The Bank informs me I can buy stuff directly from my tablet from now on, instead of having to interact with the robots. I wonder if they can talk among themselves if they have rich conversation in robotic frequencies I can't hear. That’s why the cars I’ve seen so far are able to cross the blue barrier: it only blocks organic matter. Perhaps I am outside society, now, not a human anymore but a number. Perhaps they can’t talk to me, the Prisoner Of The Bank. Any attempt at socialization is met by a blank stare. Reaching the place marked on my map, I am immediately greeted with a wonderful vision: people! I descend among them, but the crowd parts like the Red Sea. I am not even sure The Bank is run by humans, at this point. Behind a wall of rocks, I come face to face with the limits of my new reality.Ī force field. Best to stay alone than to find yourself surrounded by artificial animals, life-sized figurines out of a nativity scene.ĭo androids dream of electric sheep? And if so, am I to become their herder?Īs distraction creeps in, I lose sight of the track and take a wrong turn on the road. A part of me wishes to fill the empty barns with chickens and pigs the other part already dreads the prospect of a trauma. The Bank orders me to drive to a shop and acquire new farming equipment.Īs I travel the countryside, I idly wonder if I'll ever be allowed to buy animals.
The music is cheery, yet rings hollow to my ears. The vehicle’s radio keeps me company during the journey. After more tedious fiddling with bouncy vehicles that have to be aligned, I manage to put the crops in a trailer and drive towards the selling point. And they admit it so casually, because my situation is already so painfully clear. An eyeblink later, I receive a new mail:ĭrones. The idea of writing HELP on the field crosses my mind. I scar the field with a jumble of messed cuts, wheat falling everywhere. I wanted to cut the wheat in an orderly way, but every U-turn brings me on the opposite side of the field. Patience is the first trait of a Good Farmer, and one I have yet to acquire: the container takes forever to fill, and I find the bouncy vehicle is difficult to manoeuvre. All I did was press some buttons in the right sequence, but the process looks complicated. I have to press some buttons in the right order first, to move the header in the right position and turn it on.Īs the moving parts clank and stutter, I feel a little pride surge in my chest. Only the tractor I’m driving feels real enough, the detailed mechanical parts glinting in the sunlight. I can’t shake the feeling of being inside an amusement park, every detail realistic and yet slightly wrong: rocks made of foam, trees with leaves of cloth, and a bouncy, fake terrain made of rubber. It’s a fiddly operation: tractor and header need to be perfectly aligned first, but the smallest flick of the steering wheel is enough to make my vehicle bounce. To reap the wheat, I have to attach a header to my tractor. Who put them there? And wouldn’t be more efficient to focus on sapphire hunting instead of farming? A new mail gleefully informs me that I just found a sapphire, and finding them all will reward me with a fabulous sum - enough to repay two-thirds of my debt. There’s a lot to do, but every button I have to press is clearly labelled.Īs I stumble around, familiarizing myself with the farm, I find a bluish rock between a palisade.
#Pure farming 18 vehicles full#
I now have a map full of icons, a to-do list, clear objectives and no strict deadlines.
My overlords are benevolent, at least: instructions are simple and ever-accessible, and I never feel confused or lost. Worryingly enough, the mail address from which the instructions are sent is the same as The Bank.
I feel like I’m not being advised, but trained. I have just unpacked my clothes and already mails are coming, clogging my tablet with an endless stream of instructions: walk out of the house, locate the granary, get in the tractor. But once I reached my destination, Pure Farming 2018's harsh truth was revealed to me: grandpa’s farm was riddled with debts. It spoke of an alternative from the daily grind of the city life, of charming adventures, of hard work rewarded and of peace of mind.Īn abandoned farm just for me! As I packed my luggage, I was already dreaming of quirky neighbours, magic sprites and turnips. The letter from my late grandfather which arrived at my desk spoke of freedom.