There were no further scenes for him to shoot for the day. And by the time the day wrapped, he was transported to a hotel near the studio - "Woodside Hotel" was its name. From what he could tell, half the guests of this entire hotel were probably guests like him.
Clean room, good lighting, big, clean bed. Nothing to complain about. Wu Xiaoming texted his father and his agent to tell them he was doing fine and at a hotel before heading over to the restaurant for food.
He could either order food, or just enjoy a buffet. He chose the buffet. The food was not bad, really. They had roast beef, some sushi, salad, and two empty, steaming trays marked with "lobster" and "snow crab".
"Glad it went well!" Douglass Kirkland responded just when Wu Xiaoming sat down with a full plate: "I know that hotel. Don't choose the buffet, they use old crabs and frozen lobsters. Order something from the 'Chef Specialty'."
Wu Xiaoming pushed the crab legs in his plate to the side but decided to keep the lobster tail: "Too bad, I already got the buffet."
"Never choose the buffet." Douglass Kirkland responded with a "face palm" emoji: "I thought you knew?"
Shortly, he followed with another text: "I just chatted with the director's people. They said you did make a good impression, and if possible they will consider you for further cameos. I asked them if there's a possibility for a full on side character, they said they'll consider it if the reception's good. So, you did good. Keep at it."
"Thanks." Wu Xiaoming responded.
His father texted back: "Glad to hear it went well! We're very happy to hear that. Do you know when they will wrap your shoot? PS: don't choose the buffet, they use old fish for sushi."
Wu Xiaoming spit out the half chewed sushi and rinsed his mouth with soda. No wonder the salmon tasted a bit funny. If he would come back tomorrow, he would definitely order directly.
Walking past a group of actors and actresses excitedly discussing their project with loud voices, Wu Xiaoming went back into his room. A small package was on his desk. He opened it up, it was his clothes, including underwear from his own wardrobe. Courtesy of his father and/or agent, no doubt. There was no note in the box though, so he had no idea who to thank.
After a long, comfortable shower, he laid down on his bed, debating with himself whether he should sleep early. There was another problem - he needed to wake up at 7 o'clock in the morning, if he got stuck and did not want to simply die, he might take too long to wake up. For his mental wellness, it would probably be wise to not explore too much.
He had not been to this area, so he had no idea how the respective ethereal realm would be like. So far, all the places he had been to were relatively tame and safe, even the hospital where in theory people would die every day. There was no telling what this place would be like, though.
Eventually he fell asleep, after watching around one hour of trash TV on the bed, dressed in a comfortable bath robe.
"Ugh!" Some kind of heavy "debuff" was placed on him the moment he woke up. His body was heavier than before, and there was a nauseating feeling stuck in his throat and stomach. Before he could look around or do anything, two faint shadowy figures were already lunging at him from the ceiling and a corner of the room.
It was not his first time being ambushed right when and where he "spawned", so he just rolled on the ground and retaliated with a single word: "Attack!" An energy blast struck the shadow coming from the ceiling right on its face, exploding its body made of smoke and smog into smithereens.
Without checking on how many Spirit Fragments he just earned, he threw a fist right into the other shadow's face. This was the shadow of a desperate looking man, with a completely charred face crawling with cracks glowing in bright orange, as if his entire face was made of freshly solidified lava. This fist strike landed true on the shadow's nose, caving its face in, then proceeding to break and shatter its entire head. Yet at the same time, the shadow's hands still continued on its trajectory and clawed at Wu Xiaoming's shoulders.
"Shield!" Wu Xiaoming yelled.
A thin layer of energy armor manifested and fully covered his entire body like a layer of soap coating. The charred fingers penetrated the energy armor and his clothes, leaving several thin scratches on his skin.
"Sheesh." Wu Xiaoming yelped. The scratches itched, burned and tingled, as if the shadow's fingernails were laced with poison, or simply something spicy. "Heal." He tried, but nothing happened. He stood up, thought for a brief moment, then said to his own body: "Dispel." Still, nothing happened.
Though, to his relief, after waiting in the ethereal realm equivalent of his room for a brief moment, the feeling faded and the wounds closed up. Pretty impressive speed of recovery, or insignificant, depending on how one looked at it.
Now he was just a small block of experience bar away from reaching level 5. Though it might not help him at all, for he still only had access to the Confucianist Tree, where further skills either require another 2 skill points, or a whopping 5.
"Sword of Scholar: Grants Sword Skills." This was a branch off the "Scholar" skill. It required 2 skill points, and in the game, it would grant the character some combo sword attack moves the player could mix and match into their attack chain, instead of simply using basic sword attacks. Should Wu Xiaoming unlock it here, it would probably give him some basic knowledge of the martial art this skill was based on. The company did not spare any expense when it came to hiring actual martial artists to do motion capture and movement design.
"Expert: increase the effectiveness of your aura, engraving, written word and symbol skills/items, increase experience gained, grant aura skill: Righteous Aura." This was the next skill on the Confucianist Tree, costing 5 skill points. The Righteous Aura was designed to be an offensive debuff against surrounding evil spirits, demons, other evil creatures and practitioners of evil crafts, slowing their movement, lowering their attack and defenses. Its effect was based on a calculation between the player character's level and the enemy levels. In Wu Xiaoming's own play tests, it was sort of a skill that would be more useful when the player character reached higher levels.
Hopefully there would be other benefits to him when leveling up, even if he did not have enough skill points to unlock new skills. Otherwise it would be a detriment, for it would cost him more Spirit Fragments to exit the dream.
Current currencies owned: 2531 Spirit Fragments, 45 Vision Slivers.
The two shadows dropped slightly more Spirit Fragments than the other evil spirits he encountered before, a total of 200, alas no Vision Slivers.
The hotel room was mostly just like what he expected: only the room, no furniture. The decorative paintings hung on the walls did not show up. He even looked into the vent above the bathroom, there was nothing he could find to use as a weapon.
He looked out the window, and the first thing he saw shot a paralyzing chill through his entire body.
It was a giant wall of stilled black fog, unmoving, barely transparent enough for him to see the buildings enclosed by it. It was far, but still close enough for him to sense the terrible energy radiating from it.
It was in the direction of the studio, or to be precise, it was the direction of the older studios and office buildings of Worldly Entertainment Corp.
"Higher level maps." Wu Xiaoming scoffed at himself, not only for the ridiculous state he was in, but also his lack of power and guts to venture deeper into the world.
He took a deep breath before he opened the door to his room.