The Gene of the Ancients (Rogue Merchant Book #2): LitRPG Series by Roman Prokofiev (ebook reader for comics .TXT) 📗

“We’ve heard all about it. Congratulations on your incredible results,” the host commented.

“So going back to simulations... While watching the behavior of our NPCs, we’ve concluded that it’s no different from people in our reality, with allowance for their surroundings and era, of course. They are as alive as you and I.”

“But aren’t NPCs controlled by their AI? It’s just a program!”

“And what controls you? Are you sure it’s not an advanced version of AI? I’m not, personally. Our conscience is determined by a set of reflexes and instincts, the rules instilled in us in our childhood, behavioral vectors — no different than an AI controlling our NPCs.”

“Your words are a paradox. But all of your worlds are a digital illusion. They are kept on the hard drives of your computers. They don’t truly exist, while our world entirely consists of matter!”

“Of matter...” Andrei said with a smile and knocked on the table with an open palm. “What have I just done?”

“What do you mean? You’ve knocked on the table.”

“What do my hand and the table consist of? Flesh and bones and wood, and they consist of molecules, then atoms. Atoms are surrounded by empty space. Sorry for lecturing you on Physics 101. So what do we come to? We consist of matter, and it consists of empty space. I’ve just knocked with empty space on empty space. Isn’t it a paradox? It should be impossible. We’re just as illusory as the persons you were talking about. We’re only digital empty space.”

Silence fell on the room. Balabanov drank a glass of water and looked over the quiet audience.

“Whatever the truth is, this knowledge won’t change anything in our world,” he said. “So what’s my conclusion? While creating Sphere, we created a new world. While creating NPCs, we created living beings. It’s no game. It’s a parallel dimension created by our own hands.”

* * *

The firewood quietly crackled as it burned down and candle lights flickered in the darkness, reflected in Weldy’s eyes. The girl had dolled up for my visit; she even had her hair done. I had never seen her so pretty. Going by a gorgeous low-cut dress, elegant emerald earrings, and subtle make-up, she clearly took effort to prepare for the date. She graciously accepted the large bouquet of local flowers, but flatly dismissed the bottle of wine I had bought in the closest shop.

“No, tonight, we’re going to drink my wine. It’s special, I made it myself!” she declared.

The wine was red and sharp, tasting of ripe southern grapes. I noticed a hint of an unknown herb that I couldn’t quite narrow down.

“Do they serve meat with red wine in your world, too, HotCat?” Weldy asked as she put glasses on the table.

“Honestly, I’m not an expert on this. I think so. White wine goes with cheese, red wine goes with meat.”

Weldy cheerfully clapped her hands, gesturing me to refill the glasses. Frederic kept lurking under my feet, circling around the legs of the chair, purring, arching his back, and flashing the yellow lamps of his eyes.

“Hey, do you...look the same over there? I’ve heard tales that the players can choose any appearance when they enter our world. Is it true?”

Her question perplexed me. At character creation, I had based my looks on my real appearance, although with some improvements, enhancing my build, height, and changing the color of my eyes and hairdo. In real life, I had put on about ten pounds — staying in Sphere left no time for sport. Each time, I promised myself that I would change my online schedule as soon as I finished with urgent business, that I would start dedicating time to the real world, to my wife and my family. But more and more stuff kept coming up. The nature of making money in that game required constant online presence.

“Well, almost,” I finally replied. “Almost the same.”

“Almost? I hope you aren’t an old man or a young boy over there?”

“No, my looks here are copied from my real looks...I mean...”

Weldy burst into laughter. The wine was strong and packed quite a punch.

“Yes, you’ve already said that our world’s not real, and only you players are,” she said through laughter. “So what do you think about a girl who’s not real?”

She defiantly moved her bare shoulders, threw her head back, and giggled. I saw her pearly-white teeth flash in the darkness, reflecting light.

“You’re too beautiful to be real,” I mumbled, trying to avoid staring at the low cut of her dress. “In truth, I’ve been smitten with you since the first day of our meeting.”

“You’re saying all the right answers!” Weldy said as she smiled and started eating. “Tell me, do you have someone in your life over there?”

“I’ve already told you that I don’t,” I replied, smiling back. She didn’t have to know the truth. I didn’t want to blend the two worlds together. Not to mention that were I to say “yes,” I would most likely lose reputation and the magic around us would dissipate. Maybe the whole enterprise with Weldy would go down the drain. She was a good girl, after all, not the sort to get involved with a married man, even if he was married in another world, the real one, and she was just an NPC. I had to see everything through, get Weldy’s secret quest, and make her my pawn, both for the fun of it and because I really liked the girl.

“Yes, I remember. It’s just...” She faltered, afraid to tell me something.

I seized the moment to quietly treat Frederic with a piece of chicken. Pleased as punch, the cat grabbed his prey and leapt into the corner, giving us away with a muffled “meow.”

“HotCat, please