The New Players: An Unfortunate Connection
In what was once a luxurious residential area on Earth—now silent and desolate—a mansion remained occupied. Not by merit, nor by nobility, but through the corruption of those living within. Armed guards surrounded the perimeter with vacant expressions. They weren't bodyguards, but well-paid jailers protecting two parasites who drained mana at an inhuman rate.
Inside, a room was crammed with cables, screens, advanced machines, and a grotesque number of empty mana vials piled everywhere. They weren't just trash: each vial was the result of a cruel process that ripped the vital mana from living people, leaving them weak, hopeless, and stripped of will. It was energy stolen straight from the human soul, offered as forced tribute to the elven invaders now ruling the planet.
But none of that mattered in the slightest to the two brothers who lived there.
The younger one was short, obese, with a face deformed not just by nature, but by an absurd amount of randomly placed piercings—as if trying to mask his ugliness with metal. His thick, sweaty fingers desperately checked his gear's energy levels.
"Hey, you got another high-quality vial? The low-grade ones only last me a few minutes. Total garbage," he muttered with contempt, eyes glued to his monitor.
"The pile's over there, in the corner. Dad got more yesterday. Heard they drained an entire group down south. Some died during the process... but it was worth it, right?" replied the older one, completely remorseless. He was covered in grotesque tattoos and stared blankly at his screen, watching videos of self-harm and even sicker content.
They were scum. And they knew it.
They thrived on the mana trade, on other people's suffering. Their father, a powerful black-market merchant, provided everything—vials, security, tech, and access to private networks long lost to the rest of the world. While the world suffered, they lived as if they were gods.
A sharp sound broke their routine.
"Ting! You have a new message."
"A message? Who the hell even has enough mana to power a computer these days?" the older brother scoffed, wiping sweat off with a dirty towel.
[Hello, dear user. Would you like to escape this world? Live a completely different life? Conquer lands and protect the weak? Why not try playing this fabulous game called DRUNAI? This invitation is unique. It could change your life forever.]
[Do you accept? (Yes) (No)]
"Whoa… I got it too," said the younger brother, plugging a fresh vial into his system. The lights flickered on instantly, powered by the pain of others. "Must be some kind of VR game. Sounds interesting."
"A game? I don't have time for games… I need to check out the new girls they brought in. Might get to try one before they sell them," the older said with a grin that would freeze any decent soul.
"True. But there's still an hour until they arrive. We can play a bit first... and then have some fun with the merchandise," the younger added with a disgusting, lustful smile.
"I guess. Let's see what moron dares launch a game in this miserable world where you can't even power a coffeemaker without paying tribute to those damn elves," said the older, accepting the invitation with a laugh.
The younger followed suit, caring only for his temporary amusement.
…
Both brothers felt a sudden pull in their consciousness as their bodies were dragged through the game's connection. When they opened their eyes, they found themselves standing in a green field, surrounded by trees and fresh air, beneath a clear sky that seemed to mock them with its beauty.
"This looks... pretty decent," muttered the older brother, glancing around in mild surprise. But as he turned his head, he came face-to-face with a short, slimy creature, covered in oozing sores and disgusting green fluid. Its face, however, looked terribly familiar.
"Brother...?" he exclaimed in disbelief.
The other looked back, equally confused. His skin was moist and shiny like an amphibian's, with bulging eyes, a long tongue, and a body barely covered by a loincloth. He was a frog-man. Horrified, he raised his hands to his face... or what was left of his human features.
"What the hell happened to you?" asked the man, recognizing his older brother's voice as he looked at the green goblin before him, whose foul smell reached him even from there.
"And what the hell are you, some kind of mutant toad?!" the other screamed, looking down in disgust at his grotesque, stinking body.
As both tried to understand what was happening, Lua approached, as she always did, to guide new players. But this time, her steps halted abruptly. Her usually serene face tensed with a barely concealed expression of revulsion. Before she could even speak, Sia answered in her mind.
"Host... it seems their avatars were generated in sync with their souls and deeds. They're low-class creatures because that's what they are. Even a wandering soul would have more dignity than these two."
Lua nodded with a grimace, accepting the answer. But before she could formally welcome them, she saw the goblin peeking into his loincloth with a nauseating grin.
"Ha! Looks like the stories were true. Everything's in place. And if I can't strip down here, at least I'll know I can do it in private. This game's starting to grow on me!" he exclaimed with vulgar pride.
Sia began to explain something about racial reproduction and evolution limits, but Lua blocked the voice in her mind. She didn't want to hear it. Not now.
The two brothers turned upon sensing her presence, their gazes sliding over Lua's body like filthy blades. The goblin clicked his tongue, and the frog-man smiled like a predator.
"Wow, bro. This game is more realistic than I thought. Look what we got," said the goblin, staring at her shamelessly. "NPC or player? Who cares? If she looks like that..."
Lua didn't respond. Not yet. But her gaze turned icy.
"Come here, bitch. Kneel before your master," the goblin said arrogantly, raising his chin like he had conquered the world.
Nearby players, who had come out of curiosity to meet the newcomers, took a step back, stunned. Silence fell like a hammer.
"What did you say?" Lua asked in a neutral voice, emotionless—yet with a steel edge in her tone.
"I said get on your knees, you useless NP—"
He didn't finish.
Lua raised a finger.
She didn't chant. She made no theatrical gestures. Just a simple, clean motion.
A flame burst from her fingertip—but it wasn't ordinary fire.
It was a torrent of raw energy, black as night, streaked with pulsing red veins like open wounds. It expanded like an unstoppable wave, devouring the ground, the air, the nearby trees. The explosion razed a section of the forest in seconds, turning everything in its path to ash… except the other players, whom the fire ignored completely. The trees regenerated instantly… but where the two brothers had stood, only charred silhouettes remained—scorched into the earth like violent afterimages of a bad memory.
Above both marks, floating notifications appeared:
[Account permanently banned]
The players watched in a mix of terror and awe. No one dared say a word.
"Was that excessive?" one might ask.
"Absolutely."
"Does it matter?"
"Not in the slightest," Sia would reply with calculated coldness.
"My apologies, Host," Sia said immediately. "I didn't review their profiles before sending the invitation. I assumed their screen time would make them useful."
Lua took a deep breath. "Next time, even if it costs more energy... check. I don't want pests here."
She turned to the players, who now looked at her with a mix of respect, admiration, and a little fear.
"Are you still buying? I'm tired. The shop's closing for today."
"No, no. We've got what we need, thank you," Bert replied quickly. The others nodded, some swallowing hard.
"Perfect," said Lua, walking into her home—or what remained of it. One wall was completely collapsed, yet she entered with the dignity of a queen walking through palace gates.
"I admit it... I've fallen in love," sighed Loli, blushing, stars in her eyes.
"I totally support you. If you hadn't said it, I would've," said Sig, still in awe. "Though… those guys seemed kind of familiar..."
His gaze drifted to the charred shadows on the ground—but he chose not to remember from where.
–
"Aaaagh! Why does it feel like my soul's been ripped out of my body?!" screamed the younger brother, writhing in his ergonomic chair, drenched in sweat. His face was pale, his breathing ragged.
The older brother wasn't doing much better. His expression was a mix of fury and confusion, but his hand stayed firmly pressed against his groin. "Damn it! Even things I've never felt before are in pain! What kind of game was that?!"
Several minutes passed in utter chaos—groaning, panting, cursing—without them noticing how the air in the room grew heavier... as if the house itself was rejecting them. Finally, the pain slowly faded, leaving them exhausted but alive.
"That shitty game messed me up!" spat the older brother, eyes full of hate.
"What the hell was that? It felt real. Too real. The setting was brutal... and then bam! Hellfire, and it all went to crap," muttered the younger one, still hunched over.
"We were just about to have some fun with that smoking hot NPC and got thrown out like trash!" the older barked, stumbling toward his computer.
He turned on the screen, furious, and the first thing he saw was a glowing red message:
[ACCOUNT PERMANENTLY SUSPENDED]
A second later, the entire interface vanished. The access, the invitation, the game's logo… even related files were gone, as if they had never existed.
The younger brother ran to his own machine and found the same thing. Both frowned.
"Tsk! That game was buggy. Probably had one of those game-breaking glitches," the younger muttered, dismissing it.
"Forget it. Let's check if the merchandise arrived," he said, stretching lazily.
But the older brother didn't move.
"No. I'm not in the mood."
"Huh? What's wrong now?" asked his brother, surprised by the sudden lack of enthusiasm.
The older brother was staring into the void, his expression filled with frustration—but also… obsession.
"After seeing that woman… those eyes, that skin, that figure... everything else seems... gray. Soulless. Like looking at furniture."
"You're screwed, bro," the younger replied, shrugging before walking out.
The older was left alone. His gaze drifted across the shadows in the room, the empty vials, the silence.
"That woman... that goddess. She wasn't just a random character. She was real. She had to be based on someone. A model, an actress, something... I have to find her. That kind of beauty can't be just a dream."