When I was young, I used to hear rumors about a hundredth level in a ninety-nine level game, but I never thought I’d come across one. Back then, reaching the final level was nearly impossible. Even the pros would have difficulties advancing past the eighties. Level one hundred was nothing but an urban legend, along with code gremlins and hacker saints. Allegedly, one could reach the level by doing a secret combo during the end game credits, and by doing so would receive a special prize that could change the game world forever. The myth lasted for half a decade, until the era of the triple digit level games began, rendering it obsolete.

I performed a new search and glanced through the results. There was no mention of a level hundred instance linked to Vesperia. The last time someone had even asked the question was five years ago, though in an entirely different context. At the time, there were rumors that the game would increase its level cap to reflect modern day game practices. So far it hadn’t.

“Sarah, it’s time for work,” Twinkle reminded. “Even if you skip breakfast, you’ll have to run to get there on time.”

I grabbed a protein bar from the shelf and bit into it just to mock him. He was right, though. My shift started in less than forty minutes, which meant I had to be there in ten. I grabbed my jeans, took my uniform shirt from the only hanger in the room, then rushed for the door. Years of practice had taught me how to get dressed while moving. During the days of my parents, such skills were an advantage; today, they were a necessity. Jumping into my shoes, I glanced at my apartment one final time, then set the alarm and ran off.

It was raining when I got out—nothing the synthetic fabrics of my clothes couldn't handle, though I didn't want to get my skin exposed for too long. Thank the code that rain was rare in Lower Hudlum. Anywhere further south and I'd have to go out with a mask and jacket. The government denied it, but there were more chemicals in rainwater than there were in a bottle of soda.

A couple of new game billboards caught my attention on the way to work. Most were promoting the latest installment of popular franchises—paid subscription titles way beyond my means. There were a few about upcoming MMOs, which I made a note to try out. With luck, I could get a few hundred extra this month, possibly more, depending on the avatar system they used.

“Twinkle, up the priority of these games,” I said, running. “And add them to my schedule.” I’d have to go through my game list after work and decide what to drop. Today’s fiasco had proven that I needed to be more selective in future.

By the time I arrived, everyone was busy preparing the shop for the morning crowd. It was a Thursday shift, so things weren’t expected to be hectic. I rushed to the storeroom.

“Cutting it a bit short,” Jeff whispered as I passed by. Technically, he was my superior even if he was a few years younger. In retail, as in online, age didn’t mean a thing.

“Sorry, weird night,” I said, putting on my gear belt. I knew he wasn't going to report me, but with jobs being what they were, I had to constantly be vigilant. According to the law, no employer was allowed to make any temp worker stay longer than ten hours per day, yet anyone who didn't volunteer three hours extra might soon find a two day notice slip in their email. I’d worked here for long enough to see it happen.

“Oh?”

I could see Jeff’s eyes widen. I still wasn't able to figure out if he had a crush on me, or was genuinely curious. He'd never made any moves, but at the same time was a bit more interested in my private life than I was comfortable with.

“Just a stupid game,” I brushed it off. “I found some weird bug.”

“Ah.” He nodded. I could see the relief in his eyes clear as day. “It's free money, I guess. What are you playing these days?”

“The usual stuff.” I typed it my keycode on the work terminal. My name flashed on the tiny screen along with my work info, indicating that I had three weeks of leave to take. Pity I would never be allowed to use it. “I did some Vesperia. The game hasn't aged well.”

“Ouch. I used to play it a lot as a child. Hit level ninety before my brother stole my account.” Jeff polished his name tag. “I heard they bumped up the graphics. Is that fake PR?”

“No, they bumped up them up a lot, it's just…” I sighed. “It's an old game. You can feel it five minutes in. The old folk love it because it's a nostalgia magnet, but that's all it is. Quests are repetitive, grinding is boring, and it has more bugs than a washing machine. If you ask me, they should have closed it years ago.”

“It takes a lot to launch a game. Always cheaper to patch it up one update at a time.” Jeff straightened up. There still were about twenty minutes before opening time, but the first client of the day had already walked in. “Let’s continue at lunch break.”

I nodded. In our line of work, the customer was king. On paper, our job description was considered part of the service industry. In reality, there was no other industry left. Robotization and advancements in AI had replaced humans in every other area, from engineering to entertainment. Even the games I played were seventy percent developed by AIs. Code and graphics had long become too complex for ordinary humans to handle. The one area machines had no chance was real life social interaction. There was something about humans being served by humans that tickled our fancy.

By half past eight, the shop was filled with people. Tech, especially the cheap-end type, required a lot of maintenance. Most often, that would involve removing algae buildup—biocomputers were a blessing, but came with their specific side drawbacks. Wearware had to be cleaned of organic deposits once every few weeks, which caused a lot of very impatient customers. In the face of their grumbling, the only thing I was allowed to do was smile, swallow my pride, and take the abuse.

As noon approached, the types of customers began to change. The noon types were more relaxed and chatty, mostly middle aged, middle class regulars that didn't need to get their tech cleaned before work. They constituted a small part of the shop’s income, but were fun to listen to, and always tipped. By three, even they had gone, letting me to enjoy my fifteen minute “lunch break”. Making a sign for someone to take my place, I rushed outside. As expected, Jeff caught up to me.

“Thank the Net for slow Thursdays,” he said rubbing his hands. “So what are we getting? Sandwich box, or something fancy?”

By fancy, he meant grabbing a snack from the fast food place next to our shop. Usually, I'd say no, but there was something I wanted to ask him, so I nodded and followed him across the street. On the way, I checked my phone for messages. There was the usual spam and emails from university, and a message from Twinkle. My AI had managed to sell off the videos of my dragon fight for five hundred and seventy bucks. When I saw the amount, my heart skipped a beat. I hadn't seen so much money since the time I accidentally stumbled upon a hidden quest in Blazing Guns III.

Strangely enough, Twinkle had found nothing relating to the level bug in Vesperia. That was somewhat alarming. For an AI to fail such a basic search either meant that the information was behind some serious paywalls, or it didn’t exist to begin with.

“You okay?” Jeff asked. “Troubles in university?”

“What?” I looked up. We were at the register of Mixa Max—arguably one of the best synth-food chains in town. “Err, I'll have the daily,” I said, sliding the phone in my front pocket.

Jeff ordered the same, then joined me in search of a table. Even with the lunch crowd gone, finding tables remained a luxury. In the end, we just grabbed our food and went to eat outside.

“Jeff, you can still find stuff out, right?” I started the conversation. “From the deep web.”

“Doubt it.” He took a bite of his plankton roll, avoiding my glance. “Haven’t been involved in that since high school.” I could tell he was lying. Like most “ex-hackers,” he was terrible at keeping a poker face in real life. “Are you in trouble?”

“No, just found something odd in a game.” I wrapped my food for later, for some reason I wasn't hungry. “Have you heard anything about a level one hundred in Vesperia?”

Jeff froze mid bite. This was new. For the first time since I’d known him, I’d managed to grab his interest.

“I maxed out my character yesterday,” I went on. “It was boring as shit. I beat up some mobs, got my level-up notification, then things got weird.”

“Oh?” Jeff moved closer.

“My interface froze, then an end-level boss came out and attacked me.” I took a bite of my food. I didn’t want to know what chemicals they put inside, but it tasted great. “I couldn’t access my inventory, had all my skills locked, wasn’t even allowed to quit the game. Heard anything about that?”

“Well.” He looked about trying to act absent minded. “Just that it's part of the endgame event. Supposedly, there are twelve hidden bosses, each dedicated to a sign of the game zodiac. They're said to be impossible to kill. It's like ultra hardcore mode. No skills, no buffs, no life regen. One hit and you're out.”

I nodded. That was a pretty accurate description of what happened.

“How did you kill it?” The moment Jeff asked, we both knew he had slipped. We looked at each other for several seconds, after which he threw what was left of his roll on the ground. “Shit!”

“You know something.” I felt both smug and alarmed. Jeff wasn't the sort of guy to freak out about games. Time wasters he'd call them, even if he played almost as much as me. Then again, he had other means of making money.

“Maybe. Look, it's time to get back to work. You know how the boss gets if we use our full lunch break.”

“Jeff, what's the big deal?” I snapped. “I’m tired of your constant mysterious act. You’re not getting any, so just tell me what’s up with that stupid hidden quest.”

“Drop it, okay?!” he hissed. This was the first time I'd seen him act this way. The goofy, overly clingy kid had showed his claws. “Look, we have lots of stuff to do, and the boss has already given us a few warnings. I'll video you after work, okay?”

I’d only seen Jeff react like this twice before, and both times had involved women. As much as I wanted to push the topic, it wasn't the best moment. Intriguing or not, the hidden quest remained just that. Even if I recorded it, I'd hardly get more than a few hundred, and that was the best case scenario. It wasn’t worth risking my job.

The remainder of the day continued in awkward silence. Jeff was still there, but for all intents and purposes, he might not have been. I tried starting a conversation a few times, but all I got were one word answers. At some point, I just stopped trying. When it came time to leave, I made a point of saying bye to everyone but Jeff. I didn't bother to check for a reaction, just put the gear in my locker section and walked out of the shop. Less than a minute later, my phone started beeping with messages from co-workers asking if we had broken up.

“Twinkle, delete all new messages since lunch,” I said. Right then, I desperately wanted to hack something to bits. “And buy the MMO on the top of my list.”

“Sure thing, Sarah.” The AI’s voice echoed in my ear. “University mails as well?”

“Leave those. Just clear the spam and gossip.”

“You got it!”

Damn, Twinkle, why did you have to be so cheerful all the time?

“You have one personal message from a Vesperia user that requires read confirmation before I can delete it,” Twinkle added. “Do you want me to read it now?”

Read confirmation? Usually only the government sent such messages. Everyone else had to pay a flat fee of ten bucks for the privilege. My parents used to send one such message per month when I had started college, but even they had stopped after half a year.

“What's the subject line?” I quickened my pace.

“Golden dragon video,” Twinkle chirped. “Want me to read it now?”

Golden dragon video? I had completely forgotten about that. Of course there would be noobs mailing me, especially with my biometric in-game avatar. This was probably just one of many.

“Read it.” I might as well get it done with. Then I was going to sell off my character.

“Here goes,” Twinkle said, then coughed indicating the start of the message. “I saw your video. I have five days to reach lvl 100. If you’re not in a group already, want to join up? I've found two hints already, so I could be useful. Please let me know asap. FlickerFlacker.”

I froze in place. Two people bumped into me, then rushed on, swearing. I hardly even noticed. Right now there was one thought on my mind: someone else received the hundred level quest, and they wanted me to join them.