…Through unfair means

Mary Dyson gave the mental command that swapped out her Cleric's Renown Armor for the superior Fenrir set. In response, the psychic link in her helmet flooded her real body with a wave of satisfaction that was truly unreal. It wasn't just her character's stats that were going up, she truly felt more powerful, healthy, and alive. It was like being wrapped up in a blanket of pure rapture, and she could scarcely imagine a life without this feeling.

It had taken months of farming ogres in the Nebilhalf mountain caves to gather enough renowned tokens to buy the whole set, made worse by a criminally bad glitch made by the seemingly incompetent design team that made the drops impossible to loot on some of the bodies. But none of that seemed to matter now.

Her in-game body glowed with holy light, and her guild-mates came up to congratulate her. Through the psychic link, she could feel the praise down to the marrow in her bones. It filled her entire being. Beneath the helmet she wore, her bloodshot eyes, outlined by dark purple bags of skin, rolled back into her head as the feeling overwhelmed her.

Time ceased to exist; for a while she floated, then it all came crashing down. Her real body shook, her muscles cramped, her breathing became shallow and harsh. Her heartbeat became erratic.

As she clenched her fists, the dried skin on her knuckles cracked. Every time it took longer to achieve, each time the duration was shorter. When she had first started playing True Life, the bliss had lasted for days at a time, now only a few minutes and it had worn off already.

Cursing under her breath, she began making plans to upgrade her character's staff. The Gardens Staff was not something for the faint- hearted. It would be the longest quest she had ever undertaken. Easily six months of constant farming. The instance took three hours to clear, and that was with an experienced team. Forts went vulnerable at noon and six, so she would be hard pressed to get two runs in between each vulnerability. Only the ending boss dropped the necessary components for the staff, and then only rarely. Veludens were truly cruel people for programming such abysmal drop rates.

She quickly planned on reducing the six months to four by forgoing sleep and skipping meal times. She had to have it, she needed it. She would do whatever it took to get more of it.

A voice from the real world came from outside her helmet.

She peeked out from underneath it. The outside world was grey and dreary compared to True Life, but it was improving. Holes in the walls had been repaired. Broken glass had been replaced. Clean curtains hung over the windows, and fresh clean carpeting lined the floors. The scent of food being prepared hung in the air.

Before her stood a lizard lady in simple woolen robes, a basket of laundry to be folded held in her hands. "Mrs. Dyson," the priestess said. "Food is on the table. Come downstairs and I'll tidy up in here while you eat."

Mary clenched her teeth. "You know I can't waste time eating at the table, we've got guildies refusing to show up for fort defense, and I have to prepare for the tribunal. Did you clean the bathrooms yet, An'Sol? I'm not taking a shower unless they are clean."

"Yes, I already did that this morning," she sighed.

Mary looked around in confusion. "This morning? Didn't you just get here?"

An'Sol pulled aside a curtain, revealing the amber glow of twilight. "I've been here all day, Mrs. Dyson. It's night time already."

Mary sat up and tilted her helmet up even further. "It is really? I could have sworn it wasn't even midday yet."

Suddenly a device began chirping at her.

"What is that?" she asked, looking around with wild eyes.

"It's just your vone, Mrs. Dyson." An'Sol walked over and removed the device from its charging station.

"My vone hasn't worked in years," Mary accused, as if she suspected some kind of trick.

"Don't you remember? I got you a new one on Monday.

"Today is Monday."

"No, today is Friday. You've had it for a week now."

Mary looked around again and got confirmation from the holographic wall calendar. "Huh, I could have sworn it was Monday."

The phone continued to ring while Mary chewed on a dirty fingernail worriedly.

"Shall I answer it?"

"Wha? Oh.. oh, yes. Um, I guess I'll answer it."

To An'Sol's eternal surprise, Mary switched off the helmet. Gathering her filthy hair back into a makeshift pony-tail, Mary yanked her deteriorated body over to the phone and activated it. A window appeared in the air with what looked to her like a werewolf in it.

"Who is this?"

"Oh, hi," she said pleasantly. "My name is Ilrica Faolan, and you don't know me, but I'm a classmate of your kid."

"Who is this, really?"

Ilrica chuckled. "No, it's really me. Anyway, Gerald looks so pitiful sitting by himself in class all the time, I kinda feel sorry for him, so I was thinking of doing something to cheer him up."

Mary snickered. "Did Gerald put you up to this?"

"No, in fact he doesn't even know I'm calling. It's just... you know, he's the only human here. He's hilariously out of his league. I thought if you could tell me what kind of things he likes we could help him have a good day."

Mary snorted. "How much money did he pay you?" She looked around. "Is this a joke? Am I on one of those net shows?"

Ilrica's ears dropped. "Um, no trick, just a friend wanting to know what kind of stuff he likes."

Mary laughed. "Look, sweetie, you need to do your homework before you prank someone. Gerald doesn't have any friends, okay? Anyone who spends time around him ends up in the hospital. When he was a kid all the others kids were terrified of him. The only one who didn't run away was because she didn't have bones to break."

Mary turned to An'Sol. "Can you believe this person? Who is dumb enough to prank long-distance across the galaxy? This is one super expensive joke." Then something occurred to Mary and she got angry. "This better not be a collect call!"

The Priestess was more believing. She walked over and bent into frame so that Ilrica could see her. "Look, I've known Gerald for years, okay? He's a nice person, but you need to stay away from him, for your own safety. He's a walking demolition site."

Ilrica's jaw hung open. She was at a complete loss for words. "Have I called the wrong number?"

Mary waved condescendingly. "Nope, this is the Dyson residence. Okay, well thanks for the laugh, sweetie, but I'm going to go eat dinner now."

As she moved to end the call, Ilrica shook her head and blurted out one last thing. "Well, are there any human holidays coming up? What does he like for them?"

Mary shrugged. "He used to like chocolate eggs for Easter," then switched off the phone.

Mary wiped a forming tear from her face, creating a small clean spot amid her crow's feet. Laughing one last time, she looked down at the True Life helmet at her feet.

"You know what? I think I'll eat dinner at the table tonight," she said, perking up.

Priestess An'Sol clapped her hands together. "That is wonderful!"

Then the vone rang again.