---
The next day, after Sam's experience of going to Hope New City, he went to Pete's house after their morning shift to discuss some things.
"Hey bud, I was thinking, and I think you are right—about what the future might hold. I'll say you are right; I can't keep working in stores for the rest of my life," Sam said seriously as he looked at Pete.
They were currently in Pete's room. It was a little smaller than Sam's apartment and just like any other male's room: a bed in the corner, posters of different athletes on the wall, a standard wardrobe, an air conditioner, and some other miscellaneous items. But what made this room different were the numerous gadgets and technological devices scattered around: a smartphone, iPad, laptops, and a series of screens linked together in a chaotic mess.
Pete might look like an ignorant fella, but he was a tech guru. When he wasn't at the store, he was hooked up to his gadgets, tinkering away, trying to find the next best thing. And that was why he was looking for extra cash—it was all about funding his next gadget.
"Why… why the sudden change of heart?" Pete asked, raising his eyebrows as he saw the serious look on his friend's face.
"My house rent is due, and my agent came to me with a warning notice telling me to pay up or I will be evicted after three months," Sam said with a sigh.
"Oh, I am so sorry, bud. You know you can come live with me; my door will always be open," Pete said, feeling sorry for his friend.
"Thanks, Pete, but even if I accept your offer, then what? I can't continue living with you forever," Sam said, staring at the ceiling.
"Getting a job with my high school certificate is very hard, and I am not a tech genius like you who can apply for IT internships in various tech companies. Going to any university now would require a fortune," Sam said, his current situation dawning on him.
"Okay, so what do you think of doing now? Whatever it is, I'll try my best to back you up," Pete said, looking at his friend with comforting eyes while gently gripping Sam's shoulder as if to reassure him.
"I have given it some serious thought, and I think I might be going crazy, but after yesterday at the underground fight club, I've made my decision. I want to participate as a fighter there," Sam said with a self-deprecating laugh.
"Whoa, slow down, bud. Are you serious?" Pete asked, stunned by his friend's decision.
"I am serious. I don't think I have ever been this serious before, but during yesterday's fight, especially during Striker's battle, I felt it within me—it was almost like a thirst, a yearning for battle. It was like I was destined for that sole purpose," Sam said sternly, not blinking as he looked straight into his friend's eyes, conveying the sincerity of his words.
Silence
Pete looked at his friend's serious face and, after a while, said, "Okay, I'll help you do this, but there are some things you'll need to do first. Do you by any means know how to fight?"
"Not really. I took some extra martial arts lessons back in high school, but I don't think that counts for anything, right?" Sam answered honestly.
"Well, sincerely speaking, no, I don't think that would be enough. You'll need extra experience to achieve anything," Pete said as he walked toward his workbench where his laptop sat.
"First and foremost," Pete said while typing some words on his system.
After he finished, a sentence appeared underlined on the screen: "A problem".
"You have a problem—or a task, whichever you choose. To complete or solve it, you'll need to follow this set of actions," Pete said while typing, causing several bullet points to appear on the screen.
After typing, he turned to face his friend. "Firstly, you need to know—or possibly learn—how to fight in the shortest time possible," he said.
"Secondly, you need to be fit and build your muscle, strength, speed, and endurance. In short, you need to hit the gym… and fast," he continued.
"And lastly, you need to do all this while working at Mr. Martins' place, which means you have to create a timetable."
"That is why I am here. Looking at your problem, I have created a solution for you. For learning how to fight, have you heard of VR games?" Pete asked, looking at Sam.
"Yeah… those Virtual Reality games, but I don't see how that will help me," Sam answered, raising his brows.
"I know you haven't played any, that's why you're ignorant of their uses," Pete said calmly.
"Please enlighten me then," Sam said, waiting for him to continue.
"Virtual Reality has been improved to an extent where you feel everything that happens during the game—especially pain. Except, of course, the indecent games that give you euphoria, which is still good. I mean, it gives you experience without really having to do it," Pete said, momentarily derailing from the main point.
"Master Myers," Sam called out using his surname.
"Yes?" Pete answered, snapping back to reality.
"Please continue," Sam told him.
"Oh, right. As I was saying, the pain factor helps stimulate your learning, keeping you on track," Pete said.
"There are several types, but when it comes to battle simulations, the Aurora Express is your best bet. It's a little more expensive than the others, but I'll help you with that. I still have money from the bets we won," he continued while scratching his chin—a habit he formed when his beard started sprouting, used when thinking or being serious.
"You said you have three months until eviction, right?" Pete asked, suddenly remembering something.
Sam nodded.
"I'm sorry, but you'll have to stay with me for the meantime because you have at least four months to become well-versed in fighting—or at least learn the basics," Pete said, holding up four fingers on his left hand.
"January will be in four months' time, which is also New Year. That's when a new season will start for the underground fight club. I want you to start early so that when the new season comes, you'll have enough time to gain a hundred wins… if that's possible," Pete said, muttering the last part to himself.
Sam looked on with a straight face, pretending he heard nothing.
"But there's still one issue: four months is too short for me to learn anything tangible," Sam said after thinking it over.
"About that, I think I have something that might help," said Pete, smiling as he bent down to search a drawer.
After a moment, he pulled out a small black device and tossed it to Sam.
"A flash drive?" Sam asked, examining it.
"Not at all, my friend. What you have in your hands is something I've been working on. It still needs some work, but for now, I think it will help you," Pete said, proud of his creation.
"Oh, what is it?" Sam asked, intrigued.
"I call it the Neurone Adaption Progressive Electronic device—in short, the NAPE device," Pete said with the proud look of a father introducing his intelligent child to the world.
"That's cool, I'll say. You keep surprising me," Sam said, clearly impressed.
"I'll take that as a compliment," Pete said, puffing out his chest.
"The device will help you learn faster. Think of it as copy and paste, only slower and more real. If you connect it to your VR headset while gaming, it will copy your moves and actions, make adjustments to help you, and offer solutions—the right path to take to correct errors as you progress," Pete explained.
"Okay, but how will that help me? From what you said, it offers solutions, but it won't make my learning any faster," Sam asked, pointing out the obvious.
"I'm getting to that," Pete said, with a slight smile.
"After it has copied those things, here comes its main function: adaptation. When a human is at rest—sleeping, to be precise—time is just a concept, especially during dreaming. Let me elaborate: someone can sleep for hours, but in their dream, it may feel like minutes. Someone can sleep for minutes, yet have a dream that seems to last hours or even days," Pete said.
"I get it now. You want me to play the game while sleeping," Sam said, finally understanding.
"Yes, but deeper than that. While you sleep, it will bring a VR simulation in the form of a dream, where you'll go through everything you did during the day repeatedly. What may seem like days to you is, in reality, only a few hours. No information your brain receives is forgotten—except in cases of amnesia or extreme trauma; the brain stores it, waiting to be recalled," Pete concluded.
"Holy shit, are you Iron Man or something?" Sam asked, baffled by everything.
"You'll find out the rest on your own," Pete said, already tired from the long lecture.
Sam nodded, looking at the device in his hands.
"This," he said to himself.
"This is the key to my next step."
*******