I'm deeply engrossed in the analysis of a completely new innovation in the gaming industry. The Okkama Company announced the creation of a new computer game that enables the player to become completely immersed in it. The program developer promised that any person, even if they happen to be blind or deaf, can experience their lack of feelings by immersing themselves inside the world of the game. The developer also ambiguously hinted that the feelings may be even more intense than those experienced by a normal person.

The news quite literally took the whole world by storm! There was chaos on the stock exchanges, so I found myself snowed in with work. I had enough orders to keep me going for at least a year. Although I cannot describe myself as the top analyst in the world, I'm still pretty well known in my field. I prefer not to communicate in person: I have a ton of competitors who would be happy to see me gone. I also have plenty of enemies, because as a result of my work, a lot of conspiracies have been thwarted and innumerable scams have been stopped in their tracks. So the fewer direct contacts I have, the better. However, if someone wants to contact me, someone that I respect or admire, I will gladly agree to communicate with them.

Once again, a call came through: my communications program tracks all the calls that come to my address and a small window pops up, giving me full information about the caller, even though that isn’t what it was originally designed for. As soon as I have agreed to take a call or if I call someone else, one of several thousands of computers scattered around the world does this for me. All my communications are transmitted this way. It in turn uses hundreds of other computers and constantly changes the flow of information, passing it on in an absolutely random order. Of course, the program has all sorts of protection, encryption and God knows what. For me, the program is priceless, because it allows me to make decisions promptly: who I need to answer immediately, and who I can call back later.

Without thinking, I looked at the information window on my computer: the caller was from the Okkama Company. You can safely say that I was surprised! I told the program to answer the call without a second’s thought.

“Good afternoon, Dave,” she said. She was a very beautiful Japanese woman, dressed in traditional oriental blue robes embroidered with flowers and birds. She introduced herself: “My name is Ayano; I'm Kiyoshi Akiyama's personal secretary. Perhaps you are familiar with the name?”

Of course I was familiar with the name: it was name of the man who was behind the Full Immersion project, and the game was created under his leadership.

“If you have no objection, then I'll put you through to him now.” Without waiting for my reaction, I was connected to the person that everyone wanted to talk to right now: from journalists to the owners of corporations. I suspect that even the presidents of some countries would drop important matters of state for the sake of such a conversation.

As far as I knew, Kiyoshi very rarely communicated with someone personally outside of work and family. You could practically count his appearances on TV on the fingers of one hand.

“Good day, Dave. I'm sorry; I do not know your surname.”

An elderly Japanese gentleman was looking at me via the monitor. Kiyoshi was dressed in casual clothes: in a monochrome black sweater and jeans. If I saw him sitting in a cafe or walking around the zoo, I would never have believed in my life that he was the head of the richest corporation around at the moment, as a result whose innovations the entire stock exchange had literally been turned upon its head.

"Good day to you too, Sir,” I replied in response. “It's no surprise that my surname doesn’t appear on the Internet. When I started out as an analyst, I created my profile from scratch and did not mention it anywhere, in the interests of remaining completely anonymous.

“That was a very clever decision. These days, few people realize how much personal information can be gleaned from the Internet,” the businessman smiled. “However, I don’t pay my analysis department and security service a lot of money without reason. So, I apologize in advance, but some information came to me. We have searched for people that would benefit in their recovery from the game that we have created, and who know how to safeguard their identity. So you, as an absolutely unique individual, appeared on our radar for both reasons. Our analysis department reported that the only chance that you would agree to our proposal would be in the event that I contacted you personally.” You could say I was in a state of shock, but it lasted only for a moment, after which my curiosity took over.

“I'm all ears.” Apparently my curiosity was noticeable even through my avatar, which amused the person I was talking with very much.

“I am aware,” Kiyoshi began, “that you are fond of fantasy books and like popular online gaming. I also know that several interesting programs have been developed for your personal use and one of them calls out colors to you when you hover your mouse over a particular subject. I also know that you are an excellent stock exchange analyst who can quickly give advice, make a recommendation, or even propose a strategy for the development of a company from practically any industry. I understand that it is useless to offer you money and fame. However, I wish to offer you something that no one else can offer you: a world full of feelings and colors, unforgettable adventures and most importantly - the hope of a cure.”