Speedrunner 0.1

Author's Note: roxas_duh generously sponsored this second chapter of Speedrunner with his story sponsorship last month. Thank you for your support!

Also, there's a lot of...very specific formatting in here, as we get into the LitRPG mechanics. Will you let me know how the readability of this presentation works? I may tweak it over time; I want them to be as readable as possible, feel distinct from dialogue/descriptions, but not require an endless amount of my time to manage. So if you've got feedback, I'm all ears

---

The most surprising thing on Prometheus's list of requests? Hmm. That's actually a great question, Diane. Nobody else who has interviewed us so far has asked that.

Melissa, can we answer that, or is it too much information, a spoiler?

Haha, for the audio-only listeners -- my cofounder looks deeply uncomfortable, but she's nodding a reluctant yes. I think we can answer. Okay, Diane, what's the rating on your program again? Can we swear, for example? Good. Great.

The most surprising thing it wanted: porn. It asked for a ton of porn. I know, I was as taken aback as anyone. And it mostly wanted the real stuff. Not the big agencies, cranking things out — sorry, sorry, pun not intended — with pornstars. Prometheus wanted home movies, content from amateurs and smaller creators, that sort of thing. Real stuff, with authenticity. It certainly kept our copyright and legal folks working overtime, I'll tell you that much. Right, Melissa? Right. 

So, yeah, I don't think any of us expected that. But in some ways -- is it that surprising? Reality entertainment -- even back to those early days of reality television -- has always been about real, raw human interactions. Who triumphs, who's defeated. Who gets what they want, who doesn't. Who comes out on top, who's left with nothing. Winners and losers.

And so, in retrospect: of course Prometheus wanted to know as much as it could about the most fundamental human interaction of all.

---

Three hours after I left Ryan's place, I was on a plane to San Francisco.

Three hours after that, I was in a hired car -- piloted by a quiet but friendly man who never gave me his name, but was holding a sign at the airport with my name on it by baggage claim -- that drove two hours down the highway.

Then I was walking, wheeling my little suitcase behind me, into a large building that dominated an office park. It was several stories tall and spanned at least one city block, maybe more -- but the exterior was relatively nondescript, otherwise.

We'd driven past dozens of similar setups on the way here: cheap, sprawling buildings that could be repurposed any number of ways. From the outside, this looked like it could've been a shipping warehouse, a storage facility, or any number of other things.

The aesthetic inside was a kind of combination of minimalist and industrial. The kind of clean bright whites and neutral grays you might find in the corporate headquarters of a tech company, plus the exposed ductwork, trusses, and pipes of an industrial commercial building.

I was still staring around at the clean lines, the muted whites and greys, the burnished metal tones around the reception area. A few chairs, security guard behind a counter. The space was otherwise unremarkable. A half-dozen metal doors -- all of which were solid, painted a darker grey than the walls, and had keycard-operated locks -- lined the wall opposite me.

The guard nodded at the driver -- who'd escorted me in -- who nodded back to him, and left. "Someone will be out to get you shortly," the guard said. "You can sit, if you like."

He gestured at the chairs lining the entrance area.

And then he ignored me.

I sat down.

I couldn't help but notice that this security guard looked like a significant upgrade from the shopping mall rent-a-cops I mostly saw when I was out and about. Bulletproof vest. Handcuffs at his utility belt. Firearm holstered at his side. An earpiece in his ear.

Instead of the bored, thousand-yard stare of a man who was mostly paid to be present and accounted for at his post, he had the bored, thousand-yard stare of a man who was accustomed to violence.

It didn't exactly invite conversation.

I waited for long enough that I was just about to reach the end of my patience and start peppering him with questions, when one of the doors opened, and a young man walked out to greet me. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and holding a computer tablet. He was probably a few years older than me -- mid twenties, maybe, with blond hair back in a ponytail.

He blinked a few times when he saw me, but rapidly recalibrated, putting a smile on his face. "You must be..." He glanced down at his tablet. "...Sure, right, Chloe! Well, welcome. I'm Ethan. I'll be your handler and primary liaison throughout the competition. C'mon, right this way. How was the flight and your drive?"

"Uh, good. What exactly--"

He held up a hand, smiling at me. "Before we proceed, I'm going to have to ask for any electronic devices you've got. Phone, laptop, pager...anything along those lines."

I stared at him, awkwardly for a moment. I'd been expecting this -- their contract had covered it -- but it still felt deeply uncomfortable. I was terminally online. Reluctantly, I pulled out my phone, handed it to him, and unzipped my suitcase to pull out my laptop in its case as well.

"That's it? No backup phones or anything, right? I trust you, but if you've got another device, it will get discovered, and then we'll have to put you on stricter security protocols. You won't like them, trust me."

I only had the one phone and the one laptop I'd brought with me. "No, nothing else."

"Okay, great! This way. Now, what were you asking?"

He swiped us through the door and started leading us down a hallway. It reminded me of...an airport? No that wasn't quite right. Maybe more like a hospital, with the broad, predictable, no-frills hallways. Or a hotel? Maybe a really big high school, or the administrative building in a university?

Those weren't quite right, either.

Regardless, there was a kind of unremarkable, familiar, anodyne regularity to the space.

But I had more important things I wanted to ask Ethan about anyway. "What's the game, Ethan?"

"Oh, you'll find out in about two hours. You're scheduled for your first Tutorial today. We like to get folks into the game quickly."

I could hear, in his voice, the capitalization of Tutorial.

I glanced at some signage on a wall as we walked past.

DORMITORIES

MEDICAL

WELLNESS

CAFETERIA

ELEVATORS

EXIT

Arrows indicated that we were walking away from EXIT, and towards everything else.

"Where're we going?" I mumbled the question at Ethan's back. He was marching purposefully down the hallway; I had to walk fast to keep up.

"Oh, I'll explain about that in a little. First we've got to go to Medical; you need to get a baseline physical before your Tutorial."

As he kept going, we approached an intersection. The hallway continued on ahead of us, and forked both left and right as well. A security guard stationed at the intersection nodded at Ethan. Ethan nodded back, and took us right. The signage indicated that Medical was this way.

We walked down a hallway. He swiped us through another set of double doors.

And now it really felt like a hospital. I signed in at a reception desk.

Ethan handed me off to a nurse, and sat down in the waiting area.

The nurse took me into an office and gave me a full, if otherwise unremarkable, physical.

And then she brought me back out and handed me off to Ethan.

Who marched me back down the hallway, back to the same intersection, and took the opposite fork.

Towards DORMITORIES.

There were many more forks on this side of the building -- now it truly did feel like a hotel, each hallway containing a block of numbered rooms. Ethan passed a few of them, then made a right turn, and led us to room 481. He swiped his keycard again to let us in.

Curiously, I stepped inside.

The room was small and unremarkable, minimally furnished: a desk, a bed, a chair in the corner. It confirmed the sense of this being a hotel. TV on the wall opposite the bed. Another door let into what I assumed was a bathroom. There was a minifridge and a microwave, but no full kitchen.

"So, here's where you'll be staying for this first phase of the competition. Room 481. Spartan accommodations, I know, but you can trust me when I say you'll mostly be playing the game, so it won't matter. If you ever do get lost or whatever, any of the security guards can help you. You can unpack as you like -- not much closet space, I'm afraid, but there's a little. The TV doesn't have major streaming services but it does have-"

I cut him off. "What is that?" I was staring at the bed.

More precisely, at the clothing that was laid out on the bed.

A matte black suit was laid out on the bed. It looked like some kind of stretchy material -- spandex, maybe, but woven into it were a variety of metallic-looking threads.

Resting atop that was a helmet, or maybe a headset -- also black. It looked like a lightweight motorcycle helmet.

"That," Ethan said, with a certain degree of reverence, "is how you play the game. It's your rez suit. You'll, uh need to strip naked; if you like, you can go into the bathroom to put it on."

Well, I recognized some sci-fi, advanced technology when I saw it.

This looked fucking awesome, and I didn't need to be told twice. I grabbed the suit and headed towards the bathroom.

It was easier to put on than I'd expected -- the fabric had a lot of stretch to it, which helped, and it was zippered in the front. And the wires somehow gave it more structure than you'd expect. I could feel the cool touch of metal at various contact points all over my body.

The suit was slightly heavier than I expected, a little stiffer than I expected, too, once I was in it.

I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror.

This was badass.

I looked futuristic as fuck.

And hot, too, I thought. Skintight black spandex clung to the curves of my body; the black material and my long dark hair went well together. I gave myself a smile in the mirror. Hell yeah.

"Why's it called a rez suit?" I asked the question, as I opened the door and moved back into the room.

"Slang from the original engineers who designed the thing, I think. The suit lets you resolve into the virtual reality of the game," Ethan answered, absentmindedly. He was doing something on his tablet, but glanced up as I walked into the room.

"And, uh, well, it looks like it fits you. So that's good." I could feel his eyes lingering on my body.

Interesting. After Alex the AI and surly security guards, Ethan felt like the first real opportunity to get some actual extra information.

"You think so?" I asked the question innocently, glancing down. "It feels a little tight, um...here..." I glanced down at my ass, twisting my torso so that Ethan could see my butt in profile. "It doesn't look too tight to you?"

"You look - I mean, it, uh, looks--" Ethan reddened, before getting control of himself and glancing down at his tablet. "N-no, it doesn't. And the software's saying all the signal readings from your suit are strong, so I don't think there's a problem. Does it feel uncomfortable?"

I shook my head, hiding my smile. "Feels great."

Ethan nodded, glanced back down at his tablet. "Uh, good. Your Tutorial can start now, if you're ready to start playing. You put the helmet on, the room's lights automatically dim -- they're cued to that. Then you'll rez -- sorry, resolve -- into the game. It happens gradually and it's easiest in a quiet, dark room; otherwise the transition can be a little jarring. I'll step out while you do that, but your vitals are getting monitored constantly through the suit. When you rez out of the game, I'll get notified and come back. You'll need to do another physical just to make sure you aren't reacting badly to things. Any questions?"

I thought for a moment. I had a million, but I doubted he could answer any of them. I shook my head. "Not unless you've got any Tutorial advice."

He was already moving towards the door. He hesitated, then whispered. "Only that there's no prize for getting the fastest time." He gave me a wink, and then pulled the door closed.

I blinked. That was actually advice.

And it indicated that he knew who I was. Something to file away for later.

I put the helmet on, and lay down on the bed, on my back. The helmet completely obscured my field of view, and -- over the next fifteen seconds or so -- the lights in the room must've dimmed, because the ambient light bleeding in around the edges of the visors faded.

In large, blue, sans-serif font, a single word blinked three times in front of me, floating in the darkness.

INITIALIZING...

And then that disappeared, too.

As I sat there in the darkness waiting for something to happen, I had a disquieting thought:

Ethan hadn't given me a keycard for my own room.

Hospital, hotel, airport...none of those were quite right.

Because actually this place reminded me a little bit of a prison, with its unforgiving halls, its extra security, its controlled access.

But before I could mull that over further, things began to happen.

---

INITIALIZATION COMPLETE.

LOADING CHLOE.

The blue words blinked three times, and then were gone.

The first thing I noticed was that it was getting brighter. Very, very slowly, but perceptibly.

The second thing I noticed was that as my vision got brighter, an overlay was appearing on my vision. In the center of my field of view were more blue words.

LEVEL ZERO: TUTORIAL I

SETTING: [SAFE][MODERN][BAR][TUTORIAL][HAPPY HOUR]

ADDITIONAL RULES AND RESTRICTIONS:
ENCOUNTER LIMIT: 1

I blinked, digesting that. Some interesting little details about how they provided setting information in there, weren't there? Something to think about later. I wondered if there was any similar information about my charact--

Even as I had the thought, the words shifted.

NAME: CHLOE

ARCHETYPE: STREAMING SPEEDRUNNER

The speed with which the words appeared was a little disorienting, almost enough to give me vertigo -- except that I was still lying down. Streaming speedrunner? What did that even m--

New words appeared as I focused on streaming speedrunner, expanding into paragraphs, as if there was a detailed tooltip popping up.

Some people are born with incredible gifts. Mathematical brilliance; the ability to understand numbers and equations as easily as the written word. Athleticism that stretches our understanding of what the human body can achieve. Charisma and eloquence that lets them sway the emotions of thousands, close deals worth millions.

You, on the other hand, were born with a superhuman talent for beating videogames as quickly as possible. Fueled by energy drinks and parasocial relationships with strangers, you’ve honed it to exceptional heights. It’s always been about the destination, not the journey, for you, and this competition is presumably no exception.

"Wow. Thanks for the rave review," I muttered.

There was no response, just the quiet, my vision slowly brightening.

I resisted the urge to sit up and look around. The way things were seamlessly integrated into my attention was pretty fucking impressive. I had to imagine the game's visuals were going to be at least as impressive, probably immersive to the point of being distracting.

So I wanted to focus on more about the systems, first.

For example, did I have a more detailed character sheet, stats of some k--

STATISTICS
Appearance: 1
Verbal: 2
Performance: 1
Sexual Prowess: 2

EXPERIENCE
Dominance: 0
Satisfaction: 0
Connection: 0
Overall Score: 0

The words blinked into existence in front of me again. The rapidity with which the game pulled up context on whatever I was thinking about was actually annoying. It felt like someone finishing your sentences for you. I wished it was a little slower.

But the character sheet itself was at least relatively straightforward. I'd seen games that had way more complicated stats systems than this.

I grinned as I inspected the numbers. Now I was in my element.

The game had given me a two in Verbal, which probably made sense in the given that I spent most of my time talking into a microphone.

But...sexual prowess?

As if I were hovering a mouse cursor over the words, an explainer popped up.

A combined measure of your ability to turn on other people through your appearance, words, and actions. Ever asked yourself how good you are in bed? The answer to that question would be this number.

"Is this just going to be a weird cartoon porn game? Because that's going to be pretty disappointing." I asked the question out loud.

Nobody answered, of course.

I decided I'd had enough with menus and character information for now. The world around me had continued to get brighter over the last thirty seconds, and I could see now see that I was looking up at a nondescript wooden ceiling.

I sat up and looked around.

The hotel-like room I'd been in was completely gone.

Instead, I was in a tiny, dingy wooden room, sitting on a cot against one wall.

And it was indistinguishable from reality.

Which felt impossible. It had been dark for ninety seconds, three minutes, maybe. But the transition was complete, abrupt, and pretty fucking impressive.

I knew it wasn't real, that this had to be some advanced VR -- but it was enough to give me a little vertigo just thinking about it. It was like I'd closed my eyes and opened them to discover an extremely quiet construction crew had demolished the building around me, replaced it with something else entirely.

I stood up. It felt exactly as if I were standing up in real life, complete with the shift in perspective, the sensation of my muscles flexing, the creak of the bed, everything.

I glanced down at myself. I was wearing the same black spandex I'd laid down on the bed wearing...although, as I ran a hand through my hair, I realized the helmet was missing.

The sensory experience -- the silky feel of my hair, the slight sound of the material shifting against my body, all of it -- was real. Felt real, anyway.

I took a few ginger, experimental steps. I expected to bump into a very-real-chair in my tiny hotel like room as I moved about, maybe bump up against a wall, the desk, something.

Nothing like that happened.

Damn. It must be simulating the experience of movement, not actually allowing me to move my body.

There was a door on the wall I was facing. I walked over and listened at it.

I could hear the muted sounds of voices in conversation.

I felt a little anxiety. I didn't think this was likely to be a horror game. And in any case, the setting information had included the [SAFE] tag. And this was a tutorial level.

Of course, that tag implied that some settings weren't safe. I'd have to remember that.

What was I even supposed to be doing, though? Did I have goals, or what?

Well, the system latched onto that thought. More words appeared.

OBJECTIVES

Get a drink from the bartender (and drink it) -- 0/1

Complete an encounter -- 0/1

Add one additional party member -- 0/1

I realized that the game seemed to have adjusted its response timing, slightly; there was a little delay this time that made it less jarring. I was actually able to complete the thought before the words formed in my vision. I wondered if it was learning from how its earlier speed had annoyed me.

The list of objectives was reassuring. Nothing like defeat the guardian or duel to the death or avoid the spike pit. So I opened the door, cautiously.

Onto what appeared to be a fairly ordinary-looking dive bar.

There were maybe two dozen people, scattered across a large room; some lounging against the bar, some at sticky-looking tables; some solo, others in small groups. The door I'd just walked out of put me right up against one corner of the bar. I glanced down to see a stack of branded coasters.

The bar was evidently called The Starter Pint.

I glanced up, and saw a familiar face behind the bar.

It was Alex, from my interview. Alex the AI.

He gave me a friendly smile, and came over. "Well, hey. I guess you decided to play, huh? Good to see you, Chloe."

I nodded. "This...this is amazing."

He laughed, agreeably. "Yeah, it's pretty impressive, huh?" He pulled a half-sheet of laminated paper from behind the bar and set it in front of me. "Let me know what I can get you. Every player is entitled to one happy hour special -- but only one, though."

I glanced down at the little menu as he wandered off to help somebody else. It wasn't lost on me that the lettering on the menu was precisely the same shade and font of the system messages that I'd been getting -- it gave it an odd air of authority, which contrasted sharply with the fact that it was printed on sticky, laminated quarter-sheet of paper.

HAPPY HOUR SPECIALS - LIMIT ONE PER CUSTOMER
ALL BEVERAGES COST ONE MINOR FAVOR EACH

Glow Up (+1 Appearance) -- gin, tonic water, rosemary

What That Mouth Do? (+1 Verbal) -- blanco tequila, lime juice, orange liqueur, salt

a god damn sexual Tyrannosaurus (+1 Performance) -- a simple shot of grain alcohol

(Nonalcoholic substitutions available upon request)

A free stat boost. I understood that. And I could only take one.

Well, wait. Maybe not free. What was a minor favor? Did I have money of some kind?

Of course, the game took the question as a prompt.

CURRENCIES
Minor Favors: 5

Evidently I did. Well, given that my stats were currently all ones and twos, one minor favor for a plus one seemed like a good deal.

"Know what you want?" It was Alex, his blandly handsome face earnest, nonchalantly wiping the bar down.

"Uh, still deciding." I paused, and gave him my best smile. "Any advice? One stat that's especially important for winning and I should focus on?"

He laughed, shaking his head. "C'mon, Chloe."

Well, it had been worth a try.

But then, he wasn't the only source of information, was he. I glanced around the room, speculatively. There were a variety of other people here. A few of them were glassy-eyed -- probably looking at their own menus and interfaces, I guessed. A few, like me, were looking around at each other. Everybody was wearing the same skintight black spandex.

Almost everybody had one of the three beverages in front of them, I realized. Mostly gins and tonics, but I watched as one man downed a shot of grain alcohol, grimacing.

"Hey, excuse me. You're new also, I take it?"

I glanced to my other side. There was a man next to me, now, leaning against the bar. He looked to be maybe in his mid forties, a little overweight. His head was shaved bald. But he was giving me a friendly smile.

As I looked his way, giving him a once over, the game popped up some information.

NAME: Ted

ARCHETYPE: TED FROM ACCOUNTING

This is Ted. You know, from Accounting. It's kind of his entire personality. Which is kind of sad. But he's good with money and numbers. Can he win a competition that's mostly about being good with people? I doubt it, but you never know, do you?

I blinked. "Uh, hi. Ted, I'm guessing?"

He nodded, blinking as well. "Yeah, and you're...Chloe? The, um...pop-ups, are a little distracting, huh?"

"They are, aren't they?" I looked him over. He was wearing the same spandex as everyone else, though I didn't think it looked as good on him as it did on me. I noticed he didn't have a drink in front of him, either. "Picked out what you're drinking yet, Ted?"

He shook his head, slowly. "Still trying to decide the best course of action."

I nodded. I respected that. "Any interest in comparing some notes? Might help us get our bearings, as it were." I glanced over at Alex, who was talking to someone else down the bar. "And it doesn't seem like we're on a time limit or anything."

Ted nodded. "Sure. The stats kind of remind me of Dungeons and Dragons. From when I was a kid, you know? But these are weird...what're your statistics? I've got a two in Appearance, ones in Verbal and Performance; is it the same for you?"

Interesting. "No, I've got a two in Verbal. Ones in the other two. Did you start with anything in, uh...I think the game called the section EXPERIENCE? I had zeroes in everything there."

I mentally willed the system to keep from popping the information up in front of me, and blessedly, it obliged.

"All zeroes there for me, too," he said, contemplatively. "Currency-wise, do you have ten Minor Favors and one Major Favor?"

"Huh? No, just five Minor Favors." Wow. He had a lot more money...favors?...than me.

He looked pleased. "Ah, I wondered. Got any Starting Perks?"

"Starting Perks?" Even as I said it, the system was popping up more information.

STARTING PERKS
Chloe's Inspection [C][BASE]
Your interface reveals additional information about game mechanics. Descriptions of other characters, your environment, and similar systems will also be more robust. Gamers like you just have an eye for this sort of thing, y’know?

Any% Completion [C][BASE]
Always on the lookout to set a new record, aren't you? Encounters in which someone finishes faster than they expect will award you one additional point of Dominance or Satisfaction. Encounters that end faster than anyone expects instead award two additional points of Dominance or Satisfaction.

What Do You Think, Chat? [C][BASE]
Once per competition level, you may ask chat a question. Asking the question starts a five minute timer. When the timer reaches zero, you’ll receive an aggregated summary of responses and reactions to your question from viewers in the chatroom of your live stream. Chat may be wrong, uninformed, hostile, sexist, rude, and/or unhelpful. But you knew that already – it’s chat, after all.

I started reading them rapidly, and then became aware that Ted was looking at me, expectantly.

"Uh, one second, sorry. I'm, um, looking at these for the first time now. Didn't even know that I had them until you...ugh. One of them is a pun on my name."

But admittedly, my attention was captured by Any% Completion. That was very interesting.

Ted laughed. "Yeah, the game's got a shitty sense of humor." He looked uncertainly up at the ceiling, and added, uneasily, "Uh, no offense."

There was a ton of information in those descriptions, but I decided that I didn't want to be rude and dwell on them, for now. I needed more information, and Ted had it. "I've got three," I said. "What about you?"

He nodded. "The same. What do yours do?"

I blushed. "Uh...they're kind of complicated to explain." Admittedly, I felt a little odd about sharing the details of the one that was about...well, sex. I figured I'd start with one of the other ones. "I've got this one called Chloe's Inspection..."

But I trailed off. Even as I said it, I saw Ted's eyes go glassy, as if he was reading something.

"Huh. Wow. It, uh, popped up the details for me, but it says it's your perk. Maybe because you wanted to share it?" He paused, clearly finishing reading it. "So...you get more information about systems? That seems really useful."

He looked at me. "One of mine is called Bull Market."

As if on cue, the system obliged with a description.

Bull Market [C][BASE] (This is Ted's starting perk.)
At the end of each level, double your currency totals. Easy to make a killing in a bull market, isn't it?

"Wow. That, uh, seems really strong." I hesitated. "It says your archetype is Ted from Accounting -- is all your stuff, like, finance themed?"

"Yeah, it is. Hey, wait a minute, I can't see your archetype. You must be able to see mine from your perk, huh? That's useful."

"Guess so." I hesitated, thinking of some other games I'd played. "So...that Bull Market thing..."

He raised an eyebrow. "What about it?"

"Well...let's say I gave you all my currency. It'd double mine too, right?"

He laughed, appreciatively. "Clever. I mean, it doesn't say anything to the contrary. Want to give me your money? I'm game."

Now that I'd suggested it, though, I felt a little uneasy. Ted seemed great, but I didn't really know him; he was a stranger. What if he just took my five minor favors? But that was a pretty powerful ability, especially if he could use it for all his friends...

Ted, though, seemed to understand what I was thinking. "Hey, don't worry about it for now. It says at the end of the level anyway, so let's just wait and see, huh? No need to rush into anything."

He was either a stand-up guy, or pretending to be one pretty well. I nodded. "Fair enough. So what else you got?"

"So..." he hesitated. "I've got two other starting perks. One is straightforward enough. It's called Looks Money Status..."

The system helpful pulled up the details.

Looks Money Status [C][BASE] (This is Ted's starting perk.)
Some people believe that wealth, for men, is what beauty is for women. Reality is probably a little more complicated than that, huh? But let's run with it. Add your total Major Favors currency to your Appearance stat.

(Currently, this perk is giving you +1 Appearance.)

I wrinkled my nose at the description. "Okay."

He looked deeply uncomfortable. "The, um...the other is a little...well, you seem like a nice young woman, and I don't want to-"

I appreciated his hesitation, but I wanted all the information I could get. "Ted," I said frankly, deciding to put him out of his misery. "Is it about sex? It's cool, you won't offend me. I've got one that sounds like it's about sex, too."

Ted looked relieved. "O-oh. Great. Yeah, I think it is about sex, although I'm not sure. I thought maybe it was just going to be weird for me." He took a breath. "Mine's called Breadwinner." He winced, waiting for me to react, as I read it.

Breadwinner [C][BASE] (This is Ted's starting perk.)
Everyone wants a man who's a good provider. Encounters with someone who has less total currency than you will reward participants with one additional point of Connection.

Now that was interesting. I could see the similarities between Breadwinner and my own perk, Any% Completion.

It did seem like this game was going to be about sexual encounters, didn't it, I reflected.

"So...what else do you have?"

"Well...there's What Do You Think, Chat?..." I said. I watched as his eyes went a little glassy as he read the description.

And then his brow furrowed. "Sorry...does this imply that we're being livestreamed right now? That seems...a little odd. They would've had to launch the competition, right?"

That was a good point. A really good point.

"Interesting thought. Well, why don't I try to use it?" I focused on the perk.

It...well, activated. That was the only word for what happened. A light blue haze overlaid on my vision, and then...

ASKING CHAT...

The words were flashing in front of me. I tried to think quickly about what to ask. "Uh...what should I get to drink, chat?"

Ted snorted.

A new message flashed up the moment I was done talking.

ERROR: PERK IS DISABLED DURING LEVEL ZERO. USER WILL BE AWARDED ONE ADDITIONAL USE ON LEVEL ONE.

"It...gave me an error," I said, bemused. "It says it's disabled during the Tutorial level. But I think the system is compensating me, or something? It's giving me an additional use on level one instead."

"Huh. Weird. What about your last ability?"

I grimaced and was the one to hesitate, now. I felt bad, given how forthcoming Ted had been. Talking about sex with him didn't bother me .

But the way Any% Completion was worded did. Telling Ted might change his expectations.

Fortunately, Ted misinterpreted my hesitation, and smiled, reassuringly, obviously not wanting to make a much younger woman uncomfortable. "Ah, right. It's about sex, huh? All good, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

I liked him more and more. He really did seem like a good guy.

And then he heaved a sigh. "Y'know, this is all weird. I think I need that drink. Time to make a decision. I wonder how common stat boosts are...And do you think it's better to focus on one stat, or to be well-rounded?"

I was glad Ted had come to talk to me. A good guy and a fellow analytical mind.

"For you, I think it depends on how common Major Favors are," I said, thoughtfully. "If they're relatively common, it probably makes sense for you to get one of the other stats; that perk will give you a ton of Appearance eventually anyway if you manage your currency right. I mean, if you're going to double the Major Favors you have every level..."

He nodded, following the logic. "Good thinking. And I started with one, after all, so they probably aren't so rare," he said, reasonably. "So that means Verbal or Performance for me, I guess. Ugh, I hate tequila. I'll just do the shot. What're you gonna take?"

I considered the menu again.

HAPPY HOUR SPECIALS - COCKTAILS LIMIT ONE PER CUSTOMER
ALL BEVERAGES COST ONE MINOR FAVOR EACH

Glow Up (+1 Appearance) -- gin, tonic water, rosemary

What That Mouth Do? (+1 Verbal) -- blanco tequila, lime juice, orange liqueur, salt

a god damn sexual Tyrannosaurus (+1 Performance) -- it's just a shot of grain alcohol

(Nonalcoholic substitutions available upon request)

"Verbal," I decided. "I think I'll try playing to my strengths, at least for now."

We both turned towards the bar, glancing expectantly towards Alex. He saw us looking, and walked over.

"What can I get you guys?"

The sheer normalcy of that question, juxtaposed against the facts of the situation, made me laugh. Alex and Ted both gave me questioning looks.

"Sorry, sorry. This is just so fucking strange. Yes, let's give our drink orders to the AI bartender in this virtual reality game to raise our stats," I said. "I'll take a What That Mouth Do? please, I guess. Ugh. Did you name these drinks, Alex? Because I have feedback."

He shook his head. "No, the system handles all that."

"The system?" Ted looked interested. "So you're not part of the system?"

I realized that, unlike Ted, I hadn't focused on Alex yet to see what information the game would give me. I did so now.

NAME: Alex

ARCHETYPE: BARTENDER [AI] [VENDOR] [HELPFUL]

Alex is one of many AI constructs intended to assist players through the competition. He's about as smart as you, but knows more than you. He also probably has better judgment than you, because he's not sporting a brain stem evolved over several millennia of avoiding tigers and chasing wildebeests. Try to be nice to him so he continues to be helpful.

"The system made me, but no, I'm not running the show," Alex said. "Just a participant." He put my drink on the bar.

I took it and inspected it. It looked like...well, like a margarita.

"What about for you, Ted?"

"Uh...give me the shot of grain alcohol."

"One sexual tyrannosaurus, coming right up." That only took Alex a moment to pour.

"That'll be one minor favor each, you two."

As Alex said the words, a little -1 floated briefly in the corner of my vision, and then the game gave me a popup.

Minor Favors: 4

"Cheers," Ted said. We clinked glasses.

He took the shot with a grimace.

I sipped at my margarita. It tasted exactly like a margarita; the citrus tang, the alcoholic bite, the saltiness, all of it. A pretty good margarita.

Ted had finished his drink. I stared at him. "Did your stat go up by one?"

He nodded. "Yeah, it's at two now."

"Do you feel any different?" There wasn't any change that I could see.

He shrugged. "Not, uh...not really. Maybe our stats are bad? Like it's a scale from 1 to 100, or something. So going from 1 to 2 doesn't matter much."

I ruminated on that thought. I wondered what the Performance stat even really did. What any of them did. What kind of scale they were on.

"So...you, uh, got to that...facility, they have, today?" Ted glanced around as he asked the question, as if he was worried we might be overhead.

"Yeah. I flew to San Francisco from Seattle." I took another sip of margarita.

Ted nodded. "I live in St. Louis, flew in today, too."

"...Are you married, Ted?" I tried to avoid making it sound suggestive.

But I wanted to know. Eventually I was going to have to test how the actual mechanics of the game worked. See about Any% Completion. And I wanted to test it with someone I liked and trusted. Ted was the only candidate so far, and I didn't have any desire to be a homewrecker.

As I thought about it, I had the system pull up the description for me again.

Any% Completion [C][BASE]
Always on the lookout to set a new record, aren't you? Encounters in which someone finishes faster than they expect will award you one additional point of Dominance or Satisfaction. Encounters that end faster than anyone expects instead award two additional points of Dominance or Satisfaction.

With a little practice under my belt, the blue floating text in my field of vision was less jarring.

I wondered what the wording around expectations really implied.

"No," Ted was saying. "Divorced."

I nodded my understanding. "Gotcha." Good enough for me, I decided.

Ted's mind was obviously headed the same direction as mine. "You, uh, saw the Objectives, I assume." Ted asked the question, quietly.

"Yeah..." I pulled them back up.

OBJECTIVES

Get a drink from the bartender (and drink it) -- 0/1

Complete an encounter -- 0/1

Add one additional party member -- 0/1

"Your shot counted as the drink, right?" I was still drinking mine.

"Yeah, it's marked as complete, now. I'm wondering," Ted said, his voice even, "if you want to work together on the other two."

I thought about his Breadwinner perk. A point of Connection sounded good; was a good compliment to the Dominance -- or Satisfaction -- I'd get from my perk. And Ted seemed like a decent guy. Not really my type, but a decent guy.

"How do you think we form a party?" I half-expected something to pop up in my field of view when I focused on the idea. But nothing did.

Ted was at a loss, too. "Dunno. Maybe we need to tackle them in order?"

I nodded. "So...how do you think we complete an encounter, then?" I had my hypothesis, of course, but I didn't want to come on too strong.

He sighed. Looked at me, eyes direct. "C'mon. You think it's about sex, right? Well, so do I." He glanced over my shoulder. "Look."

We both watched as two people -- a man and a woman -- laughing, got up and walked to one of the doors in the wall, near the door I'd come out of.

I nodded. "Right. Shall we?"

He sighed. "I dunno, Chloe. You're...well, you've gotta be twenty years younger than me, right? You sure you don't want to find someone else..."

I held up a hand to silence him, and downed the rest of my drink. I checked my stats.

STATISTICS
Appearance: 1
Verbal: 3
Performance: 1
Sexual Prowess: 3

Sure enough, Verbal had gone up by one. But I wasn't focused on that right now.

"First of all, I'm a consenting, twenty-three-year-old adult, Ted. Just like you. Second of all, you seem like a nice guy. And you seem smart. We've evidently got to team up with people to finish the Tutorial; smart and nice fits the bill from my perspective, all your starting perks seem strong...and finally, this isn't real anyway, right?"

"I mean, right...I think you seem smart and nice and all that too, but..." He didn't sound convinced.

So I grabbed him by his arm and started dragging him toward the room. He followed, reluctantly.

"Ted. When was the last time you went on a date?"

"Uh...not...not in a long time," he mumbled, embarrassed. "I've been busy ever since the divorce, and I haven't had time-"

I interrupted him again as I opened the door, dragging us inside. I was on a mission, now. "Right, okay. So are you just nervous? Because I'm starting to think you don't find me attractive."

He flushed. "N-no, that's not it, I--"

"Great. So what's the holdup?" We were in the room, now. He closed the door behind him. I turned to face him.

"It...it's just been a while, okay? And this is...weird..." But Ted was staring at my body in the spandex suit, now. I could feel his eyes on me.

I nodded, trying to project gentle understanding, and slowly pushed him onto the bed. "So we'll take things slow."

He nodded his agreement.

ENCOUNTER STARTED.

The words flashed -- briefly, and somewhat less obtrusively -- across my vision. Ted blinked; I was sure he was probably seeing the same message.

I ignored them. I had figured this was what counted as an encounter.

I was getting wet.

Partly, it was from the way I was in the driver's seat. Ted was smart. Kind. Obviously accomplished. He'd been married. He was older than me, so much more experienced, but it was clear I was in control of what was happening.

But it was also partly excitement. This was the game. I was finally going to get to see how that Any% Completion perk worked. And...it had been a while, he'd said.

I wondered how fast I could get him off. Faster than he expected, I bet.

I stood in front of him. Deliberately, I lowered my gaze from his eyes, moving mine downward.

"The suits don't leave a lot to the imagination, do they," I murmured, staring. I could see the outline of his cock incredibly clearly through the black material. A damp spot was forming at the tip.

"I-I guess not," he whispered. He was transfixed, staring at my body.

In a fluid motion, I reached out and unzipped his suit down to the waist. I followed the zipper down with my body, ending kneeling between his legs.

I tugged the material of the suit down further, out of the way, revealing his cock.

It was about average, in my experience. A bit smaller than Ryan's, maybe.

Rock hard.

Really veiny.

And already leaking everywhere. I felt my clit throb, as if in sympathy.

"Mm," I said, looking up at him. "You're so hard for me already."

I traced a finger, delicately, from the tip of his cock, through his precum, and down his shaft.

He let out a little, breathless groan. "J-just, uh...go slow, okay? Like you said?"

I nodded at him, bit my lip, and said, "Whatever you want...I mean, you've got a lot more experience than me."

It wasn't the kind of thing I'd normally say, but then, Ted was quite a bit older than the guys I'd been with. It was probably true. The words had felt right.

And it was clear that, from Ted's perspective, it had been a hot thing to say. He moaned, and his cock twitched against my finger, oozing more precum.

Meeting his eyes, I wrapped one hand around his cock and gave him a lingering, thorough stroke from tip to base.

"Am I...doing it right?" I put a little innocent, coy curiosity into my voice.

"Oh, god...y-yes..." Ted gritted the words out. I could see, behind his eyes, a frantic, barely controlled arousal.

I giggled. "Your precum's getting everywhere, all over my hand." And I gave him another long, slow stroke.

"Fuck, that feels so good," he muttered.

"Did your ex-wife not do this sort of thing for you?" Again, I just rattled off the words without thinking about them too much.

And again, Ted let out a groan. I felt his length jump in my hand. "N-no, she...she..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

"Mmm, no? I wonder what she'd say, if she could see us? This young hottie between your legs, jacking you off..."

I gave him another pump, a little faster now.

"S-she...she never...really liked..."

I could tell he was trying to keep control of himself and talk to me -- and doing both while I was working him was proving to be too much.

"She never liked what? Pumping your cock, like I am? Is that why you're leaking all over my hands?" I asked the question innocently.

"Chloe, s-slow down...or I'll..." I recognized the sounds of someone trying to hold off an orgasm.

"But...but I want to go faster." There was a plaintive whine in my voice that I hadn't meant to put there, but again, just felt right.

And then I started pumping him faster. "I don't know why she wouldn't take care of this cock, I'm having so much fun. It's making my little pussy wet, Ted," I whispered the words wickedly,

I didn't even complete another three strokes before Ted let out a moan, bucked his hips, and a jet of cum -- one he'd clearly been holding back for a little while -- sprayed across my torso. It took me by surprise.

"Mmm, that's it --" My words turned into a moan as the second rope hit me in the face.

I kept pumping, and he kept cumming. It was like the man was backed up. But eventually, the ropes became spurts, became dribbles, became a slow ooze. I stared at his spent cock.

"God..." Ted collapsed on the bed with a depleted sigh.

ENCOUNTER COMPLETE.

ENCOUNTER LIMIT OF [1] REACHED.

---

Ted was motionless on the bed, his breathing slowing; I had laid down next to him on my back, facing the ceiling. I'd pulled up my stats, and was staring at them, speculatively.

STATISTICS
Appearance: 1
Verbal: 3
Performance: 1
Sexual Prowess: 3

The higher Verbal stat had made me better at saying the right things. I was sure of it. There was just no other explanation, the words had just sort of...come to me.

As if on cue, the game helpfully threw up more words in front of me.

Verbal represents your aptitude for saying the right thing, in the right way, in the right moment. This includes your affinity for dirty talk, saying the thing that gets someone in the mood, arouses them, and then gets them off. Why get your hands -- or any other body parts -- dirty, when a high enough Verbal score can get the job done for you?

Ted ran a hand over his bald head. "Fuck, Chloe. That was...amazing. God, it's been a long time since anybody talked to me like that, you..."

He let out a brief, appreciative laugh, as if realizing something. "...You knew just what to say, huh? Almost like you've got a couple extra points in a stat called Verbal."

I nodded, wryly. "Yeah, that's what the game just told me about the stat, basically."

"Hmm. It's not offering me stat explainers; that must be your starting perk. Check your EXPERIENCE, then. What'd you get from that...encounter?" Ted's voice was curious.

I pulled it up.

EXPERIENCE
Dominance: 3
Satisfaction: 0
Connection: 1
Overall Score: 0

Huh. Interesting.