The Culling of Man: A litrpg adventure (Peril's Prodigy Book 1)

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The Culling of Man: A litrpg adventure (Peril's Prodigy Book 1) Page 5

by Craig Kobayashi

‘Well there goes my shot at seeing a cobra-bear anytime soon,’ Garath thought with chagrin.

  Mark adopted a speculative expression as his eyes darted back and forth behind rimless glasses across the options displayed on his MENU panels then his body, too, began to glow. Everyone's eyes squeezed shut instinctively as they had only just recovered from temporary blindness. The flash lit the inside of their eyelids orange, then faded away.

  "What the hell?" Mark said when the light faded. The middle aged, former banker looked down at himself - but nothing had changed.

  Garath looked thoughtfully at Mark with the same question on his mind, 'What the hell?'

  He figured that when Sharon had undergone her transformation, the blessing had something to do with the Naturist class. Apparently not. Maybe the effects were different because of the difference in age, her Vitality stat may have been far lower as a level one, Class-less, seventy-whatever-year-old woman than it was as a level one Naturist. Conversely, Mark wasn't old, just out of shape. That was the best explanation Garath could come up with at least.

  "Huh," he voiced his agreement. It could have been some weird perk that people over a certain age received, or maybe Sharon just got lucky. Maybe it was a female thing. There were too many unknown factors for anyone to know for sure. Either way, knowing how it happened wouldn't help them to defend themselves.

  Garath opened his MENU panels and checked the Friends partition, he saw that his new 'friend', Athios, had just turned onto Hoyt Ave, where his little group was waiting. He got up and silently left the group to intercept and introduce himself.

  The Necrologist was a little shocked as he caught his first glance of Athios. She was absolutely stunning. Her build was lean and athletic. Her long, dark hair was tied in a loose ponytail and hung just past her shoulders. Her high cheekbones, harshly angled, framed the feature that really caught his attention - her eyes. They were dark as night and looked sad, like she had never been happy in her life, even though - as she looked at him then - her thin lips were raised in a half smile of greeting.

  "Athios?" he asked, with what he hoped was a charming smile on his face. It probably would have been too, if not for the marginally demonic appearance of his glowing eyes and dark wizard hat.

  "And you must be Garath," said Athios. Her hand automatically reaching to pull nervously on a lock of hair that must have escaped her ponytail on her walk to the school.

  "Call me G, everyone does. I'm glad you made it early, I was hoping you would. Warrion over there," he pointed at the little group still gathered in wonder around Sharon, "is the only other gamer in my little group."

  Garath waved his arms, calling Warrion over. He and Athios simply looked at one another other silently until the short, but somehow still gangly, Warrion arrived.

  "What's the plan, G?" Warrion asked, pulling the loose fitting jeans up around his slender waist with one hand.

  "I dunno, figured we would wait and see if anyone else made it before setting anything in stone," said Garath. "Last time I checked we had a few responses on Athios' community post. You guys have any ideas?”

  Athios scanned the surrounding area as best she could in the dim morning light. They had picked a good spot. Eight-foot-tall chain link fences surrounded the black-top basketball courts lined up three long and two wide - taking up roughly half of a city block.

  "I don't think we need to plan anything all that complicated," said Athios. "I mean, unless I totally missed something, we don't even know what we are even going to be actually fighting... Or how our Skills will actually work in combat. Or where these things will, is spawn the right word? Or what their aggro table and pull rates will be like. Or... Hey, you guys mind if I smoke?"

  A golden shimmer was cresting the mountains to the east as the three of them talked strategy over a cigarette. It didn't take long - considering the major lack of information to go on - and the three gamers finished their discussion before Athios finished her cigarette. With their simple plan locked in, the gamers made their way back to where Sharon, Mark, and Sarah were waiting. Garath started to relay the plan to them as the first rays of crimson light pierced the horizon, giving birth to the morning's first shadows. That was about the time that a world-wide message appeared, seemingly for the sole purpose of raising anxiety levels across the globe.

  Countdown to The Culling: 10:00.

  It ticked to 9:59, then 9:58, and continued its countdown in Garath’s vision - with or without his MENU panels open.

  In the anxious minutes that followed, several groups arrived to meet them on the fenced asphalt. Garath greeted each of them as they arrived, relaying the plan and identifying those in each group who would fight and those who needed protection.

  Most of the newcomers were families with children and Garath swallowed hard as he looked at them. He wondered how was he supposed to keep all of them safe and, beyond that, whether he'd even be able to hang on to his own life for the next twenty-four hours. Until that moment, everything had felt abstract - like he was experiencing his first full dive VR game - but the fantasy ended right then for Garath and his nerves went into overdrive as the reality of the situation came crashing down.

  In all, the group that waited nervously for the apocalypse totalled 31. Based on the questions he asked each group as they arrived, Garath found that there were 11 children; 12 able bodied adults that had chosen a Class and were ready to fight for their lives; 6 adults that had not chosen a Class or had told Garath they couldn't - or wouldn't - fight (including the cowardly banker, Mark); and one blind older man named Russ that said he hadn't received any of the prompts and really only knew what was happening as it was relayed to him by his wife - who had seen Athios’ thread and led the man to the supposed safety being with the group would offer. With everyone in place lined up against the red brick building on either side of the doors, Garath addressed them.

  “Just like I said before,” he started as the timer ticked under three minutes, “we don't know if the insides of buildings will be safe when… whatever it is that's going to happen happens. We don't want to be trapped inside if that's the case. Athios is on the roof so she'll have a better idea of what we're dealing with and let us know. If it is safe in buildings we'll get the kids inside immediately and post up to defend the door. If the buildings are not safe, have your kids stay against the walls and we'll hold them off from here.”

  He took a few steps back and looked at their formation. Parents in front of their children, himself and the others ready to fight in front of them. He looked at the eleven children and eight adults that claimed unwilling or unable to fight - and had a thought.

  “By a show of hands, who hasn't chosen a Class?” he asked.

  Nine of the children and six of the non-fighters raised their hands, Sarah among them. Garath nodded gravely, hating himself just a little bit for what he was about to do.

  “What I'm about to say is for those of you that told me you weren't willing or able to fight,” he said, flipping Mark a very Spock-like raised eyebrow. “Keeping your hands clean AND staying alive may not be an option. Turn around and look at these children,” he said, pausing to allow a moment for everyone to take a good look at the frightened group of children with their backs against the wall. “If those of us that are fighting for your lives go down, those children standing behind you right now will only have you between them and death,” he said coldly. His statement was specifically meant for the adults that weren't willing to fight to save their own lives, excluding one very pregnant hispanic woman - fighting in her condition would probably be humorous to watch, but it couldn't be good for the baby. “With that in mind, unless there is a damn good reason for you not to fight,” Garath nodded meaningfully toward the hispanic woman, “then you need to contribute. If you don't want to fight, that's fine. You're going to be healers.”

  He did it. Garath was now responsible for one of the worst atrocities in the gaming world, he pushed unwilling participants into being healers - perpetuating the cycle
that had led to so many sub-par healers (and unhappy gamers) in countless games. This wasn't a game though, and he knew he’d have to take every advantage available to increase everyone’s chance of survival and, willing or not, God damned children or not, an additional fifteen healers in the group would definitely improve the odds.

  “The Classes Preacher, Naturist, and Hallowed Knight all had some mention of healing abilities in their Class description so pick one of those. Do this right now,” said Garath. “I feel like there were two or three more but I can't remember. Anyone already have a healing Skill that isn't one of those three?”

  An asian man of middle-age wearing glasses piped up. “Well, it's more of a skill than a Skill - but I'm a doctor. If anyone gets seriously injured, find me and I'll do whatever I can,” he said, his voice soft - almost as though he were embarrassed about being a doctor at a time like this.

  Garath could see from his nameplate that his name was TodoroKen. Because of the way TodoroKen differentiated skill from Skill, Garath wondered if the good doctor was also a closet gamer - when Garath had asked his family if any of them had experience gaming he quickly shook his head no and glanced nervously at his wife. The Necrologist made a mental note of that growing suspicion and continued.

  “For anyone that didn't hear that,” Garath projected, pointing at the doctor, “this is TodoroKen, he's a doctor. Bring any serious injuries to him. Any questions?”

  None came.

  As the countdown to The Culling ticked ever closer to zero the group gained nine child healers between the ages of six and thirteen. Four of the adults that didn't want to fight also chose a healing Class. Garath took a second to explain what he had learned about spell casting and gave them instructions to watch the Health bars of the people fighting in front of them and cast healing spells whenever somebody took damage.

  With thirty seconds left on the countdown and everyone in their respective positions, Garath's breathing was shallow, his heart beating in his chest like it was trying to break its way out. He worried that their simple formation wouldn't be enough to keep everyone safe. He took a deep breath, trying to force the butterflies from his stomach. And then it began...

  Chapter 7

  The Culling

  The countdown to The Culling finally ticked down to 00:00. When it did, the entirety of the beautiful blue planet was blanketed in a pitch darkness. Every form of illumination was extinguished as though some divine being had simply flipped the breaker on the power to the universe. The silence was heavy and loomed oppressive as every creature on the planet held its breath.

  A message appeared to every person single human being on Earth in an ornate and elaborate font - legible even in the complete darkness.

  Fight well and live, human.

  The following changes have taken place:

  - A global clock has been added to your interface to replace the ineffective, time-zone specific measurement. It will run on a twenty-four hour count and will begin at 00:00 now.

  - Monsters of The Culling have joined the world.

  - Party and Raid Groups are now available.

  - You may now 'Inspect' enemies and other humans to gain additional information.

  - Items have been added to your inventory to assist you. These items are a one-time event gift for your attendance in the event: The Culling. Do not expect such generosity in the future.

  - Combat log now available (to access, see Options partition)

  - An Options partition has been added to your MENU to customize your interface.

  Garath read over what looked vaguely like patch notes in a flash and dismissed the prompt. It was replaced immediately with another.

  The Culling will continue for the next twenty-four hours, increasing in difficulty every three hours. Survivors will be judged, good luck.

  The darkness and silence lingered for a moment of complete stillness. Garath thought over the recent changes again, cursing silently to himself yet again about the lack of details (the mention of “Monsters of The Culling” was especially vague, in his opinion) until, finally, the light returned in the same sudden manner that it had vanished scant moments before and a collective exhale was released across the planet.

  The morning continued as if nothing at all had happened, even the shadows hadn't moved an inch during the light voiding anomaly. The pale lavender of early morning bathed the landscape once again and the sun continued its daily journey across the sky. The air was brisk with a chill wind and golden light spilled over the mountains. Almost everything was just how it was. But one significant difference was immediately apparent.

  Innumerable black, basketball-sized orbs were hovering a few feet off the ground, each one only about five-feet from the next in any direction. They didn't seem to be moving and they didn't look like any monsters Garath had ever seen, so he (and just about everyone else on Earth) waited nervously for the other shoe to drop.

  There were several orbs closely surrounding the company. Garath quickly spotted some of the mysterious orbs hovering a few feet over the tops of buildings and, in one case, even on top of a telephone pole. It seemed to Garath that, apart from where they were standing, the mysterious orbs were spaced in a perfect grid as far as the eye could see without exception.

  Knowing what he would see before he even looked up, Garath cringed. One of the mysterious orbs was hovering motionless directly above his head. Even more to his chagrin, another handful more of the worrisome monster-balls hovered over the heads of the children standing with their backs against the wall.

  "Fuck," he whispered to himself. G quickly opened his Menu panels and the orbs began to crackle and spark menacingly. He noticed the new ‘Options’ partition and scrolled past it as he located the new options for ‘Party and Raid Groups’. If standard gaming logic applied, a Party would only hold up to five people - so he focused on Raid and was presented with a prompt.

  Would you like to form a Raid Group?

  Yes or No

  ***For your information: A Raid Group may consist of individual members and Parties (maximum: 200 members). Being in a Raid Group allows for seamless communication with everyone in the group.

  ‘Convenient,’ Garath thought as he read the prompt, choosing ‘Yes’ instantly. He thought about how that was easily the most detailed prompt he had received yet and hoped that trend would continue, but it did still leave quite a bit to the imagination. For example, would he be able to organize Parties into fighters, support, and non-combatants? Or see the Health and Mana of everyone in the group even when he wasn't looking at them? Would he be able to control this, ‘seamless communication’ so that 31 panicking voices didn’t all express their concerns at the same time? This wasn't the time to internally complain about the vague prompts though, so he turned on his heel to face to the group. He started mentally firing Raid invitations to every one of the names he read on the nameplates in front of him as fast as he could. Athios was the first accept his invitation.

  “Athios, report?” he said, hoping his voice would make it to her on the roof via the before mentioned 'seamless communication’.

  “I think the buildings are safe,” said Athios from the rooftop. Garath heard her voice, but it seemed to be coming more from inside of his head than external sounds funneled through his ears to be processed by his brain. Apparently the seamless communication noted in the prompt was in reference to a Raid communication channel that seemed to connect the members telepathically.

  “Okay. Get off the roof,” he told her, then raised his voice so everyone could hear him whether or not they had accepted his invitation. “Buildings are safe, get the kids inside now!”

  People ran screaming through the streets between abandoned vehicles as the Raid invitations were accepted and Garath's group made their way to the doors. The mysterious orbs began to crackle with streaks of electric white energy dancing across their surface. Garath made it to the doors first and tugged on the handle - and his heart sank. It was fucking locked.

 
; ‘Of course it was locked,’ Garath thought. ‘Why wouldn't it have been locked?’

  The Necrologist pulled on both handles with every bit of his five points of Strength to no avail. He stepped away and looked helplessly at the group. Right behind them, Garath caught sight of the orbs that had each swollen to the size of a beach ball and were still expanding.

 

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