Admin: Angels and Demons (3)

When players first found themselves in the game, they were prepared for many things. Taught by the bitter experience of those who came befor

When players first found themselves in the game, they were prepared for many things. Taught by the bitter experience of those who came before them, they already had a decent remote understanding of many things that previous Players had to learn through blood and sweat. Some had memorized the approximate maps of the floating islands compiled by enthusiasts who had too much free time not to spend it on their favorite pastime. While others had already memorized a couple of alchemy recipes shared on the forums, and thus achieved a special rank among the other Players.

That of Alchemy slave, or future potion dispensers. Many a unique nicknames and titles for all kinds of Players.

In general, the newbies prepared as best they could. Many had decided in advance exactly where they would go or what to do in the future, who they would team up with, and how they would level up.

Given the unexpected, and unrestrained joyful news that [Titanomachy] had decided to take mercy on the Players who had been waiting patiently for their turn with the game; masking their actual situation with a bunch of beautiful words like ‘passed preliminary tests of the game world's impact on Players’. Somehow in their apology they are still inserting advertisements for the game. ‘Our game is so incredible that we had to conduct a whole study so you wouldn't all die of hunger while enjoying it’; one could only applaud such marketing ingenuity.

In any case, the new Players were prepared, as much as possible, for many things.

But not for finding themselves God knows where, with no Sky Islands in sight.

The scene that unfolded before the new Player who had just taken his first excited step forward, freezing, their face contorting in a grimace of confusion, trying to determine how the promised paradise gardens had changed so dramatically and at what point a ceiling of rocks and boulders had appeared above them.

The answer to this question, however, never materialized before the Player's face, but was replaced by a stranger’s voice that reached him.

"Hey there! Anyone there?!"

Turning toward the source of the voice, the Player looked around, before noticing a newbie Player just like them not far from them, waving, approaching after a second.

"Houston, we have a problem." With a joking smile, the unknown Player remarked pithily.

"You should have gone with Kansas instead, it fits the situation better," The newbie looked at the strange surroundings they had found themselves in, trying to fit the image with the descriptions that the forum had described the starting area. Experimentally kicking a stone lying under his foot, as expected, a dull thud resounded as the rock rolled a couple of steps before stopping.

It was as if the stone was looking reproachfully at the human who had just shown it a completely unprovoked act of aggression.

The Newbie, however, didn't spend too long examining the disgruntled stone before, looking at the stranger with a question on his lips. "I haven't read anything about underground islands before – think it's a new location?"

"Well, there are no other options," Shrugged the stranger, as he himself looked around before shaking his head. Nothing that he looked at, looked familiar at all.

"And after I studied and memorized the Island maps for the best grinding and looting spots… All wasted."

"On the other hand… No point crying over it now, right?" The stranger shrugged as he replied, extending his hand forward, "Name's Jack."

"Nice to meet you, Jack," The newbie responded as he also extended his hand, "Lingram."

"Well then, Lingram, since we've sorted out the formalities, and we can't figure out what's happening with our surroundings..." Looking around himself, Jack nodded to the side, towards the silhouette of monsters in the distance. "Shall we go hunt some mobs?"

"Who in their right mind would refuse such a suggestion?" Lingram broke into a smile, after which he looked around, trying to see if he could find a weapon to use. He could only click his tongue as he could only see rocks all around him.

"Tch, gotta have to start with stones, huh? And here I was expecting to get an iron sword from the start… Well, beggars can’t be choosers, let’s bash some demon heads with rocks!"

***

I watched as a million ants, what the Players looked like as I watched from on high, gradually spreading across the grounds I had prepared. They were looking at the underground caves with suspicion, it was after all nothing like the descriptions on the forums. But, quickly, the promise of exciting gameplay overrode their hesitation, and they started bashing all sorts of demons with the boulders strewn all over the map.

Mobs that looked nothing like the Imps that they were expecting, instead all sorts of magical creatures that, should they be interested in the lore, would turn out to be the result of magical experimentations.

Rats, bats, spiders, living slime, and large carnivorous worms—basically everything players would expect to see in ‘starter cave locations’. Seeing that the new Players were getting into the groove of things, I started surveying the older Players in the Ruined City.

They were gradually figuring out the mechanics of the enormous, impenetrable dome, behind which lay both the first Raid boss of the game and my salvation from the millions of Players who would follow the current wave. Or to be more precise, I was watching Jabberwocky, my first, and worst, Problem Player. And I have to admit...

I hated Jabberwocky.

I've disliked him all along from the beginning, to be honest, as he wrecked the game progression and had forced me to improvise shit about Angels and what not. But, until this stage, it was not to the point where I would billow out steam from my ears when I look or even think about him. Though, to be fair, the current situation was not wholly Jabberwocky’s fault.

The problem lay in my genius. The solution I’ve come up with, to write off a million almost identical locations as temporal anomalies and the accompanying confusing timeline correction system, was indeed brilliant. The issue, however, was how exactly I was supposed to trigger a ‘time storm’ tied to the temporal anomaly preserved inside the impenetrable dome.

Initially, the idea was to trigger the time storm as a result of the Players’ battle with the first full-fledged Raid boss of the game world, but this wasn't set in stone yet. I could easily change the activation conditions of the storm, while avoiding the problem where Players, by some miraculous coincidence, wouldn't activate the temporal anomaly. Nothing is impossible with my Players.

Especially considering that I hadn't yet issued any specific quest to the Players.

I could, for instance, simply tie the activation of the time storm to the very act of opening the barrier. Explain that the barrier was what contained this anomaly, and that the Boss turned against the Players precisely because they broke everything in his carefully arranged plans.

And, accordingly, the Child and the possibility of exploring this storm would occur after killing the Boss. This could even be spun in some good lore moment, say, that the Mad Prophet was growing the Child under controlled conditions, in the controlled time anomaly. And it would be the Players who, after killing him, activate some magical seal that releases the Child.

And so, that's what I did, change the activation requirement for the time anomaly from defeating the boss to just removing the barrier to the boss instead.

Thus, voilà! The Players could now enjoy both interacting with a new NPC and a full-fledged new mini-game, all by activating all the seals spread across the Ruined City.

One problem, however, as this is where Jabberwocky enters the picture. As if he were the demiurge of the game world to my Divine status as god, he was right now warning the Players against activating, aka, releasing the seals. Suggesting; quite reasonably, I must admit, that destroying the barrier would cause some chain reaction that would lead to unfavorable results.

And the funniest thing was that just a couple of hours ago, he would have been wrong in his assumption, and I would have only welcomed his words of caution. An extra day of delay wouldn't have hurt me at all, it would only have given me time to work on new locations in my free time.

However, at the very moment the news about the influx of new Players hit me, I’ve changed the time anomaly activation procedure, and so, his caution became a problem. I didn't have a couple of extra days to enjoy the indecision of Players paranoid about consuming the game content prepared for them, thinking that it could be poisoned.

Which is unacceptable! I know that it’s a poisoned apple, but they should eat it anyway!

I needed to give the Players access to new-past game locations, and this could only be done after removing the barrier. Removing the barrier, which Jabberwocky’s constant warnings had prevented from happening.

Moreover, since there were still two seals that Jabberwocky was preventing from being broken, I couldn’t easily just make one of my AI Players ‘accidentally’ break it. After all, with how willful of the Players are, it would be easy to explain away one Player doing something in violation of agreements. Of course, considering the wave of monsters and one enraged Boss that would emerge after the seals were broken, the AI Player would probably find themselves hunted in short order; but that was a sacrifice I was willing to make.

However, considering that I needed not just to break the barrier, but to send more AI Players to activate the seals beforehand – triggering the boss early was unfeasible. None of my AI Players were in a suitable position, the path to one of the seals wasn't even cleared yet. Were I to move my AI Players now, leaving their group and simply going to activate the seals, with one of them even being ignored by mobs throughout their journey – it would raise so many questions that it would be easier for me to explain a non-existent timeline of a non-existent game world than to answer.

Another possible card in my hand was the Pirates in the form of Storm and Double. Perhaps they could be subtly directed in the direction I needed and arrange a ‘random’ activation of the seal? But even using this card, it would only clear one obstacle; with my AI Players, two out of three.

How could I accomplish the last objective? I would need another patsy…

Instantly the Player database opened in front of me, displaying their nicknames, their locations, levels, and what they are doing right now, in general, at least. Scrolling name after name, some of the names were marked with a bold red outline, my list of usual suspects.

Jim was brewing potions, and I remembered that I was running out of ideas for new recipes, so I was eagerly awaiting the work of the forums that would provide me with new variants and some working system to justify their operation.

Ja-Raja was scheming as usual, though at this moment he was trying to investigate the possibility of a future assassination attempt on himself. And watching what he was doing right now, it seems that his list of suspects was… well, everyone. He was even investigating Four! Who, as I had directed, was to have absolutely no desire to become the leader… That I have to make such a hard restriction, was, in part, because I don’t want the AI to be found out; but mostly because having an AI even think about ‘dethroning’ their leader, was just asking for trouble.

And, of course, Jabberwocky himself, who was currently holding a meeting with other high-ranking Players of the game, discussing with them the plan to open the barrier. That is, how to prevent it. I can only applaud him for his strategic thinking and refrain from giving him a smack on the head for exactly the same reason. The damn strategist.

My gaze ran over a bunch of names before stopping on one that seemed familiar to me, but which I couldn't associate with any face I knew of. A quick look at his current location also made me raise an eyebrow, and quickly teleport to the Player's location, before freezing in silent amazement as I grabbed my head, as a headache was quickly brewing.

Okay, it seems I've found a way to deal with the current problem.

And a new one, this time even more unsolvable than before.

***

Sad froze in place once again while completely covered by a huge leather cloak, if the enormous piece of skinned hide from a demon-servant could even be called a cloak. He listened intently as the demon that had stopped next to him noisily inhaled air through its nostrils and loudly roared, as if sensing Sad's presence nearby. Thankfully, after standing around, smelling the air more and then letting out a couple more furious roars, it headed away.

It hadn’t detected him, so far, his cloak was showing its usefulness.

Sad was one of the first Players of [Titanomachia’s] magnum opus, forming a friendship with his fellow companion in misfortune, Jim, whom he met on his first day playing. Together they became the ‘founding fathers’ of the local alchemy system. The only problem was that Sad's mind simply wasn't wired for alchemy. He enjoyed thinking about recipes and discussing possible improvements to crafting logistics with his friend, and he was even the one to create the trading system in the game! But, he simply didn't want to stand behind a counter every day or spend his life performing the same repetitive actions to craft potions – that suited Jim’s temperament better.

Sad still wanted to roam the game world, poke at the mobs with something sharp, and explore each nook and cranny. After all, the main draw of the entire game was the ability to see up close and touch landscapes and locations that he would never be able to see in reality. To work like a cabinet slave, remaining in one place doing the same thing over and over again, was repugnant to Sad.

So, despite the fact that he still maintained contact with Jim, still being good friends, when the new location, the new frontier opened up, Sad immediately headed there, forward to uncharted territories.

Unfortunately, as Sad quickly discovered after a two-hour respawn, the weeks he had spent working as the chief trade representative of the emerging Alchemists' Guild had made his combat abilities beyond rusting. Gradually, as he walked deeper into the ruins, gaining experience had become more difficult, as Sad had previously directed his ‘easy’ levels and the stats they granted toward Charisma for trading and Intelligence with Wisdom for alchemy.

However, as Sad firmly believed, weakness in one area didn’t mean that a Player was not combat capable, it simply means that they need to change their approach to battles. Where Sad couldn't win by direct combat – he would prevail using his cunning!

And the huge piece of demon hide he'd skinned and is wearing, was Sad's answer to his lacking combat capability. Using it, he could wander relatively easily among the demonic hordes in the Shattered City, simply covering himself with the hide at the right moment and the Demons would lose sight of him. In this case, he not only bypassed the demons' limited intelligence by hiding from their sight, but thanks to the hide's nature, he could also fool their sense of smell… Or whatever magical senses demons might have. They surely had some, considering that not every demon had eyes, ears, and other quite ordinary anatomical formations.

Once the Demon moved slightly away from Sad, he quickly rose and struck the departing demon in the back. This surprise attack didn't always work instantly, but when it did, it often meant Sad's victory in the brief combat encounter. Even if it doesn’t, the sneak attack would go a long way to helping him win in the end.

And if he encountered an opponent he couldn't defeat in battle?

Well, he would figure that out later… He was too excited about the new locale to care, especially the unlooted houses and streets of the Shattered City.

That's exactly what he was doing at the moment, focusing more on finding valuables, in the pragmatic sense of the word, than on exterminating demons. He could do the latter after getting himself a good sword, or better yet, a spear so that he could keep the opponents at a respectable distance from his body.

That's precisely why, after sneaking along the not-yet-cleared street, Sad peered inside an abandoned house, he instantly noticed symbols drawn on the floor. This immediately formed a picture in his mind about something that he had heard from other forum dwellers – a magical seal that, as many believed, was holding the central barrier in place.

Something which Jabberwocky had desperately asked everyone not to touch until he created the most suitable plan to react to the probable cataclysm that would follow the removal of this very barrier.

Sad was, of course, going to follow that directive. He wasn’t exactly planning on becoming the game’s public enemy number one.

Unfortunately, for Sad that is, his plan was destined to fail. As he walked, his feet suddenly slipped under him, walking over what he had thought to be a bare stone floor. Instinctually, a loud shout erupted from his mouth as he waved his hands around, trying in vain to keep his balance. He fell, sprawled on the floor, right on top of the glowing seal.

Feeling a slight tingling feeling on his hand, Sad looked up, to see a flickering inscription glowing with whitish light. Before long, the magic sigils lost their luster, then disappearing into nothingness.

The seal was dispelled.

Sad couldn’t even think of the impossibility of the situation he had found himself in, about how the seal was previously a good meter or two away from him, a distance that a simple fall couldn’t possibly cover. Or how, to an outside observer, the sigil literally floated until it landed directly under his hand.

No, instead, Sad was too busy panicking, thinking about the deep shit he had just landed himself in. Whether to inform Jabberwocky that he had disrupted his plan due to a ridiculous series of accidents… Or just to pretend that nothing happened at all.

Actually thinking about it, wouldn’t the latter be the better plan? It was an undiscovered sigil, and it’s not like anyone knew where he was and what he was doing in the first place.

And so, as Sad hauled ass to get as far away as possible, the invisible god of the world standing behind him, the person responsible for tripping Sad and then moving the sigil, breathed a sigh of relief.

One less problem in his game world… To be replaced by an even more serious one.

***

Sad, to my great pleasure, and thanks to a couple of emergency invisible surfaces with zero friction coefficient inserted in the right place and the necessary repositioning of the seal closer to him – had solved my problem. Or rather, participated in solving it. Signia had already given the confirmation that she had dropped Sturm and Double in the right place for them to activate the third key. And with the AI Player positioned just right to destroy the barrier at the right time, all is solved.

Sure, it was not the most elegant of solutions, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Well, completely incredible ‘coincidences’ sometimes did actually happen in life, so I could forgive myself a couple of such instances, especially if I would just be using such an ‘excuse’ for the first and only time in my life and game… Hopefully.

Besides, the Players had already done all sorts of weird things before, so such a violation of Jabberwocky's plans would not be seen as strange, and I could be off the hook scot-free. Especially since my ‘hands’ remain invisible at all times, other than the AI Player, anyway.

However, just as Sad had unexpectedly solved the sigil issue, he also created a new one. And potentially, one that is almost more dangerous than the breaking of the barrier.

Have you ever wondered how pathfinding works for mobs in relation to plotting movement paths to Players?

I never thought about it, either!

At least not until right now.

Every mob created for the game was part of a common program, one given to me by [Titanomachia]; and it is basically a Black Box for me. I simply create a mob, feed the created mob to the program, then it, operating as a general complex algorithm, freely using knowledge from the entire game in its calculations and actions, creates the mob’s pathing.

Or, it could be black magic…

In other words, unlike a Player who was limited to knowledge obtained from the external environment using their digital ears and eyes to process data, the mobs always automatically had full access to all data existing in the game. Of course, optimized only to sense their general area, otherwise the game would crash and burn from the sensory data output alone.

The mobs always knew where the Players were located, the position of all objects in their surroundings, and its own location relative to them. It took careful and deliberate simulation to make the Mobs ‘not know’ where the Players are at all time.

It had to pretend not to notice the player if they were far enough away; build its movement path relative to the surrounding objects, account for elevations and landscape features, and simulate a field of vision. And then, lastly, choose the most optimal path to the Players to engage in combat after ‘discovering’ them.

Overall, it was an incredibly complex system, especially if you don't insert game scenario conventions like viewable ‘cones of vision’ and ‘awareness scales’ like all other games do.

Not that my game had anything but conventions, of course.

Therefore, in those early days that seem so far ago, I didn't focus too heavily on this aspect of the gaming experience, instead, with a broad stroke introduced two important parameters for the game. First – that mobs couldn't destroy the landscape around them to reach Players. After all, I absolutely didn't need the nightmare of calculating what each mob could destroy in an attempt to reach the opponent. I didn't need situations like imps trying to dig underground tunnels to reach Players, and definitely didn't need mass suicide situations of mobs trying to jump to another island with living Players.

So I nipped the situation of impossible pathing to Players in the bud with words to the effect of ‘then don't build a path, who's forcing you!?’

Life. Life forces you.

In this case, ‘life’ turned out to be the brilliant simplicity of an exploit that I couldn’t ever expect to see. See, the flayed demon skin that Sad was using? It wasn't his equipment, it isn’t even classed as an equipped item, never mind a wearable item. It had never been processed, turned into a cloak or anything similar, and therefore continued to be considered an ‘interior detail’, that is, as part of the landscape, like chairs, walls, and the ground beneath the Players' feet. Meaning, it wasn't treated as a destructible item like Players’ equipment were.

Sad himself, once covered with this huge blanket, became a Player surrounded on all sides by indestructible ‘landscape’, making him an object that is impossible to path by the Mobs. He is, to all sorts and sundries, effectively invisible to the mobs.

Which is why the mobs, upon encountering Sad, would instantly stop, switch to their idle animation, like standing in place and roaring furiously, while their artificial intelligence futilely tried to build a path to Sad. After all, the mob could clearly ‘see’ the Player in front of it, was aware of their presence, but they couldn't find a way to approach them without violating previously received instructions.

After a couple of failed attempts, my fail-safe to prevent the AI from blue-screening and taking up precious processing capability would take full effect. The mob, giving up under the pressure of an impossible task, would walk away, enabling a ten-second pause in its search pattern. Sad, being no fool, took great advantage of this quirk in programming, and would instantly jump up and attack the departing Mob from behind. A Mob with an active ten-second timer of ignoring the Player next to it.

Naturally, this almost always meant that the mob dutifully ignored the attacks directed against it, and ten seconds was a whole wealth of time for Sad, killing any demon in his path. He would get his deserved experience points, and move forward, after which he would set up the strangest ambush in the world on the path of the next mob.

In a way, the current situation was even amusing. What wasn't amusing were its potential consequences.

Human history has repeatedly proven that inventions tend to occur to several people simultaneously, so even though Sad hadn't revealed his tactics to anyone, it only bought me a little time before the method would spread.

In some sense, I wasn't against letting Sad have his small victory – let him have a special ability obtained by chance, a reward for bringing such an issue to my attention. The important thing was to address the loophole before my whole game breaks; what if all Players started using similar tactics and all my mobs went from being actual challenges to just mindless walking XP bags?

No, I couldn't allow that.

The thought of tying this feature to some Stealth skill immediately evaporated, Sad had certainly leveled up nicely using this tactic, but neither his level nor his Stealth skill the highest among the Players. It would be weird if Sad could do it, but others higher-levelled or more Stealth focused Players couldn’t.

Should I code that this was a property of the Demon’s skin Sad was wearing? A quick review of the logs informed me that retrospectively turning the Demon into a special creature would be difficult; it was just a regular [Lesser Demon Minion]. A mob that the Players had encountered many times before without it demonstrating any tactical wonders or special abilities.

Of course, I understood that I needed to rewrite the basic pathfinding settings for the mobs, a serious and tiring endeavor for sure, but one that I must do. But, still, simply rolling out a patch which is basically saying ‘your exploit no longer works, Sad’? I had never done that before, and the big bosses upstairs really liked my ‘zero-patch’ work, at least in the eyes of third-party users.

It played well into the idea that this game had been developed over years, and it didn't give Players extra incentive to look for other exploits. What's the point if they were certainly already discovered, fixed, and accounted for, after all?

So I couldn't take away Sad's ability – but I also couldn't allow the other Players the chance to earn such a broken ability.

Ideas swarmed in my head, gradually being eliminated one after another. Create new mob features? Coding new facts about equipment crafted from them, even introducing a new System focused on stealth. An idea I had to abandon because I couldn't come up with sufficient development for it or reasons to give it only to Sad and not to everyone else who tried to move quietly around mobs.

Before realizing that, I was forced to use a second, less elegant solution to resolve the problem at hand.

Therefore, a moment later, Sad stopped, looking at the system notification that popped up in front of him, invisible to all players around, but more than visible to me.

"Secret quest [Hunter of Hunters] completed!"

[As the first and only one who managed to find the hidden weakness of demonic minds infesting the [Celestial Gardens], you have now been marked by the favor of One of the Eight Holy Names. May your step be silent and your hunt bountiful, for the ruined cities and lost angels demand vengeance upon the demonic hordes.]

[Reward: Special Ability [Here and Nowhere Else] obtained!]

A moment later, Sad closed the notification screen, and I clapped my hands. Now let no one question why this worked for Sad but not for the others; because it's a Secret Quest, understand? So no more questions.

Truthfully, using two such inelegant problem-solving methods back-to-back somewhat irked me, but what could I do when necessity trumped my preferences?

So, turning my attention away from Sad, I teleported back up, delighted by the news that Signia had completely ‘accidentally’ dropped Sturm and Double right onto the third key-seal, causing the barrier to tremble under strain. Now, it would only take a single tap for the barrier to break.

Jabberwocky, of course, had already received updates about what was happening to the barrier, but hadn't yet managed to send back instructions. During this brief hesitation, one of my AI Players, following his given orders, pulled out his sword from his tattered clothes as Players hadn't started crafting scabbards yet, and ‘experimentally’ swung it, ‘accidentally’ making contact with the barrier.

Like a piece of glass, the barrier responded with sharp, rapid vibrations accompanied by the sound of countless small bells merging into a single cacophonous crack, before becoming covered in fractures. Jabberwocky, who had just arrived at the location, witnessed with horror as the barrier became covered with a network of cracks.

Before, with a moment that seemed to last forever, but was actually barely a blink of the eye, the barrier exploded into bits with the loud sound of a striking bell.

And I, in turn, clapped my hands and looked upon this scene with a joyful smile.

Good luck to you, my dear Players. You'll definitely need it!