AW Interlude 3 - Prodigy Of Cheating (Patreon)

Five years ago.

“Holy shit, Seven, you’re in the top one hundred now!” Vasili said with a beaming grin.

Seven rubbed her cheek with an awkward chuckle. “It’s all thanks to everyone else.”

“That’s without a single competition win!” Vasili kept gushing. “Just join the Bangkok two versus two event with me. We’ll clear it in one sweep. You can probably clear the one versus one event for a Worlds ticket as well.”

“I can’t,” Seven said with more awkward gestures. “And stop saying I’m Thai out loud!”

“What, Boss already knows we’re from the slums,” Vasili said, and continued teasing her.

Annath leaned on a column in her guild hall—a grand Roman-style palace with golden chandeliers and pristine marble floors with some modern touches added in, like a television screen built into the wall. Annath’s Father had designed the building as a passion project, being an architect, with some help from Pelle to make the building at least somewhat practical.

In Wonderwind, guild halls couldn’t be picked with simple templates. Everything had to actually be designed. Annath knew many exterior and interior designers who made a full-time living solely designing guild halls in Wonderwind. Additionally, materials had to be paid for with gold. The costs were a tiny fraction of what a real building would cost to construct, but for a video game, the restrictions were insane. As a result, owning an imposing guild hall actually conveyed power.

The television displayed a countdown timer of 25 hours and 11 minutes until the Path Of Apotheosis expansion would come live. Once that timer hit zero, the wilderness would turn into chaos. Hundreds of gear pieces would be lost amongst the top players as everyone competed to clear the most ground on the expansion grounds.

Until then, many of Annath’s best players were on a well-deserved break. Many also stayed—the members who had more of a social life in VR than outside. Annath’s personal break included a quick visit to say hi to her family, all of whom immediately inquired about her career. She’d left after extended family had started pleading her to invest into their crypto businesses.

“What, is your face that different in real life?” Vasili was saying with a teasing grin. “Don’t be shy. This September, I’ll pick you up, and we’ll compete.”

“Mm,” Seven said nervously. “Can we really win as two mages? We’ll have bad matchups.”

“Hardly a problem when you can cast Funeral Sun faster than Pelle can nock an arrow,” Vasili said. He patted Seven on the back. “I’ll be the best support you’ve ever had.”

She blushed a little, avoiding eye-contact. Annath felt her cheek lines slowly rising while she listened in.

SevenStrife’s gear set had improved drastically, with a beautiful red and black dress that buffed straight-casting. She’d grown all the way to level 172, matching top players. Socially, she was still the awkward bumbling idiot she’d been on day one. Difference was, she’d now proven to be one of, if not the best player in the guild. She quite literally did the work of two fire mages alone.

Annath pushed herself upright from the pillar and took a few steps forward. “Seven. This will be your first event run, correct?”

The playful tone disappeared from the conversation as Seven turned to Annath. “I’ve cleared old expansions, of course. I’ve never been the one discovering the map.”

“I’ll need you online,” Annath said sternly.

Seven said nothing.

“Out of our fire mages, you have by far the most DPS,” Annath said. “Not only because of your skills, but your equipment as well. We’ve invested heavily to bring you to your potential. The guild is aiming to compete with the frontrunners. Your presence will be crucial for the first week.”

“I’ll be online as much as I can, of course…” Seven’s eyes pointed lower and lower. “I would like to promise I won’t log out… But I can’t.”

“The new game pod has arrived, has it not?” Annath asked.

She bit her lip. Seven was the only person who could look so unconfident in such an elegant legendary dress. “It did… It, um… I’m sorry, it has not fixed the log-outs.”

Vasili stood by her side. “You should tell her. She’s the guild leader.”

Annath raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, I think I should stop hiding this,” Seven said. "The log-outs aren’t caused by the game pods. It’s because… I have a health condition.”

“Ah,” Annath said. So I bought you a new game pod for no reason…

“I knew a new pod most likely wouldn’t have fixed anything,” Seven said. “I just got too nervous to decline your offer. I’m sorry…”

“You deserve a top-notch game pod regardless,” Annath said. “I don’t mind supporting my guild mates.” She crossed her arms. “I would like to know what your health condition includes, however.”

“It’s… a vomiting disorder,” Seven said. “The game pod thinks I’m too sick to play.”

“I see,” Annath said. And instead of telling me, you’ve lied for a year, saying your pod is broken…

Annath wasn’t sure what else to say. Had Seven been any one of her other members, Annath would have been berating them by now. This really wasn’t a lie one should keep.

To Seven, Annath said, “We’re all guild mates here. Nobody will make fun of you. I’ll offer any support I can.”

“Mm,” Seven said. “The pod might kick me out next week as well. I don’t think I can do anything about it.”

“Do you have a doctor?” Annath asked.

Seven nodded. “Of course.”

“A good one? A personal doctor?”

Seven said nothing.

“You have money now,” Annath said. “If there’s anything that will help you be more comfortable, or fix your log-outs, you should invest in that.”

“Mm,” Seven said again, head still low.

That was the exact opposite of a confident answer. Seven was so insanely timid. Guild members called her humble, but Seven’s lack of agency could get annoying at times.

“I’m going to try an older VR headset,” Seven said. “The health risk detector might be worse.”

“Please take care of yourself, Seven,” Annath said. “And never forget exercise. I won’t ever ask my guild members to sacrifice their health just to grind through a dungeon. Even one hour of running does wonders for your health.”

Seven gave no response and instead said, “The guild has been amazing. Thank you. I’m so sorry you have to deal with my problems.”

“For someone like you, I will remain patient,” Annath said. “And if health risks are causing your log-outs, I’m prepared to do anything to help keep you healthy.”

Annath thought Vasili would have rolled his eyes to see Seven receive special treatment. Nobody else received such kind words from Annath, and everyone was starting to notice that. Instead, Vasili listened attentively, agreeing with everything Annath said.

He didn’t seem to be jealous about losing his position as an enkindler anymore. In fact, he had respecced entirely into a support mage.

Now that Annath thought about it, Seven and Vasili had been close lately. They often teleported into guild raids together. The two were such opposites by personality that Annath had doubted they could become friends, but it seemed she’d been mistaken.

Not to mention, Vasili already knew of Veyra’s health problems even before Annath herself, and they were both Thai. Were they actually growing closer?

Once again, I’m only good at yelling people into compliance…

“I really love this guild,” Seven said. “I’m so thankful. Really. Everyone is amazing here. I’ll try my best to return the favor. I won’t let you down for the event. And I’m sorry for hiding my condition. I’ll try to be less secretive.”

“Seven is always giving her all, Boss,” Vasili said, taking a defensive position in front of Seven, though he was half a head shorter than her. “You can’t expect her to carry the guild every time.”

Annath studied the two. “Are you dating by any chance?”

They flinched at the same time. “No,” Seven said. “We’re friends.”

“Have you met in real life?” Annath asked.

Vasili turned to Seven. “I would like to, to be honest. We really should compete in that tournament.”

“I agree,” Annath said. “Tou two would win that.”

Seven gave that expression again, as if she really didn’t want to say yes, but she couldn’t gather the courage to give a firm no either.

“Either way, you two need to get ready and prepare for the expansion,” Annath said. “It’ll be the busiest year of our guild so far. I recommend warming up early. I’ll be practicing my fundamentals before bed tonight. You’re free to spar with me.”

“I’ll run through my spell rotation,” Seven said, while Vasili rested his hands behind his back, as if already knowing he would skip practice.

Annath stopped bothering them and turned away, checking her system notifications. She’d blocked direct messages from non-guild mates and friends, automatically directing those to her manager instead. Thanks to that, she often went days without receiving direct messages. Most chatting happened in the guild chat.

Two minutes ago, however, she’d received two messages from Sekirra.

Sekirra: “Hey, I just found some concerning data. Seven might actually be cheating. You should see this.”

Annath paused her stride, seeing the message. All of her earlier thoughts were forgotten, replaced by hesitation.

Annath: “The cheating allegations are just from forum trolls. I’ve seen them, and I won’t look at them anymore.”

Sekirra: “No, this is new. It’s serious evidence. You should call me right now if you’re free.”

Annath: “Give me a moment.”

With a frown on her face, she teleported to a more private room in the guild hall: a computer room atop one of its spires. Computers with keyboards were still useful even inside virtual reality, and knowing Sekirra, he was probably about to show her some details on a traditional computer.

She called him, and he picked up immediately. He wasn’t online in virtual reality, instead speaking from a computer setup connected to Wonderwind’s client.

“What do you mean Seven is cheating?” Annath asked.

“I’m sending you a graph,” Sekirra said. “I analyzed every pro that uses quick-casting. The X-axis represents the five seconds that system-casting requires to cast Funeral Sun. Vasili’s attempt is below it at just above five seconds. I included support mages as well with their comparable long cast-time ultimates. Most quick-casters can get a five second spell out in around four and a half seconds. Renlia and FireBrand are at the top with three point nine and three point four respectively.”

“And your point? Where’s Seven?”

He snorted, then expanded the picture, zooming far out, until a dot revealed itself well above the crowd. “Seven is at the top with two point four seconds.”

Annath smirked. “Impressive.”

“No, it’s impossible,” Sekirra said. “The difference between Seven and the second best quick-caster is literally larger than the difference between FireBrand and Vasili. She is unmatched. This level of quick-casting just isn’t possible.”

“So you’re serious about this?” Annath asked. “You’re accusing your own guild mate using statistics as proof?”

“When statistics are as damning as this, I can only come to the conclusion that Seven is cheating,” Sekirra said. “A random underage girl can’t be this much faster than the rank one fire mage player. Take a look at this.”

Sekirra sent her another file. Opening it, Annath was faced with some sort of hastily put together program. She had five buttons in front of her with skill names listed on them.

“Click Funeral Sun,” Sekirra said.

Annath did so with a frown on her face. Upon clicking the button, the program showed her a visual image of [Funeral Sun]’s quick-casting pattern. The program passed through its pattern automatically, completing the spell in two point five seconds, passing through the spell as if its complex patterns were nothing.

“This is a quick-casting cheat I programmed,” Sekirra said. “It tricks the neural receptors into believing the user is quick-casting, while all they’re doing is clicking a button. It took me less than a day to code, and it already works perfectly on offline servers. Wonderwind’s anticheat stops me from using it live.”

“I still do not understand your point, Sekirra,” Annath said.

“My point is,” Sekirra said, “That I’m ninety percent certain this is precisely the type of cheat Seven is using. She’s not actually imagining anything. Every time she casts a spell, she activates a cheat trigger to automatically perform the spell instead. As I just proved, creating a cheat like that isn’t difficult. All she has to do is pass Wonderwind’s anticheat, and she can use it on the live servers.”

Annath found herself clenching her fist. “Sekirra, you cannot accuse a guild mate of cheating by saying that their achievements could technically be cheated. Nobody has breached the anticheat in years.”

“All I’m saying is that breaching a security system requires one lucky idea. I’ve hacked multiple systems using oversights nobody else found. Conversely, getting this good at quick-casting requires a one in a billion prodigy, if casting like this is possible at all. My cheat also visualizes how fast you need to move for a two point five second cast time. That’s not humanly possible.”

Sekirra’s last part was one Annath could almost believe. Passing [Funeral Sun]’s pattern in under four seconds was already insane. Two and a half was utter magic.

“I’ve seen people solve a Rubik’s cube in under four seconds,” Annath said. “This has to be possible as well. Wonderwind is all about breaking limits.”

Sekirra was silent, until he said, “I see. Regardless, don’t be surprised if she gets banned soon. I’m sending this to Wind Virtual’s security team.”

“Sure,” Annath said. “I encourage that. If Wind Virtual themselves catch her cheating, it’s a completely different story.” She saw her reflection from a mirror and saw the irritation on her face. “And Sekirra.”

“Yes?”

“If you mindlessly accuse a guild mate of cheating another time, you will be kicked out of the guild. The Celestial Order is no place for witch hunts.”

“I… understand,” he said.

***

The next morning, not only did Sekirra accuse Seven of cheating again, he did it publicly on the forums, posting the same findings there, dumping the largest shitstorm of the guild’s history straight to Annath’s shoulders.