Mature Content Warning: This story is mature oriented in general, but it comes and goes. If the idea of sex and graphic violence offends you, please don't read. There is little to be warned about in this chapter, except a bit of cursing.

Author's notes: This story is a terrible idea I had today. I decided to write it out and see how it goes. I plan to write up short, absurd chapters daily, but don't expect anything high-quality. If its funny, then feel like it's a bonus. Ha!

If this story, as time pass, gets enough attention, I'll start taking it more seriously. However, that will have to wait till one of my other stories is complete. Enjoy!

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In the depths of a darkened room a bitter man scowled bitterly. Bitter men tended to do that sort of thing after all. Who was this creature, and why was he bitter? His name was Scott and he was quite annoyed at the reality of his existence.

You see, children, Scott was a man filled to the brim with brilliant and perverted story ideas. Oh, how that man could craft a phrase. His simple usage of the English language could set your loins ablaze with unholy desire!

However, the gentle readers on the website, Regal Road Classics, did not seem to enjoy his fiction. No, they simply refused to look at his perverted stories in enough numbers to turn the tide. He received too few votes, favorites, and follows. His entire world revolved around breaking through into the top fifty best rated stories on the site. Only then would he be truly recognized as a properly authorial pervert!

Sadly, no matter what he wrote, his stories never broke into the top. He would occasionally check the top fifty stories on the site and note that many of them made his anus wish to clench, yet they were heralded as the best thing ever. He had even seen a story that looked like someone had tossed a book into a wood chipper then pasted it back together, and that story had received five stars from over twenty people!

Oh, how his mighty and perverted heart did break that foul day children. Do not despair, however. This is not a tale of tragedy. This tale is a story of cunning, guile, and avoidance of manwhoring that will set your minds ablaze. Well, that or help you kill time between cat videos on the Internet.

Come, witness the spectacle...

Chapter 1: Screw this!

A man of *expletive deleted* years sat at his computer desk, a scowl upon his face. His latest works of fiction were entertaining people, but they were not entertaining enough people. He demanded more, more!

“What’s wrong with these people? This is gold! Come on, I even threw in a damned Gurren Lagann reference! Gurren Lagann!”

Scott sighed loudly then leaned back in his chair. He just did not know what to do anymore. He wanted to be a professional writer, but other than his military experience and perversity he really did not have much to offer in a story.

Unable to decide just what to do about his lack of perverted followers, he decided to take a break from the site. He actually stopped lurking on the chat for several minutes, a shocking event to be certain.

After scouring the Internet for interesting stories to steal ideas from, he ran across an advertisement for a new virtual reality online game, Hardcore Online. “That game sounds perverted, but I’ve heard good things...”

Hardcore Online was actually not perverted at all. It was touted as a game designed for maximum immersion. Even the time differences used in other games did not exist in Hardcore online. Every minute that passed in the real world, was one minute in the game world.

He was about to dismiss the annoying pop-up window, but something about the game caught his attention. Was it the scantily clad warrior women? Possibly. Was it the massive dragon? There was a good chance of that being the case. Yet, the real reason turned out to be quite a bit more devious. The game’s tagline had caught his attention

“Make my own hardcore legend? Tell my friends?” Those words tumbled inside his brain, much like a proverbial hamster on a proverbial wheel. Hardcore legend plus telling people about it equaled interesting stories!

A little hardcore action might be exactly what he needed to finally become happy again! It would also keep him from taking down his stories and moving over to Lootem.com.

That place was interesting, but they had not updated a few of their translation projects in a while, and a month without reading the latest chapter of Hark, had annoyed him.

How dare they have lives of their own, and not provide him free quality translations of stories that he could not otherwise read? Heresy!

Scott checked into Hardcore Online a bit more then grinned. Oh, this certainly sounded like his kind of place. He immediately checked his Cashbuddy account, and ordered a VR cradle. He spent a lot of money, but since he was playing a VR game, he might as well do like so many other poorly written story characters, and just sell things he found in the game for real life money.

He would have plenty of time to loot the place, anyway. He had no life after all. In fact, he doubted that he would even bother to come out except to go to the bathroom and eat. At least, he would probably focus on the game for a while.

The days of anticipating the arrival of his new cradle were long and boring. He spent his time scouring the forums for information on the game. It was a pretty simple game, really.

Unlike other virtually simulated realities, you received no stat points when you gained a level. You only earned them for completing missions, and even those were earned sparingly. Leveling increased your chances of acquiring interesting quests and improved your health and mana according to your vitality and Intellect stats.

Increasing your stats was done through training the stat directly, or improving skills. So, only people who actually wanted to get stronger could get stronger. It provided for a lot of variety, as few people had the kind of time necessary to train all stats to a high level.

When the day that the cradle arrived finally came Scott nearly exploded with joy. Well, not really. He was quite excited, however.

“Finally, I can have my own hardcore legend.” He wasted no time in hooking up the device. His paying work for the day was done. Thankfully he was a free-lance copy writer so he worked whenever he felt like it for the most part.

Scott went to the bathroom and showered. Afterward he shaved, took a crap, and showered again because that had not worked out well for him. Preparations done, he strolled over to his new bed chamber for the next several hours.

“Oh, just you wait Regal Road Classics. I’m going to write a few stories that put hair on your tits!” He could have said something about putting hair on your balls, but not everyone had testicles. Everyone had tits of some sort of other. Some were even hairier than others.

After logging in to the game for the first time he was greeted by a virtual presence, the game’s login management AI. Scott sighed.

“Hey, what is thy problem, good sir? You gotta beef twixt yoos and me?” asked the fat man in an overcoat. Disturbingly, he had tried to speak an approximation of medieval English, but did so in a harsh Boston accent that turned into a weird New York accent half-way through.

“Nothing really, I had just hoped that I would get a sexy female greeter. Some did, you know.” Wasn’t it practically mandatory that the AI in a proper story had to be an erotic woman? If not erotic, she had to at least sound cute and have human mannerisms despite having no actual human plumbing.

“Well, forsooth there pally. I twas the only one available at this appointed time, right here.”

Scott shuddered at the accent and horrible butchering of the language. “Can you just speak to me normally, please?”

“Harken nigh, ah... fagged aboudit. Look, you wanna tell me ya name or not? I got some spaghetti waitin' for me at home.”

“Just, whatever. I’ll be Scott.”

“Gonna use your real name? You must have some big brass ones fella. Whatevah, what race you plannin' to be? You gonna be one of them fancy prancin' elves, or sumtin?”

“Can I see what I would look like?”

“Ah, ya lookey-loo, take all the time ya want.” The fat man pointed to Scott’s left and a 3-D representation of his potential body appeared.

“Make me two inches taller and about a hundred pounds lighter.” The image changed to be rail-thin and Scott started adding weight back on till he found something that he liked.

“Make my hair blue.” His hair color changed and he fiddled with the settings till it was a bright, vibrant blue.

“Give me red eyes.”

“You sure about that, now? You gonna look like some kinda freak-a-doo.”

“Yes.”

“Whatevah, it’s your life; do what you wanna.”

Scott fiddled with his avatar a bit more, and ended up looking like a slightly taller and more athletic version of his real form. The blue hair and red eyes gave him just a touch of something different.

“Well, hello there Mr. Tall Dark and Freak-a-doo.” The fat man commented on Scott’s choices a bit, but did not have a mean spirited tone of voice.

“You don there, fella?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, then... movin’ right along. You need to pick out a city to start out at. I suggest Albione. They got a restaurant there that serves a wonderful roast beef sandwich. Best, in the world.”

Scott knew that the AI had just picked the name of that city at random. They all did according to the forums. Albione actually happened to be one his preferred choices, however. “Sure, we’ll go with that.

“Right... you ready to get goin' then or you need a minute to change your mind. No one would hold it against ya. I might laugh at ya, though.”

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

“Remember, you said it.” The fat man pointed at Scott, and the blue haired man rapidly transitioned to a new location.

As soon as Scott could stop his head from spinning he looked around. The cobblestone streets and brilliant white buildings were quite realistic. He had never played a VR game before, and expected everything to look cartoony.

A window popped up in front of him.

Welcome to the Summer Isles of Albione!

This will be your home town for a while, so consider it your base of operations. You will start your new life in this world with nothing but a set of underwear that you can’t remove in a public area. In this life you must earn everything!

In a private room, or the wilderness, you can be as free as you want to be. This game world is not regulated by administrators and anything goes. Please understand, however, that you are free to log out at any time. If another player attempts to force a situation on you that you do not like, you can simply log out. If you file a complaint, such as one for sexual harassment, then the company will look into it.

This is an adult-oriented game, but there are limits to what is allowed. Play nice, and murder your enemies. May your Hardcore dreams come true!

Scott read over the information the smirked. He knew that most of that harassment business was code-speak for, “If you try to rape someone, they can log off, report you, and you may be banned depending on the truth of the claim.” From what he had read on the boards, pretty much anything else was allowed in this game.

Alright, it was time to get going. He needed to check his stats then head off to explore the city. First, however, he wanted to get off the street.

“Ha, look at the Noob in his underwear.” A random girl in a nearby group pointed at Scott, and her friends began to laugh. It was ridiculous and cliché. Didn’t everyone start off in their underwear? More to the point, why couldn’t he have been there when she first popped into this world? She wore her leather armor quite well.

Scott shrugged then placed his hands on his hips. “Twelve coppers on sale! Shop smart; shop Noob-Mart.”

His response sent the girls into another fit of giggles. He smirked then wandered off. There would be time for perverted shenanigans later. Right now, he needed to find a job so he can afford to live. His stats would wait until he could be alone, or had some clothes on.