Finally, three hours later, a grin spread across my face. Raptor and Fang were back where they should have been, the drone was streaking through the sky connected to my helmet, and I could see a tolerably decent feed on my screen. I was back in the game. Yes, sans Ulbaron, but I was ready to slip it on as soon as I had the money to repair it. Almost as though it could sense my joy, my helmet screen flashed red — the danger settings were kicking in. Two players, Lurkan and Marlon, had entered the location. Even besides the common last name Po, they shared a level: 538. Two Tsarter fighters were there to hunt me down.
My first instinct was to kick the vehicle into high gear and head south. Three or four locations, and I would have been next to the noa plants — away from my problems, closer to my goal. But something stopped me. Tsarter was going to continue coming after me whether I wanted them to or not. All they knew in that moment was that I was somewhere in the location, and they needed time to get their bearings, organize, and begin the search. And only two of the five are here. Worth the risk?
The sticky, unpleasant grip of fear appeared in the depths of my stomach and began creeping higher as soon as I even thought about a showdown with the pair of monsters. I didn’t think for a second that Tsarter didn’t know about the trials, and that meant their levels were fixed. Coming after me were strong, agile, and most likely incredibly resilient opponents. It was scary just to think about what they’d had time to develop. Three hearts and ten brains? Nothing would have surprised me. But how was I supposed to take them on? The far simpler move was to make a break for it, hide, and spend the rest of my days in peace and quiet.
And that wasn’t a bad idea. A couple weeks previously, I probably would have done exactly that. But the only problem was that I had changed. No, I was no hero. In fact, I couldn’t stand those square-jawed characters who always have to run in first. Mark Derwin was just a student trying to save his sister — it was too late for me to save myself. And there was no way Squirrel could be safe while the game was around and populated with groups like Tsarter. Whether I wanted to or not, I was going to have to fight.
But we were going to fight on my terms. One thing death had taught me was that I was incredibly stealthy, and it was time to show off why the game had given me the class it did.
Checking my map, I ran off through the forest. The new orc base was ten kilometers away. I was sure the Tsarter pair would head there first to get everyone involved in the search, so I had to be there before they arrived.
The orcs had set up camp in the forest next to a cache looking like a leafy oak. I’d already seen one of those in Olsen’s location. Having set their tents up around the tree, the aliens were just going about their business — practicing, repairing, chatting, sitting in small groups. The tranquility in the camp unnerved me, in fact. Nobody was running around, nobody was pounding their bare chest, nobody was mourning their lost comrades. It was as if they didn’t know the ambush had been taken out. Was I really able to keep the whole thing a secret? I had a hard time believing that, which meant I needed to be careful.
The big boss stepped out of a tent and looked up at the sky. I followed his gaze, and a chill ran down my spine — two players were flying above the trees, coming in our direction. I recognized Ulbaron immediately, not to mention the modification that let them fly. It was hard to say one way or another about their weaponry, as they were still too far away, and I didn’t have binoculars yet. But I didn’t doubt they were equipped with Valkyrie, Swallow, or both and something else to go with them.
Raptor showed me their names. There was a blank where their coin balance should have been, however, and scanning them didn’t get me anything, ether. Their protection was too good. For the same reason, I could only tell they were both humanoid. Two legs, two arms, one head. That was it. Because of that, I just held back even when Lurkan flew within range of my device control. I was there to scout out the situation. No moves, yet.
“Is this everyone?” Marlon asked, looking around and foregoing a greeting. The player’s voice sounded strange. It was almost like an animal had learned to talk, something between a bark and a growl.
“We have seventy-two here; fourteen are out. Just like we were ordered, they set up an ambush,” the camp leader replied.
“They’re off nowhere waiting for the next release,” Lurkan barked. Just like the other player with the same last name, that one’s voice was also very odd.
The orc’s nostrils flared, and it screamed back angrily.
“Who?! Who did it?”
“Our sources say it was Mark Derwin.”
“Impossible! He isn’t on the ranking!”
“We’re losing time. Get everyone together, and we’ll explain what we’re going to do. Also, put together some food. And where can we wash up in this wilderness?”
“My tent is at your service,” the orc replied, even bowing to its distinguished guests. “Everything will be ready for your speech in thirty minutes.”
The arrivals ignored the last part and ducked into the enormous tent. A glimmering field immediately appeared around it as they set up additional protection. Yep, some serious characters right there.
“General assembly in the square! Twenty-five minutes! Meeting our guests!” The commander’s loud voice rang out across the base, and that’s when I jumped into action. There was a small even area of open ground right in the middle of the camp. The security equipment was there, too. I checked — nobody had deleted me from the white list, though I had to update the data to reflect that I was wearing a BRO-III suit instead of Ulbaron. Once again, nobody was checking for minor changes to their equipment. I grinned. Idiots!
As soon as I got to the nearest tent, I straightened up. Chaos reigned in the camp — everyone was running around in every direction. Some were dragging benches over (where did they get those in the middle of the forest?), some were throwing something like a rug down on the field (okay, benches, but that thing?), some were carrying over what clearly wasn’t the mush the game called food (they have their own cook!). Everyone was busy, nobody paying any attention to the extra player in what was actually simpler armor than what most of the others had. Their alarm system hadn’t gone off, after all. That meant I was supposed to be there regardless of the fact that I was a head taller than everyone else.
When hammers started pounding, I froze in surprise for a few seconds — the orcs were putting together something like a stage. A tent was primed to go up around it. Even the ground had been dug up to accommodate the spikes. Damn, so Lurkan and Marlon are so impressive they can’t even just have a normal conversation with regular players? By the organized way the orcs were moving around, I could tell that wasn’t their first rodeo. Good, that makes it simpler. Following the rest, I made my way onto the main square and grabbed a spare shovel. Its owner had run off to man a desk. I started digging for show as I looked around to study the general layout — I only had fifteen minutes. Five markers stood out around the stage that was going up, with another five around the benches. The rest were presumably ticketed for the perimeter. Someone might want to leave.
But my best-laid plans were very nearly spoiled. I stopped digging, ducked into the nearest empty tent, and started materializing mines. But as soon as the first one showed up, a terrifying message appeared on Raptor’s screen:
Unregistered item detected. Alarm system going off in 3… 2…
I broke out in a cold sweat. Happily, I was able to control my phone with my mind — my hands were shaking so hard I definitely wouldn’t have been able to toss the mine back into my storage. What a great infiltrator I am! Was it really so hard to remember that both players and their equipment need to be registered in the security system? I’d just added my armor, and I had no idea why I hadn’t thought about my mines. I really do take the cake sometimes.
It turned out simple enough to register each of the mines individually. I pulled the serial number for them from my phone and added them to the database, definitely aided by the fact that i
t wasn’t their first time there. All I really had to do was change their status from checked out to active in camp. Of course, registering the mines my reflection had bought took more doing. I had to add them from scratch, including the serial number, type, and activation time. It was only after I’d spent ten valuable minutes that the mines were ready to be used within the base. But there wasn’t much time left. I was going to have to hurry.
The orcs had settled down more or less. There was a logic to their movements, and a calm had come over the camp. The stage was ready. The tent overhead was, as well. A colorful rug had been spread over the stage, with a few dozen benches on it. Most of the fighters were already there ready to listen to the coming words of wisdom. There was even a small table crammed with food. Ten minutes before it starts. Let’s do this!
I joined the crew wrapping up work on the tent, casually grabbing a hammer and nails. The demolitions specialty told me exactly where I had to set the mines. All that was left was to pretend I was hammering something there. Once again, nobody paid me any attention, not even when I drove a couple nails right into the ground. It was easy enough to understand the orcs. The guy next to them was working confidently on something, and that presumably meant he had a job to do. Plus, the siren hadn’t gone off. There was nothing to worry about. I love these enclosed game costumes. Nobody can tell what race you are.
The benches took some doing. While the perimeter and stage were mined in just a couple minutes, I didn’t have long to work safely on the packed benches. I was actually about to give up on that idea when I found a way to make it happen: one of the rug edges had been pulled up. Someone had apparently been careless dragging a bench over. Whatever the case, it was a great reason for me to make my way right through the crowd.
“Where are you going?” one of the fighters barked, though I just pointed at the problem in reply. The orc nodded understandingly and continued in a more even voice. “Hurry up! We just have two minutes left.”
The nearby orcs mumbled something approvingly and stepped aside. Oh, come on! I was really going to have to crawl around straightening the damn carpet. Yes, I set the mines, though it was a challenge getting that done with a dozen eyes on my back.
“It’s the commander! Huddle up!” The thoughtful orcs even covered me with their bodies, making sure the boss didn’t see me. The level 177 orc walked busily around the stage, sniffed the food critically, and looked around appraisingly at the troops. I crawled away under the orcs’ cover. Nobody bothered me; actually, they stepped aside and quickly reformed when I was gone. The brotherhood of warriors.
“Places!” the commander barked, and the orcs all took their seats. I was long gone. From my calculations, the blast radius would be about a hundred meters, so I needed to put some distance between me and the camp. Of course, I had to leverage all the camouflage at my disposal to make sure nobody suspected anything.
“Once again, the best players in the hexagon have visited our camp,” the lead orc announced grandly. “And they need our help today! Mark Derwin is here and somehow managing to stay off the player list, so we need to find the bastard. And avenge our brothers! Welcome Lurkan and Marlon Po!”
The two Tsarter fighters made their way to the stage as the orcs cheered, and I could barely resist smacking a hand against my forehead. Seriously? What kind of circus is this? It sounded like some kind of local theater.
“We don’t have much time, so listen up,” Marlon started barking. “We’re going to split into two groups. One will go with me; the other will follow Lurkan. Using our scanners, we’ll — ”
But that’s when Marlon was interrupted. Their plans didn’t interest me in the slightest, so…
Boom!
The bright red splotch on Raptor’s screen, the one showing where all the players were, blinked and disappeared. A victor’s smile spread across my face, though it turned into a terrifying terrible grin just a couple moments later.
Not all the red dots were gone. The blast had mostly wiped them out, but Raptor as well as Flyer told me that two players had survived the Armageddon I’d triggered. Marlon and Lurkan Po. Damn, what are they? It was definitely time to run…
Chapter 7
RUN! Run as fast as I can! Run like I’ve never run before!
Only I wasn’t running away from the surviving players; I was running toward them. Valkyrie appeared in my palm, and as I leaped over yet another clod of soil, I saw my first opponent. It was Lurkan Po. The player had been thrown a good fifty meters to the side, its leg armor was shorn off, and there was green, bubbly, toad-like skin peeking through. Despite the explosion and short flight, the thing was already on its feet. Valkyrie was in its hand, and I watched it turn toward me. It wobbled, staggered, and grabbed hold of a spike that appeared out of nowhere, but it was standing. And I noticed all that in a split-second without forgetting to open fire. My pistol sprang into action, the blobs of pure energy smacking into my opponent’s helmet. At least, they smacked into it before disappearing harmlessly into the creature’s protective field.
What?!
There was apparently armor a level 13 named pistol couldn’t penetrate. How is that possible?! My opponent finally raised its Valkyrie, and fire burst out in my chest — my level five armor was useless. All I could do was press one more button before hitting the ground. There was an explosion, and Lurkan was sent flying once again.
Four chunks of energy punched right through me, my regeneration quickly kicking in. Just in case, I decided to help it out with another needle. And as the game got to work printing it out, I peeked out from behind my cover. Lurkan was standing up. Another grenade went flying, accompanied by a dozen shots. Still, they did nothing against the incredible protection. I started flipping through magazines, each time sending the other player flying and burying a dozen shots in it. Only the ice rounds did anything. Lurkan started moving slower — much slower, in fact.
Marlon was too far away, so I assumed it was recovering. Another grenade hit the pimply player’s chest. Ten ice rounds hit hard, and I jumped in to shoot from point-blank range. With plenty of magazines in reserve, I didn’t care about conserving ammo. Lurkan, in turn, was moving so slowly that I was able to dodge the return fire with ease, though I had to get in close. That entailed some risk — I didn’t know what other abilities the creature had. On the other hand, the proximity let me try something else.
You’re trying to connect to Lurkan Po’s armor.
Probability of successful hack: 1.25 %.
Attempt 32… Unsuccessful.
What kind of monster do you have to be to stick god-level protection on basic armor? Not only could I not shoot my way through the force field around Lurkan; I couldn’t even hack into it to turn the thing off. I was also starting to notice that my ice rounds were experiencing diminishing returns. In fact, I had to start using them every ten shots. Some kind of adaptation? How am I supposed to kill this thing then?!
Jumping away, I fired off another grenade and finally saw it yield some fruit — a few armor plates cracked on my opponent’s chest. Really? I’m wearing through it? It’s about time! In no time at all, the player was riddled with ten energy rounds as it tried to stand up. I didn’t even freeze it, already tasting victory.
They say you learn from your mistakes. If I survive this, I’m going to be smarter and never underestimate my opponents. Because instead of dropping down dead, the green-skinned beast leaped at me. Its head was shot through, but it still came at me. How?!
It felt like a battering ram had slammed into my chest. My regeneration still hadn’t finished work on the first wounds I’d received, so they just exploded with renewed intensity. I flew backward and watched as Lurkan jumped along with me. With absurd speed, it caught up and buried a fist in me. My head burst into a flurry of colorful stars, though Valkyrie kept right on shooting — I didn’t even have to think about it. My subconscious had already figured out that shooting the thing in the head was pointless. Instead, I focused on turning its chest
into a sieve. At least, that’s what I’d been planning on doing. But I watched in near-slow motion as the energy from my pistol poked holes in the remnants of Lurkan’s armor, cut through its body, and flew out the other side to dissolve in the air. But the deadly wounds disappeared along with the energy, not leaving so much as a trace. Lurkan regenerated on the fly like some damn Wolverine. Or is it Deadpool? The shock made me lose my concentration for a couple seconds. I hit the ground hard. Stars flashed again, my vision faded, and I felt my opponent crash on top of me, fists raining down. My protection was dropping quickly. Somehow, I turned my arm and fired off an ice round. Lurkan jerked and slowed, but it was able to react by tearing the pistol off its mount and tossing it aside. The fists went back to work. I was powerless. The thing was a death machine, and my skills were no match for it. My ears began to ring, my thoughts were jumbled, and I started losing control. Of course, there was a part of me that knew I had to fight back, though I had no idea how. I’d already tried everything I had, and it had done nothing.
Wait, I haven’t tried everything!
My arm was on fire and barely responding, though I had enough in me for one swing. And that was all I needed to activate Fang and bury it into one of the many holes in my opponent’s armor. Just then, another blow shattered my helmet. Lurkan reared back to finish what it had started, and I squeezed my eyes shut — there was nothing I could do to stop the coming finale. But the creature was in no hurry. A second ticked by. Then another. A third. Still, I was alive. Pulling my nerves together, I opened my eyes to see that the green-skinned beast was sitting on me, one arm pulled back, but unable to do anything else. It was as though it had lost control of its own body, turned to stone, and started to shiver ever so slightly. The skin around Fang had darkened and was starting to rot. And as I watched, the dark rot spread across the rest of the creature’s body, the holes in the armor giving me a first-row seat to the process. When the infection got to its uncovered legs, the sickening smell of decay washed through my nostrils. I found the strength to throw Lurkan off, but that just elicited a groan — my right arm was wrenched out of its socket. Fang stayed buried in the creature’s chest. Turning over myself, I rolled on top of it. There was a crunch, and I screamed as my arm found its way back into the socket. Furious at the world, I gave Fang another jerk, and it slid out easily to my surprise. The creature’s armor began shrinking as though its owner was disappearing from inside it, and I cursed as my eyes flew wide. All that was left of Lurkan was a dark, stinking slime seeping out of the cracks in Ulbaron.
Pearl of the South (World of the Changed Book #2): LitRPG Series Page 9