“What do you know of the hundred level quest?” The dark broker rubbed his hands. A cigarette appeared in his mouth. Expensive stuff. With the rise of virtual reality, tobacco companies had spent fortunes trying to make up for their loss of market share. When lobbying the government to remove all age restrictions didn't bring the expected results, they invested in virtual cigarettes.

I watched the small trickle of smoke come out of the bard’s mouth. It was claimed that virtual cigarettes had the same effect on the brain as normal ones. I was too poor to know whether that was true.

“Well?” he asked, flaunting his wealth. At this point I had no way of knowing if he was trying to impress me or just being annoying.

“I know the rumors.” I shrugged. “When I was a kid, everyone had a friend who had a friend who had reached level one hundred. All lies. After a while, it got old.”

“Ah,” he took another puff. “Let me give you a historical freebie. The original myth was a hoax born on a message board when the first virtual games appeared. A few took it seriously, most didn't, so it was slowly forgotten. In the mid-life of Vesperia, a new myth appeared. Someone claimed to have received a hidden quest that prompted her to reach level one hundred. She had screenshots and a considerable reputation, but since no one could corroborate her story…” He sighed. “She retired from gaming a few weeks later and completely fell off the grid. Then things got interesting. In the following years, more and more players started talking about the mythical quest. Posts would appear on message boards, only to be deleted. Videos would be uploaded, then vanish.”

I swallowed. If anyone else had told me this, I'd be sure they wanted to get into my pants. Coming from a dark broker, it sounded scary. There was nothing new in people vanishing—with the amount of free religions and corporate rule, hundreds went missing every month. Keeping any information off the net, that was beyond impressive. I tried to lean on my hand, when noticed it was shaking.

“Any information on the quest seems to disappear,” the bard went on. “The only info we've gathered so far are bits and pieces—rumours before they were nuked off the net.”

This didn't sound good. I quickly checked the status of my latest videos. They were still there and generating me small amounts of money.

“Can't you buy the info from someone who has completed it?” I asked.

“No one has completed it so far.” The shadow broker smiled. “All I've gotten were a few newbies who didn't even manage to defeat the dragon.”

That explained his interest in me. However, a lot of his information didn't add up. If the quest was as rare as he claimed, why had I gotten a letter? The chance of two strangers completing the same quest at the same time was infinitesimally small. Also, according to FlickerFlacker, there were supposed to be others. Someone was definitely lying, and at this point, I couldn't tell if it was Flicker or the dark broker.

I took the initiative. “What do you know about the quest?”

“There are a number of hints scattered across Vesperia. They lead to a specific place. There, you must perform a specific task.” He stopped. I waited for a few seconds for him to continue, but he didn't say another word.

“That's it?” I almost laughed in his face. “I can't do shit with that.”

“One of the hints is located in Lake Everwhite.” The bard frowned, tapping the ash off his cigarette. “Another is in the town hall of Airmist. That should be enough to get you started.”

The broker snapped his fingers. Laughter filled my ears. I jumped at the sudden influx of noise. The room was back to normal, as it had been when I first arrived. A barmaid came to the table, leaving a tray of beer mugs.

“On the house.” She winked at the bard, whose only reaction was to grab one of the mugs and take a gulp.

A friend request window popped up. Claire Nocturna, level fifty-seven. The user name didn't seem familiar.

“In case you need any on-the-go info.” The bard nodded. “Good luck.”

Good luck, I thought as I accepted the request. In info-broker speech, this meant our conversation was over. I left a few coins on the table, then stood up and headed outside.

This wasn't the experience I had in mind. As lucky as it was to have a private line to a dark broker, I felt I had gotten the bad end of the bargain. The information was cryptic to such a degree that I would have been better off not knowing anything. Now I was indebted to him, and those things never played out well.

I’d made a few steps outside, when “Max” blocked my path. Her assassin avatar was five levels short of maxing out, but the rare equipment made up for it. She put her hand on my shoulder and bent down, looking me in the eyes.

“Had a nice talk?” Max hissed.

Great. Personal drama. I had no idea what the relation between her and the dark broker was, and I didn't want to know. There was no point in making an enemy out of her, so I channeled every drop of patience in my body and smiled.

“It was okay,” I went for a neutral response. “He knows his stuff.”

“Of course he does!” The assassin hissed. “And he'd never waste his time on a drone like you! What's your deal anyway? You a whore?”

“Didn't you sniff my data?” I removed her hand from my shoulder. Info broker or not, I wasn't taking any of this.

“K wouldn't let me!” She pulled her hand away, almost as if she were disgusted at being touched by someone like me.

“Well, tough luck! Look, I just came for an exchange. He gave me some info, I'll give him some info back.”

“Fine.” Max sounded relieved. “Just don't make a habit of it.”

I shrugged. Coming back here was the last thing I wanted, but I wasn't going to give Max the satisfaction of admitting it. Instead, I deliberately turned around and glanced into the tavern with a smile.

“I'll consider it.” I looked back. “But I want you to do something for me as well.” Her eyes narrowed. “I want you to find someone for me. That was your speciality, right?”

“Name,” she said through her teeth. Even in the virtual world, I could feel her hatred.

“FlickerFlacker.” Had I made an enemy out if her? “How much will it cost?” I added.

Max’s eyes started moving around. From what I could see, she must have opened at least five windows. Once this was over, I was going to tell Twinkle to buy some moderately good security upgrade. Vesperia, as most online games, was pretty good in that regard, but there always were ways, and a standard protection wasn't going to cut it. I opened a screen of my own and gave my AI the instructions, setting the maximum amount to three hundred and fifty.

“What do you want to know?” Max asked.

“Location and description.” I took a step back. Hell hath no fury like a broker scorned. I watched the female avatar’s lips twist furiously as she looked over her invisible screens. “Also stats and equipment,” I added. If there was a time to take advantage of the situation, it was now.

“Monk Elf, young, male,” Max said, ignoring me completely. “I'm sending you a marker.”

That was unexpected. Fantasy races were reserved for whales with deep pockets. To maintain such an account, one had to fork out a thousand dollars per month. For me, those were impossible amounts for money, not to mention useless; the only reward was a set of pointy ears and high magic-tier weapons.

Rich kids: I both loved and hated them. Their world was so different from mine, they might as well be elves in real life. Despite what the game ads claimed, free and paid players didn't mix.

“Thanks,” I said once the marker appeared on my map. “Catch you later.”

“I have your ident.” Max’s lips curved in a smile. The message was clear—the moment I did anything to annoy her, she'd make my life a living hell. I had registered my account under a false name, but that was no guarantee I was safe. “I'll be seeing you around.”

Great job, me—an hour into my game session, and I had already managed to piss off an information broker. I didn't bother to say goodbye, just nodded casually and rushed through the streets. The crowd was getting unbelievable. Merchants were shouting over each other, trying to sell their equipment to the new wave of newbie players. A few tried chatting me up, impressed by my level or avatar. I gave the standard responses and moved along. The Max incident was still on my mind. I knew there was nothing to be done, but I still felt a dull pain in my stomach because of it. I hated getting blamed for things that weren't my fault!

“Twinkle, has anyone tried to hack any of my accounts?” I whispered, heading towards the city’s teleportation hall.

“Nope. No one has gotten past the firewall in thirty seven days,” the AI said cheerfully, popping up in front of me. “I have installed the new software upgrade and started a deep scan just to be sure.”

“Good. How much did that cost me?” The thought of how much money I had lost hit me like a sledge hammer.

“Three hundred and fifty,” Twinkle giggled pleased with himself. “The best deal there is. It has saved you the equivalent of fifteen hundred.”

“Of course it has.” I gritted my teeth. Three quarters of my earnings had gone just like that.

“You have a buyout offer. Two thousand per video.”

I almost tripped. Two thousand? That was an insane amount of money! Who in their right mind would do something like that? Never, outside of movies, had I seen that much money in one place. My personal account held a bit over two hundred in case of emergency. Everything else went directly to rent, living expensive, and my college lease.

“Do you want me to accept?” Twinkle tilted his head to the side. Right at that moment, I felt like grabbing him by the tail and slamming him against a wall. If he wasn't sprite only, I probably would have.

“Accept!” I tried to keep my voice down.

“Oh, you can now afford the enhanced security anti-sniffing module. Do you want me to buy that?”

“No!” I shouted, making several people turn my direction.

“Sure thing, Sarah.” Twinkle smiled as he did an eight-twirl in the air. “The videos have been sold. You also have a message from the buyer. Do you want me to read it?”

“Go ahead.” I checked my inventory out of habit. The dragon egg was still there, along with my miserable amount of gold.

“Here's for a good start,” Twinkle said, his voice two octaves deeper. “Consider it a freebie.”

“Oh.”

That was nice. With that much money, I could afford myself a few months of calm and luxury. However, as my mother liked to say “money comes and goes, debts remain forever.” The moment the money hit my, account I transferred half to diminish my student debt, then pre-paid my rent and food subscription for the next two months. What remained was a bit over seven hundred, which I split in two and transferred half of to my secure savings account.

“Twinkle, resend my last FlickerFlacker message.” I glanced at the teleportation tower in the vicinity. “Then set my status to invisible.”

We were going to have a chat.