Prisoners of VR

Chapter 3: Augmented Reality



Chapter 3: Augmented Reality

The youth exited the apartment and approached a cycle parked at the entrance. It had a lock to its front wheel, so anyone that steals it wouldn’t be able to ride it, not that anyone bothered to do so in an era of laziness.

Why bother stealing a cycle when there were vastly better alternatives out there. Despite that, he had locked it.

The youth patted the seat, observing the dust layer that had formed on it, “The air pollution in this city is horrific as usual.”

He took out a kerchief and cleaned it, his eyes calmly trailing over all joints of the cycle while doing so. ‘Alright, no tracking devices have been planted on my cycle this time.’

He placed the umbrella on the rear carrier and boarded the cycle, whistling a popular tune as he rode it.

Honk!

A car rushed past him right as he turned around the corner. The youth didn’t react to the car, but his eyes trailed over to the suited individual seated in its rear seat, barely observable through the tinted glass, ‘As expected, he’s here to dress up the situation. Pomegranate Corporation, Bureau of Cyber Space, Director Amish Thakur. Such a weasel.’

Within the car, the suited individual, Amish Thakur was browsing through the news on a hologram, cursing under his breath, “Those subordinates of mine are useless. The media sniffed this news in a matter of minutes, but I’m being informed an entire seven hours later?”

He had grey sideburns, a clean-shaven chiselled face, and a decently bulging belly due to a lack of physical exercise. Just as he intended to look into the news further, the pair of horns attached to his head—his uVR Earth—blinked twice, alerting him as he turned to his right in a hurry.

His eyes trailed over the figure of the youth driving a cycle as through his sight, his uVR clicked over a dozen pictures.

Through the Augmented Reality feature of his uVR Earth, a transparent screen hovered before him, visible only to him. Displayed on it were the pictures he had just taken.

Amish Thakur zoomed into one of the clearer pictures, staring at the familiar jawline as he announced to the driver, “Reverse the car!”

“Is something the matter, sir?” The driver asked as the car arrived to a halt.

“Chase the cycle we just passed by,” Amish Thakur said as he looked through the window. The car retraced its path and arrived at a halt beside a cycle, the rider of which seemed to have gone into the bakery beside.

“Wait here,” Saying so, Amish Thakur exited the car and entered the bakery, for a moment frowning at the hygiene of the place, as someone who frequented only establishments three stars and above.

The bakery was small, occupying an area of forty square metres. Four tables had been placed there and only one of them was occupied. Amish Thakur observed the youth seated there, drinking tea while munching on some veg rolls.

“Rahu Sastry…” Amish Thakur frowned when the latter didn’t even bother to glance his way, “Why the heck are you here?”

“Did you not notice my gorgeous cycle parked outside?” The youth, Rahu Sastry pointed towards the entrance as he finally stared at Amish Thakur, “Can’t a man cycle peacefully in this country?”

“You’re twenty kilometres away from your home. Surely you’re not here coincidentally?” Amish Thakur intended to take a seat but upon inspecting the condition of the place, he refrained from the notion, feeling it was beneath him. He patted Rahu on the shoulder and walked away, “I pray you didn’t meddle in Saurav’s case.”

“I’ll sue you otherwise.”

“Who knows?” Rahu said calmly while sipping tea, “Besides, you don’t have the right to sue me.”

Turning around, he let out a smile, “My hands are clean, you see.”

“Unlike yours.”

‘This fucker!’ Amish Tiwari felt anger rush to his head, intending to deal with Rahu Sastry. Right as this time, he received a call. Glaring at the annoying youth, he returned to his car and instructed the driver, “Let’s hurry.”

“DOVA is already on this case.”

He then closed his eyes and arrived at his Virtual Space, one that resembled an office. A screen hovered before him, displaying the caller ID. Amish Thakur accepted the request and stared at the shadowy figure that appeared before him.

“Did something happen?” Amish Thakur observed the shadowy figure in confusion.

“Anubha Tiwari has called the police and claimed that Saurav Tiwari has been murdered.” The shadowy figure said, “I had to use my influence to prevent them from filing an FIR. But I can at most buy you a couple of hours.”

“Make Anubha retract the complaint.”

“I’m on my way to her house now.” Amish Thakur said in seriousness, “I just saw Rahu. DOVA is already on this.”

“Rahu…” The shadowy figure muttered for a moment before his gaze hardened, “Then you must hurry. With his capabilities, he would have extracted data from Saurav’s uVR. We can’t allow this case to be transferred to DOVA.”

“Our plans will be messed up, especially since we are only one month away from launching our largest VRMMORPG.” The shadowy figure glared at Amish Thakur, “Too much money is riding on this. Our necks too. So, don’t screw this up.”

Once the shadowy figure vanished, Amish Thakur remained in silence for a moment before dialling another number, “It’s me…dispatch the goons. I don’t care if you break his face or limbs. Put Rahu in his place.”

Sigh!

Once he returned to reality, Amish Thakur massaged his forehead, feeling slightly exhausted, ‘My age is getting to me. Using Virtual Reality is more exhausting than in the past.’

The car arrived at the middle-class apartment; Amish Thakur walked inside, cursing mentally when the lift didn’t work. Grunting at every step, he climbed the flight of stairs and finally reached Anubha’s house. ‘Those DOVA bastards won’t be getting this case.’

Seated in the bakery was Rahu, smiling in satisfaction once he finished his tea. ‘Seems she successfully contacted the police.’

He paid the bill and exited the bakery, boarding his cycle to pedal it slowly. Soon after, he picked up speed. He continued to whistle while pedalling, neither listening to music nor engaging in anything distracting, focused just on his cycle.

Well, it wasn’t easy to waddle through his city’s traffic, especially since the driving skills of those on the road were…what to say, erratic at best?

Vroom!

Once he entered the main road, a group of motorcycles surrounded him, keeping pace with him as their engines whirred aloud every time they cranked up the accelerator. They surrounded him while plying the road, preventing him from breaking free of the encirclement.

Rahu wasn’t in the least flustered, having been through similar situations plenty of times. He observed the motorcyclists, ‘They are just common thugs. They have neither been briefed about my status nor my capabilities.’

“My hands are clean, unlike yours.”

Rahu recalled the statement he said to taunt Amish Thakur. This was the latter’s response to it. To deal with these thugs, he would have to use his powers, which meant he acted on civilians without a permit.

He disliked getting a memo on his record. The moment he slipped up here, his enemies would take advantage of that. Plenty of people with sway over the country’s economy hated him and his colleagues.

‘Good, there’s some open space here.’ Rahu thought as he focused on a spot on the road a hundred metres away. He felt a minor migraine as his braincells whirred into overdrive, causing brain activity to spike two-fold.

Thousands of commands flowed from his brain, through the Neural Connector, and into the Nerve Gear, causing it to light up with a sharp, jade hue.

Rahu continued to cycle as he stared at a police car now parked at the empty spot on the road. The closer he approached it, the slower he pedalled. He stared at the closest motorcyclist and asked softly, “Do you need something?”

The motorcyclist was just about to taunt Rahu, as instructed by his boss when he noticed the police car. Its door opened as a police officer got out, noticing the group of motorcyclists surrounding a cyclist. His body language implied that he was curious about their group.

The motorcyclist’s original intention was to lure Rahu into a side road and gang up on him there. But he couldn’t do that in front of the police. Clicking his tongue, the motorcyclist signalled the others as they drove away from Rahu.

‘They left fast.’ Rahu thought while his eyes focused on the number plates of all the bikes as his uVR Earth pictured them into its memory. He intended to figure out their identities once he returned to work. As long as he was on Saurav’s case, they would return to harass him sooner or later.

Rahu stopped before the police car and stared calmly. After a minute, he calmly pedalled forth, passing through the car that flickered and vanished. There wasn’t a police car there in the first place. He had fooled the bikers.

Rahu pedalled for twenty kilometres and arrived at the street where his home was situated, observing the group of bikers huddled right at his house’s entrance. There were no police here, so they weren’t afraid to assault someone.

A screen flashed before him as Rahu dialled the number of his superior, speaking once the call went through, “A group of thugs are waiting in front of my house. I’ll be taking action against them.”

“W-Wait, don’t forget to record everything. We need proof…”

“I know, sir.” Saying so, Rahu disconnected the call and parked his cycle, staring at the biker group as his uVR Earth shone, slightly brightening up the street as the faces of the bikers went from complacent to shock, and from there, panic gradually settled in.


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