Chương 5: How to become a Player

The evening descended on the city slowly and lazily, as if reluctantly replacing the day. Beyond the window stretched grey rooftops, lit by the warm orange glow of street lamps, while the sky gradually deepened into a rich blue — that particular, almost ink-dark blue of late evening, when it's no longer day but not yet night. Somewhere below, cars passed by occasionally, carrying with them the muffled hum of the city — distant, blurred, almost soothing.

Inside the room there was silence — only the quiet whirring of the laptop fan on the desk and the rare rustling of a blanket broke the stillness. On the windowsill sat an unfinished mug of tea, long since gone cold. No one had turned on the light — there was no point. Lloyd lay on his bed on top of a crumpled blanket, one arm thrown behind his head, the other lazily scrolling through his feed.

The phone screen glowed in the dim room, casting pale, cold reflections across his face — the only source of light in the room. Videos flashed past one after another — funny clips, someone's vlogs, gaming highlights, random music, someone's cat falling off a shelf. He didn't linger on anything in particular. He scrolled mechanically, barely watching. His thumb moved on its own — out of habit, not interest. Nothing grabbed him. Nothing appealed to him.

It was that same dull, sluggish feeling of an evening when the day is already over and you still haven't figured out what exactly filled it. Lloyd grimaced and pulled the feed down again.

"What am I even waiting for? For something to just become interesting on its own?" He had almost closed the app, his thumb hovering over the button — when the preview of one video caught his eye. He stopped. In large letters, the description read:"HOW TO BECOME A PLAYER" Lloyd squinted slightly, looking over the preview. It showed a woman — beautiful, around twenty-five, sitting at a neat desk against the backdrop of a bright, well-set-up studio.

A red blazer was unbuttoned at the top, underneath it a crisp white shirt with a sharp collar. The woman smiled calmly and confidently, her head tilted slightly to one side — the way people smile when they know exactly what they're talking about and have no need to prove it. On her nose sat a pair of neat glasses in a slim dark frame, and from beneath her tidy hairstyle rose small flesh-coloured horns, as naturally integrated into her appearance as any other facial feature.

He hesitated for a second — and pressed play. The video loaded instantly. The woman at the desk looked directly into the camera, smiled slightly, and began speaking in a smooth, soft voice with a light professional tone — the way people speak when they're used to explaining complex things in simple terms, without unnecessary drama and without condescension. — Hi everyone! If you clicked on this video — then you're all here for one single reason.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. She held a pause. A very short one, but deliberate — just long enough for the viewer to think: well, what reason? — To become a Player. Lloyd settled more comfortably onto his pillow, pulled his knee up, and kept watching. Outside the window, the evening city murmured quietly — rare voices, someone's laughter far below, the muffled honk of a car.

The familiar background noise you stop noticing long ago. The room smelled faintly of dust and cold tea. — Now, many of you probably already know the basic condition, — the woman continued, adjusting her glasses with a light, practised motion — clearly a habit of many years. — To become a Player, you need to reach the first level. And to reach the first level... She made a brief pause, as if letting the words hang in the air for a moment. — You need to perform a feat. Lloyd involuntarily let out a small snort.

The woman seemed to hear it — she smiled slightly and cleared her throat. — I understand that for many of you this sounds vague. What even counts as a feat? Where's the line? How does it work? Let's break it down with a specific example, — she reached off-screen and pulled out a small remote. — Watch carefully. A picture-in-picture video appeared on the background behind her — amateur footage, slightly blurry, clearly shot in a hurry on someone's phone.

Some shopping centre, a large decorative aquarium by the wall, commotion all around, frightened voices barely audible through the noise of the recording. The woman spoke over the footage, lowering her voice slightly: — The boy was eight years old. A girl, the same age, leaned too far over the edge of the aquarium — and fell in. The tank was full of electric eels. The staff panicked. The people around froze. And the boy — simply jumped in after her. Pulled her out. Both survived.

She turned off the footage and looked back into the camera. — X counted this as a feat. And I think no one has any questions as to why. A light laugh. Warm, without mockery. Lloyd listened without looking away from the screen, but a thought was already turning over in his mind:"X? What even is that? Something familiar... heard it somewhere, but I just can't remember." He furrowed his brow, trying to catch the memory, but it kept slipping away — like a word on the tip of your tongue that simply won't come.

He let it go. Maybe it'd come to him later. Outside, a tram rolled past — a dull iron rumble travelling along the street before dissolving into the evening air. The phone had grown slightly warm in his hand. Lloyd switched it to the other palm without taking his eyes off the screen. — I want to warn you straight away, — the woman continued, a hint of playfulness creeping into her voice. — If anyone is now thinking of repeating that aquarium trick — I wouldn't recommend it.

Just because X counted it as a feat for a child doesn't mean he'll count the same thing for you. The system doesn't copy. Lloyd raised an eyebrow. — So you naturally have a question, — she adjusted her glasses again and folded her hands on the desk, — how do you become a Player then? What exactly should you do? I have one reliable method. A proven one. She went quiet for just a second. But that second was dense, deliberate.

You don't fill airtime with a pause like that — you use it to let the viewer feel that something important is coming next. Lloyd didn't even notice himself leaning slightly forward. A smile appeared on her face — barely noticeable, slightly sharp at the edges, nothing like any of the ones before. Alive, and at the same time very measured. — You need to conquer a dungeon.