He''d been playing for two hours and more? His eyes widened and he addressed Ocean directly. [Where was the hourly timer warning?]


    [At your real-world location, no automatic nag is legally required. You can turn one on using the options menu.]


    That was weird. He was so used to living where practically everything had an "automatic nag" system.


    And now he had a problem. He saw Island West-1 South-10 ahead and to his right as he passed by, and there was a faint shimmer in the air close behind him that marked the boundary between map grids. In other words he still had a ways to go yet before reaching Tourney Isle, and logging out right now meant the boat would be stuck, or worse.


    He stretched, feeling faint stiffness to his left arm that marked the lingering major wound. He checked on the boat''s cabin and found his passengers "sleeping", which meant they''d logged out and trusted him to get them to shore. So, he had a responsibility to people inside the game. He sailed on.


    He wondered what it''d be like to have this digital world as his permanent home. The first time that he''d met an uploader -- a bored Mexican gunslinger hanging out in a dungeon -- Stan had assumed that their lives were a rollercoaster of adventure and ultimate luxury. Afterward he''d kind of pitied them, since rich as they''d been, they were now trapped in their inner world and only able to set foot "outside" in reality by using robots. The truth lay in between; the uploaders and native AIs were often busier than they seemed.


    The boat hit a tall wave, then another. Stan checked his sail and thought back to what little practice he''d had with it. Maybe a storm was coming? No, the sky all around shined clear. Instead he caught sight of rippling water ahead, and his eyes went wide. He pointed forward and commanded, [Inspect!]


    That was one of his best skills. In response, a flash of sunlight highlighted a set of rocks dead ahead.


    He cursed and hauled at one of the sail''s confusing array of ropes. It folded like a Venetian blind and killed his acceleration. Unfortunately he was still heading toward the rocks, and now he couldn''t do much to steer! Stan grabbed the backup paddle and tried to shove forward against the oncoming obstacle, but he had too much momentum. The boat crunched forward directly over the jagged boulders, shaking Stan hard enough to knock him down. Warning icons flashed as though he were the one taking damage.


    Mercifully, the hull splashed down in safer water on the other side. He dashed into the hold and saw his passengers sleeping like nothing had happened, despite the obvious noisy leak beneath their sleeping spots on the floor. He was not going to have his time with this ship start with getting his passengers killed, on a clear day in the middle of the open sea!


    Stan cursed and brought up the magic menu again. He''d never gotten the Wood element, so the best he could do was try Growth on the shredded hull. The symbols moved around at his fingertips, but fixing lumber this way was only good for adding a few points of durability to a noob raft, not patching a long ragged hole. Water burbled up past his spell attempts, soaking the sleeping passengers.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    And of course he didn''t have a whole set of repair tools or spare lumber. Stan looked wildly around, then seized on his treasure chest, a copper-bound wooden box in a classic style. He whipped out his hammer and knocked out the pins holding the lid on, then slapped the top down over the worst of the damage.


    Casting another spell was hard, mostly due to having to stay in place and kneel on the box lid while waving his hands around. This time he could work with the Metal element along with Growth, giving the rule system a more specific reason to let him repair the wood. To help it understand what he was trying to do, he said, "I try to make the metal seal off the damage. Sacrifice the lid''s quality." Wrecking one item to fix another was worth a bonus if it made sense.


    His first casting attempt fizzled but he second took, melding the box''s metal parts and some of the wood into the damaged hull. A feedback message said, [Partial repairs have made the boat''s major wound minor. Leak rate reduced by 75%. You can bail out using the same chest.]


    Good. Stan stood up, feeling sweat on his forehead. "But I''m not bailing out now!" He looked at the lidless box and at the water slowly filling the cabin. "Oh, that''s what that means." He''d only recently been learning about ship stuff. He began scooping the water out. Once that was under control he raised sail again and used a wind that had stirred just now by natural weather in a roughly eastward direction. Soon he was moving, and every so often removing more water, and the now-familiar Tourney Island emerged on the horizon. The sun was already falling.


    Stan relaxed as he maneuvered toward the short dock. The wind shifted so that he had to zigzag or "tack", and eventually gave up to glide onto a beach instead. He barely remembered in time to swing up the bottom fin, the daggerboard, or whatever was left of it. "Is this going to sink while I''m offline?" he asked, watching the western sky blaze with sunset.


    [A protected vessel takes no damage while the owner is offline.]


    He started the thirty-second logout ritual, then remembered his passengers. "Obviously they have permission to exit...?"


    [Noted.]


    The world swirled away into a pale sky that faded to a Thousand Tales title screen. His version -- it varied by player -- showed a silhouette of a man sailing under a logo made of wood. "Whew, I need a break. Thank you, Ludo."


    The AI didn''t answer him, so he shut down the VR pod and opened it using a latch on the inside. It hissed open. He expected someone to help him get out without hurting himself, but since it was unattended he had to trust his own muscles. "I''m off to move into my new apartment. See you tomorrow."


    He headed downstairs from the VR pods, passing by two eager teenagers talking about dragons. The people on the main floor were busy eating and playing. Back where he was from, farm work occupied most of people''s attention. Here, well, the name of the building was a "Fun Zone". He''d need to get used to both playing Thousand Tales and seeing the stagecraft that made it all possible for others to play.


    Maybe someday, he''d be one of the players on the inside.