Chapter 57: How to act.

He missed.

How a gun handled mattered a lot, and these interstellar guns felt strange to him.

But missing only fired up his competitive streak. He had exceptional talent here, with very sharp moving-target vision and extraordinary reaction speed. Others relied on experience to aim, but Lorcan relied on instinct. In most action games he could learn the controls in a few tries, get the hang of them in five, and dare to enter high-level matches in ten. Otherwise he couldn’t have reached the national ranking in Star Warfare within two months of streaming.

Lorcan took out a dozen guns and tested the feel of each one. Within ten minutes, with no guidance, he could hit the seven ring on still targets every time.

The System applauded. "Host, you’ve got some serious skills."

Lorcan: "No big deal."

He was about to keep testing when the Admiral knocked on the pod’s door. "Fionn, are you dizzy?"

Many males got dizzy from 3D visuals.

Lorcan still wanted to play, but the original host was a proud, spoiled prince who would faint at the sight of blood. He didn’t dare stray too far from the character, so he opened the pod door, climbed out, and pretended to rub his temples.

"So dizzy."

The Admiral gave him a disapproving look. "I told you this wasn’t right for you. Come out quickly. Lunch is ready."

Lorcan climbed out and looked at her earnestly. "Mother..." he said softly.

Admiral Doherty: "?"

She was wary. "What do you want?"

"I’m an adult now, but you haven’t given me a birthday present! I want a birthday present!"

"...What present do you want?"

"I want this game pod... no, this military training pod."

"..."

The Admiral looked at him blankly.

Lorcan looked back hopefully.

They stared at each other. The Admiral kept looking blank, Lorcan kept looking hopeful, and two seconds later, the Admiral gave in.

One of the military’s top leaders, with a headache, waved a hand to tell Lorcan to do as he liked. So Lorcan ordered the servants to haul the Admiral’s training pod straight to the prince’s estate.

_ _ _

In the middle of the day he had no wish to nap, so he lay right down in the game pod. 016 helped him get around the Admiral’s account and register a new one.

016: "What starting model do you want for your character?"

Lorcan hesitated, then asked softly, "Can I use my virtual partner?"

016: "...Sure."

It imported the data for him, and soon a tall, long-legged, silver-haired, blue-eyed beauty appeared in the system. Lorcan tested how it felt and named the character "An Orange Lord," his streamer name.

He finished the default tutorial in under thirty minutes and was eager to try real-player mode. He couldn’t resist, so he entered the matching lobby, where the world chat kept refreshing with messages flying past.

To prevent revenge, most players in matched games were anonymous, except for a few commanders whose style or nicknames were too distinctive to hide. Right now the lobby was buzzing with talk about Major General Oisín of the Third Army.

"What’s going on with Major General Oisín? Who made him angry? He’s been on a rampage today."

"The Major General’s in a bad mood today. I’m scared just looking at his icy face. It feels like he’s going to drag me to a tribunal and skin me alive."

"He’s been playing since noon, almost until the end of the work day. He must have played at least thirty matches."

"I just got headshot by the Major General..."

016 followed Lorcan into the virtual system as a little robot accessory and poked him. "Are you going to join a match?"

In front of Lorcan, Oisín always looked gentle and polite, like a refined gentleman. But Lorcan knew that wasn’t the real Oisín. He gripped his silver-white pistol, eager to test his skills.

The System’s electronic voice sounded in his ear. "You have been matched. The IDs in this group are: Pure White Iris, Iron Ambition... An Orange Lord."

With Lorcan’s level of experience, he shouldn’t have been matched with Oisín. But Oisín had been slaughtering opponents all afternoon and scaring others away. It took a while to fill a group, which is how Lorcan got his chance.

The simulation was a bit like the real-life game Counter-Strike, with teams grouped automatically. The last player standing won. The system simulated all kinds of extreme environments in the universe. This round was set in an ancient forest, with twisted branches blocking the sky and roots and low bushes sprawling across the ground, a dense, tangled place.

Lorcan had played similar games, but this was his first time in full immersion. His stealth was average, his aim wasn’t steady, and he didn’t know the rainforest terrain. Within minutes, Oisín caught him.

The Major General’s icy blue eyes stared at him coldly, like lifeless gems, and his face was terrifyingly blank. He raised his gun without hesitation, his high silver ponytail drawing a beautiful arc in the air. The dark muzzle pointed straight at Lorcan, the gloved finger bent slightly, and the pistol fired.

Bang.

The shot echoed, and Lorcan was logged out.

016 commented, "Host, your wife is pretty fierce."

Lorcan was intrigued. "He really is."

Oisín, who always looked so gentle and humble in front of him, was like this in the military?

He logged back in and asked for another match.

This time the map was an abandoned seaside town. With so few players, he was grouped with Oisín again.

This time Lorcan’s evasion was better, and he slowly got used to moving in the full-immersion system. He lasted fifteen minutes before being cornered in an empty alley again.

Oisín stood on top of a ruined clock tower with his gun aimed straight at the corner. The strong wind lifted his white coat, and his shoulder braids gleamed in the sunlight with a golden glow.

He pulled the trigger.

An Orange Lord logged off.

Lorcan: "I just don’t believe it..."

He matched again.

This time he handled the gun better, with hardly any missed shots. He lasted over twenty minutes, and the System, which heard everything, helped a little. One of his bullets even grazed Oisín’s sleeve and knocked off his sapphire cufflink.

But with his magazine empty, he was cornered again.

The trigger was pulled, and An Orange Lord logged off once more.

Lorcan’s competitive streak was fully lit. He was about to start another round when the butler knocked on the door and asked softly, "Your Highness, dinner is ready. Would you like to eat now?"

Food still came first. Lorcan logged off, climbed out of the pod, and sat down at the dining table. Just as he was about to pick up his knife and fork, his light brain buzzed.

Oisín: "Good evening, my prince. Although only half a day has passed, I already miss you a little."

It came with a photo of a bouquet. The main flowers were roses and irises, set among green willow sprigs and fresh lemon leaves.

Lorcan put down his fork. His tone was unreadable. "Oh?"

Miss me? You just headshot me three times in the game.

Oisín: "I’ve prepared a bouquet of iris flower art for you, and I hope you like it."

The flowers in the vase were beautifully arranged. The roses and irises were rare, expensive kinds not often found on the capital planet. The petals were delicate, and they had been flown in that same day from where they grew.

Lorcan: "I like it. It’s beautiful. Did you make it yourself?"

Males liked soft colour schemes, and many females took courses in home design, but clearly Oisín hadn’t. He had come out of a match only two minutes ago, and this arrangement had many layers, high and low, all well matched. Besides the main flowers, there were many small branches and leaves as accents. An arrangement this complicated couldn’t have been finished in two minutes. The floral foam would have caught fire.

Oisín dodged the question and said only, "I hope it brings you a moment of joy."

Through the screen, Lorcan could picture the silver-haired beauty’s careful tone. He chuckled quietly and replied, "Of course. Thank you."

Oisín let out a breath of relief.

The Third Prince hadn’t agreed to the marriage right away, but he was still gentle, which showed some fondness. He was unlikely to tire of Oisín right after one night.

Oisín answered politely and carefully. "Thank you. It is my honour."

His polite phrases were getting more frequent. Through the screen, Lorcan could feel how nervous Oisín was. He seemed uneasy about being turned down that morning, which explained his frenzy in the combat system and his careful testing of Lorcan’s mood.

The chat should have ended there, but after a moment’s thought, Lorcan added a few more words to reassure him. "I’m about to hold my coming-of-age ceremony, and I’ll invite you. Remember to come."

The answer came quickly. "Of course."

His typing speed seemed to have picked up.

Oisín had no idea what the novel’s plot had in store for him. The dignity of the Iris Major General would be thrown away like the bouquet Lorcan had trampled, ground into the dirt.

Lorcan sighed softly.

He frowned as he opened the novel. "I’ll have to think again about how to act."