He has been here before.

Alexander Flite looked at the decimated building on the opposite side of the street. A ‘PCBang’ as the sign of the building, with an appearance that would make you think it was a ruined sanctuary. In fact, any building on this street which may have held an importance before, was ruined and did not resemble anything it was supposed to be.

Holding his left arm in place with the splint he found in a small side-shop, he entered inside with a shiny sword gripped by his right hand. A backpack weighing down upon his shoulders, clinking and making noise from all the cans and bottles of juice. He turned around when he was at the entrance, looking at a large piece of metal on the other side.

‘It was reduced to scrap in the end, huh?’ The thing he looked at was the vending machine that gave him the juice and snacks required to game for over six years.

But now the object which lay demolished by some external force, seemed like a jester playing a prank.

‘The previous state of the vending machine must have gotten restored after a dungeon was conquered or destroyed. As such, I got my drinks endlessly, but in the end it was the vending machine that still made me walk inside the barrier of this asylum.’ Although to find fault with an inanimate object may seem crazy, but he has after all not made contact with other humans in a long time.

Finally cutting off his glare from the metal scrap, he walked into the building and shifted his way through collapsed floors and furniture. The computers are broken in heaps of small metallic piles, and the monitors were all cracked and battered. Fortunately, one or two were lucky to be spared, and the same went for the computers. Maybe Alex could set up a perfectly working computer if he wanted to, and obviously he greatly desired to do so.

For him, a working computer meant communication, and communication meant he was not alone. Even though he was alone playing Ginlore all the time, he still had communication with other people like the NPCs and players he would occasionally find. But, he did not want to be alone and surrounded by inhuman monsters with weird shapes and sizes.

Though if he was controlling a character then he wouldn’t feel such sadness.

Since if you are controlling a character, then that meant there was two of you, a player and the controlled-character. It might not mean communication to some people, but for those that are immersed so deeply into gaming, that they find themselves thinking in line with their character, like: how long do I continue to struggle for survival or, should I consult my God [The Player controlling them]? Until they start to lose sense of their actual selves.

Which might be a reason why Alex has began to questioning who he was, and where his God was.

The condition that Alex is suffering has nothing to do with a personality disorder, but an addiction he had created for himself when playing Ginlore. That addiction is…

Crash!

Suddenly from the stairs leading to the second floor, where beds and social areas used by the staff were, the noise of a door being brought down from its hinges assaulted Alex’s ears. Followed by a loud screech! Which made him back away a little.

‘Have I been discovered?’ Alex looked around, wondering if something had given him away.

‘Anyway, that thing should have alerted the whole neighbourhood and I should leave quick.’

But contrary to his thoughts, Alexander walked to the staircase that led to the second floor, and where the noise had originated from. His right hand relaxed and the blade smoothly sunk lower than his knees.

Slowly revealing itself, the monster identified as an overgrown rat, stared at Alex with an intense hunger. It readied itself to leap down the ten stair difference between them, not caring about the dangerous height difference from the top of the stairs to the bottom.

Alex, looked at the creature - that almost killed him a few months ago - with a look of disdain, holding up his sword he only thought one thing.

‘Suicide?’

The rat jumped off the stairs to the sword pointed straight at it, but with the momentum of its fall, the sword-end pierced straight through the diseased fur of the rat. The clawed nails swung at Alex in close range hoping to shred his face off, but taking a single step back and using his leg to slide the rat off the blade, he avoided it happening with ease.

When the rat became released from the blade, it disregarded the hole in its chest and dodged to the right, followed by a leap towards Alex.

The sword appeared out of nowhere, but this time no one was holding it, as it flew through the air and impaled the rat again and killed its leap with a tremendous force. Sending it flying back, the rat was nailed to a wall.

Alexander finished his throwing motion, and allowed his right hand to come at a rest near his side. His chest heaved up and down as he watched the rat struggle to set itself free from the sword.

It only caused its death to quicken from the action.

He observed every action of the pinned creature, but after hearing a pained squeal from the rat, the corner of his lips rose.

After walking forward, he put his palm on the hilt and pushed the sword deeper into its body, getting a stronger reaction of pain from the creature. He pushed it in deeper with increasing speed, but stopped when a claw almost cut his skin. However, a side kick was unleashed and hit the hilt of the sword with pinpoint accuracy, instantly ending the rat’s life when the sharp object sunk into the wall.

Grabbing the rat directly with his hand, he pulled it off along with the sword.

‘Suicide it was.’

When he released the sword from the rat’s body, a little red crystal rolled on the floor.