—
[Scan in progress. Please select your weapon.]
—
The words flashed in front of Grey again as though refusing to be forgotten. A young man standing in a daze probably wasn’t good television.
Grey ran a hand through his hair, his palm coming back with thick beads of gel and a smell that he thought was good, but was a bit overwhelming. It was as close to an alien perfume as one could get, carrying a metallic edge to it that almost reminded him of blades and alcohol, with undertones of exotic fruit.
’Fuck me.’ Grey looked for a place to wipe his palm but could only settle on this damned floral suit. ’What do I do? What do I do?’
The room he was in was just a circular wall of white and silver, so narrow that if he stretched his arms out and tilted a bit, he could just barely touch the walls with the tips of his fingers.
As for the weapons themselves, they were visible, but they weren’t tangible. Instead of summoning every weapon—probably as some sort of cost-cutting measure—the sponsors, or the Monelay as that floating dick referred to them as, formed projections of the available weapons instead.
The longer he took, the more of them vanished.
—
[Weapon not selected. Please select your weapon.]
—
Grey cursed again, his hand phasing through the spear he tried to take. It was also the weapon he had first chosen before, too. He figured that since he only had experience shooting guns and not the bows and arrows in stock here, his best bet for keeping distance and protecting himself was a polearm weapon.
But in about three or so hours from now, he’d find out that because he was still wearing this damned floral suit—well, at least the upper half of it—he didn’t have the electronic nodes attached to his body that he needed to interact with the holographic weapons floating around him.
Everyone was supposed to be given one of those sci-fi-looking, skin-tight black suits with electrical circuits running through the fabric. Those circuits formed a connection with their nervous system, allowing their touch to transfer into the interface of the virtual world projected here.
But because Grey’s mechanical arms had malfunctioned and failed to disrobe and clothe him properly, he was completely out of luck. Without that suit, Grey was like a poor bastard trying to wake up his phone screen with thick gloves on.
Nothing here could register his touch at all.
And worst yet, in the outside world, it was the same.
He hadn’t been able to accept loot boxes, interact with those floating information booths, or even enter the safe rooms. He couldn’t even register himself at checkpoints.
That only changed after he ran across a dead body, but that young girl’s suit didn’t fit more than a bit of his arm. And, because he had been forced to strip her just so he could finally give himself a small chance to live...
Grey’s fist clenched, his confused and dazed state becoming rage.
’Those bastards...’
He had always known that reality TV producers bent the truth, using editing and special effects to sway the audience toward tales that were probably more stirring and aggravating than what actually happened. But what they did to him...
They painted him out as some sort of sick monster. Then the audience began to interact and vote, sending him into more and more dangerous situations until...
’A knife in the gut.’
Grey pressed a palm to his stomach, his jaw clenching so hard veins popped along it.
—
[Weapon not selected. Please select your weapon.]
[Countdown Starting]
[Time Remaining: 00:00:00:29]
—
Grey just stood there, not frantically swiping at weapons, not yelling to try and get those soulless producers to help him... just standing there.
He had already tried all of that. They wouldn’t listen to him. It was useless.
All he could feel was fury. But it was so all-consuming and flagrant that he couldn’t even seem to think straight.
—
[Time is up. You have not chosen a weapon.]
—
[Achievement Unlocked: The Idiot Weaponless Madman]
[Description: You’ve taken an unconventional, albeit foolish route. Not selecting a weapon is truly a feat of stupidity. Though, maybe you were just in a daze. Oh well. Here’s your reward.]
[+1 Strength]
—
[Error—]
—
The system tried to interface with Grey’s body and failed.
The world warped around him and Grey stumbled forward, catching himself before he collapsed. A new world appeared around him, one that buried him in some sort of underground cave with jagged grey walls and low ceilings.
A cool humidity hung in the air, the mustiness overlaid by the stink of sweat. The sound of chattering teeth and an odd rubbing followed it.
Grey forced himself to snap back to reality.
’Move.’
**
"Gard! We have a problem."
In a control room of floating screens, creatures of all shapes and sizes zipped around, trying to manage thousands of contestants at once. And this was just a single control room of tens of thousands more.
An octopus creature with dozens of tentacles tapping at just as many screens at once was the one who roared out, one of its tentacles zooming in on a screen that reflected a young man in nothing but his boxers and a half-torn floral suit.
Up above the control room, a man with deathly gray skin sat on what looked to be the true command center. He looked very human even with how sickly his skin was and the apparent baldness... except for the band cut out around his forehead, all the way to the back of his skull.
This band of flesh revealed his brain beneath, making the top of his skull look like an afterthought he had capped on.
His brain juices flowed without dripping, veins of silvery gray pulsing to the naked eye.
If the Great Udon had been there to commentate, he would have certainly used this opportunity to warmly introduce this Associate Producer not just for his rank and importance, but also the fact he was of the sponsor’s lineage.
Associate Producer Gard was of the Monelay. As were every single ranked Producer overseeing the 3021st season.
"I’ve already noticed. The cost to fix it wouldn’t be worth it, just let him die naturally."
"Gotcha."
The octopus’ tentacle pressed on Grey’s screen and minimized it to the size of the others, a violet and green fluorescent light pulsing beneath its slippery skin.
The whole matter was little more than an afterthought to them.