Bob, FarShot and ShadowRunner continued their trek into the tunnels of the Yellow Zone. Where the city had been clean and tidy, the tunnels here were grungy and littered with trash. Every so often they’d catch glimpses of mutant roaches scattering at their approach, each one as long as a human forearm. FarShot hugged her rifle, a 5mm Gauss like the one Bob had practiced with in the simulator, but with a tube on top where the one he’d used had the small crystal pane. It had been too expensive for him to purchase, so he’d ended up purchasing a Basic .223 Semi-Auto Rifle which he had yet to test out. ShadowRunner was equipped with two pistols.

As Bob watched ShadowRunner swing them about, looking for threats, he got the distinct feeling that he had been using them entirely wrong in the combat simulator. ShadowRunner held the pistols straight out, where Where Bob had been aiming them from his waist, more or less, with his elbows tucked into his sides.

“Alright, Bob, last time FarShot and I were here, we got attacked only a little bit further in than this. So, yeah. Keep your eyes open. Dying kinda sucks.”

Bob was intrigued. “What’s it like? Dying in game?”

“It’s painful,” FarShot answered. “Then once you come back, you feel like you have a terrible hangover for the next hour, and when you move around it just feels… off. It’s kind of shitty. You get a stat penalty for an hour after you revive. We both just logged out until the death penalty was over.”

“Yep. Then we ran into you just a few minutes after logging back in.” ShadowRunner added.

“Well, let’s try to avoid that this time,” Bob said, though now he was truly curious. He’d not had much occasion to feel pain in his life, much less a hangover. It would take month’s worth of production output from a single large brewery to get a dragon drunk for a single night. He only knew this bit of trivia due to an old and long dead friend, Aureloden, who had been known among the mortals at the time as the Drunkard Dragon, and had extorted multiple kingdoms for alcoholic tribute before he was killed by a mercenary army.

As they continued through the tunnels, more and more side passages began to open up, and from them they could hear skittering sounds and distant hisses and squeaks.

“Man, I’m glad this place is well lit, because if it wasn’t it would be creeping me out way worse than it already is,” ShadowRunner said.

“It still makes my skin crawl, knowing those sounds are from giant bugs, those huge rat things, or Theron knows what else,” his sister replied.

“Well, if anything comes, I’ll toss down a shield. That should cut off about half of the corridor. Then we can just focus on killing them.”

“Yeah, I suppose that makes sense,” said FarShot. Her brother grunted in agreement.

A few minutes later, ShadowRunner held up his hand. “I think I hear something approaching, ahead and left.” He pointed to a side passage some fifty feet ahead.

“Right, let’s get ready,” Bob said. He deployed a shield to block off the left side of the tunnel. The shield, once deployed, spread out into a solid wall of dark, lustrous material that came up almost to Bob’s chin. He then deployed a turret along the right hand wall, choosing the buckshot option. He still hadn’t looked up what the two options meant, but the idea of shooting shell-less molluscs at a target seemed rather ridiculous. They would probably just splatter everywhere without causing any damage, so he intuited that the term must have another meaning in this world which the translation enchantment was failing to capture. Not that the concept of buckshot made any more sense. It just didn’t sound as… gooey. The turret, which looked like an armored eighteen inch tall egg when inactive, sprouted legs of blackened metal to stabilize itself, and the tapered top of it split open as a cluster of lenses arrayed around a barrel popped out, and began to sweep over the area.

Bob and FarShot stood back, while ShadowRunner crouched against the right wall, and faced the gap between the shield and the left wall.

A skittering sound began to grow louder, accompanied by an odd, hissing bark. Dozens of dog-sized hairless rats with six legs and green skin poured out of the tunnel ShadowRunner had pointed out, and charged toward the threesome. Some tried to scrambled over the dark and glossy material of the shield, but none of their six limbs could gain purchase on the unnaturally slick surface. As soon as the critters rounded the shield, Bob’s turret began firing, a steady *THUNK* every second and a half, sometimes seeming to hit multiple mutant rats with a single shot. Bob himself was focused on aiming and firing with his rifle as the over-sized and garishly colored rodents rounded the edge of the shield. Not much skill was needed here, as he just needed to point the weapon in the direction of the wave of rodent flesh and he was practically guaranteed to hit something. ShadowRunner was firing his pistols with wild abandon while his sister was carefully selecting and dispatching her targets.

Together, they managed to eliminate the swarm of mutant rats, leaving a pile of quivering flesh, pools of blood and scraps of hide.

Bob received that notification as the flood of enemies slowed to a trickle, then he received another series of notifications.

“Aw, shit yea. I leveled up How about you two?” ShadowRunner was ecstatic, pumping his pistol-filled fists into the air.

“Same here,” confirmed Bob. “Got an Ability Point and a Skill Point.”

“So did I,” confirmed FarShot. “I’m putting my skill point into Long Rifles. Haven’t really looked at the ability tree yet.”

“Good idea,” her brother agreed. “I’m putting mine in Pistols.”

Bob didn’t immediately answer, as he was looking at his ability tree. He had two initial options, Durable Constructs and Improved Link. They were the first two among twenty one total options. Durable Constructs increased the resilience of any mechanical object he had built or was the last one to repair. Improved Link improved the grade for his link by one stage. Looking at the abilities that would be unlocked later, he chose Improved Link, since he could then take Additional Channel as his next ability. Between the two abilities, he’d be able to throw out two turrets of a higher grade than what he currently had.

As for his Skill Point, he put it into Power Management, as the skill was intended to optimize the power consumption of the equipment he used, allowing him to stretch his power supply further.

“Ugh, can we get moving? This spot reeks of blood and burning. It didn’t really hit me till just now, but this stench is abyssal,” FarShot complained.

“Agreed. Sometimes this game is a little too real for me.”

Bob shrugged. “Alright, let’s keep going.” He deactivated the turret, which reverted to its armored egg form, and stuck it back in his inventory, then deactivated the shield. He marveled at the way the seemingly solid surface flowed away, revealing dull gray plates that retracted and folded in on each other until it was a small box of solid material. A truly fascinating piece of equipment. Bob wondered how the creators of the game came up with all this ‘technology’ that pervaded this world. He stowed the portable shield in his inventory, and replaced his mostly spent magazine with a fresh one, a tip he’d read about in the WIK.

The weapons of this world were fascinating. Bob idly wondered if he could create a facsimile of them to give out as loot in his dungeon. The idea was worth considering. Perhaps the new weapons would inspire the adventurers to become better. Doubtful, but worth trying.

They continued walking, leaving a trail of red footprints behind them for a ways, following their Nav screen directions toward the appropriate area for their requests.

“You know, Bob, that turret of yours is way too good. I think it got half the kills back there, maybe more,” said ShadowRunner.

“Yeah, I kept having to adjust my aim because it killed my target just as I was lining up a shot,” FarShot added.

“I think that’s because I was using the ‘buckshot’ option. I didn’t really know what that was, so I looked it up just now using the WIK. Buckshot fires a bunch of small pellets which spread out as they travel. The other option, slug, apparently fires a single, solid projectile that is much heavier than a typical firearm round. Heh, I chose buckshot because I thought it would be shooting actual slugs at them otherwise. But it seems it was quite effective against that little swarm. There is so much to learn about this game world. It is rather fascinating.”

ShadowRunner grinned. “No kidding. Aside from the quest NPCs, this place feels so real. But I suppose they had to drop the ball somewhere, no way they could make something so rich and complex without messing up somewhere. I bet they’re making gold hand over fist with these games.”

“Whatever Bard they had on staff to weave the stories of this place was definitely not paid nearly enough. This place is a wonder,” FarShot added.

Lost in thought for a moment, Bob unintentionally mumbled his inner thoughts. “I wonder if I can contract their story teller. I’m sure I can outbid their current employer.”

The siblings stopped and stared at him.

“Can you?” FarShot asked.

Shit, I didn’t mean to say that aloud, Bob thought. Scrambling, he tried to pull himself out of the hole he’d just dug with a series of half-truths. “I make a lot of gold while I’m in Deep Thousand. More than most. Not as much lately, but I still have generous reserves on hand. After all, no mortal artisan can produce the same items with the same quality consistently. Although I do not encounter any danger I cannot handle, I still turn a tidy profit.”

He was new at spinning webs of half-truths and deceit, but the siblings were not particularly world-wise, and so they implicitly accepted his explanation.

“That’s awesome. I’ve heard about people who farm the dungeon for equipment, but it sounds like you’ve got it down to an art. Ha, maybe if we introduce you to Dad, he’ll try to foist my sis off on you.”

Revulsion churned in his stomach at the very thought, and he fought to keep that off his face. “I doubt she’d like that. I’m no youngster. I can guarantee with certainty that I am older than your own father. Besides, I’m not comfortable with intimacy outside of my species.”

FarShot laughed. “I knew it, you’re an elf, aren’t you? Your comment earlier about life being too long was a dead giveaway.”

Bob shrugged and held out his hands, neither confirming nor denying, allowing the mortal girl to indulge in whatever delusions she had.

“I knew it! You know, brother, if we somehow managed to get him to help us out, I bet we could force Father to retire as the head of the family. Just imagine what pressure he’d be under if we secured a trade deal with an elven adventurer that farms Deep Thousand.”

ShadowRunner grew somber as she spoke. “We can’t foist our family problems off on some guy we just met, that is not the right way.”

“I know.” FarShot lowered her head.

Bob held his tongue. He didn’t actually care about their petty mortal dramas over who the sister would breed with or familial succession. Really, they should just take his earlier advice and kill their patriarch if he was that much of a nuisance. However, to further chide them probably wasn’t something a human would do. Instead, he redirected the conversation.

“So, what abilities did you guys take? I took one that improves my link, so I can deploy a better turret.”

“I took an ability that highlights enemy weak points. The other option was Steady Breathing, which I still don’t really understand. It’s supposed to eliminate breathing induced movement,” FarShot answered.

“I took one that lets my intruder-link interfere with enemy IFF. So it should make some enemies have a harder time targeting me, I guess? I picked it because the abilities further along that tree sound really good, but there’s a lot of terminology I don’t really understand.”

“There is a lot to learn. I think there is a lot of depth to this world that we’ve barely touched on.”

The trio continued walking through the tunnels, talking quietly about the abilities available to their classes.