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go on this Great Exodus of yours?” Chloe asked, her eyes narrowing.

“The transfer of consciousness will be entirely voluntary,” Kiran assured her, and Menfil chuckled. “Our analysts are certain that 90% of non-citizens will go willingly — they have nothing to lose in real life. Anyway, their family and friends will be right alongside them. Accordingly, based on the program’s goals, the government has been actively encouraging non-citizens to seek work in Dis, and sponsoring the production of free non-citizen-type VR capsules. However, as of today, the only successful consciousness transfer has been that of Patrick O’Grady.”

“And in the meantime, dissatisfaction rises…” Menfil noted, cocking his head. All eyes now on him, he exchanged a glance with Kiran, who nodded, and Menfil continued: “I doubt you can even imagine how the non-citizens live, and the moods that gain popularity among them. If several billion inwinova march on your cozy districts, the resulting slaughter will make the Third World War look like a child’s birthday party.”

“But that’s impossible!” Chloe’s voice, sharp as the whine of a power sander, made Kiran grimace. “We have the orbital complex, the robocops and the peacekeepers to protect us!”

“Half your precious peacekeepers were once inwinova themselves,” Menfil snapped back. “But let me get one thing straight. Miss Cliffhanger, do I understand correctly that you do not oppose the use of force against the inwinova if they attack citizen territory?”

“Of course not! They must know their place and respect the laws! If they violate the rights of citizens, then they have to be taught a lesson!”

“What if there are children, old people and women with them?”

“Inwinova,” Chloe spat. “Scum.”

“Does everyone else agree?”

Cries of support for the marketing director echoed through the room. They all thought life on the planet would be far better without the inwinova. Menfil nodded approvingly:

“Perfect. Then I hope our plan B doesn’t shock your fine sensibilities. It was designed as a more radical alternative to the Pilgrim project. Optimization does what the orbital military complex could do, only far more humanely. You now know how immersion affects humans. The more time a person spends in Dis, the more real he perceives his surroundings, which makes the brain try to force the real body to conform to the virtual. I trust I don’t need to explain to you the concept of psychosomatic illness?” Menfil asked, looking around the room and nodding in satisfaction. “Good. The stigmata work in roughly the same way.”

“The undead?” someone guessed.

“Exactly.”

“So what does that mean? They’ll turn into zombies in real life?”

“Before I answer that question, let’s take a short tour into biochemistry…” Menfil attacked the attendees with scientific terminology, and when he realized that few understood, he sighed in disappointment. “Alright, for the lay people. To put it simply, the brain of a player who has turned undead, upon seeing its own decomposing body, causes necrosis in the tissues of the real body. Non-citizen capsules are fitted with special brain activity catalysts designed to enhance that effect. Without urgent medical intervention, this guarantees death.”

“Nobody will link mysterious deaths to a virtual game…” Bellamy breathed thoughtfully. “The Optimization project will cut down the planet’s excess population.”

“Optimize the population,” Kiran corrected him.

“Do you think the inwinova are morons, Mr. Menfil?” Chloe asked, her eyes wide. “Thousands will die, but the rest will realize what’s happening and stop immersing.”

“I doubt that. For the launch of the Destroying Plague faction, we have temporarily blocked the catalysts. We’ll activate them once we have enough inwinova among the undead. A minimum of 60% of non-citizens affected at once will be sufficient. Then we blame it all on a new disease like the Doom virus. Say the virus spreads faster in the unsanitary conditions of the non-citizen zones, something like that. The citizens will start to panic, we isolate the cities, institute quarantines, massage the numbers and add a few ‘deaths’ among citizens… You don’t need me to tell you how the media can infect the masses with ideas.” Arto picked up a glass of water from a tray carried by a drone floating next to him and took a drink. Then he turned to Kiran: “Which leads me to a question: what is happening, Mr. Jackson? I have been tracking the numbers of the undead, and they are growing, but mostly thanks to citizens. Where are the non-citizens?”

Kiran swore mentally. They’d finally reached the subject they were all gathered here for, but Menfil represented a danger. He couldn’t allow them to find out that Kiran was responsible for what had happened, since it was his job to nip the problem of Scyth in the bud.

“The inwinova have no mechanism to choose their race,” he admitted unwillingly. “Their characters have the same appearance as they do, and that means their race is the same too — they’re all human. When the dark races were unlocked, this became a problem of sorts — human miners don’t exactly fit in with the decor on Shad’Erung.”

“I don’t give a damn about that!” Arto shouted. “Don’t try to wriggle out of it, Jackson. Answer the question!”

Darkening, Kiran took in a lungful of air and continued stolidly:

“We planned to use the legates of the Destroying Plague to forcibly conscript non-citizens by infecting workers. Part of the gameplay, as it were.”

“NPC legates, right?”

“That was the plan. The leaders of the cult of Morena were supposed to become legates. The followers of the goddess of death have a built-in synergy with the undead race. They would have quickly reached level 1000 and higher. But the world-renowned Alex Sheppard, the class-A Threat, failed to turn them undead and ruined our plan. The AI controlling the Supreme Legate at the time, the lich Shazz, could have fixed the situation by turning some high-level NPC characters from among Nergal and Marduk’s high priests, but he died in the Lakharian Desert.”

“Was

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