“What? What criminal record?” Van asked.
“Three years ago, you were involved with the illegal sale and movement of the drug known as Cwake,” O’Hara said, pulling out a small folder.
“Cwake? I don’t even know what that is—some kind of game?”
“Don’t be a smartass,” Neil growled. “You know what Cwake is.”
Van was actually terrified. He knew exactly what Cwake was: it was a highly synthetized amphetamine that essentially allowed a person to operate without sleep for days at a time. Before Draco had rolled out the rules for Sleep Time, Cwake had been the hottest commodity on the market, and it had been used in just about every single serious gaming group. Not only did he know what Cwake was, but these agents were dead-on... he had absolutely sold it back in the day.
“No, sir, I’m just a regular gamer who—”
“Regular gamer? Cut the crap,” O’Hara said as she slugged him in the stomach, causing him to reel back and hold his stomach.
“Hey, you can’t do that, I’m an American citizen—I have rights.”
“You hear that, Neil? He says he has rights?”
“You know, Cwake was probably one of the most illegal substances on the planet when you were dealing, right? You certainly do have rights. You have a right to an attorney, a right to a phone call from prison, and heck, you even have the right to remain silent, if you want to play the ‘I have rights’ game,” Neil said, leaning over to get his face nice and close to Van’s. “But the reality is, kid, we ain’t here to throw you in the clink.”
“We’ve got records of your sales, distributions, and movements all over the country, Van,” O’Hara said. “If we wanted you in jail, you’d be in jail.”
“Distributions?” Van wheezed, “You make it sound like I was some kind of kingpin. I… I might have sold a few pills here and there to some friends, but that’s it.”
“Just a few pills. Awww, did you hear that, O’Hara? He sold just a few pills! Our mistake, let’s get out of here,” Neil taunted him.
“Did you or did you not regularly receive packages from a Mr. Chaz Fordin?” O’Hara asked.
Van grimaced. “Yeah…”
“And did you or did you not regularly move those packages from your domicile to various locations across the city and state?”
“Yes…”
“And were you aware what was in those packages? Or did you think you were just delivering bubblegum?” Neil asked.
“How do you even know this?” Van asked.
“We’ve got our ways,” Neil said, sitting down on the chair across from Van and spinning around in it. “Here’s the deal. You’ve got a problem; we’ve got a problem. But fortunately, we both have solutions to those problems.”
“I’m listening,” Van said, shrugging. He had no idea what to do. Those minor indiscretions had happened so long ago, he had completely forgotten about them. He hadn’t done any kind of major crime, after all—he’d just been desperate for some money, and since he’d run away from home at such a young age as he had, he’d needed the money to get by. So a buddy of his had connected him to a guy known as Chaz who offered to pay him as a courier, moving Cwake around the city to various different dealers. He’d only done it for a few days before the guilt got to him, but the money had been good enough for him to be able to go straight with his life. He hadn’t gotten rich off the work, but it had given him enough money to buy the equipment necessary to finally get serious about his career in pro gaming.
And really, the digital economy in Dragon Kings of the New World was nothing to be taken lightly. If a person worked hard enough, they could make some serious money playing the game, obtaining sponsorship. Draco, the company itself, would even reward the absolute best players with actual jobs, providing them with those fancy biofeedback tubes that would provide total immersion.
It was somewhere in between the poor gamer and the professional gamer where people like Van survived—those who could make a living by selling in-game items, doing favors for other people, and even providing professional services for in-game characters. One of his most popular pursuits was being an in-game guide, as he knew the land extremely well, having played the game since beta stages. People would often pay him real money in order to get to secret areas, places where there was plenty of treasure, or high level areas where dangerous things creeped about.
So even if not everyone understood it, Van knew perfectly well that Dragon Kings of the New World wasn’t just some kind of a hobby—no, for many people, it was a way of life. Why live in a terrible, boring world with day jobs, taxes, and repetitive social constraints when you could live in a virtual world of sheer pleasure and joy? There were plenty of games out there on the market, but none of them could even come close to the Dragon Kings of the New World. It was the only game that had full-blown graphics and bio-immersion feedback, as well as a deep political system that allowed for players to actually rule and reign over the lands. In regular life, Van was nothing more than a kid without a college degree or even a real future, but in the game, he was a legend. Well, okay, he reasoned to himself—he was on his way to becoming a legend... but the fact was that he would be someone really important someday in that game.
And he was getting close to courting Draco’s favor in the hopes of getting a job as a professional gamer, which could even up his real-world life, but now with these CIA guys... this was trouble.
Draco wasn’t particularly interested in working with people who had criminal records, and if these guys leaked that information, he’d be finished. He had already spent all of his savings on a gaming rig that could run the game, and the little money he pulled in from doing odd jobs online barely enabled him to pay for rent and electricity. The fact was, without getting a job from Draco, his future wasn’t particularly bright. He had wagered everything on becoming a pro gamer..
Neil grinned, and it was clear that the agent knew what Van was thinking. “So, I’d love your assistance with a tiny little project. Miniscule, really.”
“What kind of a project?” Van asked.
“Shut it!” O’Hara said as she threw him up against the wall again.
“Whoa, hey, take it easy!” Van gasped as he froze. He had flashbacks to all of the times when he had been in brawls and fistfights as Sivlander, and realized that none of that experience made any kind of a difference in the real world. He didn’t have the muscles, memory, or training to fight back.
“Listen here,” she hissed, “we aren’t here to be your enemies, but we sure as hell aren’t here to make friends, either. We’ve got a complex operation going down, and if there is even a whiff of you blowing our cover, we won’t hesitate to make sure you’re nice and quiet.”
“I just asked a question,” Van whispered, shutting his eyes. He hated how weak and useless he felt just now.
“And we’re gonna answer it,” Neil said. “Draco’s got something screwy going on. We don’t know what, so we’re in need of some help.”
“How?” Van stammered.
Neil leaned against the wall that Van was pinned against. “We’re needing your help navigating that Kings of Dragon: Landtopia, or whatever it’s called. Word on the street is that you’re pretty good at it.”
“You want me to help you navigate a video game? That’s why you’re in my apartment, assaulting me?” Van asked in disbelief.
“We’re not even close to assaulting you,” O’Hara said as she looked around. “And this is a storage closet, not an apartment.”
“Just go away, please. There are better guides out there.” Van said. He wasn’t sure what the hell was going on but his aching skull informed him that working for these two would be a terrible idea. “There’s Felix Dormam; he’s incredible—”