The crowd in the arena roared as John and Tommy looked down from the VIP box. Normally, the atmosphere, thrill, and excitement would have consumed them, but all of this washed over the two friends as they sat there, focused only on the two fighters. Zooming in using the advanced VIP features, Tommy set up camera angles to cover the coming fight in the best possible way and sat back in silence as Eve entered the arena. John's focus solely on this young woman, his one hope, no matter how small, and he clung to it.
Eve stood across from Ragnarok, a smile on her face. This was not some game where levels, equipment, and the like counted. There were no commands, no equipment level bonus. It was an equal battlefield, each class with set armor, weapons, stat points. The users' personal skills were all that counted, and Eve was confident in her skills. No one may know her, and those who did would not dare speak about her. She lived in the shadows of virtually all the most popular VR games, training and honing her skills. Already a natural genius, her relentless efforts had created a feared assassin in the virtual world, and this was her coming out moment. This was where she would announce her name to the world. It was all for Revelation12. She could see the possibility of being the best there would be, to be the best, simple. And this old fool would be her launchpad into Revelation12.
John held his breath as the countdown hit zero, and the fight began, the commentary washing over him. Right away, Ragnarok charged forward at astronomical speed towards Eve, sword poised for his signature move. Skills learned in a game could not be used in the arena. There were no commands. But a select few had mastered the reflex movements and skills inside games to such a degree that they could perform them not just in the arena, but in real life. And Ragnarok was one such person. His signature move, the triple slash, was an instant killing move. The footwork needed to complete this move was on another level - three slashes of the sword, one at the back of the knee, one under the armpit, and the final across the throat, severing three major arteries. John's heart sank to the pit of his stomach as Ragnarok instantly closed the gap and began to move towards the back of Eve. That's when it happened inexplicably.
Ragnarok, the master of the arena, slipped. It was an ever so slight slip, but it ruined his flow. His other leg tangled, and he fell face first into the sand of the arena. Eve, not missing this opportunity, moved like lightning. She was on top of him, daggers coming down, the blades slicing into each of his kidneys. A scream of pain erupted from Ragnarok. This may be virtual reality, but no ranked fight would play without a pain threshold. No pain may sound fun, but then if you don't feel the pain, how do you sense the danger?
But Eve was not finished yet. The daggers quickly withdrew, one plunging down into the back of the neck between the helmet and the armor, the other plunging under the exposed armpit, draining the last of Ragnarok health. Eve, straddling the back of the dead Ragnarok, slowly looked up at the crowd stunned into silence. The commentators had no words to describe what just happened. With a smile on her face, Eve wiped the blood from her dagger on the dead Ragnarok, stood up, looked around at the crowd still stunned into silence, shrugged, and said, "I told you so." Her voice echoed in the silence as she walked off the stage. And as if that was their cue, the crowd snapped out of its silence, and cheers and shouts echoed throughout the arena. Long after she left the stage, the chants of "Eve! Eve! Eve!" reverberated throughout the stadium.
Meanwhile, in a VIP box, two people were still stunned into silence. Shaking, John looked down at the betting slip in his hand, now shining with the words "Winner" written in bright letters. And under that, the winnings: £10,020,000.
John and Tommy were both in stunned silence as they walked over to the NPC cashier to collect on the bet. Neither believing this was reality; surely, when they handed over the slip, there would be some sort of mistake. This could not be real. Ten million... this was life-changing. Handing over the slip to the cashier, John held his breath as the cashier looked at it.
"Congratulations on your win, sir. Your winnings are transferred to your bank account now. Thank you for choosing the Oceanside Casino. We hope to see you again soon," the cashier said.
Quickly opening his bank via the system interface, scared to look, still half-believing this couldn't be real, there it was: his bank balance read £10,020,000.
Looking over at Tommy with a massive grin on his face, John exclaimed, "First things first, Tommy, that Revelation12 game—I'm buying the pods!"
Tommy, ecstatic for his friend, replied, "Damn, John! What a birthday present! And you're going to get to play Revelation12 from the moment it comes out, bro. I'm so happy for you."
John's smile widened as he let out a burst of laughter, putting his arm around Tommy's shoulders. "What are you talking about? I'm not going to play the game alone. WE are. How can I explore and adventure without my brother next to me? Fuck it, I'm going to buy us a house. We can game all day without any worries. How long have we been walking past the Open Oaks Riverside development? I'm getting us one of the penthouses overlooking the Thames."
Tommy once again stunned into silence, still trying to digest what had happened. "John, you don't need to do any of that. You won this money. This is your good luck."
Laughing even louder, John replied, "Let's log out and go pre-order the pods. And tomorrow, we're buying a house."
With that, they both logged out, returning to the reality of the real world. They removed their headsets and were greeted by the hostess and an older gentleman in a well-cut designer suit.
"Ah, Mr. Rogers and Mr. Smith, welcome back. I hope you found our virtual entertainment to your liking. And Mr. Rogers, congratulations on your good fortune," the general manager of the Oceanside Casino said. "As the general manager of the Oceanside Casino, I wanted to personally congratulate you on your foresight. There were very few backers for Miss Eve, and they only placed very small amounts."
John sat there, slightly embarrassed. Foresight? He had simply made a stupid drunken mistake and got lucky. I mean, he had that strong feeling and urge to place a bet, but that was not foresight. That was something else. This outcome was simply down to luck. He did not want to try and explain this, so he just sat there, listening to the manager.
"Your custom is greatly appreciated, and I would like to offer you a Platinum VIP membership. We offer this to all our most esteemed customers. With this, you can get a discount across our range of restaurants, hotels, gyms across the Royal Retreat Conglomerate. On top of this, we provide 1 million in credit inside our casinos with access to the VIP suites, both in our real estate establishments and our virtual establishments. You will also have access to a Coutts bank account if one should be needed. At some point, your membership card can be used as a credit card with all the added benefits a Coutts account brings," the manager explained.
Handing John a membership card that looked like a credit card made of solid platinum with the words "Royal Retreat" engraved on it and a small EMV chip, the manager pointed out the hostess. "Miss Johnson here will be happy to register your card with your biometric data and to help facilitate any transactions needed if you choose to use Coutts banking."
With a smile and a wave of the hand, the manager exited the room. John sat there, once again stunned by the implications of what just happened. Just the Coutts account alone was something beyond his wildest dreams. This was the bank of the rich and powerful, not just in the real world but the virtual world as well. Just what this bank offered was not fully known. What was known was that they had set up banking in most of the virtual world, dealing with vast virtual wealth and counting some of the most high-profile players on the planet.
Almost robotically, John followed the instructions of the hostess, transferring his bank and all assets across to his new bank account, not knowing that this membership would bring about great opportunities for him.