Double-Blind: A Modern LITRPG

The Gilded Tower had an annoying tendency of relying on themes. If this was a traditional game—its variety would be lauded. From the cabana-esque vibes of the first floor, to the crypt where Ellison and his attaché fought the Nosferatu. What annoyed me was there didn’t seem to be any consistency from floor to floor. We went from the over-saturated sheen of a silver city, complete with eldritch-touched horsemen spouting tendrils, to the current setting.

Which was ants.

A giant ant mound filled with ants.

Come the fuck on.

And while the inherent ridiculousness of this place paled in comparison to the pastel murder-unicorn floor, it still carried forward the same problem—the average User didn’t take them seriously. The murder-unicorns, who held the collective talents of being fast and carrying a sharp armor-piercing horn on their heads, had still managed to seriously wound Nick.

Yes, it only happened because he tried to ride them.

Yes, it worked out exactly the same way you’d expect.

The difference between Nick and the others was that Nick learned. Quickly. When we’d run into a forest colony of anthropomorphic bears on a later floor, he’d been wary. And when their invitations for porridge turned violent, he’d been ready.

Trouble was, we now had to convince a mix of strong personalities who had never worked together that they needed to progress slowly and not judge the monsters based on appearance, and needed to take the colony of ants seriously rather than turning this floor into a competitive pissing contest. As a result, I’d barely be able to speak with him since I’d shown up as Matt.

At the moment, he was helping two inexperienced members of the adventurer’s guild, the bodies of dog-sized ants strewn around them. Only one had been stung severely, skin turning black around his abdomen, while the other had a handful of bruises and scrapes from mandibles.

Nick shifted away to flick the bug guts off his sword, sheathed it with a flourish, then helped them both up.

“Thanks.” Scrapes said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“They just piled up out of nowhere.” Bite complained.

“Anytime.” Nick held onto Bite’s arm, pausing before he released it. “But this is why we recommended sticking in groups of four. Come on, if you’re local, you’ve seen your share of ants. They swarm.”

Both rescued Users glanced away in obvious guilt.

Scrapes—who I was guessing had heard of Nick—seemed to be trying to put his best foot forward. “We’ll head back to base camp, see if we can pick up any stragglers.”

“No. You won’t.” I interjected.

Both of them stiffened. Scrapes puffed himself up, trying for a macho put-upon. “I understand that you’re a region leader. But we’re not in your region. We’re members of the adventurer’s guild on a field mission—meaning the only person who can bench us is someone with Guild Authority.”

Technically, Tyler told me I had authority to order around practically any of the rank and file if the need arose. But this guy didn’t know that, and jumping through the hoops to prove it would be inefficient at best.

I took a deep breath and stepped into Scrapes personal space. He was a head taller than me.

“Uh oh.” Nick muttered, taking a step away.

I stuck a finger in his chest. “Look here, motherfucker. I don’t give a shit what you do. Go back to base camp and pick up some aphids to fill out the spots on your team for all I care. Not my business, not my problem.” Without breaking eye-contact I pointed at the other user. “But you’re gonna need at least three, because he’s not leaving camp.”

“I’m fine.” Sting argued, wincing slightly as he shifted on his feet. “Just jabbed me a few times. It burns, but I can keep going.”

“He’s fine.” Scrapes repeated, using his height to loom over me.

I didn’t back down. “We don’t know what the bites do yet. If you’d listened during the briefing, you’d already know that. What I can say after seeing them up close is they look a lot like fire ants. What do you know about fire ant venom, big guy?”

To his credit, he listened as I went through a perhaps too explicit description of what the necrotizing alkaloids common in fire ants would do in drastically higher quantities to living flesh. By the time I was finished he seemed shaken, though not entirely ready to swallow his pride and drop it.

“Uh. Craig?” Sting interjected, drawing Scrapes attention. “I want a cut of the loot as much as the next guy, but I’m also not crazy about the idea of rotting holes in my torso.”

“Smart man.” Nick said, nodding sagely. “Chicks dig scars, but rotting holes? Not saying you couldn’t find someone who’d be into that, but uh, they might not be into that, if you catch my drift.”

“Craig!”

“Thanks for your help, Ceaseless Knight.” Craig said smoothly, nodding to Nick as he took Sting by the shoulders and escorted him away. He paused next to me long enough for a withering stare uttering the words, “Page,” before he walked away.

We watched them go.

“The fuck did I do?” I asked, after they were out of earshot.

“Slapped down his pointless-bravado peen with your epic-knowledge peen.”

I rolled my eyes. “If I’m right, it may save his friend’s life. And for the love of christ stop saying peen. You’re supposed to be doing a rousing imitation of a heroic leader, not a twelve-year-old.”

Nick smirked. “And now I’m being assailed with your half-hearted-decorum peen.”

“Ugh.”

As intentionally annoying as Nick could be, I wouldn’t trade his presence for anything. I’d almost lost him a little more than a month prior. His charisma and easy-going nature was tempered somewhat by the trials he’d endured, but in exchange he was more driven, and the combination of charisma and drive drew people to him with a magnetic pull that might have been even stronger than before.

Since we discovered the prophecy in the tower, we’d more or less stuck to the rules of operation. Nick as the figurehead, me operating in relative secrecy, cleaning up the unpleasant, ambiguous problems, keeping his head clear and his hands clean. It worked surprisingly well. For the most part, Nick was smart enough not to ask about my moonlighting as Myrddin, and I knew better than to tell him.

Though the events of the previous night, I’d decided, should be an exception.

“It’s done.” I told him.

Nick stopped mid-stride, trying to ascertain my meaning. “So… he’s gone, then?”

“Along with anyone who would have created an obstacle to the Order’s current agenda of cooperation.”

On the rare occasion I reported to him, this was typically as far as it went. He’d absorb the end result, acknowledge my efforts, and move on without asking for more details.

Which was why it surprised me when he stopped, leaning against a root-strewn wall. “How… did he pass?”

“Sure you want to know?”

Nick nodded, looking ashen.

“The same way she did.”

I half-expected him to judge me for it. Hell, I judged me for it. There was no question that what happened last night had been a violation of my code. I didn’t kill if I had the resources and ability to detain. If the risk could be justified. And if the risk couldn’t be justified, I tied off the problem as quickly and humanely as possible.

My mind replayed the moment I shot him. The split second in time I’d aimed for his eye, intending to euthanize him instantly. Only for the bolt to strike him in the neck instead and leave him bleeding all over the ground.

In the grand scheme of things, it barely mattered. A difference of ten seconds, if that.

“Well, first of all, thank you. Seriously. Can’t even describe what a relief it is.” Nick said, eyes darting back and forth as he processed the information. I got it. It’d been a relief for me, and unlike me, he’d known Jinny for most of his teenage years. His mouth tightened, as if a thought had suddenly occurred to him. “Wasn’t exactly thinking clearly at the time, but in retrospect, it’s weird that he kept the shooter around. Never saw his leadership in action but from the rumors, he was a one-strike-and-you’re-out-kind-of-guy. Did he… say anything?”

“About that night?” I stalled.

Nick deserved the truth. But it was my job to protect him.

“Yeah.” Nick said, waiting expectantly.

I looked Nick dead in the face, long enough to sell it without going overboard. “No. We got in, did what we came for and left. Not a lot of room for a confessional.”

He chuckled nervously. “Pretty cold, bro.”

“Next time I’ll bring a priest and a hallmark card.”

“Easy. I’m just asking.”

“Yeah.” I hesitated, squinting and forcing my vision to focus. “Sorry. Didn’t sleep much. Got knives in my eyes.”

“Do you regret it?”

“No.” I said, the statement almost a reflex. “It needed to be done.”

Just maybe not the way I did it.

He took me by both shoulders and stared me dead in the face. “Don’t play it down. It’s not like it was when you were alone. Yeah, sure, we’re on a timetable, and paid vacation’s gone the way of the dodo, but you have me. Not to mention a handful of other reliable people to lean on. If it gets to be too much—be that quantity or quality—whatever, just let me know. I can sub-in whenever you need.”

I shrugged him off. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” Nick chuckled and looked down. “But you’ll land okay.”

“Always do.”

It sounded more dismissive than I wanted. If I’m honest, the check-in meant something. Letting him take over even a portion of my side of things would be almost as disastrous as me trying to take his place as the charismatic hero. It just wasn’t realistic. But knowing he was willing to try, and maybe more importantly, offer a non judgemental ear made all the difference in the world.

“Heard anything from Vernon?” Nick asked, anxiety peeking through his otherwise calm facade.

“About our mutual project?”

“Yeah.”

I shook my head. The last time I’d spoken with the necromancer, the man hadn’t seemed optimistic. Admittedly, I hoped it was temporary. His work speed had taken a serious hit ever since he found out his daughter Kinsley was still alive. “He’s at a progression wall. Having some trouble breaking through. If he figures it out soon and continues at his previous pace, we should have an answer.”

Nick chewed his lip. “It’s gonna suck, if it turns out we enabled a necromancer for nothing.”

I offered the only words of reassurance I could. “If there’s a way to bring her back, we’ll make it happen.”

A long silence passed between us.

“What if she doesn’t want to come back?” Nick asked. The question blindsided me.

“Why wouldn’t she?”

“Dunno.”

Nick wasn’t going to say it, but I could guess. Jinny had been diagnosed with a terminal illness in her teens, and it had been implied—though never directly stated—that her home life left much to be desired. Even back then, the world she’d left was already cruel. But it was a far darker place now, one that irreversibly tainted those struggling to survive in its grasp. Even the cores I turned over to fuel Vernon’s research almost without thinking would probably give her pause.

“Jinny wanted to make a difference in the world, before she left it. Maybe she’ll succeed. Maybe not. But the least we can do is give her the chance.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I know you’re right.” Nick rubbed his eyes. “And even if Vernon comes up dry, we have a backup now.”

“A backup?”

“The moron who threw a barrel of nasties at your region. Gotta be high level, and I’m guessing its only a matter of time before you find them.”

Right. The other necromancer. I’d put out feelers, and even now Miles was already kicking down doors, but the unfortunate reality of the matter was that hunting a necromancer was a waiting game. We had to find the correct trail of bodies, and bodies weren’t in short supply. “I’ll let you know if I need the muscle.”

Nick coughed awkwardly. Then coughed again.

“Fucking—what?”

“It’s unrelated. You’re gonna tell me to fuck off.”

“I’m about to do that anyway.”

“Well…” He waggled his eyebrows. “Any chance you’ll spill the tea on your other conquest of the evening?”

“Fuck off.”

“Who could have seen that coming?” Nick elbowed me. “Come on, dude. Meeting and approving your homie’s girl is a sacred tenet of the bro-code.”

This was so not what I needed right now.

“One, she’s not my girl. Two, I don’t need your approval. Three, the fucking second transposition is in thirteen days which doesn’t leave us much time to live out your Judd Apatow buddy-movie fantasies.”

“Maaaaaatt.” Nick whined.

I rolled my eyes. “You’ll probably meet her at some point. She lives nearby and Kinsley’s putting her on the merchant’s guild payroll.”

Nick stiffened and stared at me in disbelief. “Dude. You’re not supposed to pay them.”

“For services unrelated goddammit.”

“Uh-huh.”

“She has a unique skill set—actually, just shut up.”

“Copy that.” Nick waggled his eyebrows. “Definitely need to stop by now though. Make sure everything’s on the up-and-up. Ready for your court debut?”

Nick, along with the rest of the court, was saving his strength for the boss. We’d been making our way towards the base camp setup at the return elevator, and other than a few of the knights, most of the court would be there. I’d met a few of them already, as Myrddin, but Myrddin’s reputation blew up any chance of a copacetic relationship. Matt, Nick’s politically well-positioned Page, was much more innocuous.

I breathed out through my teeth. “Hopefully it goes better than last time.”