by Arthur Stone
Plus, he wouldn’t have to use his Accuracy.
One blow to each ghoul’s head, and both were down.
March clapped his hands mockingly. “Now, what about that guy still in the village?
I was expecting to admire some bow work, but I wouldn’t be disappointed to see you take him down with an ax.”
Cheater turned his head and groaned inwardly at the sight of another beast. It was rushing at them from the far left of the village. He couldn’t see its feet behind the oats, but it moved like a man whose legs had been hopelessly twisted. A trampler. The Continent’s terrifying analog of the grasshopper.
It was nimble enough to catch up with a vehicle as long as the latter wasn’t moving too fast, but not quite swift enough to leap like a biter or manmincer—those could overtake even fast-moving cars. Over short distances, of course.
He could just fill it with arrows, but the trampler had too much armor. He would have to hit vulnerable points exclusively, so he’d need arrows with great penetration, and he’d need excellent Accuracy.
Thankfully, Cheater had both.
Snatching a pair of arrows from his quiver, he stuck one in the ground and nocked the other.
Then, he lowered his weapon slightly and shot the beast in the knee. At this stage, the monster’s legs were basically unprotected, and the shot pierced straight through. The beast rolled down the field, and the shaft snapped loudly, causing his inner miser to sigh sadly and shed a tear.
But that did not prevent Cheater from letting fly a second arrow, changing the trampler in the head at an excellent angle while he was mid-roll.
That was it. The infected fell quiet, its sporesac skewered. Cheater hadn’t taken it out in a single shot, but it was still a decent kill. Many people would have missed a running trampler entirely from thirty yards.
The archer drew and nocked another arrow and scanned the horizon for more targets.
March calmly walked up to the still-twitching trampler and circled around it. “Cheat, this is just a village,” he remarked loudly, “not a major urban center with skyscrapers.
A pack of infecteds would be bored to tears. So you can relax. Just gut this one quickly. We’re here on important business.”
“What business?”
“You don’t remember? We have to go by the store for some of that beer!”
* * *
The shrubs subsided into rows of short acacia bushes. Those in turn became a grove of oak trees, and there Cheater’s companion stopped in a half-lit grove. “Seems like a decent place.
Not a bad spot to down some beer. Have a seat, my friend. I bet you’re tired.”
“Not at all,” Cheater replied. “Ever since I was a kid I loved walking through the heat for hours with a howitzer slung over my shoulder.”
“Hours? No need to blow things out of proportion here. It’s only been an hour and a half. Plus, who asked you to lug an artillery gun around with you?”
“You saying I should just toss it? This is what I killed that elite with.”
“Don’t lie to your best friend, Cheat. You stunned it a bit with the gun, but then you finished it off in your beloved Robin Hood style. Lucky you. As always.”
“Wait, what do you mean?”
“I don’t know how you’re always so lucky.”
“That’s not what I’m asking. Since when did you become my best friend?”
“You really have a lousy memory, Cheat. I believe I saved your life today. Isn’t that what a friend does? Alright, fine, don’t thank me. I know you’re a heartless, ungrateful dog. Now, dark beer or light? Both are only slightly worse than warm piss. No fresh clusters for miles around, so we’ll have to take what we’re given.”
“Light.”
“Here you go, then. Enjoy it, and settle yourself in. We need to have a chat.”
“So, you want to chat. Why did you come all the way out here, then? We have a chat system, you know.”
“You really that unhappy to see me? Or were you planning to stupidly lose another life?”
“Things seemed fine. Who could have known that pair of ghouls would come out of nowhere?”
“Who could have known? I knew. Or I suspected, anyway.”
“How?”
“You see, Cheat, ghouls are dumb. Not as dumb as you, of course, but stupid in their own way. Dumb beasts are easy to predict.”
“Have you been watching me for long?”
“No, not really. I was just passing by and decided to say hello. Which was a fortunate thing for you, you lucky bastard.”
“March, for once let’s leave the stupid jokes aside here. Can you do that, for a minute? So here we go again: Have you been watching me for a while? And what do you want from me? This is starting to get a little unsettling.”
“That is the subject of our conversation. You don’t need to know everything just yet, but it’s time you learned something. As you can probably guess, it’s not for the sake of romance that I keep an eye on you. I have some business we could complete together. Very profitable business. Mutually beneficial. I don’t fancy throwing people under the bus, nor do I fancy being so thrown.”
“Well, thanks for the help and concern, but I don’t need either. I’m a big boy now.”
“Are you refusing to even hear me out?”
“It’s unsettling that you and I have known each other for a good chunk of time now, yet you still have never told me what you want from me. And why is has to be from me in particular. I’d bet everything I had that this secrecy is not about to change, either. Did your old comrades treat you the same way once?”
“Everyone here always wants something from everyone. Just learn to accept that. And you’re right that I’m not about to unwind my soul here in front of you. You could send me away right now, if you want, and I’ll go. But first, let me explain the type of profit I mean. It’s not money. It’s something that could make your little mission here much, much easier. It could change everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re a romantic fool, Cheat. Traveling due east, drawn by the one who loves you. That is rare dedication, rare loyalty, and that is an unusual quality even for a fool. That’s what got my attention. The loyalty. Have you given a moment’s thought to what will happen once you reach this Kitty of yours? No, don’t answer me. I don’t want to hear improvised erotic fantasies from a virgin. But think about this. Let’s say you found each other. What would happen then? Remember the great shithole we’ve all found ourselves in here. This is the Continent, and the Continent loves to kill us now and then. Let’s say Kitty is killed. She gets respawned somewhere nearby and calls for you in your chat box, and you ride to save her. In a white pickup, with a big, throbbing machine gun sticking out of it. Romance and all that, you know. But let’s say you end up killed. What happens then? You respawn in your currently bound region. Do you know which region that is?”
“This one,” Cheater responded darkly.
“Right. You’ll be in this land of the steppes again.”
“I heard that your bound region can be changed.”
“It can be, but that isn’t easy. You can only change your region once per year. Once you cross the border, the System will ask you to agree to the change, or to reject it and stay bound to your old region. You have two possible ways to get to Kitty. I recommended the easier northern route. There, you need to move through several clusters. If you don’t change your bound region as you cross those borders, dying in the first interposed region or while you cross the second border will send you back here. To the steppe. The southern route, where you’re heading, also requires crossing several borders. Moving through that entire area without dying is an unrealistic challenge, to put it lightly. And rebinding to a new region will mean you need to wait a year before you can rebind again. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yeah. You’re suggesting that my life together with Kitty will not last long.”
“Suggesting? I’m stating it
plainly, sir. You can only bind to a new region once per year. Have you given that no thought? Even you can’t be that dense. You’re just stubborn as a mule, so you are resolved to press on no matter what. But deep down, you know your chances are nil. Don’t you?”
“There’s something else. Let’s say I manage to reach her. The System doesn’t separate people it considers loved ones.”
“Right. But how do you show the System you are indeed loved ones? You can’t possibly think that getting laid is sufficient. Otherwise whores would be the most respected specialists in the land. What then? It’s not sex, Cheater. It’s moving in together, at a registered place of residence. But you can’t possibly do that and change your region. The love bonus is a truly rare one. Few people manage to convince the System that they’re not bluffing, that they are truly in love. Understand? You’ll have to somehow prove that you’re not just bumping uglies for pleasure. You’ll have to prove your love is the kind all the old songs sang about.”
“I’ll do it.”
“Of course you will. Stubborn as always. But first, you have to get there.”
“I will.”
“I can help make that journey easier. So easy, in fact, that you’ll soar through the clouds to Kitty as the burden of toil falls from your shoulders. Interested?”
“How the hell can you do that?”
“I’ll make it so you don’t need to worry about your region binding. How’s that?”
“That sounds good. What are you offering?”
“Nothing yet.”
“What? Then what are we even talking about here?”
“We’re just drinking beer and having a good time. What else were you hoping for.”
“This beer is piss, and it turns out the conversation is shit.”
“I warned you about the beer. Look, I can make it so that you can bind your respawns to any region. As often as you like. Without waiting a whole year to do so. You’ll also get much stronger.”
“Even Romeo can’t do that.”
“That pervert you mentioned who really wants your ass?”
“The same. He was looking for some rare item which, when you take with lifejuice, binds you to the place where you took it. Or something like that.”
“This Romeo of yours sounds like a pathetic sod.”
“Forgive me for being so frank, but if the two of you were in a room together, you’d look like the pathetic one.”
“Ah, don’t look on the outward appearance. That’s just a collision of bad genes and childhood malnutrition. Here’s what I propose: First, my patronage. We travel together. Not always, not everywhere, but in general. With me, you’ll be a million times more likely to reach Kitty.”
“This is starting to sound like vassalage...”
“I have no pretenses of ruling over you. I’m just saying I can get you into places you could never get on your own.”
“I understand.
“Second, you will receive the ability to change regions. Don’t ask how. Just know that it will happen. Third, once you get to Kitty, you will be able to bind yourself to her, without even having to prove your reciprocal love to the System. Region changes will no longer separate you. Fourth, as all of this happens, you will grow much stronger, as you receive serious boosts to stats which are difficult to pump and as new abilities emerge for you. Fifth, I will make you rich as hell. And sixth, you will likely pump your Alcoholism to the sky, since my circles are very disposed to that sort of thing. Well? How does that sound?”
“Like a load of nonsense.”
“You think I’m mad, do you?”
“I don’t know what to think of you. But if you really do have access to all of these things, why aren’t you as powerful as you promise I’ll be?”
“I can’t do any of that on my own. I need something from you. So there are certain requirements. I’ll give you a lot, but I must demand something in return.”
“What’s that?”
“I need loyalty. Your loyalty. That’s what I saw in you. Willing to sacrifice life after life in the name of loyalty. I was looking for an idiot just like that when I stumbled into you.”
“Looking? Without eyes? And I stumbled into you, by the way. Blind and hiding in a box.”
“Don’t you exaggerate, and don’t you judge my recruiting tactics. Ah, second demand: I pick the route.”
“And you’ll handle the Spiders?”
“That’s a different matter. We’ll figure it out. Third, I’m tired of watching you wallow in these sandboxes you build. I’m going to show you how to really pump your numbers. After a little bit of that, we’ll head for the border.”
“I thought I was pumping my stats pretty well. This seems like a decent strategy.”
“Really? So how did those three ghouls find you? They didn’t follow the path you set up in the field. They just appeared. Where’d they come from?”
“The three just happened to be wandering past and smelled the place. I was killing dozens of ghouls.”
“You think it was that simple, huh.”
“What else could have given me away?”
“Your miserable stupidity, that’s what. Sometimes I’m a little jealous of the purity of your conscience, unmired by excessive intellectualism. Cheater, a cluster of barns in the middle of wheat fields stands out. In fact, it’s the only noteworthy place in the entire region. And ghouls love bright things that stand out. If you climb into a bush on the steppe and stay there for a week, no one will find you. But if you see an abandoned car in the middle of the steppe? Well, keep as far away from it as you can. Objects with that kind of prominence attract infecteds.”
“I didn’t know that sheds and barns would draw them.”
“They very well might have. Or perhaps it was you who were attracting them.”
“I doubt it. I don’t think I smell. I even took care to wash.”
“Uh-huh. You know, every nut has a matching bolt.”
“Huh?”
“Your nickname isn’t just a meaningless moniker. You’re a cheater. I don’t know the details, but I would venture to say that sometime near the beginning of your life here, you unwittingly took advantage of a security exploit in the System. Something unforeseen. Sometimes these things harm players, sometimes they benefit them, and sometimes they do neither. In your case, you profited big time. But you’re naive—that’s why you’re so honest—so you didn’t pursue the exploit. Or, if you tried, you failed. Because of that, the System considered you to be a decent player, so it just patted you on the head and let you go.”
“I don’t exactly remember a pat on the head.”
“You wouldn’t be here otherwise. This is the System we’re talking about. It has a large number of security measures in place, including ways to stop those who look for exploits. It punishes the most cunning cheaters quickly, and harshly, sending squads of bots and parties of those guys in the black coats and hats after them. If you see that happening, just shoot yourself, over and over, because the System has deployed its defenses against you. This time, it changed something about you. And that change made you an unusual person. You’re playing with some kind of cheat, and perhaps several. But I’m not about to ask what that cheat is. You can tell me on your own later, if you want. No, this conversation is about something else. The System loves contrast. And it has a peculiar sense of humor. It might dish you out a bowl of ice cream with one hand and a crockpot of shit with the other. So whenever something amazing happens, be glad, but also be doubly or triply careful. Because the System is making plans for you. Maybe it’ll just send some pigs your way. Not just once. All the time. Fat, smelly, squealy pigs. Smells to lure monsters. And squeals since, as you know, loud, delicious sounds are not to a player’s benefit here.”
“Are you telling me the System sent those ghouls after me? Led them to my nest from the other direction?”
“The System isn’t even aware of your existence. You’re not a high enough level for it to send black clouds after you.
No, it’s just a bunch of algorithms trying to react to your situation. A ghoul was happening to run past, and these algorithms directed it towards you. And it so happened that an elite was hunting that ghoul.”
“So where’d the trampler come from?”
“It was out trampling some bushes, I don’t know. Maybe it was feeding in the elite’s flock, but the elite surged towards your location too quickly, and it lagged behind. Bony feet aren’t very good for distance running. But anyway, I think we need to curtail this behavior.”
“What behavior?”
“The behavior by which you keep screwing yourself over!”
“Oh come on, our whole life in this world is one big screw-over.”
“Well, well, aren’t you the philosopher! Look: don’t camp in noticeable locations like that, but if you do, give yourself a full three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view. And keep an eye in the sky, too. And down below, in case there’s a tunnel. Ah yes, you remember the third point of my generous demands, don’t you? I’ll show you how to pump your stats, and you’ll hit level 20 with no problems despite your general lack of intelligence. Here, keep your head still.”
March stretched out his free hand—the other being occupied by a can of beer—and held it over Cheater’s head, palm outstretched. A System message appeared.
The player March is offering you a detailed map pack. See a full list of the offered maps attached. If you agree, clearly say or think the word “yes.”
“You’re a cartographer?”
“No, the System is just bored. Yes, I am, now accept the maps.”
“Done. What now?”
“‘What now’? Look at the map of the northernmost cluster. I mean the one you just got from me. You shouldn’t have your own maps, unless you’ve been lying this whole time. Pay the most attention to the eastern part of the cluster. Its corner juts out far and is colored blue from all kinds of bodies of water. See it?”