Chapter 6: First Players

The chime of the entrance bell still echoed in the air as Ethan leaned on the counter, watching the first three customers of Level Up Arcade's grand reopening begin to explore the space.

James, Trevor, and Amanda fanned out instinctively, like muscle memory from their youth had taken over. Their eyes were lit with nostalgia—and a touch of disbelief.

"Dude," James murmured, brushing his fingers across the side of the Galaga cabinet. "This is the same one. I remember this dent. I fell into this trying to dodge Trevor's soda toss."

Trevor, already halfway through a round of Mortal Kombat II, grinned without looking away from the screen. "You're lucky you didn't break your face. I still won that match, by the way."

Amanda had her jacket tied around her waist, sneakers planted firmly on the Dance Dance Revolution pad, already tapping her feet in sync with the flashing arrows. "You guys go ahead and reminisce. I'm about to hit a full combo."

Ethan couldn't help but smile. Watching the machines come to life was one thing—watching people actually enjoy them was something else entirely.

The neon lighting bathed the room in a nostalgic glow, the hum and clatter of the cabinets filling the air with energy. The place felt like it had heart again.

James eventually drifted over to the Time Crisis II cabinet, picking up the plastic light gun and motioning to Trevor. "Co-op?"

"Like the old days."

They dropped coins into the slots, the machines roaring to life with flashing lights and dramatic music. The screen stuttered into an opening cinematic as they took cover behind the plastic shields, aiming down the sights like they were thirteen again.

"Damn, the recoil on these still feels solid," Trevor said, smiling like a kid.

Amanda was already cycling through other machines—Metal Slug, The Simpsons, even a quick go at Tetris, where she somehow pulled off a clean triple combo and grinned to herself.

They weren't just playing—they were reliving something.

And even though the machines were cleaned, polished, and freshly repaired, they still felt authentic.

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The bell above the entrance rang again. Ethan turned to see a pair of teenagers step through the door, one in a bomber jacket, the other in a backpack so big it could've housed a small PC.

The taller one blinked in surprise. "Yo, this place is legit."

Ethan greeted them with a nod and stepped out from behind the counter. "Welcome to Level Up Arcade. First day open in a long time. Everything takes tokens—machine is by the door. Pricing's on the sign."

The kid in the jacket glanced around, impressed. "This is all original stuff?"

"Most of it," Ethan said. "Some machines were barely hanging on when I got here. A lot of repairs, a lot of elbow grease. But yeah—everything here is playable."

Backpack Kid nudged his friend. "They've got Time Crisis. You ever play that?"

"No, but I've seen the memes."

Ethan chuckled. "You're in for a ride."

They headed toward the token machine, dropping a few dollars and collecting the familiar clink of metal tokens in their palms before heading off toward the cabinets.

[Customer Satisfaction: +2%]

[Daily Revenue: $17.00]

Small notifications hovered briefly in Ethan's vision, subtle but satisfying. Progress, both digital and real.

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Over the next hour, more people trickled in.

A woman in her twenties who spent nearly fifteen minutes playing Frogger and giggling every time she got flattened.

A father and son duo who gravitated immediately to Pac-Man, with the dad trying to teach his kid the "tunnel trick."

Ethan took the time to greet each person, explaining how the games worked, pointing out which cabinets had multiplayer, which ones ate tokens if you didn't insert them just right (he made a mental note to fix that), and encouraging them to ask if they had any trouble.

The system even nudged him once:

[Business Basics – Passive Effect: New Customers feel more welcome when greeted by owner. Returning likelihood increased.]

The feedback loop was working.

People came in, played, smiled, and started to remember what arcades used to feel like.

They weren't just playing games—

They were connecting again.

Back at the machines James and Trevor were sweating now, both locked into the final boss on Time Crisis.

Amanda leaned against the machine beside them, sipping a soda from the small vending machine Ethan had stocked earlier in the week.

"This is crazy," she said, glancing toward Ethan as he wiped down the pinball machine glass. "You fixed all of this yourself?"

"Well," Ethan said, glancing at a flickering system notification, "mostly. Got a little help."

Amanda raised an eyebrow but didn't press. "Seriously though. You've done something cool here. This feels like it did when we were kids—but somehow better."

Ethan gave a sheepish smile. "Thanks. Still working on a few things. No tickets yet. No prize system installed. I wanted to get people in the door first—make sure the games still mattered before I start giving away rubber balls and plushies."

James nodded, catching his breath as the YOU WIN screen flashed on the Time Crisis cabinet. "You nailed the feel, man. This place is real. It's not just some themed bar with a couple of broken machines—it's the real deal."

[Customer Satisfaction: +5% – First Nostalgia Bonus Achieved!]

[Business Basics Skill Progress: 45% to Level 2]

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As the sun began to lower outside, the arcade's lights stood brighter by contrast.

The machines kept humming. Laughter echoed from the back corner. Someone shouted "Finish him!" followed by a flurry of joystick clicks.

Ethan stood behind the counter again, taking it all in.

He still had more to do—marketing, events, upgrades—but right now, the place was open.

People were playing.

And for the first time in a long time, Level Up Arcade had players again.