Christian meticulously cleaned the game interface. He washed, disinfected, and set every piece carefully down. He ordered the play area, set all objects outside of it so they couldn't be disturbed in case his body maintained some motor control during the game, and set an alarm so that he'd remember to stop playing, hoping it would wake him in just a few hours. Or at least provide an audible buzzing that would make him aware he needed to stop playing so he could sleep before work. Games were fun, and this would help him relax as well as allow for socialization in a personal fashion without all that icky touching people seemed to be so fond of. Shaking hands, touching shoulders, always with the touching. He preferred  it here, where touching was a digital impression upon his psyche and not a germ infested spreading of disease and chemical to the infection of his person through subversion. Hormones, pheromones, and all the other ways people insinuate themselves into your life and mind.<br/><br/>He slipped into the chair he had prepared, and after washing his hands once more he slipped the helmet on. Turning it on, he felt no change for a time as it calibrated and prepared, then it happened. He stopped hearing the whoosh of his air conditioner, filter changed monthly, nor did he hear the hum of his lights or all the assorted electronic devices in his home. He heard loading music, sounds of the game, and when he opened his eyes he saw... a city. It was interesting. He began walking about, and given that his knee didn't cause him immense pain he imagined that he must not be walking in real life. He wandered, looking up roads and down alleys to check how realistic they were. It was a very clean city, he liked that and at the same time found it extremely unrealistic. How did a city have no filth? He didn't like it any more than he would have in the real world, but a city was supposed to have some sort of uncleanliness. This was just unrealistic. As he walked the streets he found a baker in need of some rats exterminated. Rats.... if anything needed destruction it was rats. Diseased vermin, spreading their filth. In this sort of setting it could be the bubonic plague, and much though he didn't want the fever, he couldn't die here after all. He wondered how realistic the death would be, would he actually feel his life slipping away, or would he feel fine until his body ceased to move and it sent him to a respawn point.<strong>"Your offer is acceptable."</strong>He waited near the baker, until he saw the demonic individual looking down into the cellar.<strong>"You, you are also pursuing this quest? An equitable share is offered for your assistance towards its completion."</strong>The demonic features were certainly interesting, he had considered the race but decided on human. He didn't know if feeling as though he had a tail would be a pleasant or disturbing sensation. Watching hers move though, he also considered whether or not it was an algorithm or actually triggered by something in the mind of the player. After all, humans didn't have tails.