The Newbie Monster Killing Grounds. The Sanctuary of The Floppy-Eared Rabbits.

Although the sun had set, the game’s three moons reflected enough light to make the world roughly as bright as a day during a thunderstorm.

Here, the dimmed light shone upon one of the few green areas in Suchi. In contrast to the dry plains that dominated this region's landscape, this Rabbit Sanctuary, along with the rest of the Monster-Killing Grounds, had a flourishing forest ecosystem. Firefly swarms were parted by swooping birds. Willow trees wet their locks in a criss-cross of streams diverted from the Suchi River which nourished the grounds.

It might've made for an idyllic scene if not for the players sprinting around murdering rabbits.

To enter, trainees had to cross a series of streams via long bridges made of earth. At the entranceway to one, a group of children with their parents in one tutorial group had paused and gathered around a player in his 80s, wisened by the decades of life, virtual and real. On the old man's wrist, there was a bracelet made of fangs procured from the lions that roamed the savanna. Propped beside him was a war-bow taller than a grown person, the wood of its limbs tinged the vibrant green of malachite and its string taught with the memories of countless arrows fired into countless beasts. On his forehead was tied a bandana with the markings of one of Suchi's Villages.

This veteran Bowman stood before the rabbit grounds and turned to the class with pride. “Children, what you see before you is but one gem that we plucked from the soils of Suchi. Before we go any further, settle down, please, and listen to the song of our people."

The students gathered around him, seating themselves on the grass and empty beer crates.

"Some accuse this barren land of being a miser," began the veteran. "Others, like myself, thank it daily for being so generous.

“From day one, this division of opinion was present right at that moment we logged on to the servers and found ourselves standing in The Slums, looking jealously upon the barred gates of Central City." He spoke those last words with an unrepressed hatred. "Adventurers in other parts of this game were received with the treatment of heroes. Here, not so much. All quests were refused to us, all doors slammed in our faces, all pleas for a morsel to eat denied.

"In comparison to the stingy residents, the surrounding lands were even less welcoming. To the west was a stream, more of a trickle. Each day, its waters would be dyed red with blood as we contested for a few mouthfuls of drink."

One of the children interrupted, pointing out that what lay to the west was a river, the Suchi river that irrigated this Rabbit Sanctuary.

“Don’t be smart, Finnegan,” replied the veteran. “I'll get to that in time. To the south, we had the sea, whose salty waters seemed to taunt us as we suffered in the relentless heat - much hotter than what you’re experiencing now. It was dryer then, Finnegan. Everywhere else, there was nothing, none of the fertile bounty you're observing now. There were no berry bushes for food, no trees for the construction of houses or the making of bows.

“Some adventurers seeking to escape the emptiness ranged further in-land, or around the coasts. Those who were not torn asunder by vicious packs of Lions, Grey Hyenas, Goblybeasts, or the Gutdevourers that stalk the night, these brave men returned with stories of cities and towns much the same, each with their own closed-gates. Everywhere we went, we were rejected.

“On the local community forum, a post appeared." The veteran coughed, before putting on a dweeby nerd void. "‘Suchi is pure trash. It is a sadistic theatre for the Dev’s amusement. Delete your character immediately and pick somewhere else!’" He coughed again. "This, many agreed, was the logical, obvious choice. And so our numbers dwindled.

“But of course, not all us chose the logical, obvious choice. Some of us were challenge-seekers, others lateral-thinkers, who saw the great opportunities that others could not. Some, like myself, were both. We all agreed, however, that this land would not so easily eject us from her womb.”

One of the children’s mothers frowned at the metaphor. This old guy, a grandfather of one kid, had been speaking a bit too crassly since they'd logged on for this playdate. Weren’t old people supposed to be kind and gentle? She felt like they were being led by a psychotic mugger.

The Suchi veteran raised a fist of resolve, his fang-bracelet rattling. "We would not allow the barren womb of Suchi to kill and devour us, her unloved, malnourished stillborns! If she would not give us her milk, then we would eat from the sea. If she would not provide trees for boats and rods, then we would hunt for materials and make them ourselves. If she would not provide any animals that we were capable of getting safely within twenty metres of, then we would attack from a distance. If she still would not provide trees for bows, then we would throw rocks. If she would not provide rocks, then we would make rocks by soaking clumps of clay with sea-water and baking them in the sun. If, after a long day of pellet-making, she did not provide residents who were willing to welcome us into the safety of their walls, then we would join the rejected residents of The Slums and build—“

A little girl tugged the old man's sleeve. “Grandpa, you’re ranting again.”

“Sorry, dear," the veteran apologised, a burning glimmer calming in his maddening gaze. "The point is, kids, that we struggled.

“One such struggler, a mythical figure whose name is now etched in the annals of Suchi, TejbirChopra25, one of the most glorious cold-blooded murderers to arise from South Asia...”

Another parent did a double-take, unsure whether he'd correctly heard this old guy praise a murder.

The veteran thrust a finger north. "That beautiful murderer weaved his way through the maze of beasts to venture hundreds of miles north to a mountain range. There he discovered a slumbering demon. It was as tall as twenty Rongbitan Red Whales stacked on top of each other. It had antlers the size of a Heimlandian Bluewood. A normal adventurer would have snuck away from this fierce devil, but TejbirChopra25 wasn’t a normal adventurer—he was a man of Suchi! He thrust the fang of a baby lion into that sleeping demon’s eyeball, and when out of rage the beast oneshot him, he posted a call to arms on the local forum." The veteran coughed, before putting on an offensively-bad Indian accent. “'Men of Suchi,’ – children, this was not a sexist comment. The female players didn’t like living in huts. They were gone." The old man shook his head mournfully. “Yes, the gorgeous women, they were all gone...”

His granddaughter tugged his sleeve again.

“Right!" The veteran snapped out of those sad memories. "Where was I? Yes, that little Indian man posted something." He coughed, to put the accent back on. "'Men of Suchi! A demon sleeps in our midst! We must defeat him!’

"And as we did in those days, and have always done since, all the men of Suchi responded in kind. 'Where? Show me the bastard who needs his throat sliced!’ 'I’m sharpening my lion fang!’ 'Me too, I’m sharpening my lion fang!’ 'I’m going to stab that big cunt in the neck.’ A thousand such bold cries of support rang across the forums. Kids, you've got to know that the men of Suchi are always ready to face a challenge. Unlike lesser men, we’ve never been encumbered by attachment to material possessions or this fickle thing we call life."

The old man began to randomly yell. "We marched! We fought! We bled! We died! Under-levelled and ill-equipped as we were, each of our attacks bounced harmlessly off the demon's mighty hide! But what we lacked in strength we made up for with tenacity and raw numbers! The demon’s health regen? The men of Suchi are plucked from all corners of the world, and that demon wasn’t Out of Combat for a moment during that multi-week assault! The health of our armour? What armour! Weapons? A standard baby lion has four canines! And the rare-spawn Many-Toothed Baby Lion...well...” With a proud grin, he raised his bracelet, twelve juvenile fangs shimmering in the moonlight. “In the end, the demon, giving a roar that made the earth shake, collapsed into his final rest. Afterwards, while we were partying in the mountains, relishing a succulent feast of the demon's remains, not wasting any of his organs—we roasted his twelve livers, we stir-fried all thousand feet of his intestines, we brewed wine with the sweet juices of his eyeballs—”

“Grandpa...”

“Suddenly the crack of thunder sounded above us, and the sky opened up! Yes, children, in the mountains of this parched land, it began to rain! And it continued to rain. It turns out that demon, ol’ Farg of the Drought Curse, was partly responsible for the sorry state of the land - who could have known? Back at Suchi City, the tiny trickle to the west started to swell with the waters fed to it from those mountains, allowing it to regain its former glory as..." The old man was going to say roaring river, but he didn’t want to set a bad example for the kids by lying; Suchi was still dry and uninhabitable. “...river. The Suchi River! Nourished by the holy waters of The Suchi River, the nearby lands were cleansed of their sickness, and this forest by the river bank arose, given a bit of extra moisture from our blood, sweat, and tears. The greenish foliage around you is proof, a monument to the spirit of rebellion! It shows what can be accomplished when a man refuses to take the logical, obvious choice! When he rebels against his thankless fate! When he struggles!

“Since then, we men, and also women," he added for his granddaughter, whom he was hoping would continue the gang tradition, "have continued to rebel and struggle. In response to our stubbornness, this stubborn land has prospered. The perfumed citizens of the Central City have opened up their gates in false hope of stealing our talents. Our little Slum on the outskirts, which we've continued to work on, has blossomed into what it is today, The Slum Empire of Suchi. Of The People! Those magnificent Achievement Pillars to the east, these fairly-tall trees defying them to west, each was raised to defy the sky by a person of Suchi, one who has also refused to take the simpler path!

“Before we go further now and feed ourselves on the riches sown through rebellion and struggle, I’ll say a final word about this land: it may not provide much, but what it does provide more than makes up for what it doesn’t. If you are made of the stubborn stuff needed to be a person of Suchi, this land will give you all you need.”

Neglecting to list anything tangible that the land actually provides, the old man finished his speech and cast his gaze on the forest before him, on the youths running around smashing cute rabbits with clubs and skewering them with spears. In the depths of his eyes could be seen a fond remembrance for his own bloody beginnings in this harsh, unrelenting hellscape.

Another tutorial group entering the Rabbit Sanctuary had paused to listen, looking like a gang of bandits about to ransack their first caravan. Their clothes were smeared and tattered. Each of them gripped their spears, swords, bows, axes, clubs, and hammers tight with the anticipation of putting these tools of death to their first use.

Amongst these bandits was Henry, as imposing as the rest, a steel kettle hat atop his monkey mask, a leather cuirass over his robes. In the depths of his eyes, as he'd listened to this degenerate geriatric Villager's ramblings, could be seen a different glimmer, one of exhaustion.

“'Challenge seekers and lateral-thinkers',” Henry muttered to himself, “more like masochists and fucking idiots.”

Only a senile idiot could describe the tragically awful beginning of this garbage region so affectionately.

Any veteran player like Henry would know the real story. The reality, as revealed by the developers in a late apology to the 92% of Suchi starters who'd deleted their characters, was that the drought demon and the hostility of the locals were part of the region’s unique opening event. The NPCs trainers assumed, at first, that the players were working with the monster. A quest chain resolving the issue would have opened up only after enough players had earned the trainers' trust by enduring the unfair treatment for roughly 8 real-life hours.

That's how it should have gone, but before the required time could elapse, a bunch of frustrated Suchi hooligans had organised themselves into mobs and begun killing all the trainers out of revenge.

By the time the replacement NPCs arrived a few real-life days later, the few insane remainees had fixed in their minds that this region was about independent survival. The murder mobs had become permanent gangs operating parallel to the official game system. From then on, as could be seen earlier at the spawn point, all new players starting in Suchi were harassed by thugs looking to bolster their gang numbers.

In this way, the opening of the Suchi region, designed to take less than a day, dragged on for about two months.

Two years later, these obstinate gangs were still refusing to work with the locals of the Central City who'd rejected them on opening day, they were still hanging out in The Slums, they were still brainwashing new players—they were still doing everything the hard way.

It had to be emphasised that Henry's guild was in the business of socio-economic development. He knew for a fact that the local gang culture had resulted in the average level of Suchi being 11 levels behind the rest of the world. Taking into account that the average level in Saana wasn't very high, only around 70, the players of Suchi were missing out on a huge chunk of the game's primary content.

But, whatever, none of Suchi's lore mattered. Any sensible person would take all those worthless factoids and purge them from their brain. Don't waste your precious neurons storing irrelevant information.

Henry's sole mission and focus in this place was the duelling tournament. Right now, while speed-running this brief tutorial, that meant he only needed to worry about killing rabbits and earning experience points.