"Here's my room," Victor said, glancing at Adyr.
"Looks like mine's a bit further down," Adyr replied, checking the ID numbers on the doors. The rooms were lined up in order, clearly marked.
"Then I'll be in the playroom once I'm done here. See you there?" Victor said as he unlocked the door with his card.
Despite Victor's privileged background, he was here under the same conditions as Adyr. That was one of the core principles of this newly formed division—every player would start equal. The only things that would set them apart were effort, talent, and the merit they earned through it.
"Sure," Adyr said, then kept walking.
The floor was massive, with 140 rooms—more than the total number of players. After following the signs through the maze-like corridors, he eventually found his room. The ID number matched the one on his card.
He held the card to the digital scanner beside the door. A beep followed, and the door unlocked automatically.
The first thing he noticed was the absence of windows. Still, the room was lit in a way that mimicked natural daylight, without the sterile feel of artificial light.
It was spacious. Bigger than the private study rooms at the university library. Immediately to the right of the entrance was the bathroom, complete with toilet, sink, and bathtub. He gave it a quick glance without stepping in. Everything a person might need seemed to be there, from toothbrushes to shower gel.
He turned his attention to the main room. A large double bed sat against the wall. Across from it, a big TV was mounted above a wide desk. A built-in computer was embedded into the desk surface. In one corner, two leather armchairs and a low table were clearly meant for guests.
The place reminded him of the five-star hotels from his previous life.
After scanning the room, his eyes landed on a wrist device sitting on the desk.
It was metallic, about two centimeters wide, and looked ordinary at first glance. But the moment he strapped it onto his wrist, it came to life.
Though it looked metallic, the material flexed slightly against his skin. A screen lit up with a soft glow.
[Synchronizing…]
Seconds later, it displayed:
[Welcome, Adyr]
The screen changed again, this time revealing an interface that resembled a smartphone.
"A smartwatch?" Adyr muttered, raising an eyebrow.
It was touch-responsive. The icons were simple—calls, alarms, calendar, and a few unnamed apps.
After tapping through a few menus, he found a profile section. It showed his merit points, currently sitting at zero, his ranking among other players, and a power scale whose function he could only guess.
He also found a new bank account opened in his name, with 1,000 credits already deposited as a monthly salary. It was more than the 600 Marielle earned working as an assistant manager at the orphanage.
Suddenly, he went from a broke student with barely a hundred credits to someone living on a middle-class salary. He wasn't rich, but it was a clear step up.
Overall, the device was practical and sat on his wrist without discomfort.
He thought I should get one for Marielle and Niva, smirking slightly. Niva, especially, would be obsessed with it.
After finishing with the wrist device, Adyr turned his attention to the computer. Like the watch, it greeted him with a simple message:
[Welcome, Adyr]
At first glance, the system looked no different from a standard computer. But one icon stood out—Player Forum.
He clicked it.
A basic registration screen appeared, asking only for a username. Below it, a note explained that choosing a name wasn't mandatory. It was simply an option for those who preferred to stay anonymous to other players.
Adyr chose to use it. It would be useful later, especially when dealing with others. Without hesitation, he typed in the alias he had used frequently in his previous life.
Then the screen flashed with a message:
[This username violates community guidelines and cannot be accepted. Please choose a different username.]
"What the hell?" Adyr muttered, frowning.
That name had been given to him by the media and the public in his past life, when he was still a serial killer. He hadn't expected it to violate forum rules. Not until now. Especially not in this world.
Guess I'll go with someone less famous, he thought, then typed it in.
[The username "J.T.Ripper" has been registered successfully.]
After logging in, a clean and functional page filled with various icons opened in front of him.
At the top were general sections like forum rules, shared space guidelines, merit guide, and event schedules. Just below, a large icon labeled [Trade] stood out.
When he clicked it, the page was still empty, but it appeared to be a system where players could trade information or possibly even items with one another using their personal merits.
That idea alone made Adyr pause. Could objects from the game be transferred into this world? Considering what the game had already shown so far, it didn't seem impossible.
There was also a section where players could create public threads and engage in live chat.
A few users had already started chatting:
TheKing: Hey, can anyone hear me?
LittleBunny: Nope. Try again, man.
TheKing: How about now?
LittleBunny: Still nothing, bro.
EducatedTeacher: She's messing with you, King. Don't mind her.
MasterBates: LittleBunny... are you a girl?
"Master Bates?" Adyr chuckled as he realized who it was.
If you're going to use your real surname, what's the point of hiding behind an alias? Then again, it was obvious Victor was just in it for the fun.
As he continued watching the chat, more users started joining the conversation. What caught his attention, though, was that not everyone was from Shelter City 9. Which meant the network wasn't local.
So Henry Bates had been telling the truth. Other shelter cities had also formed their own divisions, gathering surviving players under the same structure and offering them the same advantages.
After browsing the site a little longer, Adyr made a decision. He opened a new forum thread.
Have you heard of Latin?
In the post, he briefly mentioned encountering a native race in the game that spoke the language. Without going into too much detail, he also shared a few basic facts about it.
His primary goal was to earn merit by sharing information, since merit also functioned as a kind of currency. If someone else reported the language before he did, its value would drop—and so would the reward.
He also wanted to find out if anyone else recognized the language.
The question of whether this world, or the game world, had any connection to his old one still lingered in his mind. Even the smallest clue could help him make sense of it.