Rimelion: The Exploiter

The moment I stepped inside, Tin-can's voice chimed in, "Welcome home, Miss Charlie. I am sorry about what happened. You had a visi—"

"Hello, Tin-can," I cut him off, waving dismissively at the camera perched on top of the TV. "Not now. No hard feelings, but I need to play. Bye." I tossed my shoes next to the capsule, along with the rest of my things, including the bag Lucas gave me, and dove into the game.

Logging back in, I found myself in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the comforting scent of pine and the quiet hum of the forest. I took a deep breath, inhaling that earthy sweetness. Who ever said our reality was better than this? Jogging along the dirt path, I passed a few wolves burying themselves in the mud, barely sparing them a glance. My mind was already racing ahead, focused on getting to the Main Village Number Four.

[Lucas] Where are you?
[Princess] Meet me at the auction house.
[Lucas] Roger, ETA 20 minutes.

Unlike the wilderness, the village was brimming with clever design and charm. The elves had chosen their location well, nestled between a mountain and a winding river. Thanks to this, they could farm around the village, and as I approached, I passed many tiny farms scattered like dirty bottles in the morning bar.

It was a win-win situation, because they got a wood they needed for their houses by clearing the trees nearby and creating more farmland at the same time. Their wooden houses didn't have any order, like in the big cities down by the river; they lacked the modern urban planning. Some of them rotted away, some of them were on a verge of falling apart.

Players were even trudging along the same path as me, pulling heavy stones, trees, or bags of something. Ah yes, the early quests were preparing them for the life. I might have joined them in a different simulation.

Here?

Sure, it was nice and immersive, but compared to a fight with a werewolf? Not really my speed. So I couldn't help but grin as the crowds of players passed, each absorbed in tasks that were little more than fantasy day labor.

Navigating the village wasn't hard, thanks to my trusty minimap that traced my path wherever I went. Not that I'd need it—my destination, the auction house, towered above the rest, its pointed green roof reaching skyward like an elf's ears. Imaginative, devs. Very subtle.

Although the auction house was built to host hundreds, only a handful of players loitered here now, their purses as light as an empty whiskey bottle.

Why the Main Village Number Four, when there were dozens of other options? Simple: a few interesting people were based here. Not everyone, of course, but at least two that mattered to me. And besides, at Village Number Seventeen was a juicy exploit and my favorite warrior streamer, Katherine.

As I made my way inside, I searched for Ryan. Back in the day, before the game, he was a small-time entrepreneur, but he moved straight to the auction house when the game launched.

Months later, when I ran into him at the bar, he'd gone on and on about how Irwen had killed him personally—it was painful to listen to. We'd talked more than once, mostly because he was somehow related to Patrick, maybe a third cousin or something like that.

Originally, I'd planned to meet him only after leveling up a decent character, but time wasn't exactly on my side. Thanks to my worn-out clothes, I blended right in; no one gave me a second glance as I walked in. Here, players could rent private booths and act as clerks if they wanted. Ryan had rented one, so I headed over. Faster, dammit!

Out of all the booths, the one he choose, was the most "reasonably priced," which meant it was the cheapest. Two wooden poles held together a rough counter, with a piece of moldy old cloth draped between them as a makeshift roof—even though the booth was indoors.