Read Start the Game (Galactogon: Book #1) for Free Online

absolutely be on board with his whole secrecy thing. A hundred thousand dollars is a very big sum, after all…Luckily for you, Serge smashed up my fleet last year, so…I’m not about to give you anything for free and I’d agree that the starting sector isn’t quite the place to look for hidden goodies. Heck, I’d even say that there aren’t goodies there at all—so the best I can do is give you our own in-house guide for how to level up your ship from F-class to C-class as quickly as possible. My goons use it all the time. Anything higher than C-class, you’ll have to do yourself. What do you say?”
    “The starting sector plus ship leveling?” I clarified, understanding perfectly well that this was better than nothing. The forums were bursting with a plethora of guides for leveling up, but the more I read, the less I believed that I would find anything acceptable. Even never having played Galactogon , I understood that they were a waste of time.
    “Yup. And as a bonus, I won’t be telling anyone that I sold anything to anyone. Especially what that second anyone may look like in real life. My friendly advice to you is, if you talk to other guild leaders, use an image scrambler.”
    “Give me your account info.” I had had enough time to make up my mind. I can’t say that I was much swayed by the beard’s words, but when there are a billion pounds on the line…Well, that’s a reason to give it a shot.
    “Already sent. As soon as I get the money, I’ll send you the guide you wanted. I’ve already got it ready. And—good luck to you! Who knows—maybe our paths will cross. Let me know as soon as you get a D-class ship. I’ll send you an invite to my guild. No entrance exams or anything.”
    “Why such largess?” I asked surprised. As I had already managed to find out, guilds in Galactogon meant everything—home, family, money, resources, etc. The guild leaders and their officers were very careful when welcoming newcomers to their banners, seeking to weed out leeches and those who liked to dig around in others’ coffers. A player gave quite a bit to his guild, but the guild itself did plenty for him in return too.
    “Anyone who manages to get a ship to D-class without investing a single coin, even with the help of our guide, is already worth a closer look,” smirked the beard. “When you get the Workaholic Achievement—that’s the one that’ll show you’ve made it—I’ll be happy to see you among my ranks. Until then, excuse me but I have to run… End call.”
    “Stan—panic mode,” I uttered the code phrase that forced my smart home into emergency overdrive. Panic mode entailed the deletion of any online information that could lead someone back to my physical self. My name, my address, my description…I used to laugh about stuff like that, but then one day as I was coming home, I was rudely ambushed by a gang of imbeciles whom I had crossed in Runlustia . It seemed that they hadn’t liked the leading role I had played in a raid on their castle. I paid for that with fractured arms, legs, ribs and—as a result—having to relocate to a new apartment. That was when I set up the panic mode command. Better safe than sorry. If the beard was right, a billion pounds was a large enough sum of money to justify a visit to a competitor in real life. A visit during which you would make sure that your competitor wouldn’t want (or be able) to sign into the game for the next several years.
    Two hours later, I had refused two incoming video calls—truthfully pointing out that I was taking a bath. Like I had figured after my conversation with the leader of the Black Lightning, the representatives calling from the top two Qualian guilds quickly lost an interest in talking to me without having the opportunity to see (or record) what I looked like. Constantly citing internal guild regulations, they kept asking me when would be a better time to call me back and whether we could maybe simply meet in real