“I’m telling you, man, there might be more to this game than the typical fantasy setup.”

  James sat at the table with his roommates, fork suspended halfway to his mouth with a sausage speared between the tongs. He wasn’t sure why, but he’d spent the better part of an hour explaining his first day in the game to them, and also enumerating the benefits he thought the game could hold.

  “I thought you said you were PKed right out the gate near the starting village,” Rupert replied, frowning at him over his cup of coffee. “We’re competitive gamers, but sometimes PVP is just set up wrong.”

  “I wasn’t actually killed,” James said, not for the first time. “I managed to escape. But the fighting is so different. It’s… it’s like you have to move the sword yourself.”

  That piqued Rachel’s interest. From where she stood at the stove, she spoke up, joining the conversation for the first time. “What does that mean?”

  “There’s no skills or fighting styles that you get,” James said, turning to look behind him at her. “You’re given a weapon, and you have to use it like you would in real life. If you want combos or maneuvers, you have to do them yourself.”

  “Damn,” she said, looking impressed in spite of the small frown on her face. “Pure swordfighting. There can’t be that many people who are good at that.”

  “Well, one of the people I met was. He used a staff, but he took down five people in seconds. He didn’t even break a sweat.”

  Silence fell over the table then, as the others thought about what James had told them. They’d all been invited to join the game known as ‘Project Terra’ several days ago, as part of the so-called second wave. Only James had logged in so far, doing two different trial sessions. It was their way. As competitive gamers who made a living in the sport, they were very selective about what games they played. Each new game presented to them would be tried out, after one of them - whoever lost in a dueling game of choice - was to be the guinea pig. So far, James’ reports on the game had been… unappealing.

  His first session, he’d been set upon by enemy players and killed just half an hour away from the starting village. This had happened twice, each time resulting in his death and loss of all the items he’d carried, not to mention ten percent of the meager money he’d managed to earn. He was furious, and tempted to give up on it then and there. But he’d given it one more go the previous day, and his tune had changed up completely. Now he was trying to make a case as to why they should dedicate some actual time to it.

  “No matter which option you choose, combat is all about being creative. If you hold a sword, you can swing it, but you’re far from an expert. Unlike in MMOs, you’re going to have to put in some effort to get good at swinging that sword. Now swap out sword with literally any weapon, even your own fists! And there you have it. Nice and simple, right? Just like real life, and you love it, right? Well, I hope your answer was yes, otherwise, you’ll find the combat system in Project Terra quite troubling.”

  Richard read the passage directly out of the Project Terra Handbook, the only documentation that seemed available for the game. There wasn’t even a website to explain more about the game. It seemed that, if they wanted to know more, they had to actually play. That being said, one of the more famous content creators in the gaming world had already released some introductory videos on the subject, as well as an audio-only conversation between him and his friend, discussing nearly everything they’d learned in the game so far.

  “If you can’t do it, you can’t do it,” James said, nodding slightly.

  The others looked at him incredulously, but it was Rachel that actually asked what he was talking about. “It’s something one of the friendly players in the game said to me. It didn’t make sense at first, but after I talked to some more people, one of them explained it to me. Project Terra is a realistic game. You have to know how to do something for it to have any real effect. The better you are at fighting in real life, the better in the game. But if you can’t fight, you can’t fight.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “I get it,” Jordan replied. He’d been the last to speak up. “It’s like real life. You have to learn.”

  “Right,” James said. “Well, Richard and Rachel are both martial artists.”

  “Used to be,” Rachel said. “We haven’t done that in years.”

  “But you remember what you learned, and you could use that knowledge. Richard, you actually learned how to fight with a sword, didn’t you?”

  Richard nodded. “Technically a katana, but it’s more or less the same thing.”

  “Right. And we’ve all spent so much time playing as a squad that we know each other’s tactics perfectly. Hell, we know tactics better than damn near anyone else.”

  He could tell that he’d gotten their interest, even that they were starting to feel tempted. But they didn’t look completely convinced just yet. Of course, he’d expected this. Games like Project Terra took dozens, hundreds, even thousands of hours of time to fully commit to. Career gamers like them wouldn’t sink in that time unless they felt sure it was worth their time. So, he offered them another, more powerful temptation.

  “I heard something else from the village players,” he said, glancing between Jordan and Richard. “They say that the best guild in the game is starting an army to deal with the PKers. They offer training, sponsor dungeon runs and raids, and help you learn whatever you need to succeed in the game.”

  “Why wouldn’t the game just have a tutorial for that?” Jordan asked. He set his coffee cup down with a sigh. “We don’t want to waste time training.”

  “But we do!” James said. He knew he was just guessing, but he was certain that they’d be more interested if they knew what he was getting at. “Think about it. This is the most hardcore, hyper-realistic fantasy game to exist. And as far as I can tell, there’s only one group of people that really know what they’re doing. And they’re offering to teach us. For free.”

  Richard snorted in derision at that. “Big whoop. That just means we’d be among the first-”

  “We’d be actual Pathfinders,” Jordan put in. James could tell by the light in his eyes that he’d finally gotten it. “If we picked it up fast, we’d be in a position to dominate the game.”

  James leaned back in his chair then, setting his fork down, the sausage - and the rest of his breakfast - forgotten. He was smiling widely now, studying the quick glances that his roommates and friends were throwing at each other. They understood it now. They were career gamers. They literally made their living by trying to be the best there was. And one critical factor of the job was being a leader in games. If they weren’t the best, they had to be one of the first to do new things. And this was a chance to do both.

  “So here’s the deal,” he said, sitting forward again. “You guys have to try the game with me. Just long enough for us to take on our first raid. One week.”

  “I’d think it’d take us longer than a week to get that sort of thing done,” Jordan said. “Especially in a hardcore game like this one.”

  James didn’t reply to that. Instead, he continued on with his original train of thought. Pointing a thumb over his shoulder at Rachel, he said, “Rach here is one of the best fighters in games we’ve played. She even knows some martial arts herself. Same with you, Richard. But also, we’ve got Jordan. The tactical genius who has actually created entire new plays and tactics for games? I’m good with strategy, but my real interest is in the economy.”

  That was certainly true. Outside of the games they played to earn money, James was constantly logged into games that featured life skills, trading, and making money. He even played older games that weren’t available in the virtual format, using an actual keyboard and mouse. He was the only one of them who could type on a physical keyboard with any level of accuracy or speed. And there wasn’t a single game in which he hadn’t quickly mastered the economic system and risen to the top of the leaderboards.

  Jordan hummed thoughtfully, staring down at his empty coffee mug. James didn’t say anything to break the silence. Any more, and it would just sound like pestering or begging. He knew he had them. He just had to wait for them to realize and admit it as well. Not surprisingly, it was Rachel who finally spoke the words. She was, after all, the most senior member of their group, and the official leader.

  “Alright James,” she said. “We’ll give it a shot.”