A Second Chance

by Vasily Mahanenko

  “Have you lost it?” I said angrily. “I’m not fucking fishing. If it’s so important to you, you shove whatever you want wherever you want.”

  “I can’t, it’ll hurt. And I’m a pretty useless fisherman. If you don’t want to put your tail in the river, walk over the bridge. It’s not my problem. I’ll be fine anyway.”

  “I’m going to crawl on my belly.” I wasn’t going to give up.

  “Get a move on then. Experience doesn’t just gain itself. Have you not noticed just how fortuitous your fall was? Stick your tail in the river!” Eredani was trying another tack.

  Instead of my tail, I tried dipping my pickaxe in, but the demons audaciously ignored it, so I was forced to turn my back to the river and squat down. If I was a water demon, I would demand satisfaction for just one glimpse of a backside hanging over my home. I was in no hurry to put my tail back in, because although my HP had recovered, memories of being bitten were still fresh. It wasn’t critical, but it still hurt.

  “Do you like fairy tales?” Eredani asked out of the blue.

  “No. And I hate it when serious people tell them,” I muttered, slowly lowering my tail.

  “What a bore you are. And so proper.” He continued to sermonize. “Now say the magic words: Fish be caught, large and small.”

  I laughed. “I know that tale. The wolf’s a fucking idiot.”

  “Pull! Pull!” he shouted.

  My tail flew out of the river, dragging another level-two demon out into the air. Two steps, pick in hand, tail forward, five strikes — and a new flask of blood appeared in my inventory, while my Fishing scale increased by two points.

  “The wolf’s not an idiot. It just wasn’t the right fish,” Eredani said philosophically. “But ours is. Look, the bridge is another two centimeters wider. Kvalen, you need different bait. You’re only catching small fry. You’re a serious guy, but you’re wasting your talents on trifles.”

  He was winding me up. I did some math: to be sure I’d get across, I would need to catch no less than ten demons. Then the pole would be wide enough that my vestibular apparatus could coolly withstand the walk.

  With every demon caught, I had to wait longer and longer for the next one to bite. If I snagged the first five beasts almost immediately, starting with the sixth I had to wait with my tail dangling in that strange substance. It was still difficult to call it water. The tenth demon took over a minute, during which time I felt several impulses to give up and just go for it, but Eredani insisted on ten. As usual he didn’t explain, but his reasons became clear as soon as the last beastie was impaled on the pickaxe.

  Improvements gained

  Experience: +14, until next level: 824

  Booty received: 1 demon blood

  Achievement gained

  Level-one threat to demons. You have destroyed ten demons, without dying once. Your skills are staggering. Damage to all demons is increased by 5%. To reach the next level you must destroy 100 demons, without dying once (progress: 10 out of 100)

  “I’m not going to hang around here until I go blue in the face!” I warned, after reading the text.

  “You won’t have to. We’ve caught all the small fry,” said Eredani. “But admit it, it would be cool to get ten percent to damage.”

  “Ninety demons! It’s me, not us, who’s going to be catching them for six months!”

  “Still, I wasn’t joking about the bait,” he said enigmatically. “Let’s go to the middle of the bridge. You go in up to your waist, and I’ll hold you. There’s a theory we need to test.”

  “Tell me first,” I said obstinately. “I don’t want to stick my butt back into the unknown.”

  “It’s not your butt, it’s your tail,” he corrected me. “If I’m wrong, you’ll just sit there, that’s all. If not, then… Put your legs in and wave your tail from side to side.”

  “What the hell for? Are you using me as live bait?”

  “We agreed you would do everything without question until my first mistake. Now stick your ass in the river!” My co-player had adopted an authoritative tone, worthy of someone used to giving orders, so I evaluated the situation. No matter how much it galled me, we really had agreed on my unquestioning subordination until his first slip. It would be unprofessional to disobey him twice in one day. And anyway, it was only a game, so I was there to enjoy it.

  I moved forward a little and climbed down into the river, holding onto the bridge. Nothing happened. Apparently we had caught all the river demons. However, Eredani reminded me to wag my tail, so after shooting him a hostile look, I obeyed his order.

  The yank on my tail was unexpected and unthinkably hard, and before I knew it I was in up to my neck, only the strength of Eredani’s hands preventing me going completely under.

  Damage sustained

  Health level reduced by 30: 30 (river demon bite) - 0 (physical protection). Remaining Health: 570 out of 600

  Health level reduced by 30: 30 (river demon bite) - 0 (physical protection). Remaining Health: 540 out of 600

  Health level reduced by 30: 30 (river demon bite) - 0 (physical protection). Remaining Health: 510 out of 600

  My new assailant was quicker and more powerful than its predecessors. It dragged me down to the bottom, chewing my longsuffering tail. I groaned, ready to dig my own teeth into whatever was at hand so as not to plunge further, but Eredani hauled me out of the river just in time. Lightning quick, I shot to the opposite bank — fuck fishing! On attaining my long-awaited target, instead of immediately finishing the demon off with my pick, this time I knocked it to the ground with a hoof — enduring more pain was more than I could cope with.

  “Don’t let it slip back in!” Shouted Eredani, running after me. “But don’t kill it!”

  The level-three river demon, the size of a dog, billowed smoke into the air and paddled with its hands, trying to get back to its familiar environment. Its skin was peeling, and it howled, crawling desperately toward the river — its only chance of salvation.

  I aimed a blow and brought the pick down on the beast’s tail. The game mechanics did not fail me — the weapon sank deep into the ground, impaling the fish. It howled even louder and twitched violently, so I leaned on it and clasped its maw shut with my hands so it couldn’t snap anymore. It did continue to whine and fume, however, since exposure to air acted on river demons like fire.

  “Pain! Feed! I want to feed! I don’t want pain! I want to feed!” The skewered beastie unexpectedly spoke up in the language of the demons, but strangely I understood it. The specifics of my origins were making themselves known.

  “Ask it where the treasure is,” demanded Eredani.

  “Pain! I don’t know anything! I want to feed! Pain! Home! Feed!”

  “Answer!” Eredani commanded threateningly. “Where’s the treasure?”

  “Feed! Give me food! I don’t know anything! It hurts!”

  The demon’s skin was drying out quickly and sloughing off from contact with the air, causing it pain. Eredani scooped out a little of the water-sand and pour it over the captive, upon which its skin ceased to peel, and it sighed with relief. But only for a second, for the sand soon slid off, and the pain returned.

  “Where’s the treasure?” We continued our interrogation, repeatedly providing sand relief.

  “In the water!” the demon wailed sorrowfully. “I don’t know anything! Give me food! I want to go home! Pain!”

  Additional characteristic accessible: executioner

  Description: Your ability to extract a confession from prisoners is impressive. Every characteristic point increases the probability of drawing out a prisoner and eliciting information by 0.1% right up to 50%. Prisoner mortality decreases by 0.1% right up to 50%. The shadow clans of Barliona will be interested in you.

  I was momentarily taken aback, trying to grasp what the system meant. As if all I needed to be happy as a pig in shit was the interests of the dark side of Barliona. Thieves, criminals, outcasts, and other scum. Eredani was more than e
nough!

  Pressing the Decline button, I told my partner to sprinkle the demon once more.

  “If you tell us where the treasure is, I’ll let you back in. I won’t kill you.”

  “Bullshit! Food! Give me food! Bullshit! I don’t know anything!”

  The questioning wasn’t going well. The demon was crying more from pain and hunger, than saying anything constructive. I determined to be as firm as I knew how.

  “It’s not bullshit! You and I are of one blood. We are children of demons.” My God, what was I saying? I — a human with two university degrees and a serious profession — was fraternizing with a demon fish in some ridiculous virtual game. The world had gone mad, and I together with it. “I ran into some bad luck and was purified, but inside I’m the same demon as you! Help me, brother! Let me relieve you of your suffering, and return you to the river. Tell me where the treasure is. I need your help. Don’t you want to go home? Now where’s the fucking treasure?!”

  “It’s there!” howled the demon, succumbing to our demands. “In the water! Under guard! Food! Feed me! Pain!”

  Additional characteristic accessible: Charisma

  Description: Your ability to persuade and win others over is impressive. You have a strong personality and the ability to be a leader and reach out to creatures. Every characteristic point increases the probability of receiving a hidden task from NPCs by 0.1% right up to 50%. Every characteristic point increases Experience gained by you and players under your leadership by 0.1% right up to 50%.

  Even without Eredani’s advice, I accepted the new characteristic. I’d read lots about it, and knew its particular requirements and the rules for receiving it — without the appropriate charisma in reality, it was impossible to receive it in the game. You didn’t just learn overnight how to persuade people and be able to lead them. Even in life it wasn’t something you could learn specially.

  “Why are you torturing an animal, you heartless fiends?” A thundering roar immobilized me and enabled a cluster of debuffs, while Eredani hit the ground like a croaking mummy. I heard heavy, but quick steps, following which a red and somewhat muscly paw with black claws hoved into my field of vision. The paw took hold of the demon, but I protested:

  “That’s our quarry!” It was none too convincing, but I was heard.

  “Oh it’s yours, nobody’s denying that. But you either kill it, or let it go! It’s not good when the strong torment the weak. Can’t you see the animal’s in a bad way out in the air? Stay here and await my order!”

  This last phrase was directed at the demon. A quiet glug, and I felt the prisoner’s relief in my guts, before the demon flapped a couple of times and disappeared down to the riverbed to lick its wounds. The beclawed paw lifted me up and turned me to face its owner. The higher demon Argalot was a boss without level, and in addition the local Hermit. I sized up the Adonis. The wholesome and rather attractive muzzle might have adorned the covers of novels about weak women and strong men. The red skin with its dark veins looked diseased, but what did I know about higher demons? For all I knew it was the highest expression of brutality. The athletic, two-meter figure and fine wings provided the finishing touch to this exemplar of masculine perfection. I wouldn’t have refused such a flying machine.

  “Who put you up to catching demons with your tail?” Argalot placed me on the ground and disabled the debuffs. At last I could breathe normally. “What if there were crocodiles around here?”

  “Result!” Eredani got up by himself. “We caught the boss.”

  “What boss? That’s small change,” said Argalot dismissively. “The boss of the river demons dwells in the depths of Lake of Tranquillity. What would he be doing in the shallows of the River of Darkness?”

  My partner fell on his knees in a white glow. His Cartography had been boosted by a level, arousing more pleasant sensations. He was boosting up quickly compared to my Cartographer, which had only just reached a quarter of the scale.

  “Let’s go. It’s time to do business,” said Hermit, waving an arm somewhere toward the interior of the island.

  “Are you not going to ask who sent us and why?” I said, throwing my partner a bewildered look.

  “Uldaron sent you here. I don’t know why he sent you, Kvalen, but Eredani needs to catch a demon. Have you been in the Abyss?” he asked my partner.

  “Yes,” replied the other curtly.

  “I see. The Abyss was too much for you. It happens,” said Argalot, shrugging. “So what brings you here, Kvalen? Along for the ride, or couldn’t cope with the Abyss either?”

  “No, I coped. I just can’t cope with my demoness.”

  “Demoness?” the lord of the island sniggered. “What sort of man can’t cope with a woman? Summon her and let’s have a look at this sweetheart of yours.” I did so, and a second later Hermit said, “Holy Abyss! This little jalapeno gets top marks on the Scoville scale!”

  Aniram squealed and adjusted her hair coquettishly. If demons could blush, she would have reddened like a poppy. She folded her wings and batted her eyes, clearly wanting to look hotter. Even her horns sharpened. Were she might type, she would have been a veritable beauty.

  Kvalen: Come on then, Barliona specialist, explain what the Scoville scale is.

  Eredani: Ignoramus. It has nothing to do with Barliona. It’s a scale of the pungency of hot peppers.

  Kvalen: Meaning Aniram is a hottie? I was wondering what jalapeno had to do with anything.

  “Lovely.” Argalot walked around Aniram, voicing his approval. “Her capricious and feisty character is chiselled into her face. I love girls like that. It’s not going to be easy for you, Kvalen. Now I understand why you’re here.”

  “He will be trampled and debased,” Aniram pitched in with her unctuous voice. “I’m going to beat him to a pulp and drink his soul!”

  Argalot embraced her, unfazed by our presence.

  Eredani: Something like that. Except that Argalot is brazenly lying to her. A jalapeno is nothing to a real pepper connoisseur.

  Kvalen: Out of male solidarity, let’s not judge him for one little schmooze, hey?

  “Aniram, allow me to show you my estate. Should you behave yourself, I shall ask Kvalen to remove these white ropes,” said the demon, indicating the demoness’s bound hands.

  “I shall be as good as pie, my Apostate,” she said, breaking into a smile. Her tone sent shivers down my spine.

  “What about our catch?” I said, remembering the fish. “The river demon owes us treasure.”

  “He’s not going anywhere!” Argalot waved an irritated hand. “Who needs that addled egg. Although… Eredani, come here!” Eredani approached Hermit apprehensively. “Take the river demon in your hands and close your eyes. I’m going to bind you.”

  “I don’t want a lower,” Eredani protested. “Kvalen’s got an archdemon, and you want to slip me this piece of crap? You could at least give me a regular.”

  “If you want a demon or an archdemon, take a leap into the Abyss!” said Argalot irately. “Take what you’re given! When you level up to a hundred, you can change it. Free citizens have access to five ranks of demon: lower, regular, true, arch, and higher. Each hundred levels you get the opportunity to change the rank of your subjugated demon. Kvalen pulled his archdemon out first time, but it’s three ranks higher than authorized, and he can’t cope without my help. Aniram is enough to get him to level four hundred, but then he’ll have to replace her anyhow. By the way, my dear, take note of that. The quicker your master levels up, the quicker you will return to the Abyss.”

  “He’s not my master, Apostate,” said the demoness, correcting him. “I will return to the Abyss much sooner. Just as soon as I’ve crushed his head.”

  “I suppose that’s another option,” Argalot agreed. “Eredani, take the demon and close your eyes. You’re stuck with the fish until level one hundred.”

  My partner kneeled stroppily down and fished out the demon. Unable to stand up to the higher, despite him being cal
led Hermit, our former captive had stayed close to the riverbank, occasionally breaking the surface to remind us of its presence. Argalot threw a sphere over the fish, like a drop of water, and it was comfortable with that and didn’t howl again. Eredani closed his eyes, and Aniram shrank back away from Argalot, as lines of light projected from him, just like those from the priestesses. This was a huge shock to everyone, since the nature of the beasts of the Abyss did not presuppose the use of Barliona magic, but Argalot didn’t care. He shrouded the hands of the river demon in snow-white manacles and made a few tweaks, before a gong sounded to announce that the binding was complete.

  “Hide it,” Argalot ordered. “When we get to my dwelling, you can show how you coped with the Demon Strike. And you, Kvalen, dismiss your moppet for the time being.”