Chris's first reaction was panicked denial. This is a bug, his mind screamed, in anattempt to find a logical explanation that didn't involve him being the single most destructive force in the history of Buckhannon politics. It has to be a bug. The Causal Analysis module is misinterpreting the data. It's a glitch. There's no way... no way my pizza order tanked a mayoral campaign.
He frantically re-ran the analysis, this time focusing on each disastrous event individually, treating the situation like a bug report, trying to isolate the flaw in the System's logic. He focused on the news article about Ralph Hardwick's gridlocked press conference.
[ANALYZE CAUSAL CHAIN]
The System patiently, and with indifference, returned the same, devastating result. A glowing blue line traced its way back from [Hardwick Campaign Failure] to [Public Meltdown Event] to [Gridlock: Main Street] to [Barr Vehicle Stall] to [Pete Woody Traffic Incident] and finally, to the glowing, accusatory source node: [User: Christopher Day].
"No," he whispered to the empty room. He tried again, this time targeting the article about Milla Slater's disastrous photo-op. The result was the same, a clear line of causality that started with his System manipulation of a bingo game.
He ran the analysis one last time on the #BigCheeseCrisis, his last hope fading with each glowing line that appeared. The chain was short, and led directly from Skip Jenkins's political ruin to his own, selfish, and wonderfully delicious pepperoni pizza.
The System wasn't bugged. The System was just telling him the truth.
His phone buzzed on the desk, a sudden, jarring sound that made him jump. It was a text from Jessica.
[Jessica Lange]: OMG DID YOU SEE THE NEWS??? THIS IS INSANE! ALL THREE OF THEM ARE TOAST.
He stared at her message, at the cheerful, excited all-caps. She thought this was a good thing. She thought this was a victory. He felt a wave of nausea.
His mind, unable to deny the evidence, shifted. Okay, okay, so maybe I did cause it, he thought, his mind racing, trying to reframe the narrative in his mind. But it's not my fault their campaigns were so fragile! If Ralph Hardwick can't handle a little traffic, how can he handle the town budget? If Milla Slater is going to have a public meltdown because she's not the center of attention for five minutes, she's not fit to be mayor! And if Skip Jenkins's entire political platform can be derailed by a few anchovy pizzas, then his platform wasn't very strong to begin with!
He was a force of nature. An agent of chaos. He was a walking, talking public service.
The System, in its dry, literal, and unimpressed way, seemed to counter his frantic rationalization with a new, unsolicited notification.
[System Note: User's actions were the primary catalyst in a 94% reduction of candidate viability for all non-User-affiliated campaigns. Analysis indicates a 99.7% probability that all three candidates would have remained viable, if unpopular, without User's direct or indirect intervention.]
The cold, hard percentages were a statistical refutation of his narrative. He hadn't just exposed their weaknesses; he had systematically and with a slightly terrifying efficiency, annihilated their campaigns.
A new idea struck him. If he couldn't deny his role, and he couldn't rationalize it, maybe, just maybe, he could reverse the damage. He could use his powers to fix the candidate he had broken the least. Ralph Hardwick was an angry hypocrite, but he was at least an experienced one. Maybe he could salvage him.
He got on Discord, seeing Richard was online. He needed advice, cloaked in the deniable language of their shared hobby.
[Chris]: Hey, so the devs for my ARG have introduced a weird faction rep system, and I've accidentally tanked the reputation of all the major NPC leaders. Is there any way to recover that?
Richard's reply was almost instantaneous.
[Richard]: Dude, once an NPC's rep is in the toilet, it's almost impossible to recover without a specific, high-level, story-gated quest item. You're probably screwed. The players are just going to meme on them forever now. Best you can do is prop one of them up and hope for the best.
Propping one of them up. That was the plan. Chris decided to try and use a [Nudge] to help Hardwick give a brilliant, inspiring, campaign-saving speech at an upcoming town hall. Before he wasted the considerable EP on such a long-shot, he decided to run a [Probable Outcome] analysis on the plan.
The System returned a devastatingly clinical result.
[Probable Outcome (99.8% Chance): Action will fail. Subject's [Public Approval] stat is too low for a charisma-based recovery. A sudden, uncharacteristic display of competence and inspiration from the subject may be perceived by the local populace as 'inauthentic' and could cause further stat loss due to perceived hypocrisy.]
The System was telling him it was too late. Richard's logic was correct. The damage was done. Trying to fix it now would only make it worse.
His final plan was simple: quit. If he couldn't fix the other candidates, he had to get himself, or at least his blurry, deer-faced avatar, out of the race.
He began to search online, his fingers flying across the keyboard. "how to withdraw a candidate from a local election in West Virginia." "can a third party withdraw a candidate for you." "help my anonymous internet persona is accidentally running for mayor." He even texted Jessica, phrasing it as another "logic puzzle."
[Chris Day]: Hey, another weird ARG logic puzzle for you. If a player guild registers a character for a server-wide event without the character's knowledge, can the character un-register themselves?
[Jessica Lange]: That's a weird rule. Probably not, if the registration was done by a valid guild leader. The character would be bound by the guild's action. The guild leader would have to be the one to withdraw them. Sounds like a crappy game design, tbh.
His search results discovered a horrifying, bureaucratic truth. Since "Bucky Watcher" had been officially registered as a write-in candidate by a third party (the vengeful Denise Radclyffe), and he, Christopher Day, had no legal, documented connection to the name, he had no legal authority to remove it from the ballot. His anonymity, which had once been his shield, had now become the bars of his cage. He was a political candidate with no legal identity, and therefore, no legal ability to quit.
Just as he was processing this Kafkaesque level of entrapment, a news alert from the Buckhannon Record Delta appeared on his phone. The headline felt like a punch to the gut.
"FINAL WEEK POLL: 'Bucky Watcher' Commands Unbeatable Lead in Mayoral Race."
With a trembling hand, he clicked the link.
The article displayed a professional-looking poll graphic, a colorful pie chart that was a death sentence to his quiet, reclusive life. The numbers were a statistical confirmation of his worst fears.
Bucky Watcher: 75% Ralph Hardwick: 8% Milla Slater: 6% Skip Jenkins: 5% Undecided: 6%
He had accidentally created a political juggernaut, a deer-faced majority. He was no longer just a protest vote; he was the presumptive, and apparently, overwhelmingly popular, mayor-elect.
The forum was already celebrating.
[Brenda G.]: "I'm just so proud of our little town! We're rejecting the old ways and embracing a new, sensible kind of leadership. I'm already planning the menu for the Bucky Watcher Inauguration Ball! Venison, of course!"
[Gary L.]: "FINALLY, A POLITICIAN WHO WILL ACTUALLY REPRESENT THE DEER POPULATION OF THIS COUNTY. IT'S ABOUT TIME. THEIR CONCERNS ABOUT OVERHUNTING HAVE BEEN IGNORED FOR TOO LONG."
His phone buzzed again. It was Jessica.
[Jessica Lange]: DUDE. 75%??? YOU'RE GOING TO WIN. THIS IS THE FUNNIEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN.
He stared at the poll, at the celebratory texts from his friend, at the forum posts. The convergence of all this "positive" reinforcement for a situation he was terrified of was...
He was trapped. He was celebrated. He was completely doomed. Election Day was one week away.
And he was going to win.