It’s dusk, and bugs are chirping all around me. I’m wandering through the middle of a big, virtual swamp toward the sound of thumping bass off in the distance. There isn’t much else nearby — some trees, a couple of other players. It’s mostly just me and the sound emanating from a large wooden structure strung up with lights sitting farther out into the swamp.
When I finally arrive, it rises above me: the official clubhouse of the Bored Ape Yacht Club. I make for the door to head…
