You Die in the Game, You Die in Real Life
I looked at my watch. I wasn't late, but I was cutting it close. The tournament was at 9:00 AM, it was 8:57, and I was still looking for the room the tourney was going to be in. I'd never been to the new event center where it was being held, but I could already see why everybody called it a maze.
I got the invite to the tournament a week before. It almost seemed too good to be true. A million dollar prize? Unheard of for a local tourney! And for Avenue Battler Omega II Superfast Emerald, my third favorite Avenue Battler game. Avenue From Battler IV-X Genesis Pearl was my actual favorite, but I was still good enough at Superfast Emerald to sweep most of the scrubs from any tourney around. And a million dollars! Enough money to completely change my life. I could finally get my own car, and then squirrel away the rest to live on when I went to college in a year.
"Oh, finally!" I said out loud in front of a door with a sign that said, "Fighting game tournament today!" I looked at my watch. 8:59, very close. I went through the door and joined the other five contestants sitting against the wall closest to the door. At the opposite wall to them, there was a big flat panel TV on a stand with a 3DO hooked up to it, and at the wall across from the door, there were several people at a table facing into the room.
I looked at my competition. I recognized all of them from the local fighting game scene, but I only really knew two of them. On the far end was Eddy Facemire, the asshole of the local scene. Next to him was Liz Pacy, who was known for her short temper, but I didn't think that was fair. I'd seen Liz get very, very angry a few times, but only when other people insulted her skills. Or her weight. After Liz was Mickey Matz, who I never talked to, but I'd seen dominate a few tourneys. The next person was Vinny Dredd. Vinny didn't talk much, but he was an excellent player. Finally, next to me was Kicks Davis. Kicks and I met at our first tournament, and we've been friends ever since. I sat next to him, and he patted me on the shoulder.
"Well, well, if it isn't my girl Taylor Faust, in the flesh," he said. "What brings you here?"
"I'm here to get a million dollars, of course."
"Oh?" His voice dropped to a whisper. "Sure you're not gonna lose to old Eddy over there?"
I chuckled. "Oh yeah, that moron? I'll stomp his ass."
"I'm not talking about the game, I'm talking about that IRL ass whoopin' he's just waiting to dish out. Any day now."
I tried not to laugh too loud. "Yeah, any day now!" Eddy talked a big game, but he did get into a real fight at a tournament once. Once. He still liked to run his mouth, he'd just run his feet if anything got too real.
Our conversation was cut short when the doors flew open. A man I didn't recognize peacock walked into the room. He had on sunglasses, a Hawaiian shirt under a half-unzipped black vest, cargo shorts, and a pair of sandals.
"What's up, everybody! Sorry I'm late, traffic was murder! HAH! Get it?"
The people behind the table stood and applauded.
"Thank you, thank you!" He looked to us and said, "Yeah, I guess you wouldn't get it. Not yet, anyway. So! I'm Stevie Max, founder and CEO of Virtcero! We've selected you eight... Hey, Mark, why are there only six players?"
One of the people from behind the table stood up. "Only six responded to the email, unfortunately. Six should give us enough data, though."
"Damn. Oh, well! We selected you six because you're some of the best fighting game players in the area. All you'll have to do is play to the best of your abilities. Hope you don't have any questions, because I ain't answering any! Let's get started! Mark, if you would do the honors?"
Mark stood up once again and turned on the TV across the room. Avenue Battler Omega II Superfast Emerald's attract screen was playing.
I looked at the guy named Mark, who was now shaking a hat. He pulled out a slip. "Eddy Facemire and uh..." He set that paper down and pulled another out. "Taylor Faust."
Eddy and I got up and went to our controllers. I ended up having to walk him through setting up the tournament mode because he was player one and I don't think he'd even seen a picture of a 3DO, since he looked so confused at the fact my controller cord was coming out the back of his controller. Finally, we got to the character select screen. I chose Old Man Bill, a character who looked like he wandered off from a nursing home, at least at first. Old Man Bill's moveset also seems lame at first glance, until you realize that while he has no strengths, he has no weaknesses, either. He was never in another Avenue Battler after Avenue Battler III. Eddy chose Tammy, a redheaded girl in a camo unitard that showed off her bust, with torn black leggings and a beret. I silently cheered - Eddy was strictly a modern player and probably didn't know how Tammy worked at the time. We both hit start. Tammy got into a fighting stance, and Old Man Bill flexed, exploding his grandpa shirt to reveal a slab of muscles.
The game announcer did his famous countdown. "Three, two, one, BATTLE!" Our characters leapt into the scene, a construction site filled with onlookers. I immediately went into action. I dashed to close the distance, high punched before the dash completed, and kicked to knock my opponent down. I then spammed kick a few times and dashed back. As soon as he got back up, Eddy dash kicked, knocking me down, and then jumped over me, wasting the opportunity to do more damage while I was down. What Eddy was trying to pull off was Tammy's leg drop, a move that wouldn't be introduced for another two games. I turned and grapple kicked Eddy into the air. I jumped, following him into the air, then low punched, sending him straight into the ground and doing extra damage. I was about to kick him while he was downed again, but it was my turn to mess up. I should've dashed back immediately, but I forgot that characters dropped down more slowly in the classic era, so all I ended up doing was kicking in the air uselessly. Eddy returned the favor by getting up and grapple kicking me into the air, higher than when I did it, jumping to meet me, and then kicking me across the screen. I had a surprise for him, though. In this game, you could do a half special when your special bar was half full. I figured I had taken off enough health to take him down this way, so I made my way towards him. Eddy made another boneheaded mistake, crouching and kicking twice. Here, he was trying to do Tammy's leg slide, yet another move not added until two games later. I could hear Kicks giggling in the background. I jumped up and did the special, a flying kick that connected with Tammy's face. Eddy's mistakes turned out to be fatal. Tammy screamed and flew back, landing on the ground. Old Man Bill pumped his fist in victory.
I looked over at Eddy. Kicks was laughing at him, and I had to stifle a laugh, too. His face was beet red and twisted into a scowl. I looked back at the TV just as the announcer said, "Round two, BATTLE!"
Eddy's anger cost him dearly. He did even worse in the next round, to the point I don't even think he got a hit in. When Old Man Bill once again fist pumped over Tammy's body and the announcer said, "We have a winner!" I turned to him in time to see him throw his controller down. He returned my look, probably pissed off even more by me smirking at him. He raised his finger and opened his mouth to say something, but I'd never hear what it was. I barely even registered the bang. The next thing I knew, half of Eddy's head was gone. His body seemed to fall to the floor in slow motion. My gaze seemed to move in slow motion, too, as it fixed on what Stevie Max was holding: a massive, golden handgun covered in black tiger stripes.
"Yeah! We did it!" shouted Stevie Max. His goons behind the table started cheering as well, while I just stood there. I looked to other four players seated against the wall. Kicks wasn't laughing anymore. Vinny looked some combination of confused and terrified. Liz's face was even paler than usual. Mickey looked like he was gonna puke. Everybody else in the room was clapping and cheering.
"You broke the TV, though!" called out one voice from behind the table. The cheers quieted as Stevie looked to the TV. I followed his gaze to find that the bullet that killed Eddy had also killed the TV.
"It's okay! Move fast and break things! That's what we do! Besides, we have spares."
"But what's your solution? You can't market a service like this that breaks the TV, it's too expensive." I realized I had seen the guy who said this before, on some magazine cover at the grocery store or something.
Stevie thought about this for a moment, then snapped his fingers and pointed to nobody in particular. "We change the angle!" He stepped to the side, a bit closer to me. "If I shoot them from this angle, the bullet won't hit the TV!" His goons cheered.
"What?" I said. It was all I could manage to say. Stevie looked in my direction.
"I bet you're confused by all the genius on display here! Allow me to explain. Sword Art Online. A show where you die in the game, you die in real life. When I watched that show 15 years ago, I was inspired! It'd just make games so real, you know? And people would pay a fortune for that! So here we are today, showing off my invention to investors!" He looked from me to the other players, then back to me.
"I can see you're all skeptical, and that's fine. I've already got two billion dollars of VC money from some very influential people who see the merits of my idea. Now come on, let's do some more testing. Tyler, was it? Weird name for a girl. Just stay there, we'll draw your next opponent."
A couple people got up from behind the table, one of them dragging a new TV out. Mark shook the hat and pulled out another name.
"Mickey Matz?" he said.
Mickey bolted to the door. Stevie shot five times, and hit Mickey in the back once. He fell to the ground, but still tried to crawl towards the exit, gasping for air. Stevie approached him, stepped on his back, and pointed the gun at his head. He looked back at us.
"Anybody else wanna try something stupid?" he said as he pulled the trigger.
"Do you need anymore ammo, Stevie?" said Mark.
"Nah, I got plenty of clips," Stevie replied, pulling a new magazine out of his vest and reloading the gun.
Mark cleared his throat and picked out a new name. "Vinny Dredd."
Nobody moved except Vinny, who sank in his chair. Stevie moved in front of him.
"Vinny Dredd, I presume?"
No response.
"Alright, buddy, carrot and stick. You get up and play, you get a chance not only to live, but to make a million dollars. You keep sitting there, you get no chance and you just die, like your friend Ricky over there." Stevie gestured towards Mickey's body with his gun. I noticed Kicks flinch as the muzzle swept over him.
Vinny was shaking, but he got up. One of Stevie's goons was just dragging away Eddy's body to the corner while another was removing the broken TV. The one cleaning up Eddy turned his attention to Mickey as the new TV got hooked up. Soon, the broken TV was thrown in the corner, on top of both their bodies, and Stevie Max was standing between us. He encouraged us to continue, his scowl replaced with a wide grin.
I could tell neither of us wanted to play, but what choice did we have? I chose Old Man Bill again, and Vinny chose his favorite, Kenji, a beefcake who wore a scarf, glasses, and a fig leaf. Soon, the announcer signalled the start of the match, and we began competing for our lives.
Right out of the gate, Vinny opened with Kenji's sonic shout attack. I dodged and dashed to him, trying to pull off a dash kick, but I forgot to hit the C button. Vinny jumped and then punched in midair, missing me entirely. I think he was trying to pull an uppercut. The whole match went like that, with me and Vinny making mistake after mistake. If this were a normal tournament, I would've been knocked out in the preliminaries. I don't even know how I won.
It was such a shame, I'd never get to play Vinny again. But eventually, despite my mistakes, Old Man Bill was standing over Kenji, pumping his fist with a feeling of joy I did not share.
I looked at Vinny. He didn't even look back at me. He just stared at the screen, his eyes wide in terror, before Stevie Max took a step closer and put a bullet through his head.
"Yes!" said Stevie, pumping his fist. "As you can see, the TV did not break! Changing the angle worked!"
His goons clapped. One of them got up and started dragging Vinny's body to the pile.
"Alright, who's next?"
Mark pulled another name out of the hat. "Liz Pacy."
Liz got up and walked to the controller. She didn't look scared, even as she picked up the controller. Anger and determination were spread across her face. Stevie took his place between us, and we started the next game. I once again chose Old Man Bob. Liz chose Frogboy. I shot her a look. Frogboy was the only character in this edition of the game that nobody liked. He did the most damage and also had the most melee range of any fighter on the roster, but the devs thought it would be a good idea to balance it out by making it so any of his attacks could be negated by dashing, walking backwards, or attacking, so if you did anything other than stand still or walk towards him, he was useless. Some players did win tourneys with him, but each one said it was really annoying to do and too much could go wrong to do it reliably. He couldn't even jump! Who creates a character named Frogboy that can't jump? This was his only appearance. Liz should have known this, she was as much of an Avenue Battler nut as I was.
We started the match. I bunny hopped over as Liz started using Frogboy's tongue attack. I reached her and began spamming kick faster than Frogboy's tongue could manage to fling. Frogboy took about five hits and flew backwards, croaking pathetically. The second round turned out the same as the first.
Just as predicted, even in my harrowed state, I beat Liz easily. I looked at her, wondering how she could have basically just let me win. Stevie approached her and raised his gun. She turned, angled her body away from the barrel, grabbed his arm, and threw him to the ground. All he could do was yelp as his feet hit the TV and the stand it was on. I could hear someone yell, "No! My 3DO!"
"Run!" Liz yelled. I turned to the exit, which Kicks had also started heading towards. I heard a gunshot and a scream. When I looked back, I saw Liz bleeding from her side, collapsed on top of Stevie Max.
"Someone get this fatass off me," he said.
"Liz!" Kicks shouted as I grabbed him and pulled him along through the exit.
"Come on, man, you want her to die for nothing?" I shouted. I ran for what felt like forever, until finally, I had to stop for breath. Kicks was a weeping mess.
"Kicks, we gotta call for help." I looked for my phone, but it wasn't in my pocket. I realized I left it on the goddamn kitchen counter at home.
"Shit, Kicks, you're going to have to call 911."
"I was working up the courage to ask her out!" he said through his sobs.
"Jesus, man, I'm sorry. Look, we gotta split up, they can't find both of us at once. You call the police, you can talk while you run, right?"
Kicks nodded. "Yeah..."
"Where are you, you little assholes?" I could hear Stevie Max calling from down the hall.
"Shit! Go! Now!" I shouted. Kicks ran one way, and I ran the other way. I could hear footsteps running after me. I made turn after turn, and still, my pursuer was after me. Then, I had an idea. I opened a door to some conference room and slammed it shut, then I went through the next door, which turned out to be a maintanence closet, and hid. I must've closed the door too hard, though. I heard the door to the conference room open, then shut a minute later. Then the door to the maintanence closet opened, revealing a very pissed off Stevie Max, his clothes soaked in Liz's blood, whose gun was pointed right at me.
"You and your friends are causing me a lot of trouble. It's a shame. I saw you play. You're good, even though you're a girl. You could've had a million dollars, and not just that. You could've had bragging rights. You would've been a part of history. The first person to survive a tournament where the losers died."
"You're sick," I said. The longer I had his attention, the longer Kicks had to get away. Besides, if I was going to die, I might as well call him an asshole.
"Sick? Are you kidding me? Death tournaments are gonna be big, you'll see. Well, I guess you won't." He pulled the trigger, but the gun only clicked.
"Shit, this fucking thing..." he said as he started to fiddle with his gun. I was about to take the opportunity to rush him, but then I heard another voice.
"Hey, there he is! Drop your weapon!"
Stevie turned towards them. "Woah, guys, this is all a big misunderstanding! If you'll let me-" He accidentally pointed his gun down the hall and was answered with an absolute hail of bullets. He dropped down to his knees, and then fell forward. I guess he couldn't even die without making it dramatic. Footsteps came towards me and a police officer poked his head around the door.
I met with Kicks outside. He had stopped crying, but he was clearly still shaken. Then he saw me and gave me a big hug.
"Taylor! I'm so glad you're okay!"
"Yeah, me too." He broke the hug.
"I can't believe this happened. I saw four people die. And Liz, she..." He trailed off, mouth agape, his eyes looking past me. I looked, and saw a parade of three body bags on gurneys, and then Liz! She didn't look like she was conscious, but they don't usually put oxygen masks on dead people. The paramedics loaded her up and drove off faster than I've ever seen an ambulance go.
"Come on, I'll drive us to the hospital," I said.