This Is Real?

Because of the rapid pace of events, Ethan did not bother to inspect the contents of his vomit or feel any need to do so. It was just vomit, after all. Why bother?

However, what Ethan failed to notice, even from the act of vomiting, was that it should not be possible, theoretically and logically, for such realistic vomiting to occur in a game, no matter how advanced its realism.

His failure to notice this was due to the fact that, while his brain kept telling him he was in a game, his body had already begun reacting to the environment as if it were real.

Had Ethan taken the time to examine the contents of his vomit, he would have been shocked to see that it consisted of the breakfast he had consumed a few hours prior to the game's launch. Another occurrence that was not supposed to happen in a 'game.'

At the moment, Ethan's attention was fixed on the dishevelled body of the woman in front of him. She was barely intact, with her entrails exposed and a portion of her neck bitten off. Blood flowed from her wounds, and she was losing a critical amount of blood.

Amidst this grim situation, there was a glimmer of hope—the woman's chest continued to rise and fall, indicating that she was still alive. However, the extent to which she could survive in her current state remained uncertain.

Ethan's mind raced with a multitude of thoughts as his hands hung in the air, unsure of what actions to take in this dire circumstance. Stopping the blood loss was paramount, but unless he possessed divine powers, it seemed impossible to achieve through ordinary means.

While Ethan continued to contemplate his course of action, a sudden cough broke the silence. The dying woman, aside from Ethan and the lifeless wolf nearby, was the only one capable of producing such a sound. Despite her struggle, she managed to utter fragmented words through the blood flowing from her mouth like an endless stream.

"I... I don't want to... die," she weakly articulated.

This heart-wrenching plea only intensified the gravity of the situation, causing Ethan's mind to go blank, overwhelmed by the weight of the moment.

"What should I do? What should I do?!" Ethan's mind once again raced with thoughts of possible actions in this dire situation.

It was clear that stopping the woman's blood loss was of utmost importance, but accomplishing such a task proved to be easier said than done. Her exposed and partially bitten-off entrails presented a gruesome sight. Remarkably, despite being confronted with such a sight for the first time in his life, Ethan managed to suppress the urge to vomit again.

Amidst his uncertainty, Ethan allowed his instincts to guide him. Operating on autopilot, his mind and body acted in unison, and the first instinctive action he attempted was to use his hands to staunch the gushing blood from the woman's neck, where a part was missing.

Ethan reached out and pressed his trembling hands against the woman's wounded neck. He applied as much pressure as he could muster, hoping to slow down the relentless flow of blood. His heart pounded in his chest as he prayed for some semblance of success.

However, the reality of the situation quickly set in. Ethan's efforts, while well-intentioned, proved futile against the severity of the woman's injuries. Her life force continued to drain away, and the crimson pool beneath her grew larger with each passing moment. Ethan's initial sense of hope was swiftly overshadowed by a deepening sense of helplessness.

At that moment, Ethan remained oblivious to the fact that he was fully immersed in treating the situation as if it were real. Just as he was on the verge of giving up on the woman, her faint muttering caught his attention.

"I-i-inventory o-o-pen," she struggled to say. However, it wasn't her words that seized Ethan's focus. A few seconds after she spoke, a red object materialised in her hands. Weakened by her condition, she lacked the strength to hold onto it, and the potion-like bottle slipped from her grasp.

The sight surprised Ethan, jolting him back into the realisation that this should be a game. But why did everything feel so authentic? And do non-player characters even possess inventories nowadays? These thoughts and suspicions swirled in Ethan's mind, but he knew it was not the time for contemplation.

Reacting swiftly, Ethan removed one of his hands from the woman's neck and reached out with his bloodied fingers to catch the rolling potion bottle before it could roll any further. As he examined the bottle, a sense of familiarity washed over him. It appeared to be a typical health potion.

With only one hand available, Ethan attempted to use his thumb to open the tightly sealed cap of the potion bottle. He persisted in his efforts, all the while keeping his other hand in place, futilely attempting to stem the flow of blood from the woman's neck.

Another cough from the woman jolted Ethan into a sense of urgency. Without hesitation, he brought the head of the potion bottle to his mouth and used his teeth to grasp it, then twisted his head to break off the cap.

"Shit!" Ethan exclaimed, his mouth tinged with blood as his actions to break the glass bottle inadvertently caused him a minor injury.

Gritting his teeth slightly as he ignored the pain, Ethan brought the potion to the woman's mouth. With her remaining strength, she opened her mouth wide enough for Ethan to pour the potion's contents into it.

Ethan carefully tilted the potion bottle, allowing its contents to flow into the woman's open mouth. She mustered her remaining strength and swallowed the potion.

Time seemed to slow down as Ethan watched, his heart pounding with anticipation. Would the potion be enough to save her? Would it heal her wounds and restore her to life?

For a brief moment, silence enveloped the scene, broken only by the soft sound of the woman's laboured breathing. Ethan held his breath, his gaze fixed on her, waiting for any sign of improvement.

Then, slowly but surely, something incredible happened. The bleeding began to subside, the exposed entrails started to mend, and the torn flesh on her neck started to knit back together. A wave of relief washed over Ethan as he witnessed the restorative effects of the potion taking hold.

The woman's chest rose and fell more steadily, her breathing becoming less strained. Colour returned to her pallid face, and a weak smile tugged at the corners of her mouth before she suddenly fainted.

Ethan had no immediate reaction to this as he also collapsed from exhaustion upon realising that the woman's neck wound had regenerated.

"That must have been a really high-grade potion," Ethan muttered aloud subconsciously, the taste of iron flooding his injured mouth.

"Shit!" Ethan cursed again, starting to hate the game before even playing it. He never thought a day would come when he would actually hate a game for being too real.

"Why does everything feel too real, though?" Ethan muttered as he slowly repositioned himself to sit. It was during this process that he noticed his current attire.

"Huh? Why am I wearing the clothes I had on at home?" Ethan muttered in a daze at first, before realisation dawned on him.

"Huh? Why am I wearing the clothes I had on at home?!" Ethan exclaimed as he immediately got up. It was illogical for him to be wearing his real-life clothes in a game when he hadn't even used a VR pod that usually scanned one's appearance before entering it. All he wore for the game was a helmet! The game developers had specially made their own VR headsets, and it was only the headsets they had released to the beta testers, so there was no scanning done for this event to have happened.

Realising this, Ethan's thoughts suddenly became a mess as he didn't bother that his hands were bloody and touched himself all around, discovering that the fabric of his clothes still felt the same.

Ethan wore a plain, soft cotton T-shirt in black, its sleeves reaching down to his elbows. Over the T-shirt, he had on a lightweight zip-up hoodie, providing a bit of warmth and versatility.

On his lower half, Ethan wore a pair of comfortable jeans, fitting loosely around his legs for ease of movement. The jeans were worn but well-maintained, indicating their regular use. Completing his attire, he had on a pair of black crocs.

This was the first time since arriving here that Ethan had taken the time to really check his appearance after the character creation was completed. As he observed himself, he noticed a bulge in his jeans pocket, sparking a suspicious thought in Ethan's mind.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no," Ethan kept muttering as he reached into his pocket to retrieve an object. The object was his phone.

Seeing this, Ethan almost collapsed as he started to realise things. For one, everything just felt too real to be a game—the sensation of blood when he held the woman's neck, the aches on his body, his wounded mouth, everything. It was all too real to be a game.

"No, don't tell me this is all real," Ethan muttered in disbelief as he collapsed onto his butt, but in the process, his right hand landed straight on his vomit. Feeling the weird slimy sensation, Ethan turned to look at what he was touching, and when he saw the breakfast he had eaten in the morning—a bowl of spaghetti scattered on the soily ground—Ethan's mind went blank.

"Is it all real?" he questioned in disbelief. "Am I still in a game?"