“Look, we have to talk for a minute.” Jimmy was uncharacteristically serious.

  Nodding, Kurt met his friend’s intense gaze. “What’s up?”

  Jimmy squinted at him for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “This game isn’t like that fantasy stuff we played as kids.” He paused for effect. “We are not heroes. Not that we ever were, but really not heroes here. There is gonna come a moment where you’ll get a little tickle in the back of your head. You’ll wonder what would happen if you just . . . did something. Something bad, probably. What we would normally think of as bad, anyway.” Jimmy stopped and looked out the windshield for a moment. “When that moment comes, do yourself a huge favor and find out.” Kurt wondered for a moment if his friend was joking, but Jimmy seemed to be past his strange moment. “So what now? Your turn. I’m down for pretty much anything, as long as it pays.” He casually reloaded his SMG again, the empty magazine falling to dust as it landed on the floor of the car.

  “Uhh . . . I dunno. What can we do?” Kurt frowned. He hadn’t thought this far ahead.

  Jimmy started counting on his fingers. “We can knock over a corner store, hit an armored car, rob a bank, go hunting players. A lot of the stuff is actually kind of hard, but it’s all pretty fun, and even if you fail you typically get rep. Just don’t get taken alive — getting busted sucks.”

  Kurt scowled at his friend. “How?”

  “So the cops take all your gear, you get nothing back except your starter gun and clothes. They impound your, excuse me, my car, which is a pain to get back. Plus you take a pretty major rep hit. It’s all about the rep in this game, so you want to avoid getting taken alive. Only chumps and tiny baby nooblets do that, anyway. Go down fighting, it’s way more fun. You get respawned at your safehouse, but since you don’t have one yet, I added you to mine.” He folded his SMG back into its holster position and slid it into his shorts pocket. “Let’s go.” With that, he opened the door and stepped out, stretching.

  Popping open the driver’s side door, Kurt followed him out onto the street. “Your car okay there?”

  Jimmy turned around, walking backwards as he looked. “Yeah man, it’s fine. Once the game detects you leaving, it’s just recalled to the garage system. We can always just call for it. I got a guy for that.” He spread his arms out wide in a shrug. “An NPC guy, but still. It’s a free service when you get your rep up enough in a faction.”

  As they walked towards the main road, Kurt had time to take in the city. They were in what his mini-map identified as ‘The Downtown Cluster.’ The buildings were made of brick, concrete, and glass, stretching high above their heads. There were people everywhere, and Kurt quickly discovered something unsettling.

  “Hey Jimmy, how do you tell who’s a player and who’s just an NPC?” He messed with his wrist device as he walked, searching the scan menu for options.

  “Ha! That’s part of the charm, my friend. You can’t. Not in any official way, anyhow. If you see a chump walking around looking at his wrist like you right now it’s a dead giveaway, but otherwise you have to rely on your wits.” He gave his friend an amused glance as Kurt hurriedly swiped his phone away. “But really, you’ll get used to it and start to know. The NPCs are a little predictable sometimes. So are the players.”

  Scanning the streets, Kurt noticed a young man walking towards them with his wrist in front of his face. He tapped at it a couple of times before swiping it away and continuing towards them. Kurt reached slowly for his gun, but the young man raised his arms and plastered an amused expression onto his face.

  “Don’t shoot, I’m friendly. I also have nothing on me worth taking. All my cash is clean.” He raised the suit jacket he was wearing to show them. A familiar revolver was all that he had tucked away. Kurt eased the hammer of his gun back down and let it rest in his holster.

  “Go away.” Jimmy brushed past, one hand in his pocket.

  “Wait, let’s at least talk to the guy. Maybe he knows something cool to do.” Kurt extended his hand. “Kurt. Nice to meet you.”

  The young man looked shocked for a moment. He quickly recovered. “Griff. Very nice to meet you, Kurt.” He enthusiastically shook Kurt’s hand, using both of his own. “It’s just really cool to meet you. And thanks for not shooting me, that part sucks.”

  Jimmy walked over and broke up the handshake, slapping downward on the awkward physical engagement. “Don’t talk to this guy, he’s a grifter. He’s a grifter named Griff. Get lost, grifter, or your dreams of not being shot will get popped. As will you. Get popped, that is.” He paused for a moment, looking between Kurt and Griff. “I will shoot you, is that part clear?”

  Kurt frowned. “He’s not doing anything. Just let me talk to him.”

  Jimmy threw his arms up in defeat and walked a few feet away. He kept his hand in the pocket that held his folded down SMG while watching them.

  “Thank you, Kurt. Really, thank you again.” Griff ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I represent a guild of sorts in this game. We help inexperienced players with startup gear, consumables, advice, even contacts for quests and other guilds.” He gestured with his hands as he spoke.

  “So . . . you do recruiting?” Kurt asked the question already assuming what the pitch would be.

  “Outreach, but yeah, pretty much. The guild is Pyramid International. We have a good system. When you first join up, the guild provides everything you need to run quests and takes a small cut of your earnings to make sure we can keep helping new players and keep growing. Then as you help recruit new players, the cut the guild takes goes down. Or you can always just find a new guild if you want. I personally enjoy helping new players, so I stick around.” The young man gave him a hopeful smile as he finished his pitch.

  Jimmy pushed off the wall and drew his SMG, starting to fold the magazine into position. “Right, I’m shooting him.”

  Kurt stepped between them and raised his arms. “Hang on, man, I could really use this.” He nodded towards the wall and they turned away from Griff for a moment. Poking Jimmy in the ribs, Kurt engaged an old signal for subterfuge from their fantasy game days. Kurt spoke low, but in a voice loud enough to be heard by their hopeful scammer. “I really don’t know what I’m doing yet, and this guild sounds like a sweet deal.”

  Playing his role perfectly, Jimmy scowled at him and turned back to the wall, shaking his head with pursed lips. “Do whatever, man. Your game.”

  Turning back to Griff, he smiled disarmingly. “Sorry. Just sorting some stuff out.” As Griff nodded empathetically, he continued. “So, I’m new, as you gathered. Started today, and I just got my first skill ranks, but haven’t made any money yet. Is there a sign-up fee?”

  Griff pulled a face. “I mean, yeah. Two thousand bugsy gets you in the door, but you’ll be making bank in no time with all the help you get.”

  Kurt pretended to think about it for a moment. “Well . . . I don’t even have a thousand yet.” He turned to Jimmy. “Would you spot me?”

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  The glare that reached him informed him of Jimmy’s annoyance, but his friend answered anyway. “No.”

  Turning back to Griff, Kurt smiled again. “Pyramid International, right? I’ll be sure to look you guys up when I make some money.” He turned to leave.

  Griff stepped in front of him, arms raised in a ‘hold on’ motion. “Tell you what, my friend. You have to pay the guild directly to join, but I’m happy as a clam to front you the bugsy. Actually, getting a recruit will shave five percent off my share with the big guys, so we both win out.

  Kurt stepped back, making an unsure face. “I wouldn’t want to be a leech or anything . . .”

  Practically grinning, Griff messed with his phone for a moment. Kurt was sure to act surprised when a notification of fund transfer showed up on his own. “Two thousand bugsy sent. That’ll get you in, just make sure you tell them in the application that it was me who recruited you.” Griff made a finger-guns motion at Kurt and clicked his tongue. “Tell you what — I’ll throw in a bonus.” He started messing with his phone again, swiping until he found what he was looking for. A simple tap and he leaned his wrist towards Kurt’s. When they touched wrists, a location pinged on Kurt’s map. “That is a contact bar. It’s like the game’s version of a quest hub. Consider it a signing bonus.”

  Then the moment happened.

  Kurt narrowed his eyes for an instant, feeling the sensation Jimmy had warned him about. “Thanks a lot Griff.” He turned to face Jimmy and gave him a knowing smile. “Oh hey, Griff?” The young man looked back up at him, an inquisitive expression already in place. Kurt raised his Beretta. “You shouldn’t try to scam people.” His finger clenched and the gun kicked in his hand, a flare of yellow flame and a puff of cordite replaced Griff’s face in front of him.

  Multiple notifications pinged from his wrist as Jimmy howled with laughter. They started running down a side street while NPCs around them panicked and scattered. They cut through the alley and ran across the following intersection, turning to avoid the red and blue dots heading their way on the map.

  Kurt turned in a quick circle, his wrist in front of him. “Um . . . this way!” Leading Jimmy into a nearby apartment building, he ran up a few flights of stairs and then sat down on a hallway windowsill, overlooking the main street.

  Jimmy was still laughing when he caught up. “Dude, that was amazing. That was your first kill, too!” He gave Kurt a wide eyed look. “That is an amazing first kill. On a player, no less. That’s gotta be mad XP. What’d you get?”

  Kurt swiped off his map as the heat bars faded away. He pulled up his notifications as Jimmy peered out the window.

  Primary

  Liar Rank 2 (Interaction)

  “Liars need to have good memories.” Algernon Sidney

  Dishonesty is a core concept in the criminal world. Any dishonest interaction receives a 2% bonus to succeed when interacting with NPCs. This skill will also occasionally help cover up mistakes (stammers, misplaced words, hesitation markers, etc.) in dishonest interactions with other players.

  Primary

  Perception Rank 1 (Interaction)

  “It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.” Henry David Thoreau - 1817-1862

  Noticing that which is not always obvious is a critical survival skill. Certain objects of use may become “focused” or pinged to the map. NPC interactions may also become more overt to the player. Chances of both benefit occurrences increase with rank.

  Primary

  Small Arms Rank 1 (Combat)

  “Oh c’mon. Guns don’t kill people . . . but they sure do help.” Shoot ‘Em Up - 2007

  Skilled use of basic firearms can assist in several tasks. Maximum damage with all firearms increased by 1%.

  Secondary

  Underhanded Rank 1 (Interaction)

  “I love listening to lies when I know the truth.” Unknown

  Guided deception can profit those capable of outwitting their peers. Any cash or reputation rewards gained through use of deception offer a 5% chance for a bonus reward. Increases dishonest interaction success rate by 1%. Currently stacking with Liar rank 2. Total bonus increased to 3%.

  Specialist

  Obfuscation Rank 1 (Interaction)

  “Oh! What a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.” Sir Walter Scott - 1808

  Deceptions involving multiple victims, using multiple veins of mistruth, are complex to wield but profit those capable. This isn’t just a lie, it’s bordering on politics. Adds a modifier to Liar and Underhanded skills, increasing each of their bonuses by a factor of 2. Total bonus success rate for applicable dishonest interactions increased by 6%. Total additional reward chance for dishonest interactions increased by 10%

  “I got a specialist skill. Obfuscation?” Kurt frowned at the skill display. “It must have unlocked because I lied about needing a guild while I was lying about needing the loan? Ohhh, it’s a multiplier … that’s actually kind of overpowered.”

  With a yawn, Jimmy checked his own phone, scrolling through his skills to check their progress. “Naw, man, that kind of stuff is super specific. Only comes into play if you keep lying, basically. Seems like you can build a class around that though, which is pretty cool.”

  Turning his head, Kurt looked at his friend. “What class are you?”

  Jimmy’s shoulders rocked once with amusement. He reached into a pocket and produced a thin, black stone box. As he extended his hand toward Kurt, the box clicked open and a card stood up on a metal stand. “I’m Muscle. It’s a combat-heavy thing, second level class. I’ve been working on a specific specialist upgrade for almost two years with no luck. This game is complicated.” Kurt plucked the card and looked at it.

  Muscle

  JimJam

  “JimJam?” Kurt glanced up. “Care to explain, JimJam?” He suppressed the urge to snicker as Jimmy snatched the card back from him.

  “Not particularly, scrote.” Jimmy scowled at the card before tucking it back into the holder. “Actually, I forgot about that. You don’t really use the cards for much, just contact info mostly. If you give one to a player, it adds you to their contact list.”

  Standing, Kurt moved towards the stairwell. “We should check that quest hub out.”

  Shaking his head with a sigh, Jimmy moved to follow him. “Don’t say ‘quest’, dude. It’s like missions or runs or jobs. Also, I should point out that is the first place Griff is going to be looking for you.”

  “And we can’t handle him?” Kurt gave his friend a knowing smile.

  “Shut up.” Jimmy followed along willingly enough but pulled a face when he saw their location.

  Dusty red brick made up the wall front, grimy with rain and uncompromised age. People stood in a line in front of the building, leading up to a hulking man in a suit jacket, who wore sunglasses in spite of the encroaching dusk. Expensive-looking cars were lined up in the street out front, and a nearby alleyway hinted at horrors to behold with a wafting smell of hot garbage.

  Jimmy protested. “No way, man. These places are impossible to get into. You have to somehow talk your way past the doorman, or just wait in line for like an hour.”

  After standing in the street for a moment looking at the doorman, Kurt smiled. “Don’t worry. I have a plan. Here’s what we do.” They conferred for a moment and Jimmy laughed while shaking his head when Kurt finished explaining the plan. They went across the street to a strip mall and Kurt spent some of his ill-gotten gains on a new suit. After a few moments of browsing, he chose an understated dark grey suit with a light blue-checkered dress shirt and a tie that matched the jacket and pants perfectly. He added a pair of inexpensive, black-framed sunglasses. Jimmy entered a dressing room and came out wearing a simple black suit with a white shirt and red tie — just the first thing he had grabbed upon entering the store.

  Frowning, he turned in a circle in front of the mirror. “I don’t like this plan.”

  Kurt nodded and smiled. Noticing, with some satisfaction, that his hidden holster had transferred to the new suit pants, he fastened the bottom button on his jacket and walked across the street.

  Approaching the doorman, Kurt went to simply walk past him into the club. The doorman immediately stuck out an arm and grabbed Kurt, blocking his path. As Kurt recoiled from the arm with disgust, Jimmy stepped up to do his part.

  “Hands off the client.” Jimmy said, with as much authority as he could muster while trying to suppress a giggle. He stepped between the doorman and Kurt, moving the doorman’s arm away gently.

  The doorman looked surprised but immediately relented. “My apologies, sir. Names?”

  Kurt sighed dramatically, looking at his fingernails. Jimmy stepped a little closer, leaning in and glancing at the line. “This is Mr. Kurtis. We’re expected.”

  Flipping his single piece of paper over and back, the doorman began to appear nervous. He re-read the list and then looked up at first Kurt, then Jimmy with anxiety. “Look, my list is obviously not updated. Go ahead in, and I’ll have a word with my coordinator.”

  Jimmy slapped him jovially on the back. “You got it, big man.” He glanced between the door and the doorman expectantly.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Please, enjoy your visit.” The doorman stepped forward and lowered his head respectfully as he held open the door for them. Kurt sniffed as he walked past, an offended look plastered on his features. Jimmy had a tough time stifling his laughter.