"I don't know, Daddy. Some of that stuff sounds kind of fun."
"Becky, I love you like crazy, but I'm not peeing on you."
"Ew, not that! I'm talking about the SoapLand stuff. It sounds kind of fun washing you down with only my tits."
That certainly had sounded interesting, though he couldn't imagine how that would work in a western bathroom. The bathrooms here were only bathtubs and showers, but apparently in Japan it had a sitting area where people washed up and rinsed off before ever getting into the tub. Probably more sanitary than just directly climbing into a bath.
"Aren't you kind of spoiling the surprise by sitting here, Daddy?" Becky asked, snuggling deeper into his embrace. "Won't it be more fun finding out what they have in store for you afterwards?"
"I guess that's true," Josh conceded, already thinking about what else they needed to do. "I could help Maria with scouting out some locations. I haven't had a chance to finish Slut Three's training either. Oh, I should go buy something nice for Mikaela's dinner. Probably get something art related for her mom, too."
"No, Daddy. No work, you do enough of that already. Do something fun."
Becky squeaked as he squeezed her tight buns through her shorts. "Something like this?"
"I mean it, Daddy," she pouted, though she did continue to press her butt into his hand. "Go have some fun. Don't you have any hobbies? You always dote on us and do what we want to do, but you never do something that's just for you. Come on. What would you like to do?"
That was a good question. What was there to do? So much of his time was spent with the girls that he couldn't even recall what he used to do for fun.
Maybe ice hockey? Hadn't done that in a while, but then he'd need to find a group of people to play with and then coordinate games, and that was just another drain on his time.
Video games? Meh. Maybe he was just aging out of the target demographic, but everything seemed like it was competitive shooters or social deduction games. Either way, that required playing with other people, and folks took things way too seriously these days.
"Nothing, Daddy?" Becky asked, laying her head on his lap and looking up at him. "Racing? Go karts? Pool? Guns?"
Woah, that brought with it a wave of nostalgia.
"Oh? Were you a gun nut, Daddy?"
He could feel a smile beginning to tug at his lips. "No, not guns."
###
The acrid smell of cleaning solution and gunpowder was thick in the air as Josh opened the heavy door, his eyes twinkling at what lay before him. How they managed to replicate that smell without any live ammunition was beyond him, but it set the mood nicely.
Neatly arranged aisles brimming with equipment lined the cavernous room, signs overhead guiding shoppers to the newest line ups of high-end airsoft rifles, body armor, camo gear, and anything else a professional player could possibly want. Glass counters lined one side of the store, gleaming models of anything from handguns to shotguns to rifles and machine guns mounted enticingly on the walls or filling the cases. Staff members busied themselves with lines of customers, all carrying their purchases gleefully, while fully decked out players filtered into the arena in the back.
This had been a good idea. As much as he loved spending time with the girls, they were right, he needed to unwind on his own too. He hadn't been able to play since he'd lost his job, and he had dearly missed his favorite hobby. He'd even had to pawn off his VSR-10 replica, his all-time favorite rifle, just to eat.
A grimace crossed his face.
Those had been bad times.
But those days were behind him. He was back, and he was going to enjoy his time here.
Stepping around several shoppers, Josh headed down the armor aisle to check out the newest lines. He passed by some of the more dated pieces, those that he'd been told by some of his buddies weren't even good replicas of the real thing, to the newest lineup. His eyes lit up at the tactical gear, his hands running over the woven material. It looked just like the video games and was surprisingly heavy. It might actually stop a real bullet. Not that he ever wanted to test that out.
"Oh, good eye. I used to wear armor like that in the army. Tacticon does a good job modeling it after the real thing, even down to the additional plates for realism." A man in army fatigues and a name plate stepped beside Josh and tapped the ballistic vest he was holding. "Though, I wouldn't try standing in front of a bullet, even if it does feel like you could tank a round," he added with a wry grin.
"Yeah, I heard from some of my old pals that this was the lineup to try," Josh said, shaking the proffered hand. "I'm Josh, been out of the game for quite a while."
"TJ," he replied with a firm shake. "I used to play all the time before I joined up. You'd be surprised at how applicable some of the tactics you learn out there are to real firefights. Hell, I used to have an M3 shotgun replica that was the same as the real thing, save for the orange tip."
"Does anyone still leave those on?" Josh asked with a chuckle. "We always used to pull them off after buying them."
"Well, you know, legally I have to say that you aren't allowed to do that," TJ said seriously, glancing over his shoulder before leaning in with a hushed tone. "But, yeah, used to peel them off myself back in the day."
"Don't know any serious player that ever kept them on. Hey, you got any VSR-10's or SIG SMG's?"
TJ's eyes lit up. "Oh, my friend, I got the newest models to show you, fresh off the truck."
Josh followed TJ as he led him toward the show cases, unable to shake a weird sense of déjà vu. Maybe it was just being back in the thick of things, surrounded by people who loved the game as he did, but it still nagged at him. Those thoughts quickly fled though, when he laid eyes on the mottled blue and black figure of sleek sniper rifle. Where the old VSR-10 gave the impression of a WWII sniper rifle, this one looked more predatory, like something you could use at mid-range and long. The frame itself was thicker and more durable, looking almost like a heavy shotgun. The rails on the top were sleeker too, able to mount just about any kind of scope.
"Good eye there, Josh," TJ said as he opened the case. "This here is a VSR ONE, updated design by Tokyo Marui, that I personally love. Also always reminded me of an Imperial Blaster, but that's just the nerd in me talking."
Josh gingerly took the surprisingly heavy rifle, pressing the stock against his shoulder and aiming it at the ground.
"Fits nice," Josh said, adjusting his shoulder and taking a few steps while slowly scanning the floor with the rifle. "Moves nicely for being so heavy."
"Alloyed steel, balanced nicely in the center. Solid power on it with barely a drop at 200 feet. With good wind, you could bullseye someone at 300 feet, no problem". TJ pulled out a separate box, laying out the contents. "And check this out," he said, holding up a realistic shell casing. "You can load these babies with rounds and actually eject them, if you're looking for the authentic feel. Hell, with a few simple mods, you can make it sound like the real thing too."
Josh raised an eyebrow, looking doubtfully at the collection of small attachments. Sure, technology had changed a lot since he'd last played, but surely not to that level.
TJ laughed at the expression. "I know, I know, seems hard to believe, but you should try it out. We don't have this model for rent in the back, but we have some modded assault rifles that you can try out. My hand to God, you'd never know they were toys."
"Well... this I need to see for myself," Josh said, eyeing the back room.
###
Josh breathed hard, that familiar thrill of the game coursing through him once more, fog occasionally obscuring his view as it clouded his mask. The rented equipment fit snuggly, hardly hampering him as he crossed the grounds, staying low to the ground. The mask wasn't his preferred style, not enough air circulation to keep his visor clear, but it was better to be safe than take a pellet to the face.
Josh winced at the memory of once having to pluck a round from his cheek. It had barely broken the skin and hadn't even really hurt, but the haunting image of squeezing it out in front of the mirror in the bathroom with a gush of blood was more than enough to remind him to stay safe.
Remaining low, he crept along the wall, staying just under the windows as he and his group moved quietly through the field. This one was open air, just outside the store, built to look like an urban combat zone. The buildings were no more than a floor tall, designed to break up eye lines and give players the chance to breach and clear rooms. There wasn't any glass in the windows, so players could vault over and fire through them, and the doors were barely more than plywood, but it all felt real.
Gunfire barked to the north where the other squad had gone. These new guns were awesome, having been fitted out with the newest realism modifications, they sounded like the real thing. It wasn't the soft 'pft' of gas propelled pellets, no, this was the actual crack of a round exploding from a chamber. The MP4 SMG replica felt good in his hands. Weighty. Like he was actually holding a gun.
