Las Vegas

"Welcome to Las Vegas! The great capital of space!" A grossly overweight Fat White Man stood in front of Kirk. Beneath Kirk's feet was a teleporter. Space had sent him directly here.

"How is this Las Vegas different from the one in real-life America?" Kirk asked curiously.

"Kid, let me put it this way: that Las Vegas is a lousy knockoff, a pathetic rip-off of our creativity. Compared to the glorious Las Vegas of space, the one on Earth is just a backwater!" The fat man puffed smoke rings from his cigar with disdain.

Kirk laughed. "So, this is space?"

"More precisely, it's space's headquarters. You can find anything you want here, as long as you have money..." The fat man laughed heartily.

"Money?"

"Survival Points. Lots of Survival Points. Equipment—especially high-end gear—is even better. Skill Points, attribute points, curios, anything that can be exchanged for Survival Points..." The fat man smiled. "You look like a newbie."

Kirk instinctively took a couple of steps back, his expression half amused. "Do newbies get discriminated against here?"

"No, no! God forbid!" The fat man hurried to explain. "I hate anyone who discriminates against newbies! If someone bullies you, I'll stand up for you!"

"You're that nice?" Kirk sounded unconvinced. "There's a saying in my hometown: no one gets up early without a reason."

"You're absolutely right. I'm just an early bird." The fat man chuckled. "I'm a professional broker, and I can also work as a professional manager. I'm here to welcome newcomers. Your arrival brings this great city endless vitality and wealth! So, at least in the eyes of us natives, you newbies are the most lovable people. Space will mercilessly punish anyone who discriminates against or bullies newbies. Of course, you still need to be careful not to get cheated. If you willingly let yourself be taken advantage of, even space can't help you."

"So what exactly do you offer?" Kirk was still a little confused.

"Information, of course!" The fat man laughed. "I'm in charge of welcoming you, like a greeter at a shopping mall. Then I can show you around the city and explain things, so you don't waste your precious 24 hours. Heaven knows why newbies are only allowed to stay for 24 hours..."

"What happens after 24 hours?" Kirk asked.

"You go home, of course. Good heavens, didn't they give you a Newbie Guide? Young people these days are getting worse and worse at doing their jobs." The fat man was furious. "Listen up, kid. I'll only say this once. Space is a vast concept. Supposedly, it was created by the God of Creation—who knows? We're at the Las Vegas headquarters of space. There are other headquarters, too, but few people ever get the chance to visit them. The worlds you're sent to are mainly based on American dramas—HBO, Fox, and so on. Of course, there are a few movies as well. You Contractors have to travel between different plot worlds, complete the tasks space gives you, bring back as many resources as possible, and then come here to enjoy life."

"Then why was I, a Chinese person, sent to an American drama world?"

"We don't really understand space's rules for recruiting newbies. But the fact is, you're here now, and it doesn't look like you can go anywhere else." The fat man shrugged and continued explaining. "You Contractors are like mercenaries. You might travel through time and space in movies, games, and all sorts of other worlds, constantly fighting to survive and evolve. The dropout rate is very high. I'm sure you've already experienced that in your newbie scenario."

"I know." Kirk thought of the dozen or so newbies who had entered The Walking Dead. Only a handful had returned to space.

"So what does Las Vegas have to offer?" Kirk asked curiously.

"That depends entirely on what you need. You can satisfy every desire here. Women? Girls? Girlfriends? Drugs? Mansions?..." The fat man's face lit up with excitement.

"What about equipment and skills?" Kirk interrupted.

"Equipment and skills—yes, yes, of course those are the most important things. You can buy them from other Contractors, or from space's shops. The super malls sometimes have sales, too. But those are all pretty common goods. You can trade with other Contractors, put things up for auction, or gamble!" The fat man grew excited at the word "gamble."

"Exactly! Just like this great city's name, gambling is everything!" The fat man handed Kirk a sheet of paper.

It had clearly been torn from the Newbie Guide. It read:

"Your space headquarters is a gambling city called Las Vegas.

"Here, as long as you have enough Survival Points, you can buy anything—even a second life. You can satisfy all your desires, too: beauties, wealth, and every kind of luxury. This is paradise for the powerful, but hell for those without money or strength. However, Las Vegas's greatest attraction is its highly developed and comprehensive gambling system. You can bet on anything. You can gamble away the keys, equipment, spirit stones, or anything else you've acquired—even your own life. Space takes a cut, and it's not cheap. But if you're lucky, everything can be yours.

"'Key gambling' means taking the keys dropped by plot characters, plot monsters, or slain Contractors and betting with them against other Contractors without opening them. Deals can be made face-to-face or through competitive auctions. Space will publish general information about the slain Contractor and the key's weighted fair value—the total value of all possible rewards multiplied by the likelihood of obtaining each reward, with the probabilities adding up to 100%—for gamblers to use as a reference. The auction has no minimum price; the final price is determined by supply, demand, and bidding. A Light Blue key might fetch a very high price simply because buyers like the information space has published about the Contractor, or because the Contractor had equipment a buyer particularly wants.

"'Equipment gambling' means betting on equipment without identifying it. High-level equipment must be identified with an identification scroll, an identification spell, or space's own identification service. Contractors can't learn identification skills themselves. A Contractor who obtains equipment can choose not to reveal its stats or have it identified. The equipment will remain shrouded in mystery, and only its quality will be known. With 'equipment gambling,' you can choose to make a 'Big Gamble' or a 'small gamble.' In a Big Gamble, you don't know what the equipment is or what its stats are; you simply bid on it with no minimum price. With a small gamble, you can reveal some of the information, even some of its stats, while keeping the rest hidden to gamble on. A piece of Dark Gold Equipment might have three stats revealed, leaving only the fourth to bet on—and that alone could make its value change more than tenfold. Since space supervises and verifies all equipment gambling from the moment the equipment drops, there's no chance for the house to rig anything. This kind of gambling is popular among human Contractors.

"'Skill gambling' is similar to equipment gambling. Monsters sometimes drop Skill Scrolls, and Contractors can bet on them without having them identified. Skills vary in quality and usefulness, so skills of the same grade can sometimes differ in price by dozens of times, making it possible to profit by reselling them.

"'Betting your life.' In space, money can buy anything: big-bottomed women, drugs, fine liquor, mansions—even your life! Plenty of pleasure-seekers end up as gambling addicts, and when they've lost everything, all they have left is their life. Don't worry—space gives you a chance to turn things around. You just need to fight in the underground arena or challenge an enemy, another Contractor, or a monster. You can still claw your way back from the bottom, and the rewards are generous—as long as you survive. If you die, you'll be reduced to nothing. If you fight an enemy, you might even inherit most of his assets! Other Contractors can place bets."

After Kirk finished reading, the fat man rubbed his hands together and smiled. "Since I, Pang Leisi, have spent so long explaining everything to you, how about giving me some business? For just 100 Survival Points, you can hire me for a day. I'll show you around Las Vegas as efficiently as possible. Like I said, you only have 24 hours in this enchanting city, and that could determine whether you survive your next plot world. Every minute is worth a fortune!"

Kirk was persuaded and transferred 100 Survival Points to him. A white light flashed in the fat man's eyes, and his smile grew even brighter.

"Ah, my dear client, Mr. Kirk, where would you like to start? The casino? The auction house? The hotel? Or the Moulin Rouge, where the gorgeous long-legged ladies are lined up like a forest? That place is heaven." The fat man was already rubbing his hands lecherously.

Kirk glanced at him. He hadn't expected that, besides being a broker and professional manager, the fat man might also be a pimp. That was interesting.

"I'd like to see the room space has arranged for us," Kirk thought. First, he needed to check out his own place.

"Room?" The white man was taken aback, then burst out laughing. "Mr. Kirk, like a lot of newbies, you've watched too much of that infinite-flow stuff. This space doesn't give newbies private rooms!"

"Then where do we stay?" Kirk was startled.

"Hotels. Temporarily, anyway." The fat man blew a smoke ring. "You have plenty of choices."

"Does it make any difference to how much our strength improves?"

"Your Health Points and energy recover at different rates, but the difference is small."

"What about safety?"

"No difference. They're all perfectly safe. No one can enter your room before you check out, unless you've been killed and someone gets your blood-red key card and uses [Plunder] to rob your personal belongings. Otherwise, entering your room counts as an offense against space and has serious consequences."

"Then I'll stay at the cheapest hotel." Kirk was blunt.

The fat man was speechless. He earned a commission whenever he took a newbie to a hotel, and the cheapest one paid the least. But most newbies weren't well-off, so naturally the vast majority chose the cheapest hotel.

"Fine, Mr. Kirk. We'll head to the Sword Bay Hotel now." The fat man led Kirk, listlessly, onto a teleporter. Kirk felt his body grow weightless. When he came to, he was already inside a hotel that looked as if it belonged to the age of the Forgotten Realms. Outside, a crest showed a two-handed greatsword rising from a lake. The words on it identified the place as the Sword Bay Hotel.

Through the open door, Kirk saw that the place was noisy and chaotic. A pretty blonde waitress sashayed like a butterfly among the boorish drinkers, her deep cleavage bringing her all kinds of tips and other payments as she smiled seductively.

The fat man had intended to take Kirk to this filthy, rundown hotel and talk him out of staying somewhere cheap. He hadn't expected Kirk, a homebody who loved the Baldur's Gate series, to light up at the sight and immediately decide to stay.

The White Fat Man was speechless.

It looked like he'd really run into an Iron Rooster—or a penniless guy. There wasn't much profit to be made here.

After taking Kirk to the bar, where he paid 500 Survival Points to the tall, leggy, seductive proprietress, the Fat White Man showed him to his room.

"This room has already been paid for through ten plot worlds. You can stay here and choose all kinds of services. You can also charge things to your account and go into debt. If you can't pay it back, space will deduct the cost from your equipment." The fat man seemed to have decided he wanted nothing more to do with this penniless guy. He tossed down a Newbie Guide to Survival and walked away.

Finally, he left Kirk with one piece of advice: "Mr. Kirk, here's a word of warning: in this damn space, staying alive is what matters most!"

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