"Head-On Block," I read the header of the information page on MCO's website. After finally looting a shield, I finished off the rest of the Hermit Crabores chasing me and sat down for a bit of research. "When a player manually blocks an attack with a shield...nullify a greater amount of damage...bla, bla, bla. So this only counts if the shield actually blocked the attack?"

From my scant recollections of old RPGs, they used different types of shield mechanics. I usually classified them between shields that had inherent block chance and those that didn’t.

For the games that used shields with a chance to block damage, it was further divided into blocks either completely nullifying the damage or only a limited amount—Mother Core Online chose the latter option. I could sort of see why. Completely blocking damage might be too imbalanced, and also unrealistic for this game. I'd be shocked if the feeble [Thatched Buckler] I had equipped that seemed to be made of tightly woven dried vines could fully stop, let us say, a dragon's fire breath.

For other RPGs, shields were treated as another piece of armor, giving defensive stats but no chance to block damage. Some of those games gave shields special tanking abilities or bonuses, or even spells that did block damage.

And then there were RPGs with heavy action elements, turning the chance to block into an active move. Mimicking actual combat, it was up to the reflexes and gameplay experience of the player to stop incoming attacks with their shields rather than leaving it to RNG. This type of game became prevalent around a few years after I had quit Nornyr Online, and computer gaming as a whole, so I didn't have much experience with them.

Mother Core Online had apparently decided to merge the different treatments of shield mechanics, and I could see the logic in this choice.

The RPGs that used RNG shield blocking had more enemies to fight; at times mobs could fill the whole computer screen. It was unreasonable to expect a player to manually block each and every arrow coming from a couple of dozen skeleton archers surrounding him. Furthermore, players would be too busy blocking attacks coming from their front that they wouldn't be able to stop those from their side, more so coming from behind them.

In contrast, games with active blocking had fewer enemies, focusing on each individual fight and the movement and control of players rather than the scale of the battle. In that situation, manually blocking with shields—and also evading or parrying—was greatly rewarded.

MCO was sort of a mix between those two. There were large-scale fights so RNG mechanics had their uses, but given that players had full control of their bodies courtesy of the VR system, the action game elements were also there. The system they implemented was sort of a middle ground.

After more reading, I learned that Head-On Block had an equivalent on the side of DPSers. There was the familiar critical strike that was RNG-based. And then players could also deal higher damage if they hit vulnerable points of the enemy like the head, or whatever a race's or a monster’s weakness might be—the Decisive Strike.

I had to learn to be good at manually blocking not only to fully take advantage of Head-On Block mechanics but also to prevent the higher damage of Decisive Strikes.

“I think I still have time to practice more with you guys,” I said, looking over at the new group of five Hermit Crabores crawling out of the caves. I could probably take on a couple more batches of these monsters before I had to attend to real-life matters.

“Tell Raymund I sincerely apologize for being late," I said to my lawyer's secretary on the other end of the WeeCee. It was the following day and I was in the company car. Jimmy was doing his best to drive as fast as he could without us crashing or getting arrested. "I'll be there in about..." The holo-map floating over the dashboard displayed the remaining travel time as seven minutes. "...eight minutes," I said. Even if I was technically already late, it'd still look good that I'd arrive a bit earlier than the time I mentioned.

"I'll tell him that, sir."

"Thank you, Melissa," I said. That's her name, right? It had been a few months since I first visited their law firm and she introduced herself. Raymund had mentioned this name a few times during our meetings, but I wasn't certain if it was her name.

Normally, clients didn't know, or care, about the names of their lawyer's secretary. However, it was Herald Stone's duty to spread his munificence to the world. And I genuinely thought it’d make her day a shade brighter. I personally appreciated if customers were slightly nice when I used to work at a convenience store.

After ending the call, I leaned forward, poking my head between the front seats. "Everything alright, Jimmy?"

"Driving smoothly, sir."

I sighed exaggeratedly. "I had too long of a nap; this tardiness is on me."

Raymund, or most other lawyers, wouldn't mind their clients being late to a meeting. In a way, it was fashionable to be late, a sort of message that 'I'm so important and busy I can't keep a schedule.' And, of course, the lawyer would accommodate their clients. What choice did they have?

A business partner confessed to me before that he intentionally didn't follow meeting schedules—most of them and not just with his lawyers—as a sort of power play. The audacity of that guy to tell me after he was thirty minutes tardy to our own meeting. However, I understood what he meant. Perhaps one would expect I’d pull off that bullshit myself. Everyone should wait hand and foot to the Great Herald Stone, right?

But no. Herald Stone would do no such thing.

I led by example, and if people saw how upstanding of a person I was, they'd sing praises of me as they followed in my footsteps.

And that was why being late even for a few minutes bothered me. It also reminded me of the old days when I'd spend hours at the PC Cafe and forget what time I should go back home. In fact, playing Mother Core Online was the reason for my lateness.

This will be the last time that’ll happen, I promised to myself as I opened my WeeCee. Since its cloud system was integrated into my AU-VR Helm, I could open the details of my MCO character. A smile crossed my face as I examined the item I farmed from the Hermit Crabores that was the cause of my delay.

Worn Duelist Peytral {1} | Item Level: 5

Rare | Med-Armor | Lower Chest

36 Armor

15 Constitution Rating

Requires: 20 Might, 18 Vigor

--------------------

+15% Fire Damage Reduction

+7 Might

Nothing too special, but the Shard slot delighted me even if I had nothing to put there yet. The additional Might was also useful; it’d afford me more flexibility in wearing higher-level gear without being forced to use my own attribute points for Might requirements.

As for the fire damage reduction? It was a peculiar secondary attribute to have on this armor given we lived on a mountain covered with snow. It might simply be a random roll of a bonus stat, or it could be something about the lore of the item itself.

Duelist Peytral... I assumed a Mardukryon duelist would fight another Mardukryon. If he hunted monsters, he'd be someone like Sharulrath—a Hunter-Warrior was what he referred to himself. In Mardukryon versus Mardukryon fights, fire damage would be the most common, which explained the specific elemental reduction. I had no use for it now, or in the near future, but better than nothing I suppose.

This piece of armor also taught me valuable information.

In return for a harsher beginner's area and other challenges specific to the race, Mardukryons had an extra armor slot compared to most other races. A peytral was the chest armor of a horse. Barding or body armor for horses was developed for the wars of antiquity. And during the time of the knights, warhorses were basically tanks on four legs when they were on "full bard". That was added knowledge to Herald Stone, the Middling Expert on the Middle Ages.

However, there were no war cows—a pity that no one tried to train battle bovines—and thus no one bothered to make armor for them as far as I knew. I supposed the MCO devs simply copied barding terms for bull centaur equipment.

Another advantage of Mardukryons, albeit a smaller one, was that they had flanchards instead of the usual belt slot. If a peytral was for the protection of the front side of a warhorse, flanchards protected the flanks. Since they weren't exactly belts, I learned that flanchards gave more defensive stats than the former. Essentially, Mardukryons had a more cost-efficient belt slot.

"If I put a belt on a horse or a cow, around which part should I tie it around?" I muttered to myself.

"Sir?"

"Nothing, Jimmy. Just wondering about life's unanswered questions."

There was a subtle knock. Henry, a first-year associate lawyer of Raymund's law firm, and I both turned towards the doorway. Paunchy Raymund with his obviously fake hair that was thicker than a horse's tail entered the room to check on the work of his subordinate and also to talk to me. We discussed a few business matters and finalized the papers.

"It's such a prime location," Henry said. "Not only is it a good site for a Dolly's branch, but if your business fails, you can also sell—" Raymund cleared his throat and glared at him. He deflated, his words trailing away.

"He has a very pragmatic view on everything," Raymund explained, tilting his head towards the young lawyer. "Very useful in most instances. But there are times, especially in client care, that we should be mindful of what we say. With such a prime location as Henry here so succinctly described, I'm sure Dolly's will flourish here in Egret City."

"Uh, apologies for that, Mr. Stone, sir." Henry slightly bowed his head, his furrowed brows giving a hint of his worry. "I didn't mean it that way."

I waved my hand, showering them with benevolence. "I know what you mean, Henry," I said, using his name to show I acknowledged him. "And pragmatism has its place in business. I do hope Dolly's last for years, decades even. However, if the unfortunate time comes to close the branch, I hope you're still here in this law office to handle that sale."

"I'll certainly be, sir." Then he grinned at his boss. "If I’m not fired after this."

Raymund chuckled. "If that ever happens," he said, pointing at Henry, "You make sure Mr. Stone secures top warbler during the sales negotiation. That piece of land would massively increase in value over time."

My thoughts wandered to what I had read about medieval war horses. To inject a sprinkle of eccentricity into my facade, I said, "Did you know that during the Medieval Period, a good horse could cost a vast tract of land?" It always helped to have a reputation for being a bit crazy; it could be used as an excuse for plenty of behavior. "And I've read that during the Crusades, a warhorse was worth about fifty cattle."

"I'd rather choose the fifty cattle," Henry said. "And also better not to have joined the Crusades."

"Your pragmatism would be out of place during that time," Raymund said.

We all laughed at that. Should I ask them where to tie a belt on a cow?

I probably shouldn’t.