by Arthur Stone
“What…what is this nonsense?”
“It’s not nonsense,” Watershed intoned. “It’s a quest. A quest from me.”
Watershed’s lofty, ceremonial voice prompted Cheater to double-check the message. “Okay, no. This isn’t a quest. This is a joke.”
“I’ll explain a bit more, then. We don’t like to talk about some things, so I won’t disclose details. I have spent a resource creating this quest, a resource only digis possess. We accumulate it over time and can spend it on a number of useful things, including quests for players. I’ve accumulated this resource for quite a while; in addition, I’m a high-level character, allowing me to make quests far better than those by typical, rank and file NPCs. I’ve invested a great deal of personal resources in this quest. It’s difficult, yes, but equally rewarding.”
Watershed smiled softly. “The close-minded among us call me a prophet. These skills of ‘prophecy’ they attribute to me tell me that you, Cheater, have everything you need to complete this quest. Your chances of success are close to perfect. I have utter faith in you. I think you’ll even complete it as you perform other tasks, without even realizing it. It’s inevitable that you prevail, so there’s no point in me explaining the quest itself. Just keep moving, Cheater, and it will happen… well, it will likely happen. When you blindly accept a quest of this difficulty and then ultimately complete it, the bonuses you receive may be tripled. It’s at the System’s jurisdiction, of course, and it will decide on the fly what rewards you’ve merited. The rewards are still bound to be great, though, and you’ll appreciate them.”
As if reading Cheater’s mind, Watershed added a caveat. “If I reveal the details of the quest, you will lose this bonus. What’s the point, if this extraneous information harms, not helps? That is the very nature of this quest. I understand it sounds frustrating, and I know I might seem crazy. I know you might think that no lone person could complete this task, but then you’d still complete it down the road without the boon of a bonus. It’s your choice: bonus, or no bonus? I can’t fathom a downside.
Everything about Watershed’s announcement was anathema to Cheater—he was a man of facts, not faith. For this reason, he couldn’t help but push back. “What if I do fail?”
“This isn’t the kind of quest that charges a penalty for failure.”
“In that case, I see no reason to turn it down.”
“That is, after a little persuasion,” Watershed smirked, then glanced up at the midnight sky. “Unless you have more questions for me, you should really be on your way.”
“You drive away guests in the middle of the night?”
“Of course not! Stay as long as you’d like! I just thought you were in a hurry—you said so yourself many times, did you not?”
“I guess I did,” Cheater admitted.
“We’ve been hurrying for your sake this whole time,” Watershed pointed out. “Why the sudden reluctance? Plus, there are many places on the Continent that are best traversed under the cover of night. The Hole, in case you haven’t noticed, is not a place we’ve subjugated… at least, for now. I’m sure that this will change one day, especially with your help.”
“And the help of my million spores...” Cheater muttered under his breath.
“Oh, just a friendly loan you’ve made to a dumbass digi, eh?” Cheater’s benefactor shot him a wide grin. “Since I’m a prophet, I should utter some prophecies, should I not? Something tells me you’ve obtained a bonus allowing you to change at least one letter in your nickname. I also can tell that you’ve not yet spent all of your free experience. I’d recommend you consider Stealth. Few can fully appreciate the value of this stat, especially for you.”
“Why especially for me?”
“At level 60 Stealth, for example, you can trick weak players into thinking you’re a know-nothing novice. Powerful players never discuss high-level bonuses, so information about them is difficult to obtain. Of course, remember that players with high Perception can see right through such a disguise. Only a handful of players with this ability live on the Continent, so the risk of running into them is negligible. Remember: you have everything you need to complete the quest I gave you. Do not worry about it—just do it.”
With that, the frustratingly enigmatic prophet gave Cheater a sly wink.
Chapter 23
Life Nine. Holey Cauldrons
Cheater’s final steps were the most taxing of all. It was practically impossible to keep up with the tireless bulldozer that was Drowner in the face of a never-ending dead swamp. All you could see was more of the same: black mud in all directions. When the dry land ahead was also black, you didn’t have much to cling to. To date, this was Cheater’s longest journey through dead lands, especially through mud. If his System clock was correct, they’d been trudging through blackness for five and a half hours. Living beings weren’t meant to survive in dead clusters forever. Sooner or later, things would get problematic. Cheater’s lack of sleep didn’t help, either. He could thank Watershed for that: the NPC figured Cheater and Drowner should set out immediately, under cover of darkness.
A step away from the dry ground, Drowner stopped and pointed. “See that hill?”
The sun was rising now, flaring directly into Cheater’s eyes. In short, no—he couldn’t see anything. After a few seconds of strained squinting, however, Cheater could pick it out. “Yeah… that tiny bump, right? I see it.”
“Head straight towards it, but don’t climb it. Someone may notice you from far away. There shouldn’t be anyone in this cluster, but you never know. Circle around it and then head straight towards the sun. After one hour, you’ll exit into a green cluster. There will be a little mire to cross, nothing too troublesome. You won’t need my assistance to clear it. Once you leave the black, you’ll see a clean stream with a sandy bottom. You can wash there, with soap and sand. Change into the spare clothes you brought. I trust Watershed told you which direction to pursue beyond that?”
“Indeed,” Cheater affirmed, before growing slightly nervous. “Drowner, you won’t come with me the rest of the way?”
“I’m sorry, but it’s an unnecessary risk. That’s where the Cauldron begins, and its inhabitants hate people like me. My Stealth is weak, so Bugle’s watchers might spot me from far off. I should stay away. The road is easy; you won’t get lost. The mud is passable. Walk lightly, but with purpose. If you do, you won’t get stuck.”
Cheater extended a hand in farewell. “Good luck, Drowner.”
Hesitantly taking his hand, the shy NPC began to dither. “By the way, her... What is it about her?”
Cheater stopped short. “About who?”
“Well, your girlfr—the girl you’re traveling towards.”
“You know about her?” Cheater exclaimed.
Drowner grinned bashfully. “Cheater, around here, the birds and trees know about her! Legends have spread far and wide, told at every inn and bar and crossroads, about the impossibly lucky player crossing the whole Continent to find his girlfriend. I wouldn’t doubt that she’s already heard the stories herself. You don’t seem to be in much of a hurry, though.”
“Hurrying doesn’t always work out,” Cheater noted, irony not lost on him. He then turned to leave, glancing back at Drowner once last time.
“At least tell me if she’s beautiful or something!” Drowner called out. “I'm interested!”
“I’d say she is… but that’s a controversial question,” Cheater parried.
“That’s what I thought!” Drowner responded brightly. “Well, good luck—we’ll be rooting for you!”
* * *
Drowner gave Cheater perfect directions. Both their landmarks and distances were spot on. An hour later, Cheater had arrived at the stream. He eagerly discarded his clothes, as they were beyond help; apparel touched by black mud was easier to trash than to wash. Only the strongest of detergents could purge the dark mire. Skin, thankfully, was easier to clean. About 40 minutes later, no hint of Cheater’s swamp journe
y remained—except, perhaps, the unnatural stiffness in his hair. He had not dunked his head, but the swamp’s mist and fumes had probably gotten to it. Only hot water and a good shampooing would remedy the situation, a luxury only available in civilization. Once his hygiene was attended to, Cheater sat on the bank and ate a ham sandwich he’d whipped up. As he ate, he browsed his interface.
Chatting with March was still impossible, as it had been before he stepped into the stream. Watershed informed him that his people had tried the same from this point. When it came to NPCs claiming to be prophets, “trust but verify” was Cheater’s modus operandi. The verification passed, regrettably. Where are you, March? At least Cheater had a complete map of the Cauldron. It was outdated but workable; any serious discrepancies here would only exist in inhabited stables. On such settlements, someone was always busy building, remodeling, or destroying. Cheater would no longer be wandering blind. Maps were invaluable, truly worth their weight in pearls.
Meanwhile, Watershed’s contacts appeared of dubious worth. The NPC didn’t trust anyone in this area. Here, he had no influence. Cheater’s choice to give a million spores’-worth of modifications to support an incomprehensible, apparently impotent organization was…not among his finer moments. He strongly doubted he’d ever see the money again. Trust could be good—even in a place like this---but he had his limits. On the other hand, Cheater had only invested half of the wealth he had acquired in the gray wilderness. Would he ever be able to return to claim the other half, though? That was a risk and a time-suck. He knew Watershed’s party had lost several people on their quest to retrieve his money. Cheater was not surprised by this. He’d been alone under the cover of Chameleon in the middle of the night, and the grays still detected him. A whole party of people stuck out like a sore thumb.
Even if the million was never repaid, Cheater reasoned, it wasn’t really “lost.” The NPCs hadn’t killed Cheater, nor surrendered him to any bounty hunters hired by Romeo, the Spiders or any other dirty-dealer. They had even provided him some helpful information, along with promises of a long, fruitful and mutually beneficial arrangement. Whether it would be worth a bag of modifications remained to be seen, but Cheater refused to dwell or regret. Sure, it was a lot of money, but Cheater had used modifications on his weaponry and sold others for sporesac money. They were easy to spend, and they really only made up a small portion of his wealth. He had walked away with a backpack full of things, things better than lesser or average modifications. Not a single superior mod had been left in the treasure mound, after all. Superiors were the most valuable item the gray clusters had to offer.
Cheater took a moment to glance at his map. If he continued in a straight line for about six miles, he would leave the winding, interwoven maze of dead and living clusters. However, Drowner’s advice and personal experience both suggested that he might encounter more black swamps, perhaps even deeper ones. Without a guide, Cheater might drown, rendering his treasure unrecoverable. Therefore, Cheater elected to travel the hard way, a meandering path that would take three times as long to traverse. He’d spent so many hours on this trip already…what was a few more?
* * *
Cheater was not about to just swagger up to the town. Instead, he moved as far from the road and apartment buildings as possible. According to Watershed, the Hole and the Cauldron were empty of powerful infecteds. The NPCs and players alike were interested in ensuring that these isolated little worlds weren’t overrun with hordes of threatening beasts. Fresh clusters were often cleaned out, and order was—for the most part—maintained. That said, the grumbling ghouls weren’t the Continent’s only danger. There were things that were deadlier still. Cheater knew to keep his head down at all costs. Suddenly, a rifle shot sounded, causing Cheater to freeze in his tracks. The sound indicated it was low-caliber. No respectable merchant carried such guns, for there was no demand for them. Even a mere runner was difficult to kill with a weapon like that. A direct hit right to the heart would still leave it time to reach your face with its fangs before it fell down dead. With a piddly little gun like that, more dangerous creatures were out of the question.
Why was anyone using such a gun, then? A gun like that could only be found in fresh clusters. New digis, embarking on their deranged journey to utter madness, would begin campaigns of violence against each other and any wandering players besides. They could shoot at infecteds too, of course, if they were oblivious enough to the weapon’s uselessness. This specific cluster did not appear fresh; not five minutes ago, Cheater had passed a cow skeleton, its flesh consumed by weak infecteds. This cluster was clearly not new… and yet someone was shooting off a worthless noisemaker? Interesting. On the Continent, curiosity was not a skill with the power to save your skin. This especially applied when the objects of that curiosity were unexplored clusters and unexplained gunshots. Weighing his options, Cheater opted to investigate; he might be able to find something of worth.
* * *
Cheater’s search was brief. He found the source of the ruckus on the flat roof of a tall concrete box on the edge of the village, some sort of modern, minimalist farm building. A gathering group of infecteds made their hungry little yowls below. Cheater felt a pang of déjà vu; he’d been in rooftop situations like this twice before. The first forced refuge was the top of a transformer building, the next atop a large gas station canopy. Looking back at those past struggles to survive made him laugh out loud, though they were no laughing matter at the time. His own struggles behind him, Cheater now watched someone else’s. The player before him was clearly a noob. Six runners and one raffler—a low-level raffler, missing a limb!—had pushed this newb to his wit’s end. Another infected lay on the ground, lightly twitching. This was the one felled by the small-caliber rounds. It seemed as though the newb’s rounds were out. His panic was palpable. He clearly had no idea what to do next.
Cheater watched the novice player sweat and fret through his rifle scope. This player was not on his first spawn, but past the stage of throwing away lives for Luck points. He had at least managed to learn a thing or two from experienced players, but they’d clearly taught him poorly. The boy should have learned this policy to deal with infecteds: if you can’t quietly fight, you had to choose flight. The blast from his small-caliber rifle would easily function as a dinner bell to nearby ghouls. For a low-level beginner with scanty equipment, that was a death sentence. If Cheater left him now, the poor fellow would be doomed to respawn in no time.
Cheater was no Guardian Angel; he wasn’t keeping tabs on the boy out of the goodness of his heart. His real reasons to rescue this newb were fully self-interested. Rescuing the boy wouldn’t be too difficult: the player was no longer making his foolish racket, and the surrounding infecteds were weak enough to take bare-handed. Beating these infecteds to death with his bare hands would reveal Cheater was a powerful player, however, so he decided against it. As much as Cheater wanted to save his distributable experience points, he had to spend those restricted to bonus stats, plus 4000 more from the universal distributable points. This was all to raise a stat he hardly prioritized. The only alternative, really, was to blindly wander the Cauldron, desperately pinging March’s chat over and over again. After two weeks of silence, it was obvious that his comrade had gotten into some kind of trouble. Cheater would have to actively seek him out, which meant communicating with other players. It was a good way to use his experience points,
Note: You have reached Stealth level 60. Level 60 Stealth bonuses unlocked: displaying false character information, displaying false character equipment information.
This second item was interesting, with qualities Watershed had neglected to mention. Cheater immediately set about experimenting, quickly managing to hide his pistol’s stats. At first, they appeared as follows:
Sievemaker, SIG Sauer P226 Pistol. Ammunition: Parabellum 9x19 mm. Condition: working. Negligible wear. Additional abilities: none. Special properties: special bot weapon. Two successful modification installatio
ns guaranteed. Modification list: Stone of Great Liberty, Piercing Needle, Emanation of Speed, Fireshock.
Modification Properties:
This item’s virtual weight is reduced by 82%. This weight reduction only affects carry weight and cache limit calculations. The attack power of the weapon is not reduced.
This weapon’s materials are significantly strengthened. They are harder to damage, and the barrel can withstand ammunition with significantly increased power.
Rounds fired from Sievemaker ignore up to 11 millimeters of any barriers, including physical ones, protecting the target.
A hit from this weapon causes a flash of unbearable pain. Even a slight injury can lead to loss of consciousness.
This item is bound. Current owner: Cheater. This item’s owner has named it: Sievemaker.
When he edited the inspect mode text, a curious effect ensued. If he clutched the weapon or held it in a holster, its description remained accurate. However, if the gun was placed on the ground, elements of the description grew blurry. This blurriness was for him, the pistol’s owner; for others, these blurry bits were replaced with utterly phony stats.
SIG Sauer P226 Pistol. Ammunition: Parabellum 9x19 mm. Condition: working. Negligible wear. Additional abilities: none. Improved weapons, with a 50% chance of accepting one modification. Installed modifications: none.
If the lies Cheater submitted were accepted, observers would see his gun as useless and hardly bother with it. Another detail omitted by this bonus was that the weapon was bound to Cheater. This didn’t surprise him; if it were known that he’d burned several hundred spores on the “worthless” weapon, the stats would be easily identifiable as sketchy. The process wasn’t as simple with the other items, however. Falsifying his rifle’s information was a tougher task. Its current description was as follows: