I reincarnated in game

1 Die in the International Convention

Music blared; lights flashed; cameras panned over the crowd who had gathered to watch the online tournament of champions. 

Hugh and his team, wearing matching uniforms of blue and gold, which shimmed in lights, took to the stage.  The crowd’s roar echoed off the walls as they cheered on their favorite players. Huge screens, to the left and right of the stage, showed the later players now arriving; shout casters made the introductions; the crowd was impatient for the game to start.

Twenty-four-year-old Hugh took his seat, looked over at his fellow teammates, then nodded to confirm that they were ready to do their best to win. Each of the teammates placed their gaming headphones on their ears as they logged in.  If they won this tournament, the prize money and notoriety would set up their future through sponsorship deals.  Hugh had thoughts of the brand new gaming tower he would be able to afford with his cut of the prize money.  He reached inside his shirt to rub the coin, on a chain around his neck, for good luck.  A sense of calm immediately settled upon him.

“3, 2, 1… Begin!” the announcer’s voice through the speakers.

Hugh quickly picked his character in Ether Sword and spawned into the game.  Each member took their place as Hugh called out, “If you see the enemy, remember to call it out!”

The sound of claws, scratching on the bark of trees was heard as animals in the forest, just out of view, made their way towards them.  “We have a few animals here that we can use to level but keep your eyes peeled,” Hugh uttered as he stared intently at the scene before him.  Hugh, who was known for his extraordinary APM (Actions per Minute), moved his hands quickly over the keyboard and mouse as his character walked forward, and with a quick swipe of his weapon, killed the animal; he gained xp.  

Hugh heard someone yell “Attack!”  He looked up and realized that the enemy forces had used the animals as a trap.  He called out to his teammates, “Watch yourselves! Fall back to help, if you can!” 

Being outnumbered, Hugh backed up, trying to avoid taking damage from the six encroaching enemy forces.  He retreated against the wall so that none of them could get behind him.

The group of masked bandits, dressed in black, attacked him with short swords and daggers.  Each of the blades, honed to a sharp edge, cut through Hugh’s armor, like a knife through butter, causing gashes in his skin; lowering his health.

Hugh fought back, using his sword to parry the next attack, and countered with a strike to the attacker’s throat with the tip of his sword.  The next bandit lunged forward and stabbed his dagger into Hugh’s shoulder, causing him to drop his sword to his side.  

Hugh’s character was able to grab the handle of the short sword, stopping it from going deeper into him.  He head-butted the attacker in the nose, forcing him away. Hugh pulled the short sword out of his shoulder; deflected the next incoming attack, and countered with one of his own, stabbing the bandit in the heart.

As quickly as he could, Hugh reached down to retrieve his sword just as two more bandits attacked, at the same time, flanking Hugh on each side.  He did his best to defend himself against the onslaught all the while biding his time until he could see his opening. It came. With a whirlwind strike, he spun himself around and attacked the two men, stabbing them at the side of the chest plate of their armor; wounding them fatally.  

Hugh popped a health potion, regaining half health; his wounds healed up, leaving only light scars on his body where he had been injured.

The two remaining bandits each pulled out a second short sword; now all the combatants, had two swords each. With a flurry of blows, the bandits fell onto Hugh, pummeling him to the ground; the damage took him down to ten percent health.

With a deafening yell, Hugh’s character screamed out, pushing the two remaining attackers off of him.  It was now his turn to react!  He charged at the closest one; did a feint to the face making no contact to make the bandit think he was striking there, and then followed it up with a sweep, slicing the enemy’s leg with the blade in his right hand. Screams of pain came from the injured man, as he lay on the ground, rolling around. 

Hugh ran towards the other man a few feet away.  It was now the last bandit’s turn to defend himself against attack from the character who had just killed four of his men and injured another. Hugh gripped his sword tightly in his hand and charged the remaining assailant.  This last bandit must have been at a higher level than the rest because he was able to counter each of Hugh’s moves with one of his own.

Both Hugh and his character were breathing hard; the clash of steel continued on until the fight reached its conclusion.  The crowd watched with bated breath as the numbers of Hugh’s and the bandit’s health fell, wondering who would be the first to die.

Hugh did an overhead strike; it was blocked and countered by a rising knee to the gut. The bandit swiped at him; Hugh blocked it and countered with a punch to the face.  A counter from the bandit disarmed Hugh and made him drop his sword to the ground, leaving him at a disadvantage.  Hugh went low, bypassing the bandit leader’s defense, then thrust his blade up, plunging his sword into the bandit’s chest.  Hugh was hurt from the wounds sustained from battle; the enemy fell to the ground, with the sword, sticking upright in the sun.  Then just as suddenly as the battle had commenced, the bodies of the dead turned to ash, and drifted away on the wind.

Hugh exploded out of his seat, ecstatic that he was victorious.

An odd sensation came over him; it felt like everything around him, including the crowd, slowed down. It was like someone dropped the FPS (Frames per Second) in the room. Everyone was still in the throes of celebration; it was all unfolding at a frame by frame pace.  Sounds were muted as well; like he was listening to them from the next room over, but his physical body hadn’t left the room.  His teammates rushed to his side, yelling his name, but to Hugh, they seemed so far away.  A sense of euphoria washed over Hugh, as his brain entered into a state of lightheadedness; he fell to the ground.

The event’s doctors ran onto the stage to attend to Hugh. One of them put a stethoscope to Hugh’s chest as another put a ventilator mask over his mouth.

Pandemonium struck the crowd.  “We will keep you informed on the status of Hugh Firth as it becomes available,” the reporters proclaimed to the anxious fans.