Tutorial Rewrite 1

By  this point, it’s really only a matter of days until I either starve to  death or get killed in some desperate attempt to avoid the  aforementioned. Personally, though, I’m leaning towards just starving to  death. Worse ways to croak and all that.

More than  that, I’ve got to admit that I’m really a bit surprised that I lasted  this long. Sure, I failed my homelessness-speedrun any%, but what can  you do? Maybe I’ll at least place somewhat high in the 17-year-old  category, assuming such a thing exists. Then again, if you want to go  even more in-depth, maybe there’s even a category for men, and then the lightweight category.

Yes, all things considered, maybe I’ll at least snag first place in the loser-ex-pro gamer-estranged-son-with-criminal-record category. Then again, there probably aren’t too many of those running around on these streets.

…Are there?

Ahh, who  knows. I just feel cold. When did I last feel my toes? They don’t wiggle  anymore. If I tried to stand up, maybe they’d even snap off like  icicles. There must be someone interested in watching that, right? A kid  or two I could swindle some money off? Yeah. Somewhere, maybe. But, as  is, I can’t even really think straight.

It’s cold.  Snowflakes have started settling on my ragged clothes. They’re the ones I  was arrested in, so they still have a little bit of his blood on them.  Damned hack. I hope he got to the hospital too late for them to properly  reconfigure his arm. If he’s out of the game, that would mean I’m  technically still World Champion.

…Assuming some other perky young colt hasn’t popped up in these past six months to take back the title.

The thought makes the snow settling atop my body feel even heavier.

I can’t feel  my arms anymore but in some half-dying thirst for answers, I shuffle  over a little and shove my bare hand in my pocket. I can’t really feel  anything in there, but I can hear a few coins cling together. It’s not  much.

My stomach makes an all-too-familiar sound. But it’s not like that’s new. And, in these times…

Even if I  bought myself an entire cake with these coins, I still wouldn’t live to  see next week. I’m pretty sure of that. So, really, what’s the point?  I’m fine with dying. I’ve been dying for six months now. What does it  matter if that darkness comes in a month or an hour? It still comes,  like an undodgeable homing missile. Either way, I’m screwed, so why not  do something with it?

Actually  standing up is a different matter. My knees make weird crunching noises  but they don’t feel like anything. My hands are stiff and cold, like  unwashed carrots. I bet they’d snap off just as easily, too. Standing up  actually takes all the effort left in me, and it leaves me panting and  heaving, choking out puffs of white smoke. As I finally stand up, I can  feel my legs tremble and my back is as hunched as ever. Right. So far so  good.

At my feet lies a backpack containing what little things I have. A towel. A can opener. A few magnets. Stuff like that.

Looking at it, I feel a sudden burst of disgust slither its way through me.

And after  staring at it for a full five seconds, I decide to leave it behind. I  won’t need it. On my way out of the snow-caked alleyway, I pause at a  drainage pipe and stick my hand into the mouth of it, pulling out a  small bag of tiny, cloudy but transparent crystals as I do. I’m lucky I  was smart enough to never start on this stuff, but it’s still a good  bribe for the people hooked on it. They never say no.

Limping my way  out of the alley fully, I spy up and down the street. Lots of people  walking by. Smiling. Chattering. Dressed nice and snug. Fashionably, not  that I’ve ever been able to discern that sort of stuff. All I can see  is that the fabric is good. For a minute or so, I scan the people  walking by, ensuring that I don’t recognise anyone. To stay on the safe  side, I bundle my scarf closer to my face, covering most of it. The snow  lining the creases doesn’t melt when it meets my cheeks. The cold of  the snow doesn’t hurt anymore. Content with my preparations, I sneak  out.

I know this  city better than I ever did before all this. It’s big, but it makes  sense in its places. That’s how I know where the nearest internet cafe  is.

The sky is  dark, only lighted by the snow hovering down. It’s the kind of night  where all you want is to lie down and snuggle into your blanket and pass  out of all of this without having to think too much about anything. But  the world has never been that merciful.

Passing by the obnoxiously happy pedestrians, I make my way to the Point and Click, a cafe that may not have the cheapest rates, but does have something much more valuable.

I stop just  outside the front door, stiff hand hovering over the cold metal handle.  My eyes glue themselves to a sign out front. To make up for my lack of  glasses, I squint as best as I can to make out the words.

<Closed for New Year's Eve—See you next year!>

How cheeky.  That’s today? Makes sense, though I didn’t think about it much.  Nonetheless, the brothers who own the place both live in the apartment  just above, so without much hesitation I press the doorbell by the side  of the door, the sound of the chime echoing through the store and all  the way up to the apartment above. A light flickers on in the apartment  before travelling down into the cafe. I quickly take a step back, just  in time to watch the door fly open. “Yes? How may I-,” his eyes fall  down to me and any curiosity and well-meaning dies out. “Oh, it’s one of  you. Listen, can’t you read the sign? No Abierta—not  open. How hard is that to understand? And P-S, no, I’m not giving you a  free hand out, so you might as well pick up your little poor-boy  satchel and—”

I present the coins.

He gives an exaggerated sigh and rolls his eyes. “Buddy, we’re closed. It’s not that difficult of a concept to—”

I shuffle around in my inventory.

I present the little baggie of crystal meth.

His eyes shine up. “Well…” He licks his lips. “I can always make an exception for a friend, can’t I?”

Proper item  chosen. +5 intimacy gained with Co-Owner of Internet Cafe. Friendship  with Co-Owner of Internet Cafe has increased from Mutual Resentment to Codependency Through Recreational Mineral-Collecting. +20 EXP. 3825 EXP needed until next level up. Access to Internet Cafe Point and Click gained.

After he’s  done his due by glancing around to check if anyone saw our successful  interaction, he shows me his open palm and I deposit the little baggie  in it. As soon as he has the item in hand, he stuffs it into his pocket  and opens up the door. “Step right on in.” Right as I’m about to do just  that, he jams his foot in my way. “And, just so we’re clear, you aren’t  here for a week-long sleep-over or a full-course New Year’s Eve dinner.  You play your games, I have my fun, and then you’re out, get it? I really don’t want to have you tracking dirt and lice and rat  eggs and whatever it is your sort carries in here, you get me?”

A curt nod is  all he needs, so that’s all I give. The warmth inside the cafe hurts.  It’s stinging something awful and bringing a fair bit more attention to  the fact that the insides of my ragged shoes and my ragged clothes and  my ragged scarf isn’t wet from molten snow alone. Every step hurts more  than the last but I didn’t come here to live.

Once the  co-owner takes his leave to go enjoy himself, I sit down by one of the  many open computers. I log on. This is the one I always use, so it  already has Tendrils of Magic and Madness downloaded.

Five years  ago, it was the most popular MMORPG on the market. Every single lobby  and every single server was always filled to the brim. Every item the  game had to offer was on the market within only weeks of the game’s  launch. And still, it kept itself fresh. The in-game economy,  miraculously, didn’t collapse for several years, and even when it did,  it did so gracefully enough that I could keep up even when most people  couldn’t.

But that was no surprise. I was, after all, the greatest TMM player in the world. Not just in the South Korean lobbies, not just in the Asia server, but in the entire world.

Entire groups  of other players could face me and I wouldn’t even blink. It wasn’t a  matter of levels—that’s not how TMM was designed. Skill was everything,  and I had all of it. Secret easter eggs, hidden bonus levels, ultra-rare  items… I knew things the wiki hadn’t even touched on yet.

I was, in every sense, unrivalled.

Whenever there  was a tournament, I would join basically only as a spectator. The other  players would all form parties and do combat in various ways, and then  the final winner would face me. I didn’t need to prove myself. Everyone  knew already. That’s how it was, and that’s how it should have stayed.

If  LetsFraternizeTogether had only known his place, it wouldn’t have come  to this. None of it would have happened. Really, it’s all his fault for  putting his nose where it didn’t belong and getting so damn invested in a  stupid video game.

But enough about him. Games like these cycle through WC’s like toilet paper, so I’m sure he’s been dethroned long since.

And now, the  game has finally loaded. The music is the same as ever but the game load  screen is some sort of holiday variant I don’t recognise. I don’t like  it. But whatever, you know? It’s not important.

The game opens and I type in my username and password, ThatGentleNight2, make sure not to press save password, and press enter. Another loading screen.

<If you touch the tentacles of a Minos you will take insanity damage until you recover with an incantation.>

Okay. Or you  can use the exploit where you clip through the Minos until it goes into  the floor and is never seen again and the game forgets you’re supposed  to be taking insanity damage from it. Up to you.

The screen cycles a few times. Server: Asia. Lobby: South Korea 1. Enter.

It takes a  while for the potato of a computer to render the lobby, something that  took my old computer Zeus a mere millisecond. And there, just as  beautiful as the day I lost him, is my beautiful character. Massive  black wings that could only be gotten through the paid gacha during a  Halloween event. Tentacle effects that shoot out every three seconds  that I got for reaching the highest Job category of Old One Oracle. And then the Robes of Endless Fabric, Quasar Staff Manimous, Tendril Crown of Black Silver… Back  in the day, just one of these items could bring about a huge bidding  war within the entire Asia server. But, obviously, what I’m wearing  right now is only for show. I do have more powerful equipment, but it  doesn’t look as cool, so I only wear it for the real battles.

The last time that happened, though, was when—....

When…

—Well, it  isn’t important. What’s important is that I missed this character. Long  ebony black hair, icy blue eyes like limpid tears… the whole package. If  I looked like this in real life, I wouldn’t have any problems. The  girls would be all over me, and the guys would all be jealous, and—

<FreshBiscuitsOhoy: lol what look at that guy>

<FreshBiscuitsOhoy: whats with the huge getup did u loose a bet>

<YoureMomFuqs33: is that the quazar staff? didnt that get outdated like five months ago with the new patch?>

<FreshBiscuitsOhoy: yeh thats the staff that got nerfed like a little bitch lol>

I stare at the screen. Nerfed?

<JonathanBanks[ADMIN]: It’s not nice to make fun of returning players, FreshBiscuitsOhoy and YoureMomFuqs33. Welcome back, ThatGentleNight2! We’re always happy to have people pick the game back up ^^<3<3>

Blink, blink. I can feel my rotting teeth bite into my flaking lower lip. Slowly, I place my fingers to the keyboard.

<You:  this is aktually the best gear in the game that i spent five hundred  hours collecting and its super strong and probs way stronger than u  guyses stuff>

I lean back in my seat. There. Roasted.

<FreshBiscuitsOhoy:  oh ok ok so thats how you want to go geezer huh well **** you ok you  ***** *** punk my gear is actually super strong and im in the top 100  players in asia i could whoop your *** anytime huh yeah exactly>

<FreshBiscuitsOhoy has been issued a warning>

<JonathanBanks[ADMIN]: Easy on the language, FreshBiscuitsOhoy. This is a game for everyone. There is no need for harsh language.>

Okay. Alright.  You know what? That’s it. Six months ago I would have let him go like a  cerberus ignoring the barking of a chihuahua but not now. I’ve needed  to cut loose a little. My fingers have thawed, so I am all ready to go.

<ThatGentleNight2 has challenged FreshBiscuitsOhoy to a duel!>

I lean back. If he was clever, he’d just surrender right now and avoid going gentle into that dark night…

<FreshBiscuitsOhoy has accepted ThatGentleNight2’s challenge!>

But,  obviously, you can’t expect that sort of wisdom from some no-name  standard username peanut who can’t even recognise the former ruler of  this game. Everyone needs to learn a lesson sometimes. As they say, all  kids need a good whooping to understand their place in the world.

I place my  fingers against the keyboard and grab the mouse. The movements are  coming to me easily now. This guy doesn’t even have any flashy effects  or mounts or wings. He’s an obvious pushover, but still too stupid to do  the simple courtesy of checking my level before accepting the  challenge.

A grin rises to my lips for the first time in several months. It hurts. But it feels good.

A circle arena has formed around my avatar and FreshBiscuitsOhoy, separating us from the common rabble. A counter from 3 to 2 to 1 counts  down in front of the screen and I ready myself. The second it hits that  fateful 0, my brain shifts into gear completely and my character bursts  to life with the press of only a few buttons, flinging himself across  the screen and twisting and bringing down his gorgeous summoned black  onyx sword on the opposing avatar who is—

…No longer there?

I blink at the  screen. That’s not right. Where in the world did he go? My brows furrow  which hurts but I don’t have time to care as my character flings  himself into another burst of movement, flying around the borders of the  duel circle like a swallow, here and there. But he just isn’t around  anymore. Did he turn invisible? Can they do that now? What the hell is  going on?!

My teeth grit themselves. What a coward. What a complete and utter coward.

I pause in my frantic running just enough to type in the chat,

<You: wher th **** ar u cowrd>

And just as I  click send, something smashes into the side of my character and hurls  him across the map where he crashes into the invisible barrier around  the duel circle. I only just have time to gawk at how my health  instantly slips down into the red before my fingers move on their own  and narrowly toss my character out of the way of another horribly quick  strike. It’s so fast I can barely see it. Is that a hammer he’s  wielding? A war hammer?! This  is a game about magic and sorcery! Why in the world would you even use a  blunt weapon when you can just as easily summon weapons to—

He used a  skill. I don’t know which. It looked like his character tossed a small  pig plushie at my character and somehow that was enough to stun me and  then he caved my character’s head in with his hammer and that was it.

The screen turns dark and monochrome and a single word overlays the whole screen, printed in horrible oversaturated red: DEAD.

<Duel is Over—FreshBiscuitsOhoy is the winner!>

In my head, I can picture the screen on his end. A big green letterbox shouts WIN! And a spray of confetti erupts across the screen and all of the surrounding gawkers would use the Cheer and the Jubilee emotes  and spam the chat with astonishment and adoration and nobody could ever  face you no matter how many they were because just one of you would  always be enough to face them all, no matter what, no matter when.

But that’s not what’s on my screen. Just a big, red, DEAD. That’s all.

The chat is being spammed alright, but it’s all just the same thing.

<FreshBiscuitsOhoy: gg ez>

<YoureMomFuqs33: lmaooo what a pushover>

<YoureMomFuqs33: GG ez for real lol>

<FreshBiscuitsOhoy: shoulda stayd offline>

<JohnathanBanks[ADMIN]: Come on, have some sportsmanship. Good match, both of you! Very interesting techniques, ThatGentleNight2. If you grind a bit I’m sure you can have a great rematch! ^^>

<YoureMomFuqs33: yeah if he grinds a bit on MY NUTS LMAOOOO>

<YoureMomFuqs33 has been Banned for Foul Language>

<FreshBiscuitsOhoy: admin vs user admin win gg ez>

<FreshBiscuitsOhoy has been Temporarily Muted>

I stare at the  chat. After a few minutes, it goes silent. Since FreshBiscuitsOhoy got  muted I can’t even challenge him to a rematch. If I look out the window,  it’s completely dark now. It feels almost like the world is holding its  breath. The time is 23:57. What kind of loser would spend this time on  New Year's Eve in an online game, fighting randos?

I grind my molars.

Once I  respawn, I quickly check the rankings. I must just have been unfortunate  and ran into some sort of underground legend, or some secret master.  Maybe he was even an NPC hidden-boss or something.

…No, that last one’s a bit too unlikely.

But he could be a secretly super high levelled player. I mean, how else would he just—just do that to me? I’m the number one player! If anyone’s doing the curb stomping, it’s me! That’s how it works, and that’s how it is, and…

And…

…And he isn’t even in the top 100. Not for the world. Not for Asia. Not even for South Korea.

He isn’t even in the top 100 for the server.

Neither am I. My ranking is very clear. It’s right there, written in bold, purple text.

<Your Ranking: #12 494>

Twelve-thousand four hundred-ninety fourth.

And what of my  rival, nemesis and enemy? Maybe I was a fool to have hope, to think  he’d follow my footsteps and sink into the despair I feel, but…

He’s #84’s  internationally. It’s not much. He used to be #1. But now he’s 84th. At  least, unlike a certain someone, he’s actually on there.

<LetsFraternizeTogether’s Ranking: #84 Worldwide, #20 Asia, #2 South Korea.>

He’s doing well.

I feel the  buzz in my ears intensify, my vision blurring and blotting, my breathing  becoming even raspier, my joints aching and creaking, my flesh scraping  together, and the fever more pronounced than ever. It hurts. Everything  hurts. My face feels hot with everything that can make a face hot but  it won’t seep out through tears. Had I always been this pathetic? Is  this something new or was I always destined to be this sort of  worthless, pathetic loser? My head is on fire. I want to die. Maybe I’m  already dead. Maybe I died six months ago. Maybe this is Hell. That’d be  better. At least Hell is perpetual. I’d rather be burnt than tormented  like this.

Outside, far away, I can hear a bell begin to ring the ceremonial 33 times as a thousand thousand people chant in unison.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

I wonder if my parents and sister are out there among them. Do they miss me? If it were me, I’d be happy I was gone.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

I mean,  really. There’s nothing to miss in the least. No skill, no trait, no  dream of any value whatsoever. I wouldn’t be surprised if they hate me.

Four.

Three.

Nothing to  miss is almost an overstatement. What is there to miss in a void of a  person like me? Certainly not my charming personality, or my looks, or  my smarts, because God knows I do not have any of those. I am, by all  means, nothing.

Two.

Nothing at all.

One.

And nothingness isn’t something you miss.

Zero!

And as the  world outside the internet cafe windows lights up with cheers for a  better year and fireworks and music, the inside of the cafe suddenly  lights up as well. But not by any fireworks, no, rather, by a floating,  shining text box straight out of a video game.

<Congratulations on

being invited to the tutorial!

Sir Lee Ho-Jae.>

…What?

Oh, I see, so this is the light at the end of the tunnel you see when you die. Makes sense.

—No, hang on a  sec, what the heck do you mean by tutorial?! Are you telling me my  entire life was just the lobby period you spend before you even start  the tutorial proper? Is this the menu screen?!

Okay, okay,  let’s just relax for a moment. This isn’t real. Actually, it’s not too  bad. I’m dying, so I’m obviously hallucinating. Great, I really felt  like dying right now! Wonderful. Glad someone up there’s listening for  once.

Which button do I press to die?

<Would you like to

enter the tutorial?>

<Yes/No>

…Well, if it means dying, then sure. Why the heck not? Take me there, ferryman.

A second passes.

…Oh, do I, uh,  have to press it manually? Talk about outdated models for spiritual  death, sheesh. Unbefitting of a dead man, I casually press the Yes button, and in that very second, a third screen pops up.

<Select the tutorial difficulty level.>

<[Easy]>

<[Normal]>

<[Hard]>

<[Hell]>

Well, now  you’re just asking the obvious. Clearly, a pro gamer has to prove  himself even in the afterlife. What do you expect me to do if I go to  Hell and LetsFraternizeTogether chose the Hell difficulty and is doing much better than me? I’d try to  off myself and go to whatever afterlife lies beyond the afterlife!  Superhell would be my one and only fate. Can’t have that, can I?

The answer is so simple I almost feel like chuckling. Instead, I just casually press the [Hell] button. Afterlife, here I co-,