of warrior-class players. Marie, you’ll lead intelligence — your priority is locating the portal. Charles, you’re responsible for securing the key, and anything else we need for getting out. I and everyone else will continue providing tourist-class gamers aid.”

Charles glanced up. “The people are on edge. When do you think the outside world will intervene?”

Rowen paused. “I don’t know. But in here… we’ll do what we can, we fight with what we’ve got. I believe in each of you—”

He never finished the sentence.

A noise interrupted. A shuffle in the shadows.

Everyone went still. Marie’s hand dropped to her sword.

“If you love your life,” she said, voice sharp, “show yourself.”

A voice came from the far corner. Gentle. Female. Trembling.

“Please don’t attack.”

A young woman stepped forward, hands raised, it was Hiro. Her cloak was dusty. Her eyes were wide and wary.

“Who are you?” Marie asked, sword half-drawn.

“My name is Hiro. I’m a gamer. I’m sorry I interrupted your meeting… but I needed to speak with you.”

Rowen narrowed his eyes. “About what?”

Hiro hesitated. She looked around, taking in their faces, the military uniforms, the tension in the air.

“I was looking for an item… something to regenerate lost limbs. It’s for someone I know.”

Rowen raised his hand, stopping her. He’d heard the request too many times.

“How long have you been in this building?” he asked.

“Over a day.”

“And in this room?”

“Since before the meeting started.”

“Then you already know the answer. We’re just beginning. We don’t have anything like that — not yet.”

He motioned to the door. Hiro bowed her head.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, turning to leave.

“Wait,” Rowen said.

She stopped.

“Would you like to make yourself useful?”

Hiro blinked, surprised. “Yes.”

“Good. You’ll join Charles in his search. He’s gathering high-level items.”

Her eyes lit up. “Yes. Yes, I’d love to.”

Rowen gave her a nod. And with this single choice, Hiro stepped out of the shadows and into the fight.

**

The weapons shop looked like a shrine to violence, stacked from floor to roof weapons. Swords, halberds, gleaming tridents, cutlasses, idas, etcetera. Tayo’s eyes wandered across the glittering inventory until they landed on a sleek, bow.

He picked it up carefully, running his fingers along its string, then he carried it to the counter where the shop owner, a grizzled elf with half-lensed goggles, barely glanced at him.

“You’ve got good taste,” the owner said, voice flat and unimpressed. “But you can’t afford it.”

Tayo blinked from the implied insult or truthfulness of the shop owner. “Is that how you treat your customers?”

“The penniless aren’t customers,” the man replied without looking up. He continued on his task of polishing a blade.

Tayo set the bow down, his patience slipping. “Seems I need a refund—from the assholes that created you.”

The owner paused, finally raising his eyes to examine Tayo properly. A slight twitch of recognition crossed his face. “Ah. A gamer.”

Tayo didn’t confirm or deny it. The elf scoffed at Tayo.

“If you’re desperate, try the scavengers. You’ll find them past the workshops. Tell ’em Rollo sent you.”

Tayo left without another word.

Workshop District – Later

The forge clanged and hissed, metal striking metal, fire breathing life into iron. Tayo sat on a rock just outside the workshop, beside him is a dwarf with shoulders like anvils and a braided beard. Buck, as he asked to be called, was sharpening a dagger, its edge grinding against the whetstone.

Around them bustled a mix of races: dwarves, naturally, but also a few humans, some sharp-eyed elves bartering for armor, and even a hunched goblin sorting through a pile of scrap with surprising focus.

“We got there too late,” Buck said, voice rough as gravel. “The Kilobons raided it clean. Bastards didn’t leave so much as an arrowhead.”

Tayo sighed, already preparing to stand. Then Buck added, “But I’ve got something that might interest you. It comes at a price though.”

“I just told you I don’t have any money.”

Buck looked at him. “Didn’t say anything about coin. Just need someone who can run.”

Tayo frowned. “Run?”

“Aye. Fast. It’s a simple task. Do it right, and that bow you liked? I’ll see what I can dig up.”

Tayo leaned back slightly, watching the forge’s flames flicker in Buck’s eyes.

“Alright,” he said. “I’m listening.”

Remoni Outskirts – Forest – Day
Tayo ran through the forest in a blur of branches and snapping twigs. His body ached, but he didn’t dare stop. Behind him, crashing through the undergrowth with terrifying speed, came the LANBA.

It was monstrous, eight meters long. Its hide was a beautiful pattern of colours. It had six bulging eyes arranged across its head. Spikes jutted out from its back, basically its vertebrae piercing through its flesh. It screeched. It was a hideous sound that vibrated through the trees.

Tayo’s boots skidded in the dirt. He almost fell, as he burst out of the bush, and found himself at the edge of a short cliff. He didn’t hesitate. He leapt.

He hit the ground hard, rolling into a patch of grass. Behind him, the Lanba took the jump effortlessly, its massive body sailing through the air like a living missile.

Buck and the rest of the party released a volley of arrows, trying to slow the beast. They were far behind. They had made Tayo the bait, whether he liked it or not.

Tayo spotted Buck grinning like a lunatic as he fired another shot.
“That little bastard,” Tayo muttered in rage.

The Lanba lunged. Tayo dropped to the ground just in time, the creature's claws swiping past his head like a whisper of death. His heart hammered, fear and adrenaline surging within his veins. Despite all this, his body moved with precision, fluid and controlled.

“You’re going too fast!” Buck shouted through the trees.

“Screw you!” Tayo hollered back.

“Take it to the thicker bushes!”

Tayo veered towards a thicket, but something in his gut screamed no. The beast would slither through branches like a serpent. He’d be the one trapped. So, he changed direction, sprinting toward a clearing instead.

And then ahead is another cliff.

He saw it, but he didn’t slow down. His eyes widened. His mind alert, steeling himself to execute the crazy thought in his head.

He drew his knife.

And at full speed, Tayo lets himself fall to the ground. He stabbed the blade into the soil. Dirt sprayed up as he skidded toward the drop. Behind him, the Lanba lunged again, only this time, it miscalculated.

Its massive body launched into the air and kept going.

Tayo clung to the knife, his feet supporting him. He watched, as the beast tumbled off the cliff with a screech that echoed into the valley below.

For a moment, he didn’t move. Then slowly, with bleeding hands and aching limbs, he climbed to safety.