John drank several shots of his home made brew as he told his tale of fame and fortune, outlining where he went wrong as he encouraged Tinashe to drink.

“So my origin story, as you would have it, was that of a young boy who ended up living in Canada due to my parents seeking a political asylum. Growing up, I had many ambitions, primarily in the arts. I acted, I played the bass guitar and I co-hosted a Do It Yourself program that initially started as something that me and my buddy posted on the internet, but we managed to get so much traffic that the local television network wanted to sign us up. We became relatively famous, at least, to those who enjoyed our kind of content, but when Linsy decided to move to Denmark with the rest of his family, everything ended. I became ‘that guy who used to do that arts and craft show’. I had been working on spec scripts for a pilot episode as well as making manuscripts for publication. Not having clout was something that made it hard for publication houses to bank on me. Like shit, the barriers to breakthrough were real and I wasn't really psyched about the liberal arts degree I was going to be doing at university. So I got desperate, went online and found some webnovel sites to gain an audience. The process was tricky because most of the sites were all about genre fiction: litRPG, isekai, video games and so forth. Even if I had talent, the only way anyone would ever give me a chance is if I pandered to their interests.” he said, drinking his 9th cup of alcohol.

“So by pandering you mean selling out?” he asked, curious to where he was going with his tale.

“Well I wouldn't say selling out, though genre fiction requires a creative writer to step out of the confines of the tropes that have been established to make something remarkable. I did that and got my major break, but getting endorsement deals, fame and even your works adapted to other forms of media was just the beginning. You get haters, toxic fans and even people who misinterpret your work. A friend of mine always told me that you're either a critical darling or just a commercial pawn, pandering to your audience. I mean there is nothing wrong with wanting to give your readers what they want; self substitution and wish fulfillment can be intoxicating. Like drinking a bottle of scotch or vodka to make you numb on a bad day. I always wanted to be a critical darling, to become like the celebrated Anne Rice, Whitley Strieber, Laurell K.Hamilton, Gregory Maguire and even Stephen King. The avenue to which I attained success wasn’t really the common route so with my success as a web novelist who transitioned to paperback, I was met with many skeptics. People who associated the vain sensationalism of viral YouTube videos to the viral reach of my books online. I mean it's stupid, right, to think that way?” he said, drinking his 13th cup and handing Tinashe more cups to drink his alcohol.

“Well, didn't physical CDs and vinyl die out to digital streams just like how those Americans say that Blockbuster got phased out by Netflix and various streaming platforms? I mean, why does it really matter how someone started or where their work came from?” he said, now slightly tipsy and unsure if he articulated himself well.

“Well you’re wrong. The source and means to which a product is made is going to be judged and most of the critically acclaimed and their judges, have certain standards. I however didn’t qualify by virtue of being a man who was a by product of genre fiction. I mean, my money came from it but I wanted to become a critical darling and thus, I betrayed the initial fans who made me reach stardom for the sake of writing something pretentious. An atour in the world of writing was always my goal and in the end, I alienated some of my readers so that I could get the acknowledgment from the elitists of the literary world, but I felt hollow afterwards. When you are a commercial writer, you are basically packaging a product and pandering to specific demographics. A critical darling was just pandering to the more cynical and well read, basically, I was an economic cog in the machine, fulfilling basic supply and demand. There was nothing special about my writing nor was there anything rewarding about sucking the cocks of those with elevated tastes. I became lost when that epiphany struck me.” he said, sounding bleak as he downed his 15th cup.

“You know what, I think you should have just accepted what was what and just enjoyed the amount of money you were making. If you over complicate your desires, you will only set yourself up for disappointment.” he said, feeling intoxicated and wobbly.

“Well young man, the hubris of an artist is that he wishes to make his art more real than ‘real’ and with that desire you are likely to burn out when you realise that its depth is a rather abstract thing, not a concrete thing. I did intend to just accept what was what, but I just couldn't deal with it. I turned to vices like alcohol and women. If I were to tell you how many women I slept with you’d be shocked.” he said, drinking his 19th cup.

“Well how many women have you slept with John?” he asked, wobbling and struggling to keep his head up.

“Well I kept count, 337. I surely became a man whore who fathered two children and could only pay for their child support. I was more of a provider than a real father. I was in a rather emotionally inept moment in my life, seeking the vices to make me forget the vanity of my work. I fucked, I smoked and I drank. I think I probably drank more than I should have but my liver seemed to be strong enough to keep me going. Regardless of this morbid state, I continued to write hit after hit, confusing right?” he said, drinking his 20th cup.

“Yeah, this sounds like you are giving yourself more baggage than you deserve. Fuck, I think I am drunk. Is this how being drunk feels. Man I feel like I am in my body but not in it.” he said, cracking a smile and breaking into laughter.

“Well alcohol is a fantastic poison, made to numb your pain. So, I became a manic mess and a rather cynical person who began to judge the merits of people’s works. I became a bigot of the elite, but even the standards that the elite held were just weightless pillars that people like me wished to stand on. In the end I was chasing what could not be attained and my refusal to accept that made me take my life. Well probably the rock and roll lifestyle had taken its toll on me as well so I had to pull the plug. I at least left my children a huge will for them to live their lives in luxury without me. Yeah, I self terminated because I was a complicated mess.” he said, drinking his 22nd cup which became his last. Tinashe had finally knocked out and John laughed at him for being a weak lad who only lasted 6 cups. John really regretted his thought process when he had taken his life and figured that he was a stubborn atour trying to find the universally accepted peak of art. His desire to make the timeless critical darling.

As the morning dew lifted, John was the first one to wake up. He checked the pulsating notification for his inventory slot and noticed that he gained the mithridatism stat. The alcohol poisoning levels had triggered this stat to appear and he was at 2%. John marvelled at this new addition and then decided to wake up Tinashe to celebrate, Tinashe was long gone, inebriated and suffering from a hangover.

The actual act of waking him up was quite an annoying feat for John. Tinashe felt like he had a severe migraine and he longed or something to ease the pain. John cracked open a coconut and made him ingest the liquid. Soon enough, the young man adjusted to the intoxication and he too got to see his inventory slot show the mithridatism stat. John did a quick deduction and associated the word which was related to inoculation to how their bodies were dealing with the alcohol they drank the previous night. Tinashe was amazed by this and John insisted that he would probably grow a tolerance for not only alcohol and other things once once he increased his current 1% mithridatism. When they all got out of their blankets, John told him to pack up the blankets and they began to dine on the fruits that John had stocked up.

As they devoured their meal, one of the monkeys showed up and Tinashe just looked at it with much fear. John told the boy that there wasn’t anything to fear, but Tinashe couldn’t help but recall his brutal beating. Several monkeys then appeared and John began to take out more fruits and gave some of them to monkeys. Tinashe felt like he was observing a zoologist at work. The monkeys all ate peacefully, ignoring Tinashe who seemed shaken by this unnerving experience. John simply laughed it out as Tinashe grimaced. As soon as the monkeys had left, John then said to him, “Man was meant to conquer all animals, if you don’t fear them then they won’t have a reason to see your weakness. Anyways, you made me laugh though.” Tinashe simply nodded and laughed it off. The two of them were about to start a journey together; one of training, discovery and emotional healing. John hoped to level up with this boy and to find others so that they could form a group of like minded individuals who would grow together and not opt for the assimilation method.

John and Tinashe had made a routine of training, exploring the island, taming the animals and building structures in the cave. John’s approach to leveling up was making sure all his stats were balanced. Instead of rushing towards maxing out the first 4 stats to transition to level 2, he believed that having all his stats being high was better than only finessing only one facet of your inventory. A week passed with no sight of any life and the two of them began to think that maybe the others were not on the island. As they took time to explore the island, going past the gorge and the gigantic waterfall, they managed to find another beach.

There they could hear the sound of something hanging on a tree. They ended up seeing a woman who was athletic, 5’9, wearing grey sweatpants and a torn up tank top. She was hanging on a coconut tree, trying to knock down the fruit. The latino looking girl with long hair looked pretty but at the same time bland. Without the filters of makeup, she was all natural and looked a bit pale. She managed to get a hold of the coconut and then jumped off, landing on the ground in a rather cool way. The girl noticed them and waved at them, excited to have actually seen someone.

Though the two of them were happy to have finally found a new person who they could recruit, something bothered them. The girl looked familiar but they couldn’t really pinpoint where they had seen her. Tinashe then uttered, “She looks like Maya Vijou, the pornstar or maybe they look alike.” John then fixated on her appearance abit more and then nudged him on the back, “I guess even the ladies of the adult industry can be found in the afterlife. You have good eyes Tinashe, that is definitely the cum slut known as Maya Vijou.” With this new turn of events, a highschool student, a famous writer and now a pornstar, things were about to get interesting for these 3 in Goshem.