My Mom's The New Wannabe King?! - GameLit Adventure

With the advancement of AI, everyone knew the future would look different, but no one really knew just how advanced it could get.

King Kingdom—an RPG game that seemingly came out of nowhere took gamers by storm when it first came out 20 years ago. Japan went all out in search of the best gamers in the country. It’s why the V-Games were created.

My mother said that initially, the game was meant to be a social experiment to help reveal mysteries of the human mind. Neuroscientists and psychologists had long been using video games as research tools to study how people learn, navigate, and cooperate with each other, but, as you know, things took a turn for the worse.

Four people from around the world were chosen to enter the game through a portal-like entryway equipped with Virtual Reality Gear, or V-Gear for short, to complete the game and defeat the Wannabe King. Four developers of the game, who went unidentified to the public, also entered with them.

Only one survived.

Maximus Erving, 20 years old and the sole survivor, said little to nothing about the game and the events that transpired inside it for over 2 years, and no one re-entered or talked much about it. It was like the internet wiped King-Kingdom from existence.

There were rumors, of course, how something inside the game had killed them, or that Erving axed everyone himself, but the official report indicates they disappeared on a low-level side mission.

When 2047 rolled around, Viper Virtual announced that, not only was King-Kingdom still up and running, and that they wanted to send four more people into the video game— broadcasting the return of the V-Games for that summer—but that Maximus Erving would be joining them.

I was 12 years old at the time, and I remember the moment vividly. I was lying down on my bed, staring at the ceiling with my V-Glasses on and blinking through social media. Then, out of nowhere, a news segment appeared in my vision displaying the live event.

Erving stood tall next to the two game developers, Botan and Hachirou Vera, who never entered the game the first time around. He wore an intense smile that lingered almost as if it were painted on. He looked somehow more muscular this time around and had his blonde hair swept to the side and out of his blue eyes. He reminded me of a typical American celebrity—or a superhero from a comic book.

When the Vera brothers announced the return of the V-Games, my heart fluttered. While what happened back in ’32 was tragic, no doubt, I knew immediately and unequivocally that I needed to know what was on the other side of that portal, and, most importantly, defeat the Wannabe King, ultimately taking back control of the game.

If I wasn’t sure then, I was gung-ho after meeting Ervin in person at a book signing in Tokyo. His book mostly described his upbringing and the events up until he walked through the portal, obfuscating what happened to him or the others who entered with him. Still, he smiled at me and shook my hand, saying “Dreams are for the weak. Real heroes make their dreams a reality.” Man, It gave me chills!

Still, there was a voice in the back of my head that told me otherwise. My mothers.

Before my dad passed away when I was 3, my mother wasn’t around much. She was always chasing the next story. I get it. Being a journalist means long hours and a lot of sacrifices. Unfortunately, one of those sacrifices was me.

We just never connected… There was an emptiness in her eyes that, the more I peered into them, the more my soul felt like it would get lost too if I didn’t look away.

“How would your mother feel if she heard what you said?” the brown-haired reporter asked me in the chair opposite.

“It wouldn’t matter,” I answered. “She won’t be watching this.”

“She will be watching you battle in the V-Games this Saturday, surely?”

I twiddled my thumbs. Not because I was nervous, but because I wasn’t sure whether to lie or tell the truth. I didn’t exactly want to paint my mother in a bad light.

“She will” I lied. “She’ll be watching me from the sidelines.”

“Well, Rui, thank you for the, um, detailed history lesson,” she said, pressing a button on the side of her V-glasses. “The article should go to print Tuesday morning. If I need anything else, I’ll give you a call.”

I shook hands with the reporter, whose bags under her eyes made her look a lot older than she was, and grabbed my coffee cup to go.

“Your mother,” the reporter asked, stopping me in my tracks. “What’s her name?”

“Why?” I asked, hesitantly.

“Oh, I’m just curious. I might have heard of her.”

She looked up at me with a glimmer in her eye that held me captive. I could see how she was a renowned reporter. She could have gotten anything from me in that moment.

“Tomoe Ito,” I said, struggling to tear my gaze away from hers.

“Oh, wow!” she exclaimed, rising to her feet.

“Wait, you’ve heard of her?” I asked, in shock.

“N-No, sorry. It’s just that was the name my mother almost gave me! You know, after Tomoe Gozen, the famous samurai?”

All confusion left my body, and I composed myself. “Yeah…I know.”

I rolled my eyes before making the quick decision to not prolong the conversation.

“Anyway, I best be off,” I said, making my way out of the coffee shop in haste.

The sun was now beginning to set behind Mori Tower. I stared at the pink and orange hue in hopes it would calm my mind and give me a little relief from my thoughts.

Leaning up against the wall of the coffee shop, the journalist caught my attention through the shop window. I watched her press her V-Glasses again and take a sip of her drink. She loosened her bright, blue scrunchy, causing her auburn hair to fall lightly onto her shoulders, and rubbed the back of her neck before resting her head on the back on her chair.

As I watched her, I lamented on what I had said in the interview. I wanted to sound knowledgeable but only ended up talking for too long and whining about my mother.

I contemplated going back in and apologizing for rambling, but before I could muster up the courage, another contestant introduced herself to the young reporter.

Pink hair, green eyes… It was xPinkStarburstx, AKA Karrie Suka.

Was she waiting inside the coffee shop all this time? Did she hear what I said?

I panicked for a moment, then went over the conversation again in my head. Did I say anything that she could use against me in the competition?

No... I should be fine. I mostly spoke about the history of the game and… my mother.

Ugh.

Accustomed to feeling self-conscious, I shook it off with ease. It wasn’t like it was the first time I had rambled on about the history of AI, or the creation of King-Kingdom. Still…

Laughter erupted from both Karrie and the reporter. Their delight was loud enough to penetrate the walls. It looked as if they knew each other, but I couldn’t be sure.

Karrie was one of the top 3 people I was worried about losing to in the V-Games. Her skill with a Giga hammer was frightening. I wasn’t surprised when she was chosen to participate. I just hope she doesn’t remember me from spamming her inbox that one time…

What? Like you haven’t spammed a cute girl's inbox before.

“Excuse me, sir,” a mysterious man with a long-billed baseball cap said, standing a little close for comfort. “The 6 o’clock curfew will soon go into effect. You should begin making your way home.”

It always surprised me how real and human-like HR02’s looked. Spotting them took a keen eye, but from what I’ve learned by interacting with them, is that they always wear a hat of some kind to cover a slight defect in their left eye. I’m usually right about 75 percent of the time, and, if you ask me, that’s pretty close to perfect.

“Thanks. I will do,” I replied.

The humanoid was right, I better get home.

Having made my way across the street and down a dark, slightly pungent alleyway, I reached my apartment within a few minutes.

When I opened the front door, I discovered a package sitting in the hallway. It was long and narrow, with no name or address.

After putting on my slippers I checked the house. No sign of anyone. I came back to the entrance and checked the lock on my door just in case it was broken, but it was intact.

I grabbed the package and placed it on my counter in the kitchen. I debated opening it for a few minutes before thinking it might be a gift from the Vera brothers.

But as I began to unpack the box, a low, vibrational hum caused it to shake. I jumped back, almost hitting my elbow on one of the drawers.

The deep humming sound grew louder—stronger, even, and I felt drawn to it somehow.

My hands moved on their own and ripped off what was left of the kraft paper and pulled off the lid in an uncontrollable, swift motion.

What I saw in that box caught me by surprise.

A fiery, crimson-colored sword pulsated in front of me. My hand grabbed the hilt, and as soon as it touched it, the vibrating stopped.

I had never seen, let alone held a sword in real life before—only in virtual reality. It felt heavy, yet lightweight in my hand. A feeling unfamiliar, yet familiar.

Folded neatly under the sword in the box was a note. With my other hand, I picked it up and read it aloud:

“May Crimson taste only the blood of the King.”