Project Daily Grind (Mirror World Book #1) Page 8

So that's how it was, then. This bot only gave me a 15% chance of not popping my clogs in the process of farming this wretched agate. Shame I couldn't check the approximate output and timeframe just for future reference. Apparently, the game developers were playing it safe. If not, why would they have created this No Mercy mode at all? By the same token, even cigarette packs came with warnings and all sorts of blood-curdling little graphics.

  Let's give it a think. My contract specified that I’d be paid six and a half gold per thousand of resource value. Plus an extra percent for the resource's rarity. Last night I'd checked the auction prices for zero-level stones. Prices per thousand were eighty to a hundred gold. Ironically, Agate was one of the cheapest. Which only served to prove my [insert air quotes] remarkable good luck and observation skills. Or their complete lack thereof. What had I been doing, plunging into the mine head first without first checking which locations had turquoise and aquamarine?

  Today I'd have to work here, but the following morning I was definitely going to search for turquoise.

  According to Rrhorgus, the best I could make in a week was two hundred gold after taxes. If you deducted the expenses, then in order to make thirty gold a day I'd have to farm about forty-five hundred stones. Which meant brandishing my pick in Speed Mode for fifteen hours or so.

  Oh. They might just as well bury me right here. Having said that... I remembered how I'd spent several months in Spain as a student, working in a field. We used to harvest onions. I still have dreams of those never-ending fields. You placed a six-gallon plastic basket between your feet, bent your body until your torso was parallel to the ground and started moving forward in a half-squatting position, wearing out a pair of thick leather gloves a day. The scorching Spanish sun blazed away overhead, a behemoth tractor followed you unhurriedly while you scooped the onions filling your basket, then poured them into the tractor's bottomless bucket. In order to earn five thousand pesetas—which had been the equivalent of twenty-five US dollars at the time—we all had to meet a quota of seven tons each.

  I still shuddered remembering my first days at work. My muscles hadn't hurt anymore. My bones had. We slept on average four or five hours a night. Still, I'd made it. My body had been young and I'd been reckless enough to eagerly test its limits.

  Ironically, now I'd ended up in a game where I'd have to live up to my old feat. My face dissolved into a smile. They say that the virtual world makes everything possible. Still, my virtual body's stats didn't offer much against the old me—the real-life Grinder of flesh and blood, young, reckless and tough.

  I heaved a sigh and selected Speed Mode. After a thirty-second pause, my body began to move toward the pick still stuck in the rock.

  It came out with surprising ease. I hadn't even made any considerable effort. It felt almost like cheating.

  The thought surprised me. Was I going slightly mad? Sveta was going to laugh her socks off when I told her. Was I cheating on myself?

  While I was thus busy soul-searching, my bot had already produced five little stones. No—six!

  You've received a resource: Agate.

  You've received +1 to your skill.

  Yesterday morning I might have been dancing around the room, overjoyed, but today all that forum-reading had left its mark. Even a noob like myself gains a bit of confidence having spent some quality online time perusing the wealth of blogs, guides and user's manuals.

  All of them claimed that although profession leveling in Mirror World was admittedly boring and mind-numbing, at the end of the day it paid for itself. Provided you did level up, of course. Zero-level resources only provided the base of your future prosperity. Farming them was in equal doses important, dangerous, cheap and tedious.

  Location owners were the only people who profited from start-up resources. Forum members engaged in lukewarm discussions saying that it wasn't fair when one had everything and all the rest had to bust their guts for him for peanuts. They were predictably told that no one prevented players from buying Gold plans and paying extra for their choice of minerals, then they'd be all set to make a quick buck.

  When the game had only just started, they apparently used to have some sort of a free zone. Still, it didn't last. The stronger players formed several powerful clans and indulged in turf wars, plunging the area into the Middle Ages. The game developers' mail boxes were snowed under by tens of thousands of complaints and letters of protest against this breach of justice. As I'd read these forum comments, I'd been dying to add my two cents and ask them if they thought there was any difference between Mirror World and real life. Did they really think there were any unclaimed territories left on Earth? Didn't the whole world abide by the same principle, one man rakes it in while millions have to toil? And where could I find an admin to complain to about this disparity?

  Not everyone had been interested in joining clans, and not all clans could boast any clout. Still, everyone needed to level up professions: this was one thing you couldn't get around. Either the admins felt the pressure from all the complaints or for whatever reasons of their own, but they'd created a large gaming territory and packed it chock full of mobs, resources and all sorts of instances. Now anyone could take the risk of visiting the new neutral zone nicknamed No-Man’s Lands in order to farm a rare piece of armor, an expensive resource or just earn a few week-long injuries.

  Congratulations! You've received a resource: Agate

  You've received +1 to your Skill

  Excellent. This was a good start. Forum gurus had warned newbs against celebrating too soon when their skill began to grow after the first few farmed resources. Apparently, the first ten points came relatively quickly, but after that, a player would hit a plateau when he would have to pay with his own blood (sometimes literally) for every point earned. The overall advice was to be patient, make sure you ate well and above all, keep your head on.

  Only when I'd read this did I begin to realize the significance of my additional skills. In light of this, I was even more surprised why no one had chosen an Ennan as their char.

  Your bag is full!

  The moment the message popped up, the Merry Digger bot turned my body around to face the exit. I decided not to resist it. I was quite curious about what I was supposed to do next. I hadn't even had time to mull over anything—and I'd already farmed forty stones! I dreaded to think how long it would have taken me without this undoubtedly useful app.

  Two Skill points into the kitty.

  I left the cave and headed for the terminal. A message appeared on the screen,

  Greetings, Olgerd!

  Would you like to declare your resource? Name: Agate. Quantity: 40 pcs.

  I pressed Confirm.

  As I waited, I watched my Energy bar grow. The bot knew what it was doing.

  Thank you for your work! You now have 40 pcs. of Agate.

  Rinse and repeat. My body turned round and headed for a new helping of pale blue stones the size of a small cantaloupe melon. Had I farmed turquoise, I wouldn't have had to spend so much energy—according to forum posts, it was even smaller. I definitely had to find a turquoise mine first thing tomorrow.

  * * *

  ...Six hours of work had flown by. I had eighteen hundred-plus stones in the kitty. Skill level 6. Plus 1 point to Shrewd Operator. As for True Heroes Take Devious Routes, I was in for a surprise. Five out of eighteen attempts had been successful, raising my Shrewd Operator skill to 15. And this was only my first day at work! I could literally feel my virtual heart jumping in my chest with joy.

  How had they created this illusion? Or was it my mind playing up? My own heart was far away now, deep inside my physical body floating in that gelatinous goo.

  Your energy level has dropped to 40.

  Would you like to drink a Stamina elixir: Yes/No

  Tick the box if you don't want to see this message again.

  I confirmed elixir drinking but I wasn't going to tick any boxes. I wasn't going to give this bot any more independence than was absolutely
necessary. I preferred keeping an eye on everything myself.

  The contents of the fat vial proved tasteless. Once I'd drunk it, the vial disappeared, leaving me for some glass blower who too had to level up his or her chosen profession.

  * * *

  ... I'd been at it for thirteen hours now. The location's resources kept restoring promptly. It had been two hours since I'd drunk the second vial. My energy kept dropping, and even my frequent stops by the terminal didn't help anymore. It was probably my physical body reminding me of itself. I was pretty sure that if I drank another elixir, its effect wouldn't last for longer than an hour. Now I understood the connection between our physical and virtual bodies like never before. Or was it again my mind playing up?

  Now I could understand why the No Mercy mode was “Not Recommended“. What was the point? All it meant was that you'd have to OD on elixirs until every new stone began to cost you dearly. That's exactly how others must have burned out—and for what? It only meant more money spent on elixirs to ruin your health faster. All to farm some agate? Please.

  Very well. It was time I stopped. Enough for my first day.

  I switched off the bot and staggered out. Night had fallen over Mirror World. An enormous moon bathed this weird land in its pale light. The sound of my footsteps alone disturbed the silence that had enveloped everything around.

  The terminal habitually greeted me with the phrase I couldn't hear any more,

  Greetings, Olgerd!

  Would you like to declare your resource? Name: Agate. Quantity: 40 pcs.

  Yes, damn you!

  Thank you for your work! You now have 3968 pcs. of Agate.

  Not good. Just falling short of my quota. All I'd earned was twenty-five gold. Shit. Two more hours would have done it. But no. It wasn't worth risking it. I could barely stand on my feet.

  Before leaving, I checked my skill and ability levels.

  Current skill: 12 pt.

  Maximal skill pt. for your current profession level: 35

  Another twenty-three points, and I'd become a Seasoned Digger. And that was totally different money. I'd have to spend some quality time studying resources and weigh up all the pros and cons. With any luck, I might start looking for a new mine the day after tomorrow.

  My girls only had to brave it for a little bit longer. I was almost there. I shook the thought away. Were they all right? They were probably already fast asleep—but not Sveta, no. In any case, I wasn't going to disturb her. I'd give her a call in the morning.

  I checked on my Shrewd Operator. Twenty-two points. That's a result! Talk about devious routes. Time to quit.

  I cast one last glance at the moon. Wasn't it beautiful! Never mind it wasn't real.

  Chapter Ten

  Darkness enveloped me. I was already getting used to it. What a weird sensation. Scary. You didn't feel your body at all. I couldn't see anything. I didn't breathe.

  Logging out was taking a while. I couldn't see the light. What was going on—were they all asleep or something? Hey! Where's my light?

  It felt a bit like waiting for an elevator: you knew it was there somewhere, shuffling its cables in the dark, but you couldn't tell its exact location because some idiot had melted the elevator button with his lighter and then an alcoholic neighbor had cannibalized the floor display. His wife would stand next to you also waiting for the elevator, cursing the anonymous vandals just to check if you knew who the true culprit was. The funny thing was, she would know you knew it and you'd know she knew it too, and still your good manners wouldn't allow you to confront her story and you'd just stand there nodding as she heaped accusations onto the unknown bastards who deserved “having their arms ripped off“.

  Finally, my “elevator“! The light approached gradually—too slowly, really. It hadn't been like this before. Hadn't Dmitry said things were only going to happen quicker?

  Then the light came crashing down on me, consuming me. Blurred images appeared before my eyes. My vision seemed to be failing alarmingly fast. I couldn't do without glasses anymore. If I still had time today, I'd go and see an optician.

  My body shuddered. I regained control over it.

  Jesus, what was that pain? I'd once read an interesting article about Medieval torture tools. Some people had a truly sick imagination. They used to have this rack on which they used to stretch a victim's limbs while stabbing or roasting him or her. For some reason, I immediately remembered that rack when the pain flooded over me.

  All my joints were screaming. My head was going round. My arms felt like two unmanageable oak beams. My eyesight had dropped considerably. What was wrong with me?

  “So, you're back now, Mister Hard Worker?” my brother's voice came from somewhere to my right. “I tell you now, Oleg, you're a freakin' shithead!”

  “Why... what happened?” I managed.

  “He's asking me what happened! What happened is that somebody decided to become the first virtual champion mine digger and has very nearly busted his ass in the process. Not nearly even—you have busted it. Did you decide to remember the old days and die in style?”

  “No, wait... please... what happened?”

  “What happened?” he snapped. “I'll tell you now. What happened is that one inappropriately forward individual, despite everything that had been said to him, spent thirteen hours of the in-game time brandishing his pick in an agate mine! That's considering his own weight is a hundred fifty fucking pounds! He didn't give a shit about the two-week adaptation period, did he? He just sank his dentures into the rock and away he went! Your new buddy Greg, too much muscle and not enough brains, even he took three weeks to adapt until he gradually eased himself into using boosting elixirs. And what did you do? You've downed two Stamina elixirs and used it to turn out almost four thousand resource units! Which incidentally is unheard-of for a normal production procedure. Those guys do their four or five hundred stones a day and don't give a fuck! And what have you earned today? A measly twenty-seven bucks? You're not a noob, brother. You... do you know who you are? Have you thought of your wife? Of your daughter? They're beyond themselves with worry these last two days!”

  I startled. “Two days? No!”

  “Oh, yes!” Dmitry's eyes glistened with glee. “Can't you see where you are? Yeah, right, as if! It's your wretched eyesight...”

  He sniffed and shut up. I heard the rustling of a paper bag, followed by quick footsteps in my direction. “Here, try them on.”

  I sensed the familiar feeling of glasses hugging my temples. “I found your old pair and took it to the optician's on my way. They patched up the frame a little and put a new pair of lenses in. You look just like a mole!” he waved away my attempts at gratitude. “Ah, we’ll sort the cost out later.”

  The glasses changed everything. I took a look around me. I was hung with all sorts of tubes and wires. A hospital bed complete with a control desk allowed me to change my position any way I wanted. An IV drip needle was stuck in my arm. Some machine kept beeping rhythmically next to me.

  I looked out of the window. The sun blinked back at me. I smiled. This was the real sun. Warm and beckoning.

  “Whatcha grinning at?” Dmitry asked in a calmer voice. “Then again, why not, now that the local doctors have brought you back from the dead.”

  I carefully removed the glasses, wiped them on autopilot, then put them back on. My eyesight had indeed deteriorated. I'd have to get a new prescription. Later. All later...

  “How are they?” I asked.

  Dmitry knew what I meant. “There’s no change in Christina. She's a very clever child.”

  I nodded and smiled. It was a pleasant compliment. It's always nice to hear your children being praised when you know the speaker means it.

  “Your Sveta is already threatening to sue everyone in sight if anything happens to you. She promises to raze the whole place to the ground.”

  I grinned. “You'd better believe her.”

  “I do. Your wife is a fighter. All those years of battli
ng for your daughter's life have left their mark.”

  “They have indeed,” it felt good knowing my girls were trying to protect me.

  “The doctor said, two more weeks of this masochism and you'll waste yourself into an early grave,” he pulled his chair closer to the bed. “Listen, brother-” he began.

  “Listen, brother-” I said simultaneously.

  We both shut up. Then we burst out laughing. The pressure seemed to have eased off a little.

  “You first,” I offered.

  “No, you speak,” he said. “I've been doing all the talking for an hour now. I'm not a freakin' stand-up comedian. But just before you say anything, tell me: WTF? Are you raving mad? Busting your guts for twenty bucks? Why won't you work for a regular wage? They love your kind of speedy idiots.”

  “I got my skill up to 12,” I said.

  Dmitry choked on his words. For a while he just stared at me, bug-eyed and open-mouthed. Then he stood up, strode toward the door, opened it and looked outside. He closed it shut, walked back to me and pulled himself and his chair as close to me as he could.

  “Go ahead,” he whispered.

  Surprised at this turn of events, I too switched to whispering. “Nothing to tell. It's the additional skills. I told you.”

  He shrugged. “Do you think I remember? If I looked into every little trick that came with every race, I'd scorch my brain. You saw how many they were. What about those abilities?”

  “Firstly,” I said. Shrewd Operator improves your chances to raise your skill with every twentieth resource you farm. And secondly, Devious Routes works in tandem with Operator, improving your chances of raising it 1 pt. with every hundredth resource.”