Guldrin’s Gluttony: Family Bound by Speed & Food

(Bonus Chapter Due to Power Stones, Thank You to all who support my work! Special Thanks to all who have given me reviews, while not detailed, each rating helps: MercenaryRollen, and DAO_of_Umu. Thank you, your support keeps me going.)

Over the next few weeks that turned into months, his routine continued: wake up, work out, eat, train, eat, practice, eat, and then spend time working on his Chevelle. He had made substantial gains in his foundation, but his system seemed to have reached its limit, reverting to providing base items.

He received a few boxes of handgun ammo, different grips, iron sights, and assorted other items. Feeling he wouldn't gain much more by signing in while working with his pistol, Guldrin shifted his focus to exercising. To his surprise, the result was similar, he gained water bottles, protein bars, and a semi-useful free weight set. Realizing he wouldn't gain anything further, he tried something different: he began signing in while holding random items around the shop. Holding an oil can, got him a large bottle of Gojo soap. Eating a sandwich earned him a simple sandwich-making kit.

Then came the real rewards. While sitting with Shiro as she worked on her game, he received some useful mice, keyboards, and mouse pads. Deciding to maximize his sign-in multiplier, he continued signing in for five consecutive days. On the fifth day, something extraordinary appeared. Crossing his fingers, he signed in and found a sleek black desktop PC in front of him with a single note attached:

"Corsair Vengeance i7500 Series Gaming PC - Liquid Cooled Intel Core i9 14900KF CPU - NVIDIA GeForce RTX 4090 GPU - 64GB Vengeance RGB DDR5 Memory - 2TB M.2 SSD - Black: Released in 2024… Beware, let none find this device, as it will disrupt the technological advancement of the world."

Shiro, who had just come back from the bathroom, was stunned to see this beast of a computer next to her bare-bones setup. She rushed over, examining it closely, while Guldrin pocketed the note to keep it hidden. This was his first and only clue about the origin of his mysterious system, and he still hadn't told anyone about it.

The sight of the new PC left Shiro speechless, her wide eyes reflecting the RGB lights pulsing from its interior. The powerful build looked as if it had come from another dimension, and in a way, it had. She was about to ask questions when Guldrin shot her a look that silenced her. "Think of it as... a gift," he said casually, though his heart raced. He dared not explain further, even to her.

Shiro nodded slowly, catching his hint. Together, they set up the PC next to her old, clunky one, with a few connection adapters. The juxtaposition was almost absurd, the sleek black tower dwarfing her previous setup in both power and presence. After fitting it with multiple adapters, and connectors Shiro booted it up, Guldrin couldn't help but feel a mix of pride and awe, as though he were witnessing a bridge between his new life and something unknown yet deeply connected to him. While the system had given him mystical gifts before, this was the first time something from a different time was placed right in front of him.

Over the next few hours, he familiarized himself with the system while watching Shiro explore it excitedly. She mentally cataloged its specs, impressed by the power now at their disposal. This machine was far beyond anything they'd seen in their current world. Half-jokingly, Guldrin wondered if it had been smuggled out of a military lab. The possibilities were endless: Shiro could develop her game to levels her old setup couldn't handle, and he could use it for his own purposes, though he hadn't yet decided what those might be. Shiro remarked that this upgrade would reduce her game's development time to just a few months, opening up vast possibilities for her future projects.

In the days that followed, the PC became central to both Guldrin and Shiro's projects. Guldrin spent hours compiling fragments of memories into a file he kept hidden on the PC's encrypted system, thanks to Shiro's expertise. He documented vague recollections, some bordering on surreal tactical exercises, combat scenarios, and phrases from voices he couldn't place but that felt significant. Each detail was saved, each word meticulously recorded, as he pondered whether they were memories of a past life or something else entirely. Sometimes it was so clear, and sometimes it was as vague as a flipping colt revolver.

Meanwhile, Shiro's game project surged forward. With the enhanced processing power, her modest game grew into a fully realized virtual world. She developed intricate character models, programmed detailed quests, and refined her combat system into something remarkable, ensuring it would run smoothly even on outdated systems. Evenings turned into a ritual of play-testing new features with Guldrin, who often critiqued her dialogue or suggested additions that sounded like they came from a seasoned strategist.

Weeks blended together as his routine continued. Each day was the same cycle of rigorous training, broken only by meals and time spent working on his Chevelle. The system hadn't offered anything groundbreaking lately, but he didn't mind; he was making steady progress on his own. Looking through his journal, where he'd documented every sign-in, he marveled at the items he'd received, each with its own use and significance.

Emily peered over his shoulder, her tail flicking. 'Keeping a log of all the random stuff, huh?' she teased, glancing at the list. 'That PC was quite the jackpot, wasn't it?' She wanted to explain more about the system, but rules prevented her. Guldrin chuckled, tapping the journal. "Yeah, it's like a time capsule of everything I've been through. Makes me wonder what's next." She nodded thoughtfully, nudging her head into him with a playful feline smirk. 'Who'd have thought that a 'gutter rat,' as that 'mean man' called you, would be learning to thrive?' They spent the next few hours reminiscing as Shiro continued play-testing her fantasy RPG, a game inspired by something she called Skyrim.

The garage grew quiet, and as he ran his hand over his developing muscles, Guldrin muttered to himself, "I really have come a long way." He reflected on his training, the muscle memory from practicing with his pistol, his knife fighting against palm trees, and his bloodied knuckles from conditioning. Every bruise and every ache was proof of his growth.

Shiro's game, Glimmering Isles, had evolved into a fully dynamic world filled with lore and epic quests. Each character felt real, with complex personalities and rich backstories. It was her escape, her way to connect with something beyond their reality. Though she had no voice actors yet, Guldrin felt the lack didn't detract from the game's experience.

One day, Shiro teased him, "Think you can take on my army? I need an overarching enemy faction, and I'd like to see what tactics you'd use against them." Guldrin accepted the challenge, diving into the game and taking on the role of a lone adventurer. The combat was fluid and dynamic, and it didn't take long before he was hooked. By the time he broke through the enemy defenses, he realized that Shiro had created something beyond just a game.

Shiro watched him with pride. He leaned back, satisfied. "Not bad, but your generals should be more capable. If they'd sent a few lieutenants as a flanking force, I'd have been toast. Sending many foot soldiers at someone who can burn through them like ants isn't exactly a reasonable choice. Instead, I would have been done for if they had sent a few tens of foot soldiers as a smoke screen, only to blindside me by throwing ten or so lieutenants at me. My entire ranks would have fallen apart, and I would have been surrounded."

She laughed, taking his feedback in stride. "You're pretty good", Guldrin heard this a man's aiming finger guns popped into his mind and he couldn't help but chuckle shaking his head, "Maybe you'll be a good beta tester after all. I will certainly take that advice into consideration. Maybe I will leave it this way for different difficulties but change it for the MMORPG version and the IMPOSSIBLE difficulty, that way the single player who wants to steamroll the game, can, but anywhere that matters, they will have to struggle and overcome harsh challenges." 

Guldrin nodded. "Maybe. But I think you're onto something big here. This game… it's more than just something to pass the time. It's... it's real. I felt like each character was real, they had families, likes, dislikes, and everything a real person would have had. I felt remorse for each death, each betrayal hurt, and I couldn't look at it as a game." He paused, looking at the screen as though the world within the game was coming to life before him. "You're going to make a lot of people feel like they're living in another world."

Shiro nodded, "That is the intention, to make something that feels no less real than our world. That is my dream, but with the technology available, it will take a long time before I can accomplish this goal. I want it to be a place where people can escape, where they can be anyone they want. Not just a click-and-grind, but a world they can truly immerse themselves in, a world that feels alive."

Guldrin leaned back in his chair, silently watching the flickering light from Shiro's screen as it cast a glow across the room. The world she was building felt like more than just a game. It felt like a reflection of her own spirit, her determination, and, perhaps most importantly, her search for meaning in a world that didn't always make sense to her. She was breathing life into something that reached beyond their small bubble of existence, creating a way for people to escape into a world of their own, where they could experience the triumphs and losses of a living, breathing universe.

Shiro's vision wasn't just to create another RPG. She wanted to offer people a way to live within something bigger than themselves, a place where their choices had real consequences, and their actions shaped the world around them. To her, games were a means of escape, a way to live an extraordinary life, to strive for perfection, or to simply enjoy the freedom to do as one pleased and live with the consequences.

As the hours passed, Guldrin couldn't help but think about his own journey, the one that had led him here. He was still far from fully understanding who or what he was. His memories were fragmented, scattered like shards of glass in a dark room, some clear, others shrouded in shadow, accompanied by shooting pains and headaches. There were pieces of himself he couldn't quite put together, a puzzle he couldn't solve. His memories of his time as Snake, or Jack, were particularly elusive, fading in and out like old dreams he couldn't quite grasp.

But Shiro had found a way to help him make sense of it all. The book, the memoir of his forgotten life, had been her idea, something she'd pushed him to write. It started as a few scribbles in a notebook but blossomed into something much larger. As Guldrin reflected on his scattered memories of Snake, he realized the book wasn't just about the past; it was a way to move forward, to build something new from the pieces of himself he didn't yet understand. It was a way to find meaning in the fragments.

He could still remember when he first confided in Shiro about his memories. He'd expected her to think he was crazy, but she had simply replied, "I'm from a different world or time; why would it be impossible for you to have another set of memories?" Her words shattered his fragile understanding, allowing something new to take shape. The idea of writing about a life he barely remembered had seemed ludicrous. But when he started, the words flowed unexpectedly. The memories of Snake were fragmented, yet they held a certain rhythm. A story was emerging, not just about what he'd done, but about the person he'd become along the way, even without fully realizing it.

"Memoirs of a Forgotten Soldier," Shiro had called it. The title carried both weight and a long-lost promise. It spoke to the essence of who he was, a soldier without a name, a past shrouded in mystery, but still a person. Shiro's title was more than apt; it captured his struggle to piece together his own identity from fragments of history.

Shiro had insisted on helping him with the book. At first, she was hesitant, unsure if she could capture the depth of his memories or understand the nuances of his life. But as she read his notes, she began to see a story with the potential to reach people, to resonate beyond the words on a page. It wasn't just a soldier's tale. It was the story of a young teen who was forced to become a man and had sacrificed everything for his country, a man whose identity had been erased, a figure shrouded in shadows who was known only as Snake.

One of his clearest memories was the day he killed his own mentor, standing over her empty gravestone. Even after she was branded a traitor, she was honored with a place in the national cemetery.

 He could recall that day vividly, the president's empty congratulations, the numbness he felt. He left the ceremony and went to the cemetery alone, speaking to her memory and leaving with a salute, only to come back years and years later. The once well-cared-for cemetery was a far cry from how it used to be, and he felt old. The man once called Snake, now referred to as Big Boss, spoke to someone he couldn't remember, someone who had meant a lot to him, but for the life of him, he couldn't make out the man's face.

'If you'd been in my place back then… Maybe you wouldn't have made the same mistakes that I did. Ever since the day I killed The Boss…' Her gravestone bore the words 'In memory of a patriot who saved the world' It was one of the most prominent and vivid memories in his mind, 'With my own hands... I... Was already dead. Boss... You were right. It's not about changing the world. It's about doing our best to leave the world... The way it is. It's about respecting the will of others... And believing in your own. Isn't that... What you fought for? At last... I understand the meaning behind what you did. At last... I understand the truth behind your courage.' He remembered the last salute of his life, feeling ancient, as though that moment was his last. It was his clearest memory, yet hazy, leaving him unsure of how he'd gotten there or who had been with him.

Together, he and Shiro spent countless hours combing through his scrawls, filling in details, adjusting timelines, and weaving together the threads of a past cloaked in shadows. It was more than remembering events; it was about capturing the emotions, the moments of clarity and confusion that had shaped him. There were gaps, of course, parts of his life too hazy to understand fully. But they didn't dwell on those; they focused on what he could remember, on what he had learned from the fragments.

Shiro had become more than just a collaborator. She was his confidante, the one who pushed him to confront the parts of himself he had been running from. Slowly, the book began to take shape, not as a recounting of his life as Snake, but as a narrative of survival, redemption, and the search for meaning in an ever-shifting world. Along with the ever-crushing consequences of a life lived under the control of others and the despair of loss and tragedy.

As the manuscript grew, they began discussing the possibility of publishing it. What had once felt like a distant dream was now a real possibility…? The story had gained structure, momentum, and an emotional depth they hadn't anticipated. It was a universal story, one that would resonate with others who had faced their own battles, their own moments of doubt and confusion.

"I think it's ready," Shiro said one evening after reading the latest draft. She set the manuscript on the table between them, her fingers tracing the edges of the paper. "It's not perfect, but it's real. It's your truth. It may not be a truth of this world, but it's what you remember."

Guldrin looked at the manuscript, the pages filled with his memories and his life as Snake, even if he couldn't remember anything after he became Big Boss, he knew whether that would happen in the future, or not; for the first time, he didn't see himself as a soldier lost in time. He saw a person. He saw himself, as a fragmented, yet 'Naked' part of himself, unobscured by redactions and classifications. 

"You think people will want to read this?" he asked, his voice filled with uncertainty.

Shiro nodded. "This is real, uncensored, from someone who lived the life, survived, and was crushed by it. People need stories that matter, that speak to them. Yours does. It's more than just war or pain. It's about the journey, the lessons, and your outlook."

Guldrin felt a lump rise in his throat. He hadn't expected to feel this way, but there it was, the weight of his past, a past of a different him, of who he'd been, and who he was becoming. He wouldn't let it consume him, but he would carry these memories, using them as a guide. Furthermore, he wouldn't be bound by duty or country again; he would be free, protecting those he loved.

"Then let's do it," he said quietly. "Let's share it with the world."

In the months that followed, they polished the manuscript, refining it to give the story the clarity it deserved. It wasn't easy; there were doubts along the way. But with Shiro's support, he pushed through, feeling a newfound sense of purpose. When the manuscript was finally ready, they took the thrilling, terrifying step of submitting it to publishers. What lay ahead was uncertain, but for the first time in a long time, Guldrin felt like he was coming to accept his previous self, and embraced it.

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