Approximately ten people had already gathered outside the gate. Everyone stood watching in a loose huddle.
Split evenly, the group of players was made up of gamers and athletes. I was taken aback. Most of the faces of both groups I recognized.
It wasn’t hard to tell the difference between the two groups. The gamers were either toned but thin, or pudgy. Not everyone took physical health seriously. The athletes looked, well, athletic.
Three gamers caught my eye immediately. They were at a level that I only dreamed of. Vector was the leader of a professional gaming team call Clan Craze. Easily spotted by his blood red eyebrows, he seemed to be the guy the other gamers congregated to.
Treetop knew Vector from competing against him from another team. As his name implied, he was a tall, plain looking guy, with a brown mop top for hair. He was a bit of a wild card. He had plenty of talent but was known for not taking things seriously. It was the insane things he pulled off that made him a pro.
The third gamer’s name was Drool. She wasn’t named that because of any odd saliva habits, at least not of her own. Her pink hair was always back in wild waves, and her eyes slanted down like an exotic animal. This wasn’t just another massively talented gamer chick that totally cheated by distracting guys with her looks. She was the gamer chick famously known for starting the Male Fail videos.
I immediately rebuked myself for my sweaty-palmed reaction when spotting her.
When she first went pro she had to face off against one of the world’s best male players. She flirted with him, causing him to lose. Okay, flirting was an understatement. It was excessive flirting that caused the guy to melt like warm butter. She crushed him and mocked him extensively. His career was never able to recover from it.
Folding my arms, I stood back and watched. Joining them might have its benefits. Guest appearances were always welcome and my fans were probably enjoying the surprise. I couldn’t allow my channel to become about who I hung out with instead of what I achieved. Instead of a gamer, I would turn into a commentator, or worse, a groupie. Commentators were respectable enough and experts in their own right. That just wasn’t for me. But groupies were just famous by association, not because of their own merits.
They were my competition. If I outplayed them, and people saw it, my fan count would surge wildly. It was likely they had millions of people watching them right now.
Following their gaze, I saw a lone player marching up to a boar as tall as a large dog. Someone had beaten me to the first enemy.
The bronze hatchet he gripped seemed rather small. Thick cotton would be the only protection he had against the boar if things went wrong. With a strong build, he was definitely an athlete.
This would be a good test of the game’s artificial intelligence and difficulty. Newbie monster or not, learning as much about Freedom as possible was essential.
He paced toward the boar, building tempo. His forearm bulged.
Turning to meet him, the boar backed up with a snort. It faced off with the player, its tusks at the ready.
Pulling the hatchet over his head, the man attacked first in a big, downward swing, connecting sickly on the back of its neck.
I cringed at the terrified screech.
The player relaxed his grip.
What? Is he stupid?
The boar charged forward, easily lifting the player onto its back. It had no problem carrying his weight as it jerked its tusks back and forth.
My gut wrecked. His legs were being torn apart.
Everything about the situation was wrong. New player towns always had easy creatures to introduce players to the world. I knew as I watched, this common feature had been completely tossed out by the Freedom developers. Someone was having fun at our expense. This boar possessed the same strength and ferocity as its real life counterpart.
There was no damage indication that mentioned how many HP he was losing. That wasn’t a big surprise. I guessed I would have to be in someone’s group to get any feedback from the game system as to how much damage was being done.
“Come on! Let’s help him!” A voice rumbled from the crowd. A short black guy with massive shoulders shot out from the group toward the player. His bronze studded club looked much more durable than the losing player’s hatchet.
Aroused from the shock of the moment, I hurried after him, spurred on by the realization there was no pain limiter.
The attacking player was tossed from the boar's back, landing motionless. Only the sound of us sprinting towards it had stopped the beast from turning back to tear into him anew.
Despite the head start, I had nearly caught up to the man who had rallied everyone to help.
Realizing that the boar’s size and strength matched real-world physics, I rounded my approach. How would I fight a huge boar in real life? Seriously?! With drones or an exoskeleton. Never with a pointy bronze stick.
In Virtual Reality, it was common for game developers to take liberty with exaggerating a monster’s size and look, even if it wasn’t a difficult creature. This beast really didn’t look that impressive compared to creatures common to games, but we weren’t fighting an average game monster. This was more accurately a simulation of what it would be like to face a 300 lb boar in real life.
If I was logged in using normal virtual reality that linked directly to my mind, this would have been easy. Even with a low-level character, I would have made short work of it. Controlling a game character with your mind is completely different than controlling it with your own body. I wasn’t coordinated enough to have the confidence to face it one on one.
The boar had completely forgotten its first target. It charged our way. Blood streamed from the wound on its neck. It didn’t slow down.
As we neared its charge, it was on course for the man in front of me. I slowed my pace to attack from the flank as soon as they met, hoping to relieve him if he got into trouble.
There was no slowing by the athletic black man in the lead. His pace was too fast. I had a bad feeling the boar was about to have a second victim.
The man stopped suddenly, the quad muscles of his leg bulging. He danced to the side and twisted his torso, clobbering the boar as it passed. There was an ugly jerk of the boar’s body from the impact to its ribs.
That did not go how I expected. His blow staggered the beast momentarily, batting it to the side, but it kept going.
I struggled to stop. The beast was now passing me by. My plan had taken me out of its path. Turning, it was time to play catch up.
It now headed for the rest of the players who had followed behind me.
Vector, Treetop, and Drool were grouped together. Facing it head on, Vector stood his ground, ready to lunge forward with his sword. The other two had swords drawn at either side, making a human wall.
The blade shot forward. His aim was true. As if running into a twig, the boar pummeled through the attack and then leveled all three of them. With a snap, I heard Vector’s leg break at the shin. His other leg flew up and hit Treetop in the back of the head.
Drool was the only one that remained unscathed. She had jumped back as Vector had collided with her, blunting most of the damage.
I pocketed my empathy for Vector, remembering my purpose. If I could somehow give a better showing, I would certainly win some followers.
The next player that faced the boar was another gamer. He just jumped out of the way. Not exactly brave, but he wasn’t stupid either.
With another four players spread out before it, no one was quick to attack it head on. They poked at it from a distance while it was torn on who to attack. It had started to tire.
There was no standout moment from them, but the challenge the four athletes gave it left the gamers embarrassed.
Its pace slowed further. Battle exhaustion was taking over.