The Gears of Realization

Given the racial advantages present in the game, it was inevitable that corresponding weaknesses existed. Demonoids, for instance, were vulnerable to light magic—a fact Akio was well aware of, having considered them as his second option when selecting his race. With a swift motion, a brilliant beam of light emanated from his palm. Given that light is the swiftest element in the universe, it struck the demonoid's shoulder instantly. While dodging was theoretically possible, the demonoid player reacted too slowly, resulting in a slow trickle of blood from his wounded shoulder. Pain, though present in Three Realms, was somewhat dulled, yet the discomfort experienced by the demonoid player felt akin to a sharp stubbed toe.

"Ha! How was that?" Akio muttered triumphantly.

"Ow ow ow! That hurts like hell!" exclaimed the demonoid player, clutching his injured shoulder.

Attempting to regain composure, the demonoid raised his sword with his right arm, but his efforts were abruptly halted when Akio noticed a blade protruding from his stomach.

"Ahh!" The player cried out in agony before slowly disintegrating.

Standing behind him was Karina, exuding an aura of undeniable bad ass, much to Akio's awe.

"What the hell! What about the other players?" Akio turned, only to find no other players remaining, just blood staining the ground.

"Let's go, Akio. I've had enough," Karina stated emotionlessly.

As they rode in silence for several minutes, Akio couldn't decide whether to feel frightened or safe.

"Note to self: don't mess with this chick," he nervously thought, stealing glances at Karina's stern expression.

"So...are you going to tell me how you became so skilled with the sword?" Akio finally mustered the courage to ask.

"No," came Karina's blunt reply.

"You know, with your skills, you could easily make a profession out of hunting down those Twisted Rabid Bunny Ears. I was surprised you seemed surprised when I walked in with so many," remarked Akio.

"I don't hunt. I help my father sell goods," Karina replied curtly, avoiding further discussion on the matter.

"She doesn't seem happy to dive into the topic," Akio thought.

Thump.

A sudden thump reverberated within Akio's chest. "Fear, perhaps?" he pondered.

"It's not that I don't want to tell you, but I'm tired of people suggesting what I should do. Every week, like clockwork, my father reminds me that I'm destined for more than just assisting him in the shop, that I have a future. I'm utterly exhausted by it! Why can't he accept that I prefer helping him in the shop rather than pursuing some silly goal? You understand, right?" Karina vented her frustrations.

"Yeah," Akio nodded in understanding.

"Waking up every morning to open the shop and ensure it's stocked is something I'm happy with! I don't see why I should pursue anything else. Even you're suggesting I should do something different. Are you kidding me?! What right do..."

Thump thump.

"There it is again," Akio noted the sensation in his chest.

"...Don't you ever wish you could just snap your fingers and have something? I do. I wish I could have my family back! None of this would be an issue if they were still with me!" Karina continued her tirade without pause.

"...Are you even listening?...Hey, back there! I'm talking to you!" Karina's voice broke through Akio's trance-like state as she halted the horses.

Akio remained motionless, caught in a sort of trance. He slowly shrugged and clutched his chest, his sweating intensifying, and dizziness setting in.

"Are you okay?!" Karina exclaimed, rushing towards the back of the carriage. "Hey, are you listening to me? Did you get poisoned? Don't tell me you're going to die; I'll be alone on this trip!" she panicked, slapping his cheeks gently.

Struggling to make sense of the blurry world around him, Akio felt fear creeping in as he realized he couldn't move his arms.

—

Miyuki sighed, glancing over her menu as she checked the time. "He isn't here yet," she murmured, her disappointment evident. "An hour and a half late... I really thought he'd show. What could have kept him?" She sat alone on a bench in the garden where she and Akio had agreed to meet.

He never arrived.

—

The Legion Knights, as they called themselves, were a group of players who congregated in the outskirts of Gundal City. While none of them had yet reached level 2, their leader was already on the cusp of advancing to the third level.

"Alright, listen up," their leader addressed the group. "Today, I've gathered you all because I have a proposal. From now on, we won't allow any non-humanoid races to join us. Let's stir up some tension. After all, we all know that elves, humans, and the like are superior to the rest. Why should we let any undead or demonoids join?"

Nods of agreement rippled through the group. Allowing undead, demonoids, or any other non-humanoid beings to join was viewed as unnecessary baggage that would only hinder the Legion Knights' progress.

The Legion Knights comprised mainly humans and elves, all deeply committed to the knightly code. Many players had even switched classes to align with this noble pursuit, striving to establish themselves as the first-ever clan in the vast world of Three Realms. Despite the game being released just three days prior, these players were already planning for the future. With their growing numbers, they envisioned raiding dungeons and aiding their comrades in leveling up.

Amidst fervent battle cries, the players gathered in the Legion Knights' assembly agreed wholeheartedly with each other's ideologies.

"Alright, settle down, boys," their leader called out, commanding attention. "Today, I've convened this meeting to address another matter of utmost urgency. Following the ambush Skulior and I faced yesterday, we stumbled upon a revelation that might astonish you all. In our victorious battle, we observed that PvP encounters yield significantly more XP than hunting monsters. Now, I'm not suggesting we morph into an assassin's guild; we are knights, after all, sworn to protect. Moreover, as many of you have noticed, the NPCs are far more alive than we had expected. Therefore, I propose that we evolve into a genuine knights' clan, dedicated to safeguarding the NPCs from other players!"

Perched atop a rock, their leader's proclamation echoed across the assembly. Each player present wasn't merely a casual gamer but a member of a cult devoted to role-playing as knights. Much like children immersed in make-believe, they reveled in the title and responsibility it bestowed upon them. For the NPCs, this marked a positive development, as it meant they now had a new clan committed to their protection—a dream fulfilled for those who had longed to embody the noble ideals of knighthood.

With resounding bashes of swords against shields and mighty battle cries, each of the fifty players expressed their fervent approval.

—

"How much for this chunk of bread, sir?" a player inquired as he stopped at one of the local establishments along the bustling streets of Byron City.

"Huh? A hero? We don't serve your kind here, scram!" the elderly man behind the bakery counter retorted sharply.

"Whoa, listen, I'm not here to cause any trouble. I just have a genuine passion for baking bread," the player insisted earnestly.

"Your passion? I've never heard of a hero being into baking. Is this some kind of joke?" the old man scoffed incredulously.

"I mean, I am a professional baker in real life," the player thought to himself, hoping to bridge the gap between their worlds.

"I had no idea you guys had baked goods in this world!" the player continued, attempting to appeal to the old man's sense of curiosity.

"Of course we do! I've been at this for 56 years, boy! My father's father built this damn place with his bare hands!" the old man declared proudly, his gruff demeanor softening slightly.

"Oh, I didn't mean any disrespect! Look, I'll show you a few tricks if I can try a piece of your bread!" the player proposed eagerly, hoping to win the old man over with his baking skills.

"Nonsense! You show me? Impossible," the old man scoffed, but the player persisted.

"Come on, you won't regret it," the player urged, sensing an opportunity to prove himself.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Get your ass back here and show me what you've got before I change my mind!" the old man relented gruffly, giving the player a chance to impress him.

Excitedly, the player rushed to the back of the shop and inspected the old man's equipment. Although it was nothing like the modern technology he was accustomed to, he remained undeterred. Determined to rise to the challenge, he stoked the flames of the old-fashioned oven with wood and set to work.

"And... ready! How's this?" the player presented his creation to the old man with a hopeful grin.

"Boy, what the devil did you just put in front of my face?" the old man exclaimed in disbelief, his expression darkening.

Confused and crestfallen, the player couldn't comprehend the old man's reaction. He had poured his heart into crafting the bread, yet it seemed to fall short of expectations.

"My granddaughter could bake something better than this, and she's 8 years old, blind, and with one arm!" the old man thundered, his disappointment palpable.

Feeling utterly dejected, the player realized he had failed to meet the old man's standards. With a heavy heart, he left the bakery, after receiving the old man's chunk of bread.

As he nibbled on the bread, his taste buds were tantalized by an explosion of flavor. Despite the old man's harsh criticism, there was no denying the sheer deliciousness of the bread.

"I need to go back..." the player's thoughts trailed off as he made a decision, his determination reignited.

With newfound resolve, he raced back to the bakery, bursting through the door with a fervent plea.

"Teach me!" the player implored, his eagerness evident in his voice.

The old man stood behind the counter, a wry smile playing on his lips as he surveyed the player's determination.

"I thought you wouldn't come back," he muttered, his tone softened slightly.

"Please," the player pleaded earnestly, his eyes shining with determination.

"Well, get your ass inside before I change my mind! And put on that apron—I won't have you dirtying the one my wife knit for me!" the old man relented, a hint of grudging admiration in his voice.

—

"What? They have a library in this city?" exclaimed a player as he walked by the imposing structure within the city of Folkrath. The building resembled a massive church, complete with a towering clock. Unlike in real life, where he typically avoided walking, exploring in-game held a different allure for him. Taking the opportunity to delve into every nook and cranny of the city, he stumbled upon the library.

'Welcome to The Library of Owen Gol,' a prompt appeared before the player, inviting him to explore its depths.

As he perused the vast collections of books, he couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right. "These are all books from our world! But how? Shouldn't this be illegal or something?" he mused aloud as he plucked a book from the shelf.

"Do you have a specific genre you are looking for?" a voice murmured behind him, causing him to startle.

The parlayed turned to find a massive owl standing before him. He screamed at the sight of him.

"Silence! Don't make me kick you out. This is a library, after all," the owl continued, calm and quiet.

"What... why are there books from our world here?" the player questioned.

"First, let me congratulate you on being the first hero to walk into my library, or would you prefer to be referred to as a player?" the owl addressed him.

"The... the first?"

"Yes, out of the millions and millions of players who have logged in, you are my first. Now, if you would like to know why we have these books, it's a simple response. They are intended for your education. Although unavailable to NPCs, everything within this library is yours to absorb. Feel free to ask me any questions you have about an author, a book, math, or any subject, for I have read every single book within this library," the owl explained, its blue eyes gleaming. Above its head, a silver nameplate read Owen Gol.

"Well, I'm a physics professor at a university. Do you mind if I test out your knowledge?" the player challenged.

"Ah, a professor! We share professions, as a matter of fact. I was created with the sole intent of teaching," the owl replied, gracefully guiding the player to an open area equipped with bean bag chairs, tables, and desks. "You have a whiteboard in here? With markers!" the player exclaimed in surprise.

"Yes, since this is an area of learning, everything here has a purpose," Owen explained.

"Okay, Owen... let's see if you know what happens when I drop a ball from 2 meters above the ground... How long will it take to hit the floor?" the player posed the question after writing it out on the board.

"Are we assuming the gravitational constant for Earth, 9.8 meters per second squared?" Owen inquired.

"Y—yeah," the player confirmed.

"Then, 0.638877 seconds," Owen responded promptly.

"What, so quick!" the player exclaimed in astonishment.

"Indeed, no calculator or writing needed, although we do have the latest and finest calculators here," Owen explained. "Better than any AI-generated response, for I have a personality and won't get a question wrong."

The player's eyes widened with excitement, feeling like a child receiving a new toy. "How about we do some more?" he suggested eagerly.

"I'd love to," Owen replied softly.

Across Three Realms, players began to realize that the game offered far more than just leveling up and battling monsters. The gears of realization were slowly turning, unveiling the depth and richness of the virtual world before them.