Wednesday, October 31, 2018

I reincarnated into a MOBA game?

Prologue
Pic found on the internet. Anyone knows who drew this?



“I am a beacon of knowledge blazing out across a black sea of ignorance.” - Invoker, DOTA 2

The earth shook and the dust cloud appeared, heralding the next wave of approaching minions. Mia waited impatiently as her minions advanced forward in a robotic pace that was neither too fast nor too slow. More accurately speaking, they weren’t her minions, but drones marching mindlessly towards the battle and their inevitable demise.

She flicked her brown hair back and checked her attire again. Mia had a thing for Chad sempai and really hoped he would notice that her bosom had gotten bigger. It was an illusion created by her corset tightening her waist and propping up her breasts, but all was fair in the name of love. It has at least caught Pepe’s attention. Pepe was a nice guy to hang around with, but Mia really wished he wouldn’t ogle at her so much. They were just friends, and things were starting to get awkward.

This was already the twentieth wave, and her team had mustered for the push to take the first tower. They had earned fewer points and loot than expected, but their leader had decided to make the push anyway. Their waves were gaining on the enemy, so this was a good chance to do so.

She and her four teammates held back while the 10 minions charged right into the enemy’s ranks. She could see that the enemy team had also gathered to defend against this push, and her fingers twitched as she was preparing her bow. Her comrades readied their range spells and weapons too as the minions from two sides held up the battle line.

Then, something unexpected happened. The opposing heroes followed right behind their minions and into the fray. The absurdity of doing so shocked Mia, but she quickly regained her composure and aimed her arrow at the dark-haired champion leading the charge, and let it fly.

Another unexpected event occurred. That champion swung his narrow and slightly curved blade and knocked the projectile away.

“A melee weapon?”

Fighting in the front ranks and holding the line was unbecoming for a champion. Champions were the elites who would direct the minions, focus their range attacks on weak points and keep other champions at bay. Equipping a melee weapon would render all that moot as the champion wouldn’t be able to grasp the big picture from the chaos of the battleline, limit the range of his attacks greatly, and put his safety at risk.

Before Mia could gather her thoughts, she got hit by two or three spells. She was careless and allowed herself to get into the range of the enemy champions. Mia immediately turned to flee, but the air before her suddenly shimmered, and something appeared before her.

“The champion with the curved sword…”

Mia could see that he was a young man dressed in green, with patches of green and brown of various hues covering his shirt and pants. His face was also green, with three stripes of black running diagonally across it.

And then, darkness.

Mia opened her eyes to find herself in the penalty box. She checked the countdown timer, which indicated that she could rejoin the fight in 1 minute. She sighed and reflected on the unusual strategy employed by the enemy. What they did, allowed them to win the fight, but would cost them the battle.

The enemy melee champion had ventured too deep and would definitely be cut down by Mia’s allies and minions. He wouldn’t be able to gain points and loot properly with a melee weapon, and his allies probably took some damage when they blitzed Mia. Mia was confident that her team would win in the long run.

However, Pepe joined her in the penalty box shortly after. Then two other teammates. And finally, Chad was here too. Their team had been wiped.

Mia shivered despite not feeling cold at all. She just realized that she had witnessed a revolution in the war simulation competition, ‘Defence of the League of Ancient Legends’.
Chapter 1

Interacting with people was boring to Justin Case. Talking to them was a pain, they demanded his time and attention, and they always butted into his business. However, Justin understood that he couldn’t survive without others, and tolerated their existence. After all, he wouldn’t be able to play multiplayer games alone.

First person shooter (FPS), real-time strategy (RTS), fighting games, and massively multiplayer online role-playing game (MMORPG)… He spent most of his free time playing computer games. Justin’s father gave him free rein, and the only thing Justin needed to do was keeping his grades up.

His forte was in RTS, where a player gathered and managed resources, constructed buildings as a base to create units, and maneuvered these units to defeat the opposing players. This genre requires a lot of micromanagement to deploy the units effectively, the gathering of intel to adjust your strategy in the most effective way, and the exploitation of the enemy’s weakness on the macro level.

Recently, Justin had been spending more time playing a modified version of RTS. This offshoot has gotten so popular that it created its own genre now— multiplayer online battle arena, or MOBA. Unlike the typical RTS, the player controlled only one character between two opposing factions. The computer would spawn generic foot soldiers and send them towards each others base every 30 seconds in an attempt to win the game by destroying the opponent’s base.

Justin loathed talking with others and felt relationships were shallow and too much of a chore to maintain. But playing in a MOBA was different for him. It was possible to form teams with people you know, but random teams of roughly equal skills could be formed for lone players like him too. His team of five was having a tight match against their opponents, and Justin’s team had edged out a win by doing something that he hated to do: talking.

By strategizing and working together, they were able to avoid traps laid out by the enemy, warn teammates of approaching danger, and pick off opponents who had wandered too far out. For example, whenever he lost sight of an enemy, Justin would report: “Top lane missing” through his headset, so his teammates would be on the alert and play more conservatively.

His team was slightly weaker than their opponents in terms of individual abilities, but their teamwork helped them overcome this skill gap in a nail-biting finish. As the game ran its course towards an inevitable end, one of the opponents sent a direct message to everyone in the game.

Some of you guys are alright; don't go to school tomorrow if you live near South Park.

Justin laughed. He thought this invitation to skip school was funny, but he had to keep his grades up. He had always been dense about things due to his adverseness to talking and didn’t think too much about this message. He took a quick glance at the replies;

Is beta uprising finally going down? You might want to chillax.

It’s either you off me or my parents do. I’ll be waiting, robot.

More cryptic messages rolled in, but Justin ignored them and logged off, having played enough for the day. He brushed his teeth, changed into his pajamas, and, just in case anything happened, Justin locked the door. It was time to do his next favorite thing: sleeping.



“… And so, the samurai in Japan could no longer walk about town brazenly with their swords. All types of weapons, such as swords, shurikens, and firearms became outlawed during the Meiji Restoration.”

The Japanology teacher droned on, concluding his lecture. He pushed his thick-rimmed glasses back on his chiseled face. His bulking pecs gave the illusion that his shirt was too small, even though it fitted just right. Justin could tell that he lifts.

“So Japanese citizens don’t arm themselves? Not even with guns? I didn’t know they are such a backward country.”

Nino asked. She was one of the many girls who took this class after the current Japanology teacher took over this course. Her fringe was trimmed uniformly, and she had two decorative ribbons tied on both sides of her head, which did nothing to keep her long brown hair in place.

“The culture in Japan is just different from us. To them, we are the ones who are barbaric for allowing anyone to own weapons. In fact, possession of firearms is illegal in most countries in the world. Having these weapons accessible to everyone didn’t really make anyone safer, and just provides more tools to criminals.”

Instead of offering any counter-arguments, the girls in class were simply left in awe. The teacher was opening the discussion to the floor, but his students didn’t seem interested in debating him. Justin felt like raising the point that the right to bear arms had the history of stopping the tyranny of the government, but the trouble and effort of debating a teacher well-versed in the subject was too much of a pain.

With no response from the class, the teacher continued with a sigh:

“For example, there is nothing to gain from anyone in this school possessing a gun. You are not packing any heat, are you, Nino?”

“Fuhaha, what are you saying, Chuck-chan.”

Nino answered affectionately, gleeful that she had the teacher’s attention. The teacher was a little taken aback by the high school girl’s intimate way of addressing him, but quickly composed himself. He was about to admonish her when the door was suddenly kicked open.

“Nino-sempai! Why are you fawning all over Mr. Norris!?”

“What are you doing, Tammy? We are in the middle of class here. And fix your hair, it’s a mess”

Nino answered the girl who barged right into class coldly. Tammy had dark shadows under her eyes, and her long dark hair was a mess like what Nino said, with her bangs covering the left side of her face.

“Why? Why won’t you notice me, sempai? And my hair has always been curly and fluffy! It’s not my fault that I’m not popular!”

Tammy yelled exasperatedly in tears. She then pulled out a handgun and pointed it at the teacher.

But, before Tammy could pull the trigger, Nino drew out two pistols and unloaded a hail of bullets at her.

Tammy staggered back and shot one round before falling over.

And the round… hit Justin in the chest.

Justin fell off his chair, his hand clutching his chest. Darkness slowly engulfed his vision, and the last thing he saw was a poster on the wall that says ‘Nice Boat’.

Next part of the story will be posted on: Probably never.


TL: Everyone is being productive and here I am, writing a cringy meme story for Halloween. Have a good one.

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