Kevin panted, his breath showing sharp white puffs in the cold air of the warehouse. "Pick twelve" he spoke into his headset, as he stepped onto the platform of the powered pallet jack, and paused to listen for the response. He glanced at the two pallets behind his jack, each one stacked neatly, reaching just over five feet in height, various boxes and bags carefully slotted together, creating a (hopefully) stable cube. His evaluation of his stacks was interrupted by the soft voice over his headset "Trip complete, one hundred and eighteen picks, time allotted twenty-two minutes and forty-seven seconds, trip time nineteen minutes and two seconds, efficiency one hundred nineteen point seven percent". "Thanks, Marilyn" Kevin grinned, he had always thought she sounded like a Marilyn. His breathing slowing to a more regular pace, he pressed the button that raised the pallets, the wood creaking a bit, and then twisted the handle of the pallet jack down, his eyes glancing backward watching his stacks as the jack jerked a bit as it started to move. Many were the newbies or the hasty who dropped a stack and had to restack the damn thing, and he took pride in the fact that his rarely fell. 'Engineering degree was good for something after all' he thought, with more than a touch of bitterness. 'Or all those hours spent playing Tetris as a kid' he concluded, making a mental effort to not dwell on his degree, and his lack of employment in that field.

Arriving at the elevator, he hopped off his jack, and yanked the gate up, a full-blown grin on his face. The elevator was on his floor, and empty, which was an epic win in his book, as waiting for the elevators was just a time sink. Pulling into the elevator, he lowered the jack so the pallets rested on the floor, and hit the button for the ground floor. As the freight elevator slowly descended, he grabbed the roll of shrink wrap off his jack and quickly wrapped a layer of it around the top layers of the pallets. It wasn't that he didn't trust his stacks, but safe rather than sorry was the name of game, especially if he had the time, and being the only jack in the elevator, the space to do so. The elevator dropped all the way down to the ground floor without interruption, and as the doors opened, he raised his jack, and rolled out of the elevator, to the glorious sight and sound of... nothing.

Kevin's smile widened. He knew he was a bit odd, but he loved nailing one of the last trips. "Next trip." he said into his microphone. "No trips available, all trips complete," said the computer-generated voice, "Total trips complete forty-three, total trip time allotted eight hundred twenty-four minutes and twelve seconds, actual trip time six hundred seventy-one minutes and forty-eight seconds, efficiency percentage one hundred twenty-two point six". Kevin wiggled his hips and shuffled his feet in what he privately thought of as his 'Victory' dance, despite several his coworkers having repeatedly informed him that he appeared to be having some sort of seizure whenever he performed it. His shift was basically over, as was his work week, and his average efficiency was sitting at just over one hundred and nineteen percent for the week. He carefully guided his pallets into the automated pallet wrapping machine, and then parked the jack alongside the others, plugging it in, and giving it an affectionate pat. "That'll do girl, that'll do," he muttered to his jack he walked over to the time clock and swiped his badge through. Walking forward, he opened the heavy, insulated door that lead to the locker room. He was already stripping off the heavy jacket and stocking cap that kept him from freezing his ass off in the subzero temperatures of the warehouse. Opening his locker, he pulled out his jacket, gloves, pants and tank bag, and replaced them with his stocking cap, gloves, work jacket, overalls, and work boots.

'Boots, pants, and jacket first, pants over boots is the worst' he mentally chanted. Grabbing his helmet from the top of his locker, and his tank bag from the bench, he left the locker room and wandered down the hallway that housed the few offices in the building and then bounded out the doors to the clear, cloudless sky and the bright midday sun. Giving a head nod and a grin to Mike, the security guard, he walked around the corner of the offices to the parking lot, his tank bag and gloves under his arm as he put on his helmet. Slapping the tank bag down, he gave it a tug, making sure the magnets had found solid purchase. Pulling on his gloves, he thumbed the ignition and as the inline-four purred to life, flipped down his visor and started to sing.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Robert Swarenson was normally a busy man. Today, as he stared at his screen, one hand guiding his mouse as he scrolled through an email without really reading it, and the other absently straightening his tie, he realized that he was actually past the point of being a busy, tired man, and well into the initial stages of exhaustion. The past two months had been the most stressful, exhilarating and rewarding of his life. He leaned back in his chair, giving up on his email as a lost cause, and ran a hand through his hair. He was certain he had seen gray at his temples this morning, and at thirty-seven, he was equally certain that the cause was entirely stress. Robert stretched, rolling his neck to a few disconcerting cracks, and glanced at the smaller monitor on his desk, which held his calendar and showed he had one more appointment today. He reached for his water bottle and took a long drink before sighing. This was it. Not the interview, that was more of an odd curiosity than anything else. No, this was the last day before launch and his much needed two-week vacation.

Robert was, his neat appearance to the contrary, a programmer, working for New Realities Corp, a small gaming studio that had come up with a few innovative ideas, and had quietly found a number of venture capitalists who had made their fortunes in the dot.com boom, and were willing to put up the money to have the studio produce their masterpiece. Deep Delve. Robert's thoughts strayed. Nothing new, from a technology standpoint, as immersive VR had been available for almost a decade. Well, available for a decade, and affordable for almost everyone for the past two years. There were a lot of people who mostly understood how it worked, and those who developed the technology understood their parts of it, but only the original five-man design team really grasped the entire picture.

But, as was said, "What is at first the work of a genius is thereafter the work of a tinsmith", to be followed by "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic". The general populace didn't know how it worked and didn't care. It was enough that it did. You lay down (sitting wasn't recommended), put on the VR helmet, strapped it in place, and turned it on. Seconds later your vision was filled with a rather ordinary two-dimensional interface, you then selected the program to launch and entered the new reality. There, depending entirely on the skill of the programmers, everything looked, felt, sounded, smelt and tasted as real as the couch you were laying on. Through some sort of technological wizardry, the helmet was able to provide and receive information directly from the user's mind. It was widely regarded as the most important advancement since the microchip. Already it had changed the world. Last year MIT had launched its now wildly accoladed VR classrooms, and earlier this year one of their doctoral candidates who had opted to complete his research in VR had made a truly revolutionary breakthrough in hydrodynamics.

'Most importantly' Robert mused as his thoughts drifted exhaustedly 'It made Deep Delve possible'. He was pulled from his thoughts as his phone buzzed, and the receptionist he shared with the other programming leads announced: "Mr. Claypool has arrived for his interview Mr. Swarenson". Glancing reflexively at the corner of his screen, he saw that is was eight minutes till four pm. He pressed the intercom button and said "Send him in please.", as he stood, walking around the desk and preparing to greet his last, and oddest potential employee. His eyebrows rose as Glenda, the normally unflappable receptionist opened the door with an expression of... distaste? Disapproval? His curiosity as to what might have disquieted her was soon satisfied, as Mr. Claypool walked through the door.

Robert couldn't help the grin that started to stretch across his face as he looked over the young man walking into his modern, elegant, and undeniably corporate office. He was tall, probably about Robert's own six foot two inches, and broad across the shoulders. What had no doubt shocked Glenda, was the armored jacket, pants, and boots he was wearing. What she thought about the sleek full-face helmet he carried in his left hand was probably best left unsaid. In short, his attire was entirely inappropriate for this most professional and corporate of environments. Either unaware or unconcerned with his choice of attire, his interviewee strode in and grasped his hand in a firm handshake. "Mr. Swarenson, I'm Kevin Claypool". 'Yep, not a corporate mentality' Robert thought as he shook his hand and gestured to the pair of seats in front of his desk.

Smiling, Kevin didn't hesitate to drop his helmet in one chair and strip off his jacket before dropping it atop the helmet and sitting down with a thump. Robert walked around his desk, taking his time, and frankly taking in the man before him. Dull brown hair kept short all round spoke of practicality, which seemed at odds with having ridden a motorcycle to an interview in what he must have known would be a formal corporate setting. Light blue eyes conveyed mirth as full lips grinned, showing a smile that while white and clean, had incisors that were just a bit twisted, and slightly uneven gaps here and there, showing that while he could have benefited from an orthodontist, he'd clearly never had braces. Add in the sharp white scar over his right eye, and the dimple under and to the side of his left as he grinned broadly, and you had a man that wasn't really handsome, but instead seemed... engaging.

Robert took his seat, attempting, and failing to contain his grin as he motioned to Kevin's jacket and helmet "How as your ride in?". Kevin replied "Any day on the bike is a good day", to which Robert replied, "As long as you keep it shiny side up". Kevin's grin threatened to split his face as he leaned forward slightly, "What do you ride?", at this Robert chuckled "We can smell our own can't we?". Reaching forward he clicked his mouse and closed his window before spinning the monitor to face Kevin, showing him his wallpaper, which was a picture of Robert standing next to his bike, overlooking what could only be the Grand Canyon. Kevin leaned further forward, his eyes widening slightly as he spoke "Is that... a Victory Vision?". Robert nodded, as he swung the monitor back around "It is indeed, and I'm looking forward to a ride this evening". Clearing his throat, Robert brought the conversation back on track.

"So, I know the position we posted was only vaguely described," Robert stated, getting down to business. "Yeah, I was more than a little surprised at the complete lack of any real details," Kevin said. Robert straightened his tie and leaned back in his chair, letting out a bit of a sigh before saying "Well, in the normal course of events you would have received more information." Kevin nodded. "However," Robert continued "the fact of the matter is, that what you responded to was a general posting from eight years ago that HR somehow glitched back up onto the website." He paused looking for Kevin's reaction, which seemed to be an expression of puzzlement. "Normally, your response would have just sat in the ether, as it were, lost and unnoticed." Robert took a deep breath "But, during our final round of hiring for programmers/developers, the algorithm HR uses to weed out the dross flagged your response, and sent it up the line." He sat up straight and grabbed his mouse, pulling up Kevin's application and resume. "Had 'Up the line' meant HR, it probably would have stopped there, but the decision was made to have these final positions interviewed and filled by the leads directly, and so you landed on my desk, and here we are."

Kevin nodded and spoke "Alright, so I'm not even supposed to be here today" he quoted his grin still present. Robert couldn't help but chuckle at the old quote. "Indeed, we are looking for developers who have a top-down experience set with a programming background."

Robert glanced at his screen "Your degree in Material Engineering and... Philosophy isn't exactly inside the criteria," he continued "and I have to ask... Philosophy?". Kevin took a breath and responded, "Yep, I always liked building things, ever since I was a kid, which is where the engineering came from, but my father was a pastor, and my mother is a psychiatrist, so I also grew up with both of my parents giving me conflicting answers to the big questions in life". Robert nodded as if this was new information. It wasn't. He had more than just the kids resume on his screen, he had his whole life story. But Kevin didn't need to know that. Kevin went on, giving what Robert could tell was clearly a response he'd given many times before "It was only another thirty credit hours to wrap up Philosophy along the way, so I just sort of did it." Robert winked as he said, "Get that question a lot eh?". Kevin blew out a breath still grinning "You wouldn't believe". "Well," Robert went on "we will get to your degrees later, as it was actually your alpha testing of 'Altered Phantasy' that triggered the algorithm.". Kevin blinked, his grin still present, but now a bit of confusion and asked "Altered Phantasy? That was almost a decade ago, I was just starting high school...". Robert nodded "Indeed, and the game went bust after less than a year, but," he raised a finger "The developer you reported to, David Reese, was one of the first programmers hired by New Realities, and he brought his all his IP along with him."

Robert stood and walked around his desk, sitting on the edge to remove the perceived obstacle. He looked down at Kevin, who leaned back a bit and looked up at Robert, likely unaware of Robert's deliberate change in the conversation dynamics. "I spoke to Albert Kolatosky last week, and do you know what he had to say about you?" Robert asked. Kevin blinked hard, his smile faltering for the first time. "You talked to my boss's boss?". "I did," Robert responded, "and you may not know it, but he's a fan of yours." Kevin's grin started to return as he said: "I didn't even know he knew my name." Robert nodded as he chuckled "He does indeed, he said and this is a direct quote 'Extraordinary young man, the best employee I've ever had', he then mentioned something about one hundred and twenty percent every day, which I don't really get, but he seemed to find it impressive." Kevin nodded and interjected, "Yeah, it's kinda neat, you know what I do right?". Robert shook his head and replied, "Kevin, I only know where you work because it was part of your contact information when reached out to verify your degrees."

Kevin considered that for a second. "Yeah, I started there straight out of high school before I enrolled... Man, I've been working there for almost seven years." Robert nodded, grinning and asked, "So, what work do you perform for the Evil Empire?". Kevin groaned and shook his head "Man I swear everyone hates Walmart," he continued "I work at a central distribution warehouse." Kevin shrugged, expounding "I drive a pallet jack down aisles, loading up pallets with whatever the computer tells me to, and it then gets shipped to the store. Walmart calls it a 'Logistics and Loading Expert', but the reality is it's just grunt work." Robert nodded, not saying anything. He knew all this already, but he wanted to see what light the kid cast on himself, and how he described himself. Kevin went on, warming to his topic "Basically you have a set amount of time to load your pallets and complete your 'trip'. You need to sit between ninety-five and one-hundred percent of the time allocated, but if you work harder, you can finish more quickly, and you get paid a bonus equal to your percentage over one hundred." Robert continued to grin and pointed a finger at Kevin "More money, eh?". Kevin gave him a double thumbs-up, and went on "Yep, Walmart pays out up to one hundred and fifteen percent, and let me tell you, a fifteen percent raise every week for working hard is pretty awesome". Robert cocked his head and asked, "So, why one hundred and twenty?". Kevin gave a shrug and replied "Work is work. You go in, you give it your all. Otherwise, why are you there?".

Robert gave him a long, considering look "Good answer.". He then stood up and turned his back on Kevin, walking over to look out the floor to ceiling windows that showed the city below. Waiting for a second to set the mood, he said, his back still turned "David Reese basically said the same thing about you when you were alpha testing 'Altered Phantasy'". Giving a momentary pause to add gravity, Robert turned, locking eyes with Kevin and said: "And that is why, despite your complete lack of suitability on paper, you are here."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Kevin paused, his thoughts racing. He wasn't really sure where this was going. He'd been surprised to be contacted by New Realities about a position, but he'd also been ecstatic. Deep Delve was due to be released in two weeks, and it was the most anticipated and controversial VRMMORG in years. Mostly because no one knew anything about it. There had been some low key, basic advertising but nothing concrete, beyond the release that stated it was going to be a fantasy, sword and sorcery game. The complete silence, combined with the developers and programmers that were working on it, and crowned by the publically available financials showing just how much capital was invested, all resulted in an incredible buzz. The fact that one of the alpha testers had released a picture of his character, violating the non-disclosure agreement, and had not only been sued but was serving time in prison only added to the fervor. His mother, who rarely played games, considering them 'dangerous escapism', had ordered a damn copy. Two weeks. No way was the game still in testing.

Kevin cleared his throat, realizing that Robert was standing by the window looking at him, clearly expecting a response. "I'm glad to hear that David appreciated my work, and I'm super psyched that my boss's boss not only knows my name but is happy with my work..." He continued as Robert hadn't stepped in "But I'm not sure what I'm bringing to the table as it were, for a developer slash programmer position?". At this Robert nodded, and walked back around his desk, before leaning over hitting his intercom "Glenda, can you send in Mr. Wentz?". Kevin turned to see an impeccably dressed man enter the room. His eyebrows rose. Three-piece suit, Check. Expensive watch and briefcase, check. Kevin stood up, and with a mental shrug, threw on a grin. "Afternoon Mr. Wentz," he said as he extended a hand to shake, "it's a confusing pleasure to meet you."

Mr. Wentz took Kevin's hand and gave it a quick shake, before walking around the desk to stand next to Robert. Kevin followed and remained standing. Robert gestured towards Mr. Wentz, and said: "Mr. Wentz is our lead counsel for all employment litigation, and he is here to clarify the position." At this, Mr. Wentz placed his briefcase on the desk, opened it, and withdrew a binder, and handed it wordlessly to Kevin. Kevin looked down, and read the title 'Non-Disclosure Agreement' was the cover page, and opening the binder revealed a document that was easily two hundred pages long.

Kevin coughed, and looked up from the binder "So... I'm not a lawyer, but this looks pretty beefy." Mr. Wentz remained silent while Robert nodded in agreement and said "Yes it is. I'm sure you aware of the conviction of Joe Rapsel?" Kevin nodded. Robert continued "Well, his NDA was about half that long." Kevin paused, blinked, and paused. 'Ok', he thought, 'this is a bit intimidating'. Taking a deep breath, he sat down, and looked up before saying "So... serious NDA." Robert gave him a reassuring nod, "It is, and before I can tell you about the position, I have to have you sign the NDA. Mr. Wentz is here to answer any questions you might have."

Kevin looked down at the NDA. He looked up Robert. He looked back down at the NDA. He looked at Mr. Wentz. He looked back down at the NDA. He flipped the pages like he was shuffling a deck of cards, then closed it and looked back up at Mr. Wentz. "How about a summary?" Kevin said with a grin. Mr. Wentz looked to Robert and raised an eyebrow. Robert's grin widened and he gestured back to Kevin. Mr. Wentz took a deep breath and said in a precise, clipped British accent "Yes, a summary of two hundred and thirteen pages." Kevin wasn't sure, but he thought that might have been dry British humor. Mr. Wentz continued "Prison young man. The essence of this document is that should you ever communicate, through any medium, be it written, spoken, interpretive dance, or in response to a seance, the vaguest of hints as to the details of the position, shall see you in prison." Ok, definitely British humor, Kevin thought. He let out a snigger at the interpretive dance bit and outright laughed at the seance. "Ok," said Kevin, his customary grin growing "any chance you have a MIB neuralizer in that briefcase? Just in case the position isn't for me?". Mr. Wentz raised a single eyebrow, and reached into his briefcase slowly, withdrawing in one hand, what appeared to be a rather expensive pen, and in the other a pair of sunglasses. Robert started laughing and collapsed in his chair. Mr. Wentz cracked a smile and handed Kevin the pen while placing the sunglasses back in the briefcase. Kevin grinned, taking the pen "Alright Mr. W", he flipped open the NDA and started signing in the many, many placed which were highlighted, indicating his signature was needed. He'd had to sign similar documents, although not as lengthy when he'd bought his house.

With a flourish, he signed the last page. Kevin stood and handed the pen and the binder back to Mr. Wentz, who took it, checked the signatures, nodded and handed Kevin his card, saying "A pleasure Mr. C, should you have further questions, please call." Mr. Wentz nodded to Robert and walked out of the office. Kevin looked at Robert and said, "Your lawyer is awesome." Robert replied, "That he is, I'm glad you two got off on the right foot." "So..." Kevin started, "now that I've sold my soul... why am I here?". Robert leaned back, and said calmly "We are offering you a position in the game." Kevin thought about that turn of phrase "In the game?" he asked. Robert stood and moved back to the window. He seemed to be a very active talker, Kevin thought. Robert responded "Deep Delve is, as advertised, a sword and sorcery fantasy VRMMROPG. We have some pretty unique elements and ideas invested into the game, and we're very excited to see what players do in our sandbox, but we have a game element that is truly one of a kind." He paused and proudly announced, with an air of gravity "Dungeons."

Kevin waited. Robert waited. Kevin gave in first "So... Dungeons." Robert grinned, and said, "You got it - Dungeons." Robert continued "In every game I've ever played, dungeons have been static. Everyone played in the same Dungeon, and while they might have gotten an update occasionally they pretty much stayed the same." Kevin nodded, having happily slaughtered his way through many a dungeon. "Well," Robert went on, "our dungeons are going to be different. For one thing, we are making the game geographical, and I'm not talking USA and EU servers, or even West Coast, East Coast, but rather locally." Kevin blinked hard 'local servers?' he thought, as Robert continued "We have based the local servers on our preorders," He gestured out the window to the city, "for example beautiful Tampa has just over two hundred thousand preorders, in no small part thanks USF, which will be split into twenty servers." Kevin grimaced and raised a hand cautiously. Robert grinned at his behavior and nodded. "Just to be clear, each server has ten thousand players, based on physical location?" Kevin asked. Robert nodded, and quickly spoke, "Initially, players will be limited in their interactions to the local servers, but we have a system in place to allow players to move from one server to another, although the feature has to be 'unlocked' in play." Kevin frowned and said, "Please tell me no microtransactions". Robert shook his head quickly, "No, nothing like that, in fact, we don't have, nor will we have, any sort of cash shop." Kevin's frown vanished, and he nodded "Thank god, pay to win is awful." Robert grimaced "Indeed it is, and we won't have it. What we will have, and pay attention, because this is where you come in, is a unique dungeon for each server."

Kevin sat up a little straighter "Robert, you know that I don't have any experience with development or program-" Robert raised his hand, cutting him off. Robert walked back over and sat on the desk, looking down at him. "Kevin, I know that. We have just over twenty million preorders sold, and we've hired two thousand developers and programmers. Here is the deal. On each server, there is going to be a dungeon, built and controlled by a person. The idea is to have the first level set for characters level five through ten, the second level set for characters level ten through fifteen, and so on. You're mission, should you choose to accept it," Robert paused grinning "is to build one of these dungeons using the tools we've created." Kevin swallowed, hard. Robert relentlessly moved forward "There is only one dungeon per server, and while there are outdoor hunting areas, they shouldn't be anywhere near as interesting and engaging as the dungeons, and they won't provide real loot. Here is where it gets interesting," Robert said as Kevin thought to himself 'now it gets interesting?. "Every single server is identical except the dungeon. Thus there is no incentive to play on any given server, excepting for prior friendships, save for the dungeons themselves." Robert was looking directly into Kevin's eyes. "And here is where your qualification comes in. I've got two thousand dev's of which I personally hired nearly a hundred. All of them are incredibly well qualified, with a plethora of experience. But I'm betting on you, Kevin. You and Sally's collar."

Kevin jerked his head back a bit, shocked. "Sally's collar? That was just a bug I found in 'Altered Phantasy'." Robert nodded, and said "It was. You apparently listened to an npc, a little girl, who was worried about her puppy running off and nobody knowing who his owner was. And you made her a collar for her npc puppy. By doing so, you discovered that if you crafted a pet collar for the hunter class, and named it, but gave it absolutely no bonuses, going so far as to remove the base bonuses, and gave that collar to an npc, that the npc became a hunter pet." Kevin nodded, "Yeah, I remember Dave emailing me and asking me how many stray dogs I had collected over the years". Robert grinned at him and said "What Dave didn't tell you was that no other developer or tester caught that bug. Nor did he tell you the circumstances that would have caused that bug occurred over two thousand times while the game was active."

Kevin blinked "Really? That wasn't even a quest or anything, it was just chatter." Robert nodded "Really. You caught over a dozen bugs in that alpha that no one else caught. Dave said in his final evaluation for you, and again I quote "Kevin catches things the rest of us miss, for two reasons that I can discern. First, he puts in the work. Every patch, every iteration, he puts in the time to check things over, again and again. While dedication like that is commendable, what makes him truly unique is his ability to see things not from a developer's point of view, but rather from that of a new player, no matter how many times he has seen the content." Robert stopped, and with a serious expression on his face said "I memorized that. Hell, I included it a few times in our project updates. David had a way with words." Kevin started, and said reflexively "Had?". A fleeting expression of sadness passed over Robert's face as he said: "Yes, Dave passed away almost two years ago, cancer." Kevin remained silent for a moment.

Robert took a breath and went on "So, you're my final pick. I'm betting that you can build the dungeon that draws everyone to your server. I'm betting that you're willing to put in the hours, to look at your dungeon from a player's point of view. You're my secret weapon." He grinned as he wrapped up his speech. Kevin shook himself and stood up. It was his turn to pace a bit. Robert appeared to be willing to let him. "Ok," Kevin said, "The game opens in two weeks, so I have two weeks to design a dungeon for ten thousand players?" Robert shook his head, "That's your inner player talking" he grinned at Kevin "and while I need that, here is the dev mindset - the dungeon is instanced, unless you create a world event, and you can set the number of players allowed in each instance from one to a thousand." He paused and glanced at Kevin with a cautious expression "Erm, no more than a thousand though. Hardware becomes a limitation at that point." Kevin nodded. 'Small group dungeon then, I can deal with that' he thought. Robert said "So here is the dirty part. We've invested all of our capital into creating the resources for the game. When you see it you'll understand just how breathtaking the scope of it is" he paused, and licked his lips, "they got the Glenfiddich Twenty One just right. But," He shook himself "For all that, we're running on fumes. Those twenty million preorders represent our funds for hiring our dungeon developers." Kevin blinked and said "So, ten thousand orders, at fifty bucks a pop is fifty thousand doll-" Robert raised his hand, cutting him off again. "Distribution costs. It's going to wind up being thirty-three thousand, four hundred and twelve dollars. Even." Kevin nodded slowly, and said, "Ok, I'm not a professional but that seems... a little low?" Robert grimaced and said "Most of those Dev's, if hired on a salary basis, command between one hundred to two hundred grand a year. However, the thirty thousand is basically a signing bonus." Here Robert paused and gave Kevin a wink "Can you guess where the salary comes from?" Kevin said hesitantly "Subscriptions?". Robert gave him a thumbs up "Exactly. Now, the subscription model for MMO's has sort of fallen by wayside, but we are banking on people being willing to pay for our content. The dungeon gets one dollar for every subscription on their server." Kevin nodded, catching the drift, and said: "So, you start with the thirty thousand, and if you can keep your server's subscription base, you can make ten thousand dollars a month." Robert responded, "But wait, there is more!" Kevin chuckled. Robert went on "If you attract more players to your server, you make more money - and yes, the simple metric for determining if they are on 'your' server is by if you hold the majority of their dungeon delves."

Kevin gave a slow thoughtful nod, his thoughts racing, and said: "So, the dungeons have limited resources, so you aren't going to see servers going all Monty Haul, so that won't be a factor." Kevin snorted to himself and went on "Everyone hates underwater dungeons so no one is going to build those." Kevin paused thinking carefully, then asked: "What happens to the servers where the dungeon just sucks, for whatever reason?". Robert replied in a serious tone "The dungeon gets fired if they haven't had at least a thousand subscriptions for two months running. Then we close the server, hire someone new, give them two weeks to design a dungeon, then we open the server and announce it."

Kevin considered the idea from all angles. Robert was patiently waiting for him. "So, the catch is I have to basically start now?" Kevin asked. Robert nodded, saying "Yep. I warned your boss's boss that I might be making you an offer you can't refuse, so you aren't burning a bridge there." Robert took a breath and said "There is one more thing. That NDA you signed. No one is ever allowed to know that you are the dungeon. As it stands, the two thousand and change dungeons know what we are doing, and about thirty of us here at New Realities." Kevin took a deep breath. He let it out. He repeated the process. Several times. "Ok, I can see that, and I can see why," he said. One more deep breath. "Alright, I'm in. Let's do this." Robert reached out and they shook hands. "Glenda will set you up with HR for the financials - remember, no one knows what we are hiring you to do, it's safest to assume that I'm the only person you can talk to about this, unless" and Kevin was a little disturbed by Robert's sudden smirk "you really want to meet Mr. W. on the wrong side of a courtroom." Kevin shuddered. He could well imagine how dangerous Mr. Wentz would be in a courtroom. "No, I'm good, thanks." Kevin hadn't, until this point, realized that Robert's grin might be just a little vicious. Robert handed him a card, saying "My email and number - text if it's after midnight." Kevin nodded, and with nothing left to say walked out the door, thinking to himself "I'm going to be a dungeon!"