Stupid Camper!

Roscoerama was surprisingly easy. It was like shooting fish in a barrel to somebody with a high-caliber eye augment like Val.

The moment she entered the arena, she was blessed with a sniper rifle. The gun was just lying on the ground in the middle of an abandoned construction site like an out of place ugly duckling.

The rifle itself was fine, but she wasn’t used to the attached scope blocking her peripherals, so, without a second thought, she bashed the gun onto a nearby wall and broke the sight extension off. And after taking note of the nearest vantage point, she climbed her way up a tall hill and took note of every living creature in sight.

Then she started blasting.

With nothing but a scopeless gun, she killed every player on the map with a hundred percent accuracy. She never missed once. While her Razen eye could predictably account for gravity as well as wind, she hadn’t known that it would further adjust its trajectory for erratic player movement. And because of this, the tournament that was predicted to go for an hour was over in twenty minutes.

Val had won by a long shot.

The rest of the tournament was spent on the awards ceremony for the top three winners. There were a number of skeptics in the crowd who doubted the legitimacy of her performance, but none could prove that she had cheated in any way. After all, cybernetic upgrades—also known as cyber-ups—were allowed in the rules.

She was handed a physical trophy—which was still simulated—for her win during the ceremony but not any of the promised prize money. When she had asked the event coordinators, they answered that the actual prize was apparently going to be mailed to her; they told her this awards ceremony was just for publicity.

She was also briefly interviewed, but she refrained from saying too much about her identity or anything for that matter because Coach had been waving from the back of the crowd since the beginning of the ceremony. She could tell just from his hand gestures that he was silently begging for her to end it quick. Still trying her best to stay somewhat courteous and respectful, she quickly squeezed out of the ceremony to meet up with him…

“C’mon, lass! What’re you doing giving out a speech? We’re going to be late!” He started running. “There’s not much time left.”

“For blackjack?” Val rushed to catch up. For someone who had made an excuse of having short legs, he sure was fast.

“No, I made a dinner reservation—yes, blackjack!” He started to sweat. “You think we’re running late for grub?”

“How much time?”

“Five”—he huffed—“minutes.”

“Five minutes?! I thought we had more time!”

“I never thought you’d”—he puffed—“win the entire tourney, lass! If it wasn’t for the awards ceremony, we wouldn’t be running around like this.”

“Wait, did you expect me to lose?”

He ignored her. “That way.” He pointed towards a scenic park.

“Are you seriously trying to enjoy nature right now?”

“Trust me. It’s a shortcut.” He started to slow down. “We should get there with time to spare.”

“What happened to teleporting?” she remarked. “Is that not a thing anymore?”

“That only works for private areas.”

That didn’t make sense to her. Some parts of Simular felt unrealistic and wildly innovative while other parts—specifically this walk—felt intensely primitive. Why, all of a sudden, was Simular trying to be realistic?

“This is it, Val,” Coach interrupted. “This is your thing.”

“It is? How?”

“Ah, don’t tell me you still don’t get it.” He pulled out a playing card and held it up for her to see. The symbols were faced away. “What number is it?”

“It’s not a number. That’s an ace.” She could see the backside of the card with her x-ray vision. But what did that have to do with… “Wait, are you telling me to cheat?”

“Finally. You get it now?”

“What? I don’t want to cheat!”

“For god’s sake. When did thieves care about cheating?”

“I’m not a thief. I’m a boxer.”

“You’re also not a professional blackjack player. We’re trying to make money to get you back into boxing, remember? There’s no time to be choosy.”

She sighed. It felt wrong, but Coach was right. She couldn’t afford to be picky. She needed money to get back into boxing, and she wasn’t going to give up now. Her professional career was still on the line.

“Over there! The one with the black roof!” He started to run a little faster.

The building Coach was referring to came in sight. It was oddly reminiscent of a castle. It had medieval features like those regularly spaced square roofs and cone-shaped towers. The bricks of the building walls stacked up like colorless toy blocks.

Aesthetically, she thought it was unique. And when they got to the front entrance, that thought became more apparent.

The gates were open, but she couldn’t see anything inside. Just pitch black. There were no lights, no shadows. Not even a floor. She leaned in a little closer to check if her eyes were playing tricks on her, but nothing changed. It was as dark as ink.

“Alright, lass. In you go!” Coach pushed her inside.

“W-what? Coach?” But when she turned around, the entrance was already gone. Coach was nowhere to be seen.

She couldn’t even see her fingers or tell which way was where. Shyly flailing her arms around, she tried to feel for any kind of physical object or wall. Anything for her to grasp onto.

There was nothing.

“Hello?” she called out. Why had Coach even pushed her in like that? When she got out, she was going to talk some sense into that man.

But then a ball of light suddenly flickered on. It lightly floated midair. Illuminated underneath it was a table—a blackjack table. And behind the table was a man dressed in a fancy tuxedo vest and bow tie. A golden flower pattern was intricately woven into his fabric.

“Please,” he called to her. “Sit down.” He elegantly motioned her towards the chair placed in front.

“Is… this the tournament?” she asked.

The man nodded.

“Are you the host of this place?”

He smiled. “I am but a simple dealer.” He pulled out a deck of cards and flung them into the air.

Val flinched. She had expected to be hit by a flurry of kings and queens… But nothing came. Instead, she was met with an unexpected sight—floating cards decorating the darkness above. They hung in the empty space, sparkling like bright stars.

She held her breath, worried they’d fall from the sky they were perched upon. But the cards continued to swirl softly in place, strangely reminiscent of a soundless lullaby. She could fall asleep just watching them fluttering so freely in the air.

A finger suddenly snapped, waking her from her dream.

As if time had reversed, the cards raced back into the man’s hand. They stacked up in perfect harmony. And once he fanned out the deck in front of her eyes, he called out with a mischievous smile—

“The tournament shall now commence.”