Class-A Threat (Disgardium Book #1) LitRPG Series Page 5

  "You're all off your rockers!" turned over and over in my head until the guards put me down. People here were behaving as if this was real life, not simply playing a character in a role-playing game. That rubbed me the wrong way...

  We made it a few blocks, then the guards brought me to an empty alley and pressed me against the wall. Senior guardsman Gale brought his face close to mine and, his boozy breath intermingled with meat and onions, loudly belched and whispered privately:

  "What say we come to an agreement without the judge? Three copper, one a piece, and you're free to go. Shake on it?"

  "I don't have any money, guardsman Gale."

  "What if you think about it?"

  "I could think all day, I have no money."

  "Not even one copper for us guys to blow of some steam after our shift?"

  "If I had a copper, I'd have given it to the girl, guardsman Gale."

  "Nether!"

  He angrily pounded his plate-armored glove on the wall and furrowed his brow, considering what he could squeeze out of me.

  "Well Gale, we gonna drag him to court?" one of them asked in dismay. "Maybe, well he..."

  "To the nether with him!" Gale gave his verdict. "Let's go, boys. And you, Scyth. Keep your head down in Tristad. We are now officially displeased with you!"

  Your reputation with the city of Tristad has been lowered by 5.

  Current reputation: mistrust.

  The guardsmen left, forgetting about me instantly. In their minds, they were already at a table with their friends, carousing and playing cards.

  I looked at my Tristad reputation progress bar. It was not yet hostile, but getting close. I couldn't allow myself to tumble that far, otherwise I’d never get back into the city.

  Alright, no big deal. I could do some social quests to restore my rep and even increase it to friendly. That would up my vendor discount, and give me a greater variety of missions. Overall it would just make living in Tristad more comfortable.

  With these thoughts in mind, I ran to the city council building before it closed. The entrance had a bulletin board hanging near it with current missions:

  Street sweeping. One full work day. Reward: 1 copper coin, 1 experience point.

  Mail delivery. Requires agility over 5. Full work day. Reward: 2 copper coins, 2 experience points.

  Weeding. Full work day. Requires Herbology level 1. Reward: 2 copper coins, 2 experience points.

  Guarding the border with Gloomwood. Full work day. Requires level over 10. Reward: a share of the loot, 10 silver coins, 30 experience points.

  All told I read a few dozen of the so-called "dailies," quests for the public good that were renewed once per day. But every ad had a stamp reading: "Mission unavailable. Come back tomorrow!"

  Alright then, made sense. Day was already turning to night, plus the number of vacancies was limited. You couldn't very well send a thousand people to weed a single garden. Weeds here were impossible to kill and grew back every day, but everything had reasonable limits.

  I couldn't get a daily today, but I could try my luck with Chief Councilman Whiteacre.

  I walked into the building. In a small cozy wood-floored hall with a huge chandelier, Whiteacre met me personally. He was pacing the hall with his hands folded behind his back but, when he saw me, he stopped and melted into a joyful smile:

  "Scyth! How glad I am to see you! Have you been enjoying your stay in Tristad?"

  His kindliness, no matter how false it seemed, pleased me for some reason. I understood he was an NPC controlled by artificial intelligence but, after seeing those guardsmen behave a bit too realistically, even that warmed me. Just some amicability.

  "It’s a great city with welcoming locals, Councilman Whiteacre. I like everything here!"

  "Wonderful!" he said, his joy still overflowing. "How can I help?"

  "I'd like to be of use to the city. Think you might have some missions for me?"

  "Of course, esteemed Scyth! We're always glad when our visitors want to help. So... Let me think..." he raised a pointer finger. "I have an extremely important assignment for you!"

  "I'll do everything I possibly can!" I stood at attention, because usually he didn’t say the words "extremely important" and just got straight to business giving the quest. "What needs to be done, Councilman Whiteacre?"

  He tossed a skeptical gaze over me.

  "Hm... You see, this is a very delicate assignment. I don't even know if I can ask you..."

  "Of course you can! I'll do it as fast as possible. And of course, this stays between us."

  "Okay then..." he nodded, his mind made up. "Go to the pastry shop Piping Hot. You’ll find it on Bakers’ Street. Do you know where that is?"

  "I do, councilman."

  "Excellent!" he said, rubbing his hands together. "Go there and tell Mrs. Grossman that tonight is canceled due to... unforeseen complications on the right flank."

  "And?" I didn't see a quest window, and I was surprised. Maybe this was the introductory part of some unique chain? "Will that be all?"

  "Yes, esteemed Scyth. That is all. Will you do it? Do you remember what to do?"

  "Mrs. Grossman, Piping Hot. Tonight is cancelled in view of unforeseen complications on the right flank. I'll run right there, Councilman Whiteacre!"

  I flew like a bullet straight to Bakers Street. I knew exactly where the pastry shop was. I had taken a walk there with Eve a few times. I carefully doubled around passersby so I wouldn't land myself in more trouble, and I ran to the shop just as my energy bar hit zero. But my deadline was in five minutes.

  The store was empty. The sweet-looking stately Mrs. Grossman heard me out with a stony expression on her face and nodded in silence. I shuffled my feet, expecting a response of some kind, but she just went back to placing today’s unpurchased pastries into a large sack.

  "I'm sorry... Mrs. Grossman?"

  "Yes? Is that all?"

  "Yes, I told you everything word for word."

  "Then what do you need? Wanna buy some fresh pastries?"

  "Uh... No, I just wanted to ask if maybe you have some requests for me? Maybe you’d like me to send a message back to the Chief Councilman?"

  "No, nothing. Although..." a shadow ran over her forehead. "Tell him something must be done about the right flank. It can't go on like this. Alright, go. You're getting in the way."

  There it was! I'd see how Whiteacre reacted! My energy was back, so I ran all the way back as well.

  "Something must be done?" he clarified when I brought Mrs. Grossman's answer. "Alright. Thanks, Scyth!"

  The councilman smiled coyly and, whistling, headed into his office. What? No experience? To the nether with this quest chain, it didn't even give me one meagre copper. And that was fine, but not even one experience point?

  "Councilman Whiteacre! Wait!"

  "Yes?" he turned around, his feet tapping in impatience. "What do you want, Scyth?"

  I took in some air and exhaled slowly. Okay, sure. Business as usual in an online game. I wasted ten minutes, no big deal. Now I needed a quest I could complete with this character.

  "Maybe you have some more missions for me?"

  "Oh, Scyth, what a pity!" he threw up his arms. "All missions for today have already been given out, come back tomorrow and I'll think up something for you."

  "I'll definitely be back tomorrow, Councilman Whiteacre, thank you. But still... maybe you've got something more interesting than street sweeping or delivering mail?"

  It was as if the smile was glued to his face, but his eyes had stopped smiling. He studied me with his gaze. An indistinct thought flickered in his eyes.

  "Something more interesting?"

  "Yes. Less boring."

  "Less boring? I see. I'm afraid I have to explain that cleaning communal areas and timely postal delivery are very important to our city. There are many things in this life that are vital to society, but could never be called interesting. You see, work is not supposed to be fun. Fun, generally, is not
something people get paid for. Visitors do a service to our city by taking on these, as you put it, boring tasks. And the city repays them with respect and welcoming. But if newcomers turn up their noses at fundamental tasks, the very things which make Tristad an attractive city with a comfortable lifestyle, that means... That means those visitors have no place in Tristad. The city cannot entrust important functions to visitors such as you, Scyth."

  "Excuse me?"

  "I’m afraid I have to turn you away. The city will no longer hire you for daily social tasks. No matter what. At least as long as I have any say here."

  Your reputation with the city of Tristad has been lowered by 5.

  Current reputation: mistrust.

  He turned away, letting me know that I could go. My reputation took another step closer to hostile. But even worse, this was the only place in my whole sandbox where a player of my level could get a quest. I needed to turn this around!

  "Councilman Whiteacre!"

  "We're done here," he answered, not turning around.

  "Sorry, my bad! I misspoke! It’s just that... I couldn't wait to start doing good for the city, and all the public works have been finished for today..."

  "What?" seemingly I had piqued his interest, and although he wasn't smiling, he had stopped walking and turned toward me.

  "Maybe I could still be of use to the city? I'd really like that!"

  "Alright then..." he bared his teeth again, but the smile was much sincerer than before. "Alright! I understand that for a young person such as yourself, it can be hard sometimes to formulate your thoughts properly..." seemingly he was mocking me and had just called me an idiot.

  "Sorry, you're right. I really do have a hard time with that," I played up to him. "Making the words out of letters, and the words into sentences..."

  "Enough clowning around," the councilman cut me off midsentence. "The Temple of Nergal the Radiant. The crypt. Something is happening down there. Something bad. See what it is and take care of it!"

  And with his last words, a mission window popped open.

  Chief Councilman of Tristad Peter Whiteacre would like you to figure out what is stirring up trouble in the crypt of the Temple of Nergal the Radiant and take care of it.

  Reward: 1 silver coin, 100 experience points.

  Recommended minimum level: 5.

  Penalty for refusing mission: reputation with the city of Tristad lowered to hostile.

  Now he really was having fun with me. I turned from the mission to the councilman, trying to gauge if the expression of confusion on my face looked authentic enough.

  "You're still here? Go and prove your worth to the city, Scyth!"

  Oh nether, he wasn't joking! I accepted the quest, and Whiteacre nodded.

  "How much time do I have?" I asked, fitfully thinking the only option was to level up on mobs using the club I thankfully just got then go into the crypt, even if it was in a month or two.

  "You've got plenty of time," he answered favorably. "More than enough! I expect results by tomorrow, end of the work day. Off you go!"

  Off I go? I had been given the send-off so many times today that I didn't know how I would go on.

  Chapter Six. A Curse and a Blessing

  ON THE WAY from the city council to the temple, I ran into Eve. She had left the tavern in a new novice’s dress and was looking around. As soon as I saw her, I noticed a flickering chat notification: "I’m on. Where are you?" And I remembered I'd left her a message.

  "Hi, Alex! My mom wanted help picking out new furniture, we just left the VR store. I came straight here when I saw your message. What happened? Why are you back on Dis?"

  I briefly told her about my parents and their upcoming divorce, but she couldn't comprehend the gravity of the situation. Not to waste time, I kept walking to the temple as we spoke.

  "And you're just giving up on your dream so easily? After all, this isn’t that bad. Their status will be lower after divorce, but that's all temporary. They'll have it all back by their next attestation, then they can pay for your studies!"

  "It isn't that easy, Eve..."

  "And why not?"

  "Well, they work best together. Their weak sides are covered by the other one's strong suit. Dad has awesome ideas, but he can’t get them off the ground without mom's love of minutiae. And it’s that way with a lot of things, which means they’ll never get their status back on their own."

  "So why don't they just keep working together?"

  "Their work would be evaluated independently because they have stopped being a family. Those are corporate categories..."

  "Then why are they getting a divorce?" Eve exclaimed.

  "Who can say?" I swallowed a lump in my throat, feeling tears start to well up. "I guess they just reached a point where it was harder to live together than work apart."

  "And now you think there's no way out except this stupid game?" she exclaimed. "God, tell me you're joking! This is a joke, right?"

  "I don't have any other ideas. I don't know how else to pay for my studies. To be honest, I still have no idea how I'm gonna live without my parents’ support... That is, I understand that when I get my citizenship, I'll have to make it on my own anyway because of the law... But I’ve got a long time before I’m twenty-one!"

  "That law about mandatory independence for adult citizens? Greg just told us about that yesterday..."

  "I beg sincerest apologies!" came a ringing voice, interrupting Eve.

  Our path was blocked by the city beggar Patrick. The NPC or bot as nonplayer characters were called, was controlled by artificial intelligence. His age was hard to tell, but his level was relatively high at twenty-five. That was higher than the city guards, for example.

  "I wish you the greatest of evenings, young man and woman!" he said, removing his tattered and holy hat.

  "Good evening to you too, Patrick," we answered.

  "Allow me to make an inquiry, if I may. You wouldn't happen to have an extra copper to lend some color to a drab evening, eh?"

  We shook our heads, and Eve answered:

  "Sorry Patrick, we don't have any money."

  "Are you sure? What about you?" he asked his bulging eyes staring at me morosely. "Dig deep, little one! I know you can find a little copper for old uncle Patrick!"

  While his eyes bored inhospitably into me, I remembered how hard Snowstorm had fought to keep physical cash in their world. Players demanded they simplify game currency, but the corporation balked and now we were forced to haul coins around everywhere. Good that they at least didn’t limit the number of coins you could have in your inventory.

  "We have no money, Patrick! All the best!" I bid him adieu fairly sharply, because he was a bothersome character and if he sensed a lack of confidence, he'd just keep pushing.

  "Alright then, it's deplorable to know that visitors to this city couldn't even dig up one pitiful copper for an honorary citizen of Tristad!" He spat at our feet.

  "More like honorary town drunk," tore itself out of me.

  "What did you just say, fleabag?" he furrowed his brow and walked forward, looming over me. "Do you have any idea who you're talking to?"

  "A pitiful boozer, a beggar?"

  Patrick took in a full chest of air, pursed his lips to say something but then... just waved a hand. And only when Eve and I exchanged glances, surprised at his behavior, did I realize:

  "Curse you, you wee bastard! May your soul never know peace, just like my poor dry throat!"

  After his farewell, Patrick spat out a few curse words with some spittle and walked away. What an unpleasant mob! I was just trying to have a chat, but Patrick was only polite and affable to those willing to part with a coin. And idiot that I am, I gave him my last one ages ago. My reputation didn't change, I didn't get a quest. Ten minutes later I met him again and he trotted out the same old "spare a copper" song and dance as if I hadn’t just helped him out.

  "Where are going?" Eve asked, leading a gaze over Patrick.

  "The
Chief Councilman gave me a mission to inspect the temple crypt. I need to finish before tomorrow evening."

  "Can I come?"

  "Of course, but it's dangerous. It's a quest for level-five and up, which means it's not exactly going to be a walk in the park. It might hurt!"

  "Bad?" Eve winced.