conversations.from: human
conversations.value: a description for a book titled Warcross about Emika, Warcross, UpA with the genre: Teen & Young Adult, Literature & Fiction
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Gr 8 UpA highly engaging and incredibly exciting science fiction novel for young adults. Emika Chen is a bounty hunter living in a futuristic New York City. Emika has a juvenile record and spent time in the foster care system after her father died. She is struggling to pay her bills, and is banking on getting enough from the next bounty to settle up with her landlord. In the midst of her troubles, Emika gets involved in Warcross, a virtual reality video game played by nearly everyone. Players put on virtual reality glasses and can play others, build their own worlds, and keep memories there. There is a huge tournament where the best players from around the globe come together as teams to compete for the ultimate prize. When Emika tries stealing a valuable item in the opening ceremony, she glitches into the game and finds immediate fame. With this fame comes a job offer from the young Hideo Tanaka, creator of Warcross. He flies her to Japan on his private jet, and he asks for her help to find someone who is threatening the game. Emika is also a skilled hacker, so she accepts. The teen becomes a key player in the tournament and in Hideo's life, as they develop a romantic relationship. Readers will move effortlessly through the author's fantastic writing, and they will enjoy getting to know this international cast of characters. The author adeptly weaves together exciting video games scenes, virtual reality, and romance. The great plot twist and cliff-hanger ending clearly leaves room for a sequel. VERDICT An enticing first purchase for YA collections, especially where the author's other books and science fiction are popular.Nancy Jo Lambert, Reedy High School, Frisco, TX
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the first five paragraphs for this book
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Warcross
  Down in the atrium, Roshan is activating blackout shields on the floor-to-ceiling windows in an attempt to keep journalists out—but I can still hear the photographers clicking madly away, the flashes of their cameras reflecting off the glass. Before the windows go completely dark, I catch a glimpse of the main courtyard leading out to the security gate. A mob of paparazzi have crowded there, some of them pushing past the security. Two guards chase down a reporter and cameraman sprinting toward our dorms. It's a feeding frenzy.
  Roshan temporarily looks away from the outside crowds to focus on me. His usually gentle expression has been replaced with one of suspicion. Asher regards me with a scowl. I sit down on the couches with Hammie, trying to avoid Ren's stare—but even then, I can feel his smugness directed at me.
  I scowl at her. "What's going on between Hideo and me has nothing to do with how I feel about you and the team."
  Asher shoots me a hard look. "It has everything to do with us. We just got into the final championship round, but now people think we won unfairly—they think Hideo's favoritism for you made the judges hand the win over to the Phoenix Riders."
  I hadn't planned my outburst correctly, and I regret some of it right away. Hammie looks incredulous. Then, skeptical. Nearby, Ren regards me curiously. He's daring me to say more.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: five more paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The auction is almost done, having narrowed to two users, but this time I stand by as an onlooker, watching behind the security bots as the price continues to climb. Eventually, it tapers off, stuck on nearly a million notes as one of the users hesitates.
  The winning bidder is a tall man wearing a plaid coat. As he pockets the power-up and turns away, I edge my way closer without drawing the attention of the security bots. In real life, I'm typing furiously, trying to find a moment when the man is alone and vulnerable. The security bots continue their randomized rotations; some of the assets being used to guard this auction now drift off to patrol another one that has just started.
  At last, I see my window—a gap where two security bots have turned away and left a narrow, clear path to the man. I head toward him, increasing my pace as I draw closer. Then, right as he's about to turn around, I lunge forward and grab for his suitcase.
  An ordinary avatar wouldn't have nearly the strength to do such a thing. But I've built up years of code on my avatar, programming myself for just this kind of grab. So when my hand closes on his suitcase's handle, I twist hard—and the suitcase comes away in my grasp.
  The man's no fool, though. No one who spends a million notes on a power-up can be. Instantly, two other avatars near us whirl on me. He has hidden security of his own here. I twirl barely out of their reach before I make a beeline for the exit. If I can get back inside the black tunnel, where the security bots can't go, I can make it out of here with my items intact.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Reverse the sentences.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: If I can get back inside the black tunnel, where the security bots can't go, I can make it out of here with my items intact.. I twirl barely out of their reach before I make a beeline for the exit. He has hidden security of his own here. Instantly, two other avatars near us whirl on me. No one who spends a million notes on a power-up can be.
  The man's no fool, though. So when my hand closes on his suitcase's handle, I twist hard—and the suitcase comes away in my grasp. But I've built up years of code on my avatar, programming myself for just this kind of grab.
  An ordinary avatar wouldn't have nearly the strength to do such a thing. Then, right as he's about to turn around, I lunge forward and grab for his suitcase. I head toward him, increasing my pace as I draw closer.
  At last, I see my window—a gap where two security bots have turned away and left a narrow, clear path to the man. The security bots continue their randomized rotations; some of the assets being used to guard this auction now drift off to patrol another one that has just started. In real life, I'm typing furiously, trying to find a moment when the man is alone and vulnerable. As he pockets the power-up and turns away, I edge my way closer without drawing the attention of the security bots.
  The winning bidder is a tall man wearing a plaid coat. Eventually, it tapers off, stuck on nearly a million notes as one of the users hesitates.The auction is almost done, having narrowed to two users, but this time I stand by as an onlooker, watching behind the security bots as the price continues to climb
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the last five paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He nods. "I think I crossed paths with him when I was down under. He was sitting up with the avatars watching the assassination lottery. If we work together, we can probably track our way to him, and he can help us. We're some of the only people in the world who both understand the inner workings of and also worked for Hideo at the same time."
  Zero's message echoes in my thoughts. I turn away again and nod. "Then we'll go into the Dark World. We'll find a way to contact him. We can figure out a solution to this."
  I think of Hideo's intense gaze, his single-minded genius. I think of how he'd leaned his head weakly against me and whispered my name. I think of the way he looked up to the stars, searching for a way to move forward from his past. I think of the final words we'd exchanged. Then I think of Zero's surprised voice, his anger as he faced me in the final game, the way he'd stolen my Memories. The way he'd returned them.
  Tremaine offers me his hand, and after a while, I take it, letting him help me up. Then we continue to stand there, unmoving, looking out at the electric glitter of Tokyo, my boots pointed away from the house and toward the city, my heart suspended somewhere between one choice and another, unsure where to go next.
  To my mom, who is absolutely nothing like Emika's mom: Emika's resilience, fire, and brain are completely based on you. You are the most capable, selfless, and inspiring person I know. (Hideo's cooking skills are also based on yours. Obviously.)
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He nods. "I think I crossed paths with him when I was down under. He was sitting up with the avatars watching the assassination lottery. If we work together, we can probably track our way to him, and he can help us. We're some of the only people in the world who both understand the inner workings of and also worked for Hideo at the same time."
  Zero's message echoes in my thoughts. I turn away again and nod. "Then we'll go into the Dark World. We'll find a way to contact him. We can figure out a solution to this."
  I think of Hideo's intense gaze, his single-minded genius. I think of how he'd leaned his head weakly against me and whispered my name. I think of the way he looked up to the stars, searching for a way to move forward from his past. I think of the final words we'd exchanged. Then I think of Zero's surprised voice, his anger as he faced me in the final game, the way he'd stolen my Memories. The way he'd returned them.
  Tremaine offers me his hand, and after a while, I take it, letting him help me up. Then we continue to stand there, unmoving, looking out at the electric glitter of Tokyo, my boots pointed away from the house and toward the city, my heart suspended somewhere between one choice and another, unsure where to go next.
  To my mom, who is absolutely nothing like Emika's mom: Emika's resilience, fire, and brain are completely based on you. You are the most capable, selfless, and inspiring person I know. (Hideo's cooking skills are also based on yours. Obviously.