Darrel was currently in one of Traveler Games’ numerous offices, contemplating jumping off of the 143rd story. Long enough to maybe second guess the decision but not short enough to save him if he did jump. It would definitely be less painful than the conversation he was about to have with one of the department managers.

He dreaded the potential of this conversation but wasn’t surprised when the email finally came in. The numerous tickets they’d been getting the past 36 hours were nonstop. Even knowing, hell the company had planned for this honestly, the numerous complaints they’d get for a core design of the game.

Granted, no one expected their account to get deleted on their first death.

But that wasn’t what Darrel was being called in for. Other people had their hands full handling the litany of issues popping up. His, as the team lead, related more to an overview of the current systems concerning Legendary Difficulty. A report that was going to sound less than stellar.

Rubbing his forehead, Darrel vibrated his leg. His nervousness didn’t abate when the new human came in. His boss, Sandra Blackskull, sported quite the appearance even among the numerous parallel humans. Rigid lightning blue hair clashed against her violet suit. It also made Darrel feel underdressed with his jeans and flannel shirt. Placing a binder on the table between them, Miss Blackskull got down to business.

“Evening Mr. Cameron. I do hope the scheduled meeting hasn’t interrupted any pressing issues.”

Darrel cleared his throat, settling into the professional atmosphere.

“Nothing the rest of the team can’t handle. There are a lot of issues, as expected, but nothing game-breaking as of yet. At least, nothing that we didn’t build as intended.”

Probing the waters, Darrel wondered if his last remark would be addressed.

“Yes, we have been receiving numerous complaints. But the marketing group will handle that end. We gave the player base ample warning beforehand. If the customers want to complain about the initial difficulty, they shouldn’t play at all. The game isn’t for the faint of heart or childish entertainment like others.”

Harsh. Fairly sure most wouldn’t see it that way. But Darrel was here for a paycheck and fixing problems, so best not to focus on such things. The company’s perspective was their issues, not his.

“Something I have picked up on if your initial report was accurate. It's not surprising a third of the new employees demanded refunds after playing Legendary difficulty. Not that we would have wanted such weak-willed customers or staff if they couldn’t handle a little challenge.”

Permadeath and an inability to make new characters because your expensive VR capsule was hard locked into a single account? Gee, why would anyone demand a refund? Not that Darrel would have voiced these thoughts. Not in those words specifically.

“You’re not wrong Miss Blackskull, but I still think we need to update the offline portion in some capacity. A comatose avatar vulnerable to outside influences doesn’t advocate a proper challenge. It feels more like a cheap shot.”

The deadpan stare, along with her bloodred eyes, was quite intimidating to Darrel. But he needed this to be said, as lacking a player base would end up with him losing his job down the line. He didn’t really care about the customer really, but without them, he wouldn’t be around. Empathy was good and all, but altruism wouldn’t fill his stomach.

“If we want to keep the number of players we have and get more trickling in, we need to advocate that most mistakes are the player's fault. It has to feel fair. We set the rules and they decide to play willingly, so yeah it is on them at the end of the day. No one complains about russian roulette because they lost as being unfair. Not that they could but they knew what they were getting into.”

The small smirk on Miss Blackskulls face meant Darrel was getting through to her. It also meant she had a rather dark sense of humor since Darrel hadn’t meant that as a joke.

“So, I was thinking, if we aren’t going to change the system, why not give the players a helping hand? Give them a warning beforehand, like a message that tells them they aren’t in a safe location. That way, once they log back in any consequences aren’t a surprise. We could even go further and make an app that warns them out of the game if their avatar is in danger. Really hammer in their carelessness is what got them killed.”

Miss Blackskull cupped her chin. Really giving Darrel’s words a thought. He was fairly sure his fingernails would cut into his palm if the tension in the room got any higher.

“I will bring your idea to the board. If we feel it doesn’t compromise the legitimacy of Death Galaxy, your suggestions will be allowed through. I make no promises.”

Darrel relaxed his shoulders, relieved to see the main gripe his team was dealing with would be addressed in some capacity. If it didn’t, oh well. He tried. Miss Blackskull opened her binder, pulling several sheets of paper and holographic projections

“If that is all, it's best we move on to the rest of this meeting. I am to understand some players managed to no-clip themselves into a sun and have yet to die even as we speak?”

Oh boy. Right. Everything else that's going to aggravate Darrel. Joy.