Auntie toasts the VRMMORPG

X-Mas Bonus Chapter

Clan Riverstone Biker-Jacket

Hub looked bewildered at the crowd in the clubhouse.

"Disco-Attire?" he asked. "Have I died and reincarnated in the Seventies?"

The waiters wore shiny blue metallic jackets instead of their usual T-shirts, and even the VIPs and the other staff conformed to the new trend.

"Hey, Gram, what's up with all those jackets?" He asked the stocky new guy and the only one who wore a shabby, slightly familiar-looking mech-suit instead of the disco jacket.

"The boss's mom is up. That lady started a new fashion trend all on her own."

"Do you mean Auntie Flo? Small white lady with short hair and an unhealthy obsession with toasters?"

He nodded.

"I guess we have to buy some mirror balls."

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Training Coffin

Mistress Lekaahine looked over her domain.

The cellar was barely lit, just enough to see the contours of the people who hung in chains on the walls.

The background sounds were groaning and exclamations of pleasure and pain accentuated by the snaps of whips, music to her ears.

"Mistress, I discovered a new toy." Her bare-chested favorite slave assistant knelt in front of her.

"Speak!"

"It is a coffin lined with tasers. The victim can get chained to it and stands on a vibrating platform."

"I love electroshocks! And you can do a lot of fascinating things with vibrations. Order it!"

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Stehaufmaennchen Game

Miles started his UFC Career one and a half years ago. Like many talented Canadian fighters, he went to the states for the big bucks.

His debut fight went well. He knocked out his opponent in round two without receiving significant damage.

The next appointment didn't go that well. Miles lost narrowly but tore one of the ligaments in his knee.

While he rehabilitated, a major change happened in the world of combat sports.

One of his coaches said, you can train for combat, but you can't practice combat. Martial arts destroy you when you perform them.

That changed with the advent of the brain-wave virtual technology. You can log in and fight to your heart's content without the fear of injury or overtraining.

The skill level of his competitors rose rapidly.

Eagerly, Miles ordered a capsule and logged in, only to realize that he sucked at virtual fighting and not only at fighting, but he failed even to walk a straight line.

The problem was his synchronization. He started at 23 percent.

Day after day, he did katas and hit the bags. First, the sync rose one point a day, then half a point, one point in three days, and at 48 percent, it stopped growing at all.

He researched and found specialists to help him. His sync grew again, albeit slowly.

Ballet lessons, balancing a pen on his pinky finger while standing on one leg, breathing exercises he did it all and paid more and more money for increasingly outlandish methods.