Finding FlickerFlacker wasn't easy. For one thing, he hadn't added his user ID in the message, and a quick search revealed a few thousand users with that name. I asked Twinkle to do a cross search of users who commented on my videos and players of Vesperia. His algorithms were cheap, so I was hardly surprised that he failed to find anything useful.

I sent a reply mail confirming I was interested, then logged out and went to get a bite. I was running low on energy bars, so I grabbed some instant caffeine noodles. The food was more artificial than than the cup that held it, but at least it was nutritious enough for me to stay active. I slurped the noodles down quickly. Usually, I'd spend a few minutes doing nothing. Today, however, I was feeling anxious. The whole level hundred thing had gotten me stirred up. Also, judging by the amount of money I had gotten so far, this had the potential to become a very profitable adventure. Six hundred and forty-five bucks, and the videos hadn't been up for a day. If interest remained steady, I could reach over a thousand. That would be the good life. first thing I’d do was buy a cup of cherries.

“Found anything, Twinkle?” I asked as I prepared to dive back into the game.

“Nothing, Sarah,” my AI companion replied. “Do you want me to change the search parameters?”

“Just keep searching.” I drank the last drop of noodle soup. Hopefully, that would be enough to keep me going for the rest of the night.

Throwing the cup away, I put on my gear and dived into the gamescape. The virtual world appeared around me, shining in all its glory. Animated 3D ad panels filled the space, continuing to infinity. Publishers had spared no expense trying to get their games seen for the upcoming release season. I glanced at a few of the big titles, then waved everything away and opened my game collection. To twenty-seven active games. Not too bad, bearing in mind I was a regular in only six. There was a twenty-five percent experience bonus on Poison Claw. The thought tempted me for a few moments, but I ended up entering Vesperia anyway. Poison Claw wasn't one of my favorite games either.

“Twinkle, anything new info on the hundred level quest?” I asked as the fantasy world took shape.

“Not a thing.” The AI appeared in full avatar floating around me. “Do you want me to do a paid check?”

“No, forget it.” I opened my quest log. The quest was there, marked as ongoing with six days remaining on the counter. Other than the short description there was no info—no map point, no hint, no fluff text. “Is there anything mentioning level one hundred or Domain Gateway?” I asked.

“Nothing on the free boards,” Twinkly said. “And nothing in the game lore.”

Obviously, I had stumbled upon a hidden quest. There was no way a developed would invest that much money into a simple Easter egg.

“Twinkle, are there any stream requests?”

“Seven new users have joined since you uploaded your dragon video, Sarah. Five are online right now. Also, seventy-two of your regular viewers are online.”

Seventy-seven. A cute number, but trash as far as money was concerned. With my financial situation, I couldn't risk turning anyone away.

“Keep a camera on me,” I said, heading toward the nearest merchant hub. “Ping me every thirty minutes.”

“Sure thing, Sarah!” Twinkle giggled and disappeared. If I made enough on this quest, I was definitely buying a behaviour upgrade. Until then, I was going to have to endure.

Firestone was one of the first player created cities in Vesperia, possibly in the entire net itself. It had started as a gathering of tents around one of the newbie spawn areas. From what my parents had told me, in the old days people would pretend to be part of the tutorial system and take advantage of new players. Bit by bit, the number of tents had increased to the point at which it was easier to perform normal trades than trick newbies. Merchant monopolies appeared, grew, then became influential enough to petition the developers for purchasable buildings that would display their status. Shortly after, the player city of Firestone was born, along with the media frenzy that followed. Today, only multimillion dollar corporations were able to afford property in the city itself. The merchant guilds—the reason the city came into being—were forced to shops and stalls on the city streets and outskirts. If anyone wanted equipment or information, however, this was the place to look.

I opened my inventory. The only item there was the golden dragon egg, still whole and bound to me. All my other equipment, including clothes and armor, had been exchanged for gold. I could easily buy new armor and weapons, but doing so now would be counterproductive. First I had to find out what exactly I was going to face; for that I needed information, and information didn’t come cheap.

Following the Road of Thieves, I made my way through the crowd to the nearest tavern that had an information-broker. According to the info files, he had a four-and-a-half star rating, which was adequate for my needs. The larger problem was money.

The tavern had one of those typically fantasy builds, complete with ale barrels and barmaid NPCs. A bard was playing a mandolin in the corner—probably a new player, judging by the amount of notes he messed up—to the indifference of the small crowd of players come to swap information.

“Over here.” An assassin in a suggestive outfit waved from across the room. I gave her a weird look. Roleplayers… I couldn't stand them. If I wanted something fake, I'd watch a proper movie, not suffer through an amateur performance. “You want info, right?”

That caught my attention. I opened my map window. There was no mistake. That was the information-broker. Not the type of character I'd expect. A quick query told me the avatar wasn’t biometric. Hardly surprising, yet if I didn’t want to be charged extra, I had to play nice. Forcing a smile, I nodded and went to the table.

“How did you know?” I asked.

“Search tracker,” she smiled. The teeth of her avatar sparkled like in a cheap cartoon. “You checked me out a few minutes ago, then came here. So, what could I do for a maxed out character? Vengeance mission? Secret quests? Ultimate equipment? I have info on everything. It all boils down to how much you can pay.”

Anticlimactic was too kind a word to describe her my first impression of her. From everything seen so far I’d stumbled on an amateur. Veteran information-brokers never offered information for free, they waited for people to ask.

“I want an item identified,” I lied.

“That all?” She frowned. “It seems you wasted both your time, then. Go to one of the artisans at the bazaar.”

“And I want to know what it takes to unbind it from me.” I took the egg out of the inventory and placed it on the table.

“That’s a piece of junk,” she scoffed.

This was unbelievable! I was sure that the egg had been shown in my videos. And even if it hadn't it wouldn't take much to come to the conclusion it might be related to the end-level dragon. This pretentious piece of shit hadn't even bothered to do a net search of my character.

“Okay, have fun with your life.” I stood up.

“Forgive the kid,” a voice came from the opposite corner. “She’s still young and inexperienced.”

I turned around. The bard had stopped playing. Surprisingly, the few customers continued to behave as if he hadn't. NPCs? Chills swept through my body as I came to the realization. For the first time in my life, I was knowingly standing in the same room as a dark-broker.

“Close up, Max.” The bard waved to the assassin. “Sarah and I have things to discuss.”

I didn't know whether to be impressed or afraid. Finding out my name from logs and online videos was easy. Any kid with a bit of time could do that. Paying for an entire tavern of life-like AIs, that was expensive. I could sell everything me and my parents owned, and I still wouldn't be anywhere close to the amount.

“Please, sit,” the bard offered. “Don't worry about the NPCs. I've stopped their sensor stream, so we should be fine.”

Liar. He was probably recording every second of this on multiple servers. The assassin across from me grumbled, then got up and left the room without a word.

“Please,” the bard stressed, making it clear he didn't like repeating himself. I grabbed my dragon egg and quickly went to his table.

“You own all this?” I managed to ask. As icebreakers went this was a pretty bad one, yet right now my mind was blank. I already knew that “Max” was just a front. She probably could provide the information she claimed—minor quests, player locations, and another small stuff—but the real deals were done with the bard.

“Mhm.” He rubbed his hands together.

“What do I call you?”

“Whatever you like.”

Definitely a professional. There was no way I could afford his services, and cheating was out of the question. Everyone who had tried to trick a dark-broker had ended up with their information spewed all over the web. People had lost their jobs, their families, their minds. And if by some miracle that wasn't enough, dark-brokers had enough contacts to empty most bank accounts in the world.

“I want to learn about the hundred level quest,” my voice shivered as I spoke. “What would it cost me?”

“Direct.” The bard smiled. “I like that. I want ninety percent of your video logs should you manage to reach level one hundred.”

“Ninety percent of the profit?” That sounded unfair, but in fact was a generous offer. If there was enough money to interest him, ten percent was a fortune. I could pay off all my college debts, and move out to a livable part of town.

“No, the actual logs,” he corrected. “I'll give you an unlimited storage video grabber. If you complete the quest, you'll have it with you and on at all times. Ninety percent of everything you record will go to me first.”

“Why not a hundred?”

There was a pause. My question was a request for information, so it had to be paid.

“I accept.” No use in haggling with him. I was out of my league. “Anything else?”

“The camera, as well as any additional information will cost you.” He leaned back. “In case you fail your quest.”

“You know there's no way I could afford you. I don't even have enough to upgrade my companion AI.”

“I know, but you have information that might make up for that.”

This was a surprise. I hadn't done anything special in Vesperia or any other game. At most, I had stumbled on a hidden quest once a while back, and even that had failed to attract much attention. Was he referring to real life information?

“What do you want to know?”

“Two things.” The bard's eyes changed colour. No doubt he had turned on he had turned on his avatar’s video capture. “How did you defeat the dragon? How did you get that?” He pointed at the egg.

“Huh?” I glanced at the egg. It didn't look important in any way, just a solid object. Twinkle automatically analysed the code of all objects that entered my inventory so he would have told me if it were special in any way. Then again, Twinkle was ancient in terms of AI capabilities. “I got the egg when I sold the endless chest of gold back to the game.”

“Hmm.” The bard scratched his chin. “Simple buyback?”

“As far as I can tell.”

“Okay. And the dragon?”

“Luck,” I smiled. “I managed to cast my buffs and protections before the ability lock took effect. I think there's a window of opportunity the moment he appears. Or maybe the game just freezes the state of the effect when—“

“That will do,” the bard cut me short. “And of course, I'd appreciate you not telling anyone else about this. Okay?”

“Okay.” I nodded. This was the most polite threat I'd ever heard. It made me feel uncomfortable.

“Good.” The bard snapped his fingers. Within moments, all NPCs and environment objects had disappeared. There was only the two of us left, sitting at the single table of a perfectly empty room. “Now that you've paid your entry fee, let’s get down to business.”