Chapter 1: Envision dwelling a single day within an ancient cavern, and lo! The cosmos twirls through a century. Contemplate then, the bold intrigue of living upon the red dust of Mars. (2)

This email was circulated prior to the executive committee's virtual session.

The agenda had been sufficiently covered when the corpulent president announced, "Sagittarius is back."

Seeking confirmation, another committee queried, "The individuals commuting to work on Mars, then leveraging half-century-old interfaces to govern the city—are we speaking of the same person?"

Corpulent president affirmed.

Another committee, tinged with envy, heaved a hefty sigh. "Countless players have invested both funds and time into urban development, met only with abject failure. Yet, he manages it with finesse. Before one can even flick a switch to remotely actuate machinery, he can mobilize an offensive front. Nevertheless, we've triumphed in erecting a city of metropolitan scale."

Corpulent president weighed in: "Over the previous couple of years, we've noted that players wielding real-world influence—e-sports combatants—whether banding together in guilds, forming clubs, or operating solo, can't hold a candle to these city sovereigns. The global systems we, alongside other nations, have installed accord them significant sway. Thus, with the return of the metropolis lord, our nonchalance is no longer an option."

The CEO leaned forward, reassuringly stating, "This situation isn't cause for concern. Reports indicate that Sagittarius relies on AI assistants for a range of tasks, from purchasing a new capsule machine to acquiring a home and a vehicle. The email we received was also AI-generated, which was quite the revelation when we initially learned that he would ordinarily engage in the game. Our public relations team is already on standby to devise a strategy for Sagittarius' introduction."

"In the expansive realm of the server, across Asia-Oceania, merely one of the distinguished city lords has been seen or had their image circulate on social media," the CEO continued thoughtfully. "Moreover, we ought to streamline Sagittarius' transition into the game with the updated configurations, especially considering it's been a full five years since he last connected to a standard server via capsule. The technical crew has overhauled the software multiple times; consequently, his former character model is defunct. He'll need to embark in the novice's chamber to craft a fresh avatar."

The tale begins in the first player's chamber, sculpting their virtual visage—a ritualistic enterprise practice. For the erstwhile absentees now returned, this marks their re-entry. Yet a different issue causes the corpulent president to bristle, chiding the CEO, "Your efforts for the company are known. But to discern the motive behind Sagittarius's email goes beyond mere curiosity. What action should we take?" Meanwhile, the Online Games Control Board, under the aegis of the World Bank and the UN, champions player rights, perusing in-game transaction logs sans a judicial warrant, or nationality-based investigative mandate remains off-limits. Similarly, AI, our brainchild, when bestowed upon a player, acts at their behest. Whether acquiring a Brainwave Player Capsule or dispatching emails, these are enshrined as the gamer's sovereign prerogatives, rendering the data impotent to the company.

Post a rigorous half-day drill into user privacy tenets, corpulent president declares, "If the email is but a straightforward cancellation request, free of covert aims and with the VR portal lying dormant, I call upon the comittee to formally disconnect this interface from our servers."

The CEO remains unflappable. Today is not like Phakin known. MGC Online now casts a wider net, holding the power to concoct a plethora of live events for an international audience. With reach so extensive, skepticism becomes not trust. Thus, it appears crucial to have UN and World Bank monitoring — ostensibly for scrutiny, though their actual impact may be small. Still, their clout is palpable, sometimes encroaching upon personal freedoms. In essence, they hold enough sway to ignore the occasional oversight.

This is the essence of capitalism — a firm can rise to continental prominence without succumbing to military imposition.

The President claims our business is flawless, but that's merely a veneer of protection. Yet they persevere, probing our past activities. A repeat incident would trigger corrective training. This portrays the President as a firm proponent of legality.

He readily took on the job, eager to shine in his role, like an actor in a movie set before a roaring fire. His task that day was to assure shareholders, demonstrate that even the most influential metropolis lord wouldn't find fault with the company under his watch. His role, it seemed, was designed to be unpopular.

The president had a singular aim—a businessman through and through, seeking to trim a system here to save the company money there.

Upon making the call to cut costs, Corpulent president face lit up with glee, anticipating the plumper dividends soon to boost his account by a few more dollars.

The email in question bore numerous symbols, not due to any blacklisting of the player in question, but because of two specific issues. Firstly, this lone player still wandering the realms of VR was monopolizing valuable server space. And the second reason...

Elation spread across the boardroom as the comittee contemplated their increased dividends. With enthusiasm, the CEO ushered in a new item on the agenda, projecting 3D slides onto the screen for all to see. "You all are well aware that our server for Asia-Oceania houses over half our gaming population. During peak times, we've seen the staggering figure of three billion users logged in simultaneously."

The committee conveyed their agreement with affirmative gestures. The CEO shared, "By channeling a more substantial budget into our events than other servers, we have over time established the MGC championship, segmented into leagues. It's where the finest game parties battle it out. This led to the emergence of numerous guilds and clubs, propelling us to the pinnacle of the e-sports industry. Now, with every metropolis lord in the game, everyone's engagement is at its peak. That's why I'm here before the committee, to propose we revisit the world invasion project."

Satisfaction was apparent as dividends were distributed until it met his expectations. Initially, Corpulent president would clandestinely doze off, sneaking away from meetings. However, mention of the world invasion project saw his eyes sparkling with interest.

That very report had been a fixture on his desk for a year. It was only after the Australian, the fifth lord of the metropolis, came into the picture that the strategy department's game planning division brought this project to the fore.

Initially, Corpulent president remained indifferent, but once the CEO hinted at the universal appeal of the venture and the potential to secure sponsors, enthusiasm soared. The project turned out to be a roaring success, reaping substantial profits, and that's not even counting the revenue from entry fees at pivotal moments of the narrative.

Money, money, money, money, money, money, money, money!

Despite the excitement, the project is on hold. The company's executive committee reasoned that with Sagittarius engaged on Mars, it couldn't fully dive into this grand affair. Sagittarius's character design, too, leans towards the arcade aesthetic, presenting a disjointed tale that stands out awkwardly at an otherwise grand event. Ultimately, the experience loses its zest for everyone, be they an observer or a participant.

Sagittarius has made its comeback.

Corpulent president quickly uttered, "The current landscape has shifted since the report last year. Hasten the strategy team to refine our project to align with the evolving game dynamics, including the development of various themes for this occasion. Ensure the public relations team is present at the event, too. They should orchestrate the advertising and PR efforts in advance, then return to present a comprehensive plan to us."

The committee have committed the project title to memory. Currently, five city lord stand ready. Players should prepare for the impending "invasion."

Meanwhile, a man who's single-handedly managed the firm's finances for a trio of years via solo VR usage finds himself cozied up in an interstellar shuttle, clutching a petit bag.

Adjacent sits a middle-aged Indian gent, a bearded figure who sparks a sense of solitude. A whiff of alcohol emanates off him, prompting an inquiry into possible heartache. "Heartbroken, are you?" the question floats.

My inaugural utterance, a topic I yearn to close the book on. Yet, the nonchalant facade speaks volumes of Heartbroken.

Phakin, hangover, mutters in shaky English, "If only the return to Earth could delay a day. I would've deferred it."

"Indeed, Mars does have its charms," the Indian muses, missing the mark. He presumes an unwillingness to depart.

But this ticket bears no cost. It's a parting gift from the United Nations post-contract—non-negotiable, as the journey's fixed for the day succeeding capital settlement completion.

By this stage, nearly all of his personal effects were neatly squared away in his room.

He traveled light, clutching just a single bag. Enclosed within, a token of his privileged citizenship; paperwork to cease fund transactions, a smartphone, notebooks, and—just underwear. He hastily stuffed these items into his bag and made a beeline for the shuttle.

His selection was of only the essentials. A shower had yet to grace his skin, not to mention a soothing beard trim. His attire was still the grease-stained garb of a mechanic, an attire he had yet to swap out. It was unsightly and awkward. Yet, fortune smiled on him, as his adjacent passenger hailed from India—a land where even centuries ago, mustaches were well in fashion. He blended somewhat into the same category.

Perhaps it was this resemblance that sparked the conversation.

However, the conversation was short-lived. The United Nations had simply provided for the shuttle fare back to Earth, and a connecting flight to Thailand. Upon landing, the responsibility of his upkeep fell squarely on his shoulders. Phakin intended to hunker down in a hotel for a few days. Then he'd meander through Bangkok, scouting for the perfect condo rental. For now, he was in relaxation mode. Taking a respite from work for about six months was his aim before searching for new employment and a place to call home. Thus, the quest would be thorough, a visual feast, chosen with the utmost personal care.

Phakin flipped through his worn notebook to check current noodle prices (in Thailand could use price a bowl of noodle to compare inflation) at popular curbside eateries. Were they affected by inflation? Discovering they had dipped to 300 baht (Thai currency) a bowl reassured him. After toiling for five years straight, accruing bonuses and allowances, his savings neared 300 million baht. The cost of a single noodle bowl meant that he wouldn't need to work for a decade.

"Once we land in Bangkok, we'll scout for a central hotel," he announced, scanning a map for the heart of the city. The priority was a reasonably priced place close to shopping—remember, their luggage had only undergarments. Shopping was a must.

However, visiting a hotel's website near the bustling Siam shopping area brought up an unusual sight that halted his booking mid-click.

A gentleman from India, noticing Phakin's hesitation over the English-language options, chimed in, "These days, many hotels offer game capsules. It's common in India, too."

"Game capsules in a hotel? But aren't hotels meant for resting? If gaming is on the agenda, wouldn't an arcade be better?" Phakin responded, bewildered.

Phakin grappled with his bewilderment over the other's ignorance until the revelation struck - his five-year Martian sojourn had left him out of sync with Earth's current affairs. His words grew heavy with sorrow as he envisioned his old schoolmates assuming his exile, his only lifelines being sporadic, token greetings akin to those afforded to an inmate. What more could be expected?

After all, Phakin was merely a gaming enthusiast, not one to foster a multitude of deep bonds.

Confronted with this narrative, the Indian man's reaction was sheer astonishment. In an earnest gesture of respect, he extended his hand, apologizing and expressing his admiration for the pioneers who nurtured an entire continent's environment. Himself, an attendant of a silica melting facility, proudly shared that this venture was a testament to government collaboration and industrial excellence - a beacon of the new age in computer chip board production.

The constant stream of Asian business leaders to the colony was a testament to an initiative far greater than Phakin - to transplant nature-depleting industries to other worlds. The Indian man, likely seeking a fresh production haven amid this exodus, was one such visitor. Phakin mustered a smile, remarking, "I'm present to utilize the funds. Express gratitude towards those who are open to journeying instead, if thanks are in order."

So, I really appreciate it. Thankfully, my factory isn't impacted by UN regulations as it's purely an assembly operation—no emissions or pollutants to speak of. However, it does hinge on components who's manufacturing inevitably involves emissions and waste. Had you not established the colony, my enterprise would lack components and face certain insolvency.

Then he let Phakin's hand go and took the time to thoroughly brief Phakin on the current state of home world.

"Living on Mars for five years has probably become mundane to you, especially since the United Nations heralded the shift of production bases there, marking a significant transformation for our planet. Policies across nations now echo a singular vision: the preservation of Earth for future generations. This has led to an uptick in environmental protection laws and a collective commitment to safeguard nature whenever we step outside. Virtually every nation is now advocating for work within the virtual realm."

Phakin, reflecting on a decade past, nodded to the seamless integration of virtual transactions, from banking to securing virtual spaces. This harmony between system support and the global desire for Earth's recovery makes lesser environmental impact and reduced outdoor presence understandable. Hence, the ubiquity of brainwave capsule machines in hotels for virtual world access seems par for the course. "No wonder MGC Online has such a vast player base," he observed, musing on the Land lord's challenge in tracking the comings and goings of the millions populating his city's virtual boundaries.

Upon hearing this, the Indian nodded, recounting a story from five years past. "Owing to a variety of national policies, and notably, international ones, there was a push for citizens to immerse themselves in the virtual realm. At that juncture, brainwave capsule devices were scarce global commodities and came with a hefty price tag. MGC Online pioneered the integration of VR technology into their games some fifty years earlier, scaling their servers to accommodate one and all. A city infrastructure within the game underpinned virtual world transactions, drawing throngs to the game. It wasn't uncommon for companies to establish their presence inside the game; my own company opened a branch there. Sounds peculiar, doesn't it? But launching a business on this gaming platform was feasible and entirely legal, thanks to its robust system. Post-work, many would stay logged into their adventures rather than exit, contributing to the billions player base that evolved into a massive societal construct. Mastery in gaming could catapult one to renown, much like football or tennis would in the athletic world."

The return of the VR system paralleled my Mars expedition, as the planet had just been graced with the internet. However, brainwave capsules were inapplicable. At the same time, over half the global populace lacked access to these capsules for entering the virtual space. Merging this with the city system—players' secondary vocation—created cities replete with tax collection, security, space rentals, and more, mirroring real-world urban dynamics. MGC Online was equipped with a system to underpin this, whether by foresight or fortune, which effectively magnetized a vast customer base.

Absolutely, it's clear as day. The circumstances were prime. When Phakin moved from earth, the company already boasted millions of devotees. It swiftly transformed into a global colossus.

Phakin, too, has dabbled in this game and has some inside knowledge of game status. Yet, what truly boggles the mind is how earth outsiders perceive this game. The gentleman from India mentioned that e-sports—be it solo or team-based competitions—are dominated by this very this game globally.

Upon launching the game's site, you're greeted with the staggering statistic of over five billion user IDs, a testament to the game's massive popularity. "It's definitely worthwhile to have kept tabs on this over the last five years," he thought, reflecting on his unawareness before that had left Phakin utterly astounded.

Nevertheless, it's all good. He steps into the role of a Land lord. Ensconced at level 50 just as always with mage as his main vocation, without venturing into fame nor possessing any elusive items that could sway the common folk. To re-immerse and engage, he can serenely navigate the game's world.

But is that the reality?..