5. How Veterans Deal With Stress
"I can't log out!" someone shouted, and just like that, the chaos exploded even further.
"He's right! We're stuck here!"
"I can't even find the settings here!"
"Dammit, where's the customer care center here?"
Matteo sighed, excusing himself from the growing hysteria. He preferred to process things in silence, away from the noise. No matter how much the others panicked, the reality remained the same—this wasn't just a game anymore. Even he had never reached the hundredth floor before, but maybe, with a party, it would be possible. Still, playing a game and being inside a game were two entirely different things. In here, he could actually feel pain his avatar felt and maybe even get hungry. There was no cushioned gaming chair, no mouse, no keyboard—just his own body, thrown into a brutal gaming world.
And the worst one yet.
For the hundred beta testers, being chosen as party leaders was both an advantage and a curse. They had control, sure, but they also ran the risk of being saddled with weak or incompetent teammates. It was a gamble, and Matteo wasn't the type to bet on uncertain odds.
Already, the desperation was setting in among the newcomers.
"Is anyone here one of the beta testers?"
"I need a party! Please, someone take me in!"
Matteo ignored the voices. His priority was clear—before anything else, he needed to choose a class. If he decided to form a party, it wouldn't be until much later, at least after the tenth floor. What was the point of recruiting people who hadn't even tasted the brutality of Neon Solaris yet? He needed survivors, not dead weight.
The veterans, meanwhile, wasted no time. They knew exactly what to do: claim a class before the system assigned one randomly and, most importantly, learn to endure pain. Some players were still fixated on finding a way out, but Matteo knew better. If they were really trapped in the game, then taking damage here would mean actual pain—maybe even death.
"Health potions, mana potions, armour," Matteo mentally listed as he made his way down the streets. I still have time before the first floor officially starts. He thought.
His goal was simple—stockpile as many resources as possible while they were still widely available. The higher they climbed, the scarcer and more expensive items would become. And that was where the real challenge began: his class would determine his future.
Originally, he had planned to tackle the game differently, but with the new party system in place, he would have to adjust. Some of the veterans were already kicking themselves for not memorizing their tactical notebooks, realizing too late that they had left them behind. But for players like Noble Zero, The Dragon, The Snake, and a handful of others, none of that mattered. They had memorized every detail of the game by heart.
"Now, which class do I choose?" Matteo pondered.
While some veterans hastily picked warrior or knight classes in a panic, Matteo refused to be so reckless. Even a mage could be more effective than a brute-force fighter. If he was going to be a party leader, synergy was key—he needed a class that would complement his future teammates, not just himself.
That was where the Class Fusion Stone came in. With it, he could merge two classes into one, gaining twice the abilities at the cost of twice the effort. Or, realistically, three times the effort. Unlike in traditional RPGs where you unlocked abilities automatically, Neon Solaris required players to train their skills to even use them properly.
Originally when playing a game this was not too demanding as you could simply dedicate yourself to grinding but being in the game was different. If you needed 100 sword swings to perfect a move the you would be doing it with your physical body and stamina.
For example, someone choosing an Elemental Mage wouldn't automatically be a master of fire magic. Without practice, their spells would be weak and inefficient— eventually becoming completely useless in battle.
Neon Solaris had always been ruthless. But now? Now, it was life or death.
Matteo glanced to the side as a group of terrified newbies confronted a cluster of calm, composed veterans.
"How the hell are you guys so calm about this?" one of the newcomers demanded.
To the inexperienced, the veterans looked almost indifferent, their expressions unreadable. But Matteo knew the truth—they were just as freaked out as everyone else. The difference was that under extreme stress, seasoned players relied on their gaming instincts.
Veteran players dealt with real life stress and anxiety by playing games. And for them, that meant playing the game. Even if now they had to do it in the literal sense.
Some veterans took a moment to touch the buildings, marveling at how real they felt. Others examined their environment and some random weapons, testing their weight, feeling the tension in the air. It was their way of coping—by doing exactly what they had always done.
Matteo finally arrived at his destination: the Martial Academy.
He didn't want to run into The Dragon again, but he had no choice. The academy was the best place to get stronger, learn techniques, and officially claim a somewhat sturdy weapon.
In the game, The Dragon had always treated Matteo as his rival, even though Noble Zero was the more natural competition. Matteo, however, saw The Dragon as nothing more than an annoying mosquito—a persistent nuisance that kept coming back to bite him in the back side.
But here, things were different.
There were no avatars to hide behind, no usernames separating them.
Matteo was just Matteo.
A small, physically unimposing guy who would be an easy target for anyone looking to throw their weight around.
The veterans all had the same goal: get stronger, fast.
It wasn't that they weren't scared.
This was just how they dealt with stress.
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