《Hunter's Bond》


 Chapter 1: Going Solo

    The moment he''d gotten the email from HR, Simon knew exactly what the meeting was about.


    The notice had been vague. Just a few lines requesting his presence for an interim performance review, along with the requisite stipulation that he not discuss the upcoming meeting with any of his colleagues. Simon barely discussed the things he enjoyed with his co-workers, let alone demoralizing emails that made his whole day pass at a snail''s pace as he awaited the inevitable chop of the guillotine.


    It would have been one thing if the people occupying the Belsoft were all undergoing an interim review, but he knew he was the only one. Despite the warning from HR, the first thing most people did when they received an ominous email was to post it in Slack and ask if anyone else had gotten the same. Simon kept an eye on the chat all day, but it was the same as it ever was. Requests from managers in general chat and endless talk about movies, games, and the latest blowup on social media in the "manager free" chat.


    It was Simon alone facing the sword of Damocles, and that could only mean one thing: His manager had reported him. Again.


    Brad wasn''t a bad guy, in the grand scheme of things. He probably fell somewhere well between saint and serial killer, like most people Simon had met. But Brad was the definition of a loud, boisterous extrovert, and he brought that team player mentality into the workplace, expecting all of his charges to share the same desire to spend every waking hour with other human beings.


    Simon didn''t share the sentiment.


    It wasn''t that he didn''t like people. They were fine in moderation, if they were genuine and helpful. But for the most part, he''d always worked better alone. It was a lot easier for him to just follow through on his thought process than to try and explain it to someone else. Brad had tried on many occasions to get him to "come out of his shell," which mostly amounted to team-building exercises and assigning partners for projects that could have been done solo in half the time.


    Simon glanced at the clock in his system tray. Five minutes until his meeting, and--more importantly--three hours and five minutes until he could go home. Three hours and five minutes before he could finally try out a neural jack for himself and see what all the fuss was about in one of his favorite game series. Three hours and five minutes before he could lose himself in the world of Apex: Untamed and forget all about Brad and this shitty job.


    Knowing it was pointless to start a task with so little time before a meeting, Simon opened a web browser and pulled up the Apex site. He''d tried to limit spoilers, wanting to experience the world with fresh eyes--the way he had years ago when the series first started on non-VR consoles. But right now, Simon was itching for a taste.


    He could stop himself from diving into the codex or even the class information, but a glance at the introductory information wasn''t going to kill him. Scrolling past a trailer he''d watched too many times to count, Simon read the developer''s description of the latest game in the Apex series, Untamed:


    Welcome to the world of Estalia!


    Adventure awaits for those brave enough to claim it. Choose your destiny, hone your skills, and match your strength and wits against the most cunning and brutal foes Estalia has to offer. Not all can survive in this world, but for those who crave a challenge, a living, breathing ecosystem is just one sync away.


    The teaser was a touch generic--it was obvious to Simon that whoever wrote it had never actually played the game. But the sections below were much more useful, showing the meat of the game and what had kept Simon hooked for almost half of his life.


    Hunt Colossal Beasts


    From the moment you set foot in Estalia, one thing will be clear: You aren''t the apex predator anymore. Massive beasts roam the land, each with their own strengths and weaknesses to learn and overcome. Scout out the habitats of land, air, and sea-faring creatures to gather information critical to taking them down. Build the perfect strategy to stand any chance against foes that can overwhelm you with their size, strength, and cunning. Gather your most trusted allies to execute your plan, or do what no one would dare and stand before these mythical beasts solo--the choice is yours!


    Create The Perfect Weapon


    Learn every last nuance of your chosen weapon as it grows to match you in power and skill. Slay beasts and use their natural weapons and armor to augment your own until you''ve created a completely unique weapon that perfectly suits you.


    Protect What''s Yours


    Build, fortify, and defend settlements against the onslaught of savage beasts. Populate your settlement with defenders, tradespeople, and healers to attract more hunters and increase your renown.


    Gather Your Party


    Connect with players from all over the world in real-time, face to face. Forge lasting relationships that transcend the confines of the game. Group up to increase your odds of survival and unlock special skills to take on the most fearsome beasts.


    "Yo, Henderson." Brad poked his head into Simon''s shared office space, his fingers wrapped around the doorframe. "Time to roll."


    Simon somehow managed to keep from rolling his eyes. Brad was in his thirties, but he still acted like a teenager most of the time. It was just "part of the culture," he''d said. One of the requirements for working at a high-energy company like Belsoft. In Brad''s case, high-energy mostly meant wandering in sometime after noon, talking to co-workers for hours, finally settling down to work at five, and then sneering at people like Simon who came in at a decent hour and wanted to leave at one, too.


    In Simon''s opinion, it just made for unhappy employees and an insane turnover rate, but he''d never said that to Brad''s face. Or to anyone, really.


    "Be right there." Closing the tab on his browser, Simon pulled off his headphones and pushed away from his desk, sparing one last glance at the system tray. Three hours and one minute to go.


    ***


    "We value your work here, Simon. We really do."


    Diane, a petite woman with a fake smile, beamed at him patronizingly from the other side of a large metal desk. She''d spent the past half hour reviewing Simon''s performance, batting numbers and milestones and clock-out times back and forth with Brad. They''d gone through a pattern of building him up, praising his attention to detail and his skill at singling out problematic code and fixing bugs before they crashed the whole system. Then, once his ego had been sufficiently stroked, they tore him down, citing his lack of enthusiasm, his refusal to participate in company functions, and even the fact that he typically worked through his lunch hour.


    Simon listened throughout it all, responding only when he was prompted. This wasn''t about him, after all. Whatever they''d decided, they''d already made up their minds. Simon was just waiting for the sword to drop; to see if his head would end up in a basket, cleaved from his shoulders. Or if it would remain intact for another fantastic year of working at Belsoft.


    "But Belsoft prides itself on promoting an energetic, passionate environment in which to work, and I''m afraid--"


    "You''re not cutting it," Brad interjected.


    Simon''s brow arched, a hint of amusement tugging at his lips. Brad had always been such a kiss-ass that he never thought he''d see the day the man actually said what was on his mind without trying to play both sides.


    "Your input is appreciated, Mr. Steigler, but maybe you could let me do my job?"


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.She smiled sweetly at him, but there was murder in her grey eyes. Apparently she had as little tolerance for Brad as everyone else at the company. Simon leaned back in his chair, settling in. And here he thought this would be another boring, routine meeting.


    "I''m tired of sugarcoating this," Brad said with a huff. "Every year I give the same review, and every year Henderson stays at his desk, head down, and doesn''t interact with anyone unless he''s forced to."


    It was hard for Simon to imagine the kind of company that didn''t value head down work mode more than anything else, but apparently he''d ended up at one. His lips pressed into a thin line and he willed himself not to rise to the bait Brad was so clearly throwing his way. That willpower shattered in moments, and he failed spectacularly.


    "So you''d rather I waste half the day talking about how much of a hangover I have?" he asked, his gaze intent on Brad.


    And oh, it was worth it just to see the way the man gaped. He looked like a fish who''d suddenly found himself on land, flopping about as he tried to get back to the water.


    "See?" he squawked, his attention turned to Diane as he pointed a finger at Simon. "Everybody thinks I''m crazy, but he doesn''t respect me. He doesn''t respect anybody here."


    Brad was wrong about that. He had plenty of respect for the co-workers who had earned it. His supervisor had never been on that list, and never would. Partly because of outbursts just like this one. Because when Brad felt even slightly insecure, he turned into a screeching mess of a man. In some ways he almost reminded Simon of the Anorndus in Apex. The corner of his lips pulled into a smirk as he thought of the feathered beast squawking its alarm call whenever someone encroached on its territory, threat or not.


    Come to think of it, Brad did have that same oversized, hawkish nose...


    "Mr. Henderson, I''m not here to intervene on behalf of your relationship with your subordinate. This meeting is about company values and work/life balance. If you''d like to schedule a disciplinary meeting, we can do that after," she said coolly.


    Brad actually took that as his cue to be quiet, but the choice of words rankled Simon''s already agitated state. He''d been told to act more engaged in the past, but no one had ever made it out to be something that was done for work/life balance.


    "My work/life balance happens at home, on my own time," Simon stated. "That''s why I come in when my contract says and leave when my contract says. So I can go home and have a life. I shouldn''t be penalized for not wanting to live at the office."


    "Is that a criticism?"


    Diane ignored Brad''s testy question and the posturing that went along with it. "And that would be just fine at another company, but at Belsoft we expect you to be involved. Hours are structured so employees can interact with one another. The lounge was remodeled to help promote downtime so that colleagues could become friends. When you don''t take part in any of that, Mr. Henderson, it makes the company look bad, and it makes others take notice."


    Simon''s mind reeled at the implications that were being thrown around. Was that really what they were going with? The hours were open because management didn''t want to come in before noon. The lounge was remodeled because a fully-stocked fridge was apparently a good way to get people to work unpaid overtime.


    "I have the highest productivity of anyone in this company. I fix more bugs on a daily basis than most people get around to fixing in a month. Are you seriously calling me out because I''m not Mr. Extrovert? That sounds pretty discriminatory, to me."


    Simon ignored Brad completely, focusing his attention on Diane. Discriminatory employment practices were something HR had to take seriously, and he knew he''d caught her attention when he saw her eyes widen slightly. Brad, of course, had something to say about that.


    "Being a team player is part of your job description. If you can''t hack it, maybe you shouldn''t be working in this industry."


    Anger sparked low in Simon''s gut. He wasn''t someone who lost his temper often, but Brad had a talent for pushing him too far. He knew it wasn''t worth it to call the man out on his hypocrisy. After all, the only reason Brad even had his management position was because he''d fallen face first into by virtue of being the CEO''s college roommate. He had no other skills that would''ve made him a good software developer, and certainly no experience managing other people.


    Simon could have been petty and pointed all of that out, but he clenched his jaw and kept his attention on Diane.


    "What''s the punishment, then? Forced lunches with the team? Trust falls in the lounge?"


    Diane''s fake smile turned icy. She obviously didn''t appreciate Simon''s particular brand of humor. "You''re being issued an official warning, Mr. Henderson." She withdrew a pristine sheet of paper from a folder and slid it across the desk. "If we don''t see significant improvements within a month''s time, Belsoft will be forced to remove you from the team."


    Simon sat back, the force of her words like a shockwave crashing into him. Remove him from the team. That was a very nice way of saying they would fire him if he didn''t pretend to be something he wasn¡¯t. Brad was apparently so eager to get rid of him that he was okay with taking the loss of productivity and clean workflow if it meant he didn''t have to deal with someone who wouldn''t piss himself laughing at his stupid jokes.


    Either that or he expected Simon to cower, so fearful for his job that he''d do anything to keep it.


    Well, fuck that.


    Jobs weren''t exactly growing on trees, but Simon was a skilled programmer. He could work freelance jobs if he needed to, until some company somewhere decided his ability to work without getting distracted was worth more than "free" soda in the lounge and a daily lecture about how socially inept he was.


    Staring down at the paper, he read Diane''s beautifully scripted handwriting:


    Simon Henderson is a gifted programmer, but his interactions with coworkers and superiors leaves something to be desired. Spotty attendance at company functions, reluctance to initiate team projects, and an unapproachable demeanor have made him difficult to work with.


    Plan of Action: Thirty days probation, during which Mr. Henderson must demonstrate a willingness to work with his fellow Belsoft team members. If a marked difference is not seen within thirty days, Belsoft reserves the right to terminate Mr. Henderson''s employment as outlined in Section 11, Sub-section 4 of the company handbook.


    A company handbook that hadn''t even existed until Belsoft grew large enough to hire an actual HR department. Simon drew in a breath, the words blurring on the page. Brad was saying something beside him, his voice like the rattling whine of some instrument long out of tune. Simon didn''t focus on any of it as a war raged within him.


    He wasn''t too proud to admit this job had kept him comfortable when other people were struggling. The right thing--the mature thing--would be to just grit his teeth and pretend to be some social butterfly for a month. Brad would get bored and move on to some other target, and Simon would be left alone for another few years.


    But some part of him wasn''t exactly interested in doing the right thing. He had no idea if it was his heart or just some deeper impulse, but every cell in Simon''s body was vibrating with a rebellious spirit. He wanted what everyone stuck in a shitty job wanted: to be able to tell his boss to go fuck himself and walk off the job without looking back.


    Only unlike most people who had that dream, Simon actually intended to live it.


    Standing from his chair, he picked up the warning, grasped it at the top corners, and tore it into two jagged pieces, all while Brad and Diane looked on in shock.


    "Why don''t we just skip the month of bullshit and make it official now: I quit."

 Chapter 2: Apex: Untamed

    Thanks to his sudden lack of a job, Simon arrived at Gametopia two hours before he''d planned, and a full hour before the 9-5ers would get off work and start swarming the place. At least the ones who, like him, hadn''t caved and bought a NeuroJak System just yet. While few companies released physical copies of their games these days, game stores kept afloat selling new and used hardware, and brokering subscription deals with VR companies around the world.


    In the past, full immersion VR had involved hooking players into pods that would monitor their vitals and regulate their body''s needs during a pre-arranged period of time. As of this last generation, nano technology had taken over and players wore simple devices that tapped into their neural network and regulated everything for them. The whole thing had seemed sketchy as hell, in Simon''s opinion, but with the latest Apex game existing exclusively on that platform, he found himself willing to keep an open mind.


    "Welcome to Gametopia," the clerk greeted, "can I help you find your next gaming experience?"


    Such a hokey company phrase. Of course it wasn''t about selling products or services. No, Gametopia was interested in helping players achieve the optimal gaming experience, so they could leave their shitty lives behind and fully immerse themselves in virtual worlds. Simon didn''t need any encouragement for that, thank you very much. Beyond the jack itself, and maybe a primer on do''s and don''ts.


    He wasn''t an asshole, though, and so he answered, "I have a pre-order for Apex: Untamed. I need to buy the jack for it, too."


    The man''s face lit up, making him seem even younger than he probably was. "Man, you are so lucky you pre-ordered. People have been coming in here all day trying to get a copy and I¡¯ve had to turn them away. Last one was spoken for around noon."


    "That sucks," he empathized, making his way to the counter. The sooner this transaction was complete, the sooner Simon could lose himself in the world of Estalia.


    "Hey, better them than you, right?" Simon offered the kid a small smile. "What''s your name? I''ll pull up your details."


    "Simon Henderson. I have my membership card, if that helps." He pulled out an ID-sized card from his wallet, his picture showing on the front. Gametopia had always been deadly serious about preventing fraud or identity theft in the pods.


    The clerk tapped and swiped at his tablet screen, tilting his head and murmuring to himself throughout. Simon waited silently, his attention wandering to the displays in the store. There were demos of hardware all throughout, both virtual reality interfaces and old school consoles for the retro collectors and those looking to regain a piece of their childhood.


    Simon, however, had his sights set on the future.


    "Okay, got you right here. Standard edition, cool, cool. And you''re buying a NeuroJak today, which is awesome, man. Would you like me to pre-load the game so you can just fire it up and get started?"


    Simon''s brows rose. He''d planned to grab a bite to eat on the way home and look for some class guides while everything downloaded, but this was even better. "Yeah, sure. I appreciate it." The clerk--Anthony, his name tag said--beamed at him. "No problem at all. Happy to help a fellow hunter."


    "You play?" Simon asked, his curiosity piqued.


    As introverted as he was and as much as he preferred his gaming experiences being solo, there was still a certain feeling that came only from sharing the love of an amazing game series with another person. So few people in his life had ever understood his love for the Apex series. It''d been a source of strife at home, on dates, and at work.


    "Oh yeah. Dude, day one crew, all the way back in 2018. Pre-loaded it on my PS4 and spent the whole weekend in game. Best experience I''ve ever had in a video game."


    Simon smiled at that, remembering his own experience. That was over a decade ago now, but he still remembered it like it was yesterday. He''d just turned seventeen the week before, and had saved up enough from a part time job to buy the game for a console he honestly didn''t play that much. It seemed like a nice challenge and a way to block out all the shit going on at school. He figured he''d kill twenty or thirty hours before he got bored and moved on. But Apex drew him in from the very first expedition. He felt small and insignificant in that massive, thriving world--until the moment the systems clicked and he''d finally started to master his weapon. Every hour he put in after that was dedicated to honing that mastery, until he''d become powerful enough to take down beasts that would have one-shot him in the past.


    That was the thrill of the series for him, and one he was hoping to recreate in a new way through the NeuroJak.


    "What class did you main?" the clerk asked, and Simon could see the reflection of a progress bar shining off the man''s glasses.


    "Striker," he said. "Get in, deal damage, dodge attacks, and repeat. Always liked dual wield classes. You?"


    "Juggernaut," he said with a cheeky grin.


    Simon couldn''t help but laugh. Anthony was tall and gangly and probably couldn''t lift fifty pounds in real life, but that was the beauty of a game. He could swing a giant ass mace around like it was nothing, staggering beasts until they just flat out collapsed. He''d tried the playstyle once, but it was way too slow for his tastes. Even if the massive damage had been crazy satisfying.


    "Nice. Always admired the Juggernaut players who could get a sub five minute kill without taking a hit."


    Anthony grinned. "Yeah, I was never that good, but I held my own." The tablet let out a pleasant chime, and Anthony''s face lit up. "You''re all set. Everything''s loaded and ready to go. I''d still go through the NeuroJak tutorial, just to get familiar with the way things work. It''s really intuitive once you''re in game, but some of the behind-the-scenes stuff needs explaining, you know?" Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    Behind-the-scenes stuff. Right. Like the fact that the NeuroJak was somehow supposed to sync your real life needs to your in-game status, allowing you to eat, drink, sleep, and even take a piss when you needed to. That part of it weirded him out a little bit, and rather than stumble into it blindly, he decided to ask Anthony.


    "Yeah, about that." Simon took his membership card back from the clerk. "Everything I''ve read about the NeuroJak says it regulates your out-of-game needs based on what you do in-game. How does that work, exactly?"


    "Oh, man. It''s really cool. A little freaky to think about, but you''ll never wanna game another way. Trust me." Anthony hurried out from behind the counter and beckoned Simon over to the display where the NeuroJak was held, tapping the information terminal to bring up the section on vitals.


    Ridiculous animations appeared on the screen of a man sitting in his apartment with the jack hooked up while sound waves vibrated out of his stomach. Hunger, apparently? Simon snorted.


    "So the way it works is your brain gets sent signals when you''re hungry or thirsty or tired or whatever, right? Well the neural jack kinda intercepts those signals and converts them to whatever game you''re playing, making you seek out whatever it is you need in real life. So in Apex if you''re hungry, your character won''t be able to regen stamina, and you''ll actually feel that hunger until you get enough to eat."


    That... was kind of insane. But it only explained half of the equation.


    "Okay... how does that actually do anything for you in the real world?"


    Anthony was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as he explained. ¡°Okay, so all those things are basic needs, right? Everybody instinctively knows what they need, and you learn how to get it over years of conditioning. When you need something, the jack interfaces with your brain and tells it to go get it. So you need water, you automatically go to the tap and fill up a glass, or drink from a bottle you¡¯ve got nearby. Need food? Pop open the fridge, get some leftovers, heat ¡®em up in the microwave and you¡¯re done. You¡¯ll even sleep if you need it, and whatever game the jack¡¯s running will suspend until you wake up.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that¡­ dangerous? I could set my house on fire trying to sleep-cook or whatever, and I¡¯d just die.¡±


    ¡°First off, the NeuroJack¡¯s got lots of built in safety measures. If anything¡¯s going wrong, you¡¯ll know about it instantly and it¡¯ll kick you out of the game. Second, it¡¯s all like executing a program. Your brain¡¯s done this stuff a thousand times. It just runs the program again, and voila. You¡¯re taken care of.¡± Anthony fished out a pamphlet from beneath the counter and handed it over. ¡°All you have to do is have enough food and water available for however long you plan to play. There¡¯s some tables in here that crunch all the numbers.¡±


    Simon considered this wealth of information, his brain having some trouble processing it all. He knew about all those advancements. They''d been used in the military first, then in medical fields to sustain patients in long-term care. But the idea that the same science could be applied to gaming was a bit... unnerving.


    And really, really cool.


    He felt the way some of his friends had felt when virtual reality first became a mainstream thing. They''d been so convinced their gaming experiences would be a million times better, and Simon had watched as every one of them eventually admitted to disappointment. He felt that excitement now--that kid on Christmas morning, bouncing up and down, eager to get the jack home excitement--but he was also aware that it could end up being a huge let down.


    There was only one way to find out.


    "I appreciate the info. I think I''ll head home and give it a whirl."


    He had an infinite amount of free time now, after all. Even if the game regulated his playtime--and Simon supposed he should start looking for a new job on Monday, even if he could survive on his savings for a while yet--he intended to fully lose himself in the world; to get back the experience he''d had as a kid of firing up the game, then glancing at the window to see it was somehow the next morning already.


    "Best way to learn," Anthony agreed. "Just remember: Five days. You have to cancel the link manually; the jack won''t do it for you."


    Simon looked down at the box in his hands, nodding. "Five days. Got it."


    "Give it a full day to recharge and backup all your info, then you''re good to go."


    Equipped with everything he needed, Simon thanked the clerk again and started to leave the store, a spring in his step as he hurried toward the door. Before he could leave, though, the clerk called out to him one last time.


    "Oh hey, you already have an expedition group lined up? I''d be happy to have you in mine."


    An awkward feeling passed over Simon. It was the same feeling he''d had when randoms sent him unsolicited group invites in other games, or people he barely knew in the real world wanted to game with him. It wasn''t that he hated grouping, but he preferred to play his games solo. The sense of accomplishment was greater, and he could really immerse himself in the world and the lore behind it, whereas most people he''d partied with were eager to blow past NPC dialogue and quest text and just follow the waypoint to the next objective.


    "Thanks, but I think I''ll stick with running solo for awhile. Just to get a feel for how things work," he lied.


    "Aw, man. You''re missing out. Seriously, grouping up is the best part of Apex."


    Simon definitely didn''t agree, but he smiled politely. "Maybe I''ll try it out later on. What''s your tag?"


    The clerk scrambled over to the counter and pulled one of the business cards from its holder, scribbling something on the back of it. He handed it to Simon, whose eyes briefly scanned it, not bothering to commit it to memory. All he knew was it started with an H and was a crazy long string of letters. That was all he cared to know.


    "Cool. Thanks, Anthony. Maybe I''ll see you in game sometime."


    The clerk smiled at him, seeming really excited about the prospect of grouping with Simon in particular. A bit of guilt tugged at him, knowing he''d never make good on that maybe. He quickly chased it away, though, and left the store before Anthony could rope him into an in depth conversation about the benefits of multiplayer. He was done feeling guilty for being himself. All the Brads of the world could fuck off for a while. Simon Henderson was going to confront the world of Apex, and he was going to do it solo.

 Chapter 3: Your Best Self

    Simon sped the whole way home. He couldn''t help it. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, his heart pounded frantically, and every other need took a backseat to getting back into Apex.


    If the NeuroJak could regulate his thirst and hunger and everything else, then it only made sense to test it out. His plan was to log in, play for a few hours, and then log out to make sure his physical body was still okay and everything was working the way it should. The second he got home, he set up his desk with a bottled water in easy reach, along with a sleeve of crackers, a jar of peanut butter, and a plastic knife. A typical weeknight dinner for him when he was otherwise occupied.


    Settling into his desk chair, Simon pulled the jack from its box and read over the instructions. Anthony had gone over the basics, but it helped to see everything written out in order. He went through the process of registering the device to his person, testing to make sure it was receiving a viable signal, and then syncing it to his brain. The last was... an interesting experience.


    The jack was just a small disc, and when he held it up to his temple, it pulled toward him like a magnet. Stuck like one, too, getting enough of a grip that he''d have to intentionally pull it off, not just bump it. The second he turned the device on, though, he felt the most intense bout of vertigo he''d ever experienced in his life. It wasn''t really unpleasant--more like a rush than anything else. But it staggered him, keeping him rooted in his chair as he tried to process the fact that his brain felt like it was... connecting to something. Actually, physically connecting, like someone had wired his nerve endings to this device.


    It was a weird sensation, and Simon''s whole body tingled for several moments before it all finally stopped. He felt normal again, though a bit hungover. Lifting his hand, he went to touch the device only to find a certain... weightiness to his movements. It was almost like they were happening twice, out of sync just enough for him to notice.


    What the hell?


    He waved his hand in front of him, seeing it trail in a trippy blur. His eyes strained and he could feel a headache coming on from the weird disassociation, but after a minute the blur was gone. His hand was normal, and his movement felt as natural as it always had.


    "Sync complete," a feminine voice said in his mind, making Simon nearly jump out of his seat. "Hello, Simon Henderson, and welcome to the NeuroJak interface. My sensors are showing you are a first time user. Is that correct?"


    Simon looked around, as if expecting this disembodied AI voice to suddenly take corporeal form. "Uh. Yeah."


    "Excellent. Would you like to begin the tutorial?"


    Anthony had mentioned the importance of doing so, but Simon had planned on it anyway. He confirmed verbally--before realizing he probably didn''t have to--and a transparent grey window floated in front of his vision. The first thing to catch his eye was the pulsing icon of a heart, with two numbers registered inside of it and one below. It didn''t take him long to realize they were his blood pressure and pulse.


    There were two gauges at the bottom, the top about fifty percent full, the bottom seventy five. They were labeled Hunger and Thirst, and Simon began to understand just what this interface was.


    "This is... what? A personal HUD?" he asked the voice, forgetting to just think the question.


    "Exactly. This interface displays your vitals, which the NeuroJak constantly monitors. You will be given alerts if any reach a critical level, and you may retrieve this interface at any time by simply thinking of it."


    Huh. That was handy.


    "Would you like an explanation of how the NeuroJak system works?"


    This time he remembered to confirm only in his mind. The disembodied AI responded, bringing up a tutorial screen that displayed icons of a person eating a meal and drinking water. The system explained much of the same things Anthony had, noting that his levels of hunger and thirst would appear on his HUD, and his body would register the appropriate cues. She vaguely mentioned what the game referred to as "elimination," and Simon was glad for that. The last thing he wanted to think about was having to unlace his trousers and take a piss in a game world full of massive beasts. But apparently the body''s cues were sent along to his virtual self for that, too.


    Mentally shifting through tutorial slides, Simon acquainted himself with the mental commands the NeuroJak responded to. While there was a pause feature, the game itself kept on going. He would be able to pull himself out of the virtual reality and back to the real world, but his character would still be in the same predicament. This, the system assured him, was to curb exploits players had used in earlier builds of the NeuroJak to do what amounted to save scumming: Pausing the game, collecting their faculties, and gaining a tactical advantage when they came back to the action.


    "To compensate for the removal of this feature, all developers have integrated a skill in their games that allows players to slow or--at higher ranks--even stop time for a limited period. If that is of interest to you, please consult the in-game interface of the game you have chosen to play."


    While controlling the ebb and flow of time sounded cool in theory, Simon would be sure to examine all the skills that were available to him. After all, he wouldn''t need to grind time to a halt if he had skills that allowed him to avoid being in precarious situations in the first place.


    The tutorial continued, and Simon learned that he could only fully stop the game in a designated safe zone. After stopping the game, his character would sleep for an appropriate amount of time and then perform whatever menial tasks the game allowed.


    "You can queue these tasks as you wish, but if you allow the game to choose, it will avoid engagements with other players and NPCs and keep your character from wandering into dangerous situations. All effort will be taken to preserve your character''s life, though these measures do depend on each particular game."


    Sounded reasonable. The rest of the commands were mostly related to chat interfacing and other social functions. NeuroJak owners could apparently trade information to sync their games together. It was a nice feature for people who had a regular crew to game with, but Simon had never been one of those people. And in this game in particular, he planned to go it solo.


    "How do I start the game?" he asked, cursing under his breath as he realized he said it aloud.


    "You wish to start playing Apex: Untamed?" the voice asked.


    He nodded his affirmation, and the sleek interface of the system''s main hub disappeared, transitioning to a familiar logo. A smile crept across Simon''s face and shivers ran down his spine as the Apex theme began to play. This was what he''d wanted. This was what he''d been waiting for. The chance to return to one of his favorite games and tune out the rest of the world.


    Settling into his chair--which he could still feel, oddly enough--Simon awaited the New Game prompt. Since there was no controller interface to speak of, he thought the prompt aloud in his head and it took him immediately into character creation.


    "Would you like to load your default avatar?" the same voice from earlier asked.


    Sure. Why not. He''d see how goofy he looked in the Apex art style.


    A progress bar appeared but quickly vanished as, within seconds, a likeness of Simon was displayed on the screen before him. For a moment he thought the game was playing tricks on him and just creating some kind of mirror effect, but he wasn''t dressed in the Belsoft polo and slacks he''d been wearing. He was in the shabby leather armor of an Apex noob, with a few potion bottles strapped to his belt and a skinning knife slipped into a sheath.


    He blinked at the image, and it blinked back. Every expression he made, it mimicked. And when he simply thought of moving a certain way, it did that, too, unsheathing the skinning knife and slashing it through the air.


    "Whoa," Simon mouthed.


    That was trippy. He hoped the whole game wasn''t like that. He wasn''t sure he could handle controlling a third person version of himself. Speaking of...


    Simon appraised his avatar, taking in his messy dark hair, beardless face, and somewhat soft form. He''d started jogging regularly, but he knew he needed to go to the gym to make the effort pay actual dividends. Fortunately, Apex featured appearance sliders. Or at least, it always had. Simon imagined the menu and it appeared before him, with sliders allowing him to customize everything from the distance between his nose and his mouth to the exact style and color of his hair.


    He scrolled down, but didn''t see anything relating to his muscles--or lack thereof.


    "How do I change my build?" he asked the AI, hoping it was still there to guide him.


    "You can only make cosmetic changes to your avatar during the character creation process," it said. "If you wish to make changes to your physique, your intellect, or any other attribute that will assist you in the game, you must do so by distributing the appropriate stat points."


    Huh. So if he pumped enough into strength, he could Hulk out without having to hit the gym. Was the inverse also true? If he neglected a stat, would it show on his character? The AI didn''t answer his thought, so Simon pulled up the stats screen. A message popped up before he could see his stats.


    Welcome to Apex: Untamed! Unlike previous entries in this series, stats will now have an appreciable effect on your character''s appearance. As your stats are raised and lowered, your character will display different traits related to their current status.


    Well, that answered that question.


    When creating a character, you will have 10 stat points to distribute as you see fit. You can also lower the current number in any given stat--your default stats being based on your own strengths and weaknesses--and allot extra points to any other skill of your choosing. Be forewarned that once you commit to your skill points, you cannot change them, barring exceptional circumstances, rare items, or events.


    Interesting. It made sense that a game drawing from his physical and mental form would pull stats from his real life. While he''d tried to avoid too many spoilers, he''d heard rumblings from the press that there was something divisive in character creation, and Simon guessed this was it. It didn''t bother him in theory, but he decided to take a look at his default stat sheet, just in case.


    Name: ???


    Race: Human


    Health: 80


    Stamina: 100


    Mana: 120


    Morale: 100


    Strength: 8


    Agility: 9


    Constitution: 8


    Endurance: 10


    Charisma: 8


    Intelligence: 12


    Fortitude: 10


    ???: ???


    Since the "average" was considered a 10--the default for all stats in previous games--Simon considered his stats fairly balanced. A quick scan of everything showed familiar names for core combat and magic stats, as well as stats that applied to social situations and interactions with merchants. His health was determined by his Constitution, the game confirmed, and his Endurance contributed to his Stamina number. Strength was related to melee damage and the ability to exert physical might. Agility related to how many attacks he could dodge, how fast he could run, and a number of skills related to his dexterity. Charisma was mostly a social skill, allowing him to persuade or intimidate NPCs and sometimes charm lesser beasts if it was high enough. Intelligence was tied to his total mana pool as well as his ability to successfully learn and cast spells.


    Fortitude was a little harder to explain. In the game, it basically measured how resilient his character was, determining how often and how long they succumbed to abnormal status effects. In the latest versions of the game, though, it also related to a "stress wound" gauge--a red meter that appeared beside the health bar when a character had suffered a particularly difficult setback.


    Simon examined this skill to see exactly what it did in Untamed.


    Fortitude measures your ability to cope with the world around you. A high Fortitude allows you to negate and outright resist special attacks and debuffs other players would otherwise succumb to. It also lowers the amount of Morale you lose after each death, and increases the regeneration of Morale when performing Redemptive Actions.


    Right. He''d almost forgotten about that. Morale was essentially this game''s death penalty. Upon dying, a character lost a certain percentage of Morale, slowing their ability to regenerate health, learn new skills, gain experience, and adding an element of failure to ability use. It was a nasty debuff, and the only way to clear it was to literally correct one''s mistake from the moment they''d been slain.


    It was one of Simon''s favorite aspects of the game, and the mechanic he found most rewarding. Getting his ass kicked by beasts, adapting to their attacks, learning their patterns, and eventually overcoming insurmountable challenges was the thrill of it for him.


    Just thinking of the mechanic got him excited, but there was still a bit more to read about Fortitude. Specifically, a warning in bolded red font.


    Warning: Fortitude can temporarily raise or lower as Morale is affected. An exceptionally low Fortitude will make you unable to cope with the stresses of the world.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Simon snorted. That was really vague, and yet it sounded a little like real life. Apparently he needed to put extra points into that skill to make sure he didn''t ever fall below whatever the game''s threshold was.


    Dismissing the information box, he considered his stats for a long while. The Striker was an agile class, and in the past he''d piled most of his points into Agility, then Endurance and Strength in equal amounts. When he could spare it, he raised his Constitution to avoid getting one-shot by higher level beasts and maybe added a couple of points to Intelligence for the identification and use of magical items.


    It sounded solid enough, and Simon began to distribute his points. He removed 2 points from Intelligence, lowering it to the average of 10 and giving him 12 total to spend, then added 4 of those to Agility, 2 to Endurance, 4 to Fortitude, and 2 to Constitution, just to round out his HP to the default. He reviewed his character sheet again, with the new numbers temporarily in place:


    Health: 100


    Stamina: 120


    Mana: 100


    Morale: 100


    Strength: 8


    Agility: 13


    Constitution: 10


    Endurance: 12


    Charisma: 8


    Intelligence: 10


    Fortitude: 14


    ???: ???


    Everything looked good, but... wait. There was one last skill. He''d skimmed right over it last time, but he focused on it now. Some unknown skill at an unknown level was tacked on to the bottom of his stat sheet. He tried to call up more information on it, but it was greyed out and didn''t retrieve a window when prompted.


    "What''s the deal with this mystery stat?" he asked the AI, only to receive no response.


    Ooookay. Well, he''d worry about that when it came up. It was probably some kind of end game stat that wouldn''t unlock until he reached the level cap. No need to think about it now. Instead, he locked in his stat allotments, confirmed it with a dialogue box, and saw the changes to his avatar happen in real time.


    He still looked like his not exactly toned self, but there was a leanness about him that hadn''t been there before. He got the impression that his body could move fast if he willed it, which was exactly what he''d wanted. The increase in Constitution had an interesting effect, too, making him look healthier overall. There was a livelier color in his cheeks, his eyes had more vitality in them, and he''d gotten rid of the slightly tired look his character had before, though he imagined that was due to the increase in Endurance more than anything else.


    The changes in Intelligence and Fortitude were impossible for him to see, but he imagined he''d feel them in game. Overall, he was left looking fitter than he did in real life, but there were still a few changes Simon wanted to make. Digging into the menu, he adjusted the height sliders to make himself a little taller--mostly to balance out his new frame. He replaced his dull, sand-brown, short-cropped hair with jet black strands with highlights that almost shone a bit purple in the game''s lighting effects. He made his cut medium-length, styled in a way his wavy hair would never allow. Then he added a well-trimmed beard to his face, darkening his eyebrows to match it. Ever since puberty, Simon had only been able to manage a fine dusting of peach fuzz. This actually made him look his age, instead of someone who was carded every time he bought a beer.


    Simon was content with the rest of his appearance. His bright, clear blue eyes were his best feature, in his opinion, and he could live with everything else. He''d never been one to make some idealized version of himself in a game, and aside from a few small tweaks, he wasn''t about to start now.


    Locking in his appearance, he was prompted by the voice once more: "What shall I call you, hunter?"


    "Arheis," he responded automatically.


    The name came as easily to Simon as his own. Arheis was the name he''d used in every game he''d played from the age of thirteen, when he''d first read the book in which that character appeared. A noble but flawed paladin, Arheis was the kind of man Simon had once aspired to be. Defender of the weak. Seeker of truth. Badass of unquestionable strength.


    Perhaps his real life had deviated from those goals, but in game, he could fill Arheis'' golden boots quite nicely. His persona would take on a different form in Apex--it always had--but that didn''t change his devotion to the name and everything it meant to him.


    A scroll stretched across the screen, his new name penned at its center. The text asked him to confirm, and Simon did so. As soon as the scroll disappeared, he felt an odd sense of awareness pass over him, heralded by a new concept of his very identity. He wasn''t Simon the "between jobs" programmer any longer. He was Arheis, the mighty hunter recruited to put an end to the deadly beasts that were encroaching on human lands. His actual self was still in there, and Simon felt fully in control of his own mind, but a drive and purpose filled him that hadn''t been there before.


    He wanted to spawn into the world and start honing his skills, testing his mettle against creatures of all shapes and sizes, but there was still a bit more left to do. He hadn''t picked a class yet, for starters.


    Apex had an interesting way of dealing with classes. They were really just a collection of stats and skill packages, with a couple bonus feats on the side. But rather than lock you into one definite path, the game let players build their characters as they chose. Upon allocating stats, it would suggest an appropriate class package for the player''s desired build, but it could be rejected as easily as hitting a button. For those players who didn''t really care about stats, it was also possible to just choose a class and have stats auto-assigned every level to meet the ideal build. And for those truly adventurous souls--or, in Simon''s opinion, those people who had no idea what they wanted to do--it was possible to abstain from choosing a class entirely, building stats and selecting skills at the player''s whim.


    Simon had never been that ambitious. He was comfortable with the Striker package, and with his boost to Agility he assumed the game would suggest that class for him just as it had in every other installment. But as he continued to class selection, the recognizable icon of two twin daggers crossed over one another was not what he saw. Instead it was a shield with a spear centered over top.


    Weird. He couldn''t remember any classes that used spears.


    Your stat choices suggest the following class would be the perfect fit for your playstlye: Guardian. Would you like to learn more about this class?


    Intrigued, Simon agreed to see more. The window that opened next did include more text but also, more interestingly, a video of his avatar in what looked like flashy end game armor wielding a spear and shield combo that seemed like it could pierce through the toughest hides and knock any enemy senseless. He watched as the representation of himself thrust, blocked, countered, leapt through the air, and threw his spear like a javelin with an insane amount of swiftness, coordination, and flourish.


    Holy shit, he thought. Sign me up for that.


    Not wanting to go off of looks alone, however, he read the description beside the video.


    Guardians are widely considered to be the Iron Wall of Estalia. They are swift and deadly fighters, stalwart in their defenses and relentless in battle. While extremely capable of defending their allies, Guardians can deal potent and precise damage to beasts of all sizes.


    Favored Stats: Fortitude, Endurance, Constitution, Agility


    So that was why it suggested Guardian--he''d put a hefty amount of his points into Fortitude, and spent points across all four of those stats. It was definitely perfect for his build, but maybe not his playstyle. Simon had never been much of a tank. Since he rarely grouped, the extra defense only came in handy for very specific encounters. He much preferred to rush down beasts with a fast, glass cannon type class like the Striker.


    But there was something appealing about the Guardian, and it was only a handful of starting skills and some suggestions on where to spend his points in the future. If he decided he hated it, he could just go with something else later. It would set him back from the optimal min-max build, but he''d never been too interested in the Apex''s meta-game, anyway.


    Still, Simon decided to look through the rest of the choices, just in case. A video accompanied each, all showing his avatar in end game armor performing insane feats of athleticism and casting spells like nobody''s business. After watching those, he carefully read the descriptions:


    Troubadours are the scribes and songmasters of Estalia. They weave (slightly) exaggerated tales of adventure into their hunting style, bolstering themselves and their allies. While most Troubadours prefer to be in the back lines playing an instrument, some have been known to go toe-to-toe with the most vicious of foes.


    Favored Stats: Charisma, Fortitude, Endurance, Intelligence


    Empaths are psychically connected to the world around them. Able to anticipate the movements of beasts and allies alike, they provide timely support and are extremely adept at crippling the enemy. There is a price to pay for such power, however, and Empaths are typically frail hunters who must be protected by others to reach their true potential.


    Favored Stats: Intelligence, Charisma, Fortitude


    Rangers are almost always the first to arrive at a hunt. They are excellent trackers and are always prepared to take on even the most menacing of foes. Swift and strong, they have no trouble using bows, guns, and blades to get the job done. Some Rangers even enlist the aid of small beasts to help them and their allies.


    Favored Stats: Agility, Strength, Endurance


    Herbalists are the lynchpin of any successful hunt. Using herbal medicines and a specially-designed crossbow, they can heal and cure allies while weakening foes--all from a safe distance. Though Herbalists typically play a support role, they¡¯re not averse to swapping out their blunted bolts for something more lethal.


    Favored Stats: Fortitude, Intelligence, Charisma


    Strikers are the bane of every beast in Estalia. They are swift and relentless in their attacks, striking weak points and evading away before the enemy even realizes what¡¯s happened. Armed with twin daggers, they are proficient in whittling their foes down as quickly and efficiently as possible.


    Favored Stats: Agility, Endurance


    Juggernauts excel at one thing above all else: Hitting beasts as hard as possible, repeatedly, until they¡¯re dead. The amount of raw power they can harness through their weapons is unmatched. And while not the most intellectual of hunters, Juggernauts are well-respected in the community--or perhaps just feared.


    Favored Stats: Strength, Endurance


    Striker was still tempting, if only because of how comfortable he was with the skills and the weapons involved. But he''d just walked off his job. Right now wasn''t the time for comfort. Now was the time to try new things. It was the whole reason he''d caved and bought the NeuroJak in the first place. Simon wanted something different from his daily life.


    And so when he was prompted again to choose a class, he chose Guardian.


    "As a Guardian, you have access to the following bonus trait," the voice began, bringing up another screen. It showed an icon of a sturdy shield, with the word "Stalwart" below it. "Stalwart reduces the Morale penalty after dying. Advanced levels of Stalwart allow the Guardian to boost the Morale of allies to offer them the same protections."


    Sounded useful, but again had better perks for grouping. He''d probably max it out to the rank below whichever one granted those bonuses, then focus on something else.


    "Please choose two more traits from the list below:"


    Simon scanned the long list of traits, his eyes widening a bit in surprise. They''d added more since the last time he played this series. A lot more. The sheer number of traits was almost overwhelming, and he found himself skipping to the ones from older titles that he already knew were useful.


    Attentive: You spot tracks and other markings more quickly than other hunters, and can record them with higher accuracy.


    Hardy: You are highly resistant to extreme temperatures, and you will recover more quickly from poison, blight, and other ailments.


    Resourceful: You make the most of every kill, carving more--and rarer--materials than other hunters.


    Shrewd: You are an expert haggler and can command a lower price at most shops. Exotic items are also more likely to be in stock.


    Scholarly: It takes you far less time to research a beast¡¯s strengths and weaknesses than it does other hunters.


    Adept: You can learn Abilities from other classes and races far more easily and with less time invested.


    Relentless: You can sometimes defy death itself, and are unable to be felled by bleeding, poison, or other ailments.


    Well, Adept and Relentless had never failed him in the past. With the former he could shore up his weaknesses with abilities from other classes, and the latter was self-explanatory.


    He locked those in, and once he did, the feminine voice addressed him again. "Are you happy with your choices? Please be advised that the road to change is arduous, and you must stay the course for at least twenty levels before choosing another."


    "Twenty levels? Jesus, that''s new."


    "Your class defines your role within the ecosystem of Estalia. It is as important to your survival as your skills and experience. For that reason, players must commit to truly learning a class and contributing to their spawn area before choosing another."


    Huh. Simon hadn''t expected an answer to his complaint. That seemed fair enough, though a lot different from what he was used to. It made him consider changing back to Striker just because he knew he''d enjoy it. But without a job, twenty levels would go by in a flash. Simon could re-spec without any trouble, and who knew. Maybe Guardian really was the class for him.


    "I''m good with what I''ve got," he confirmed verbally.


    "Then welcome to the world of Estalia, Guardian Arheis. Prepare yourself for an experience like none you''ve ever felt before. Loading tutorial in 3... 2... 1..."

 Thanks for reading!

    As of August 22nd, 2018, I''ve taken down all but the first three chapters of Hunter''s Bond to comply with Amazon''s Kindle Unlimited terms of service.


    If you''re just finding this book, I want to thank you for reading! The full version is now available on Amazon! If you''re interested in supporting me, the book is $4.99 or free to borrow if you''re a Kindle Unlimited member.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    https://amzn.to/2Lyi2Fk


    Stay tuned for Hunter''s Choice: Apex Chronicles Book 2 coming late 2018 or early 2019!