by Arthur Stone
Before nightfall, they conquered another hill—with the same disappointing result. Clown collapsed, exhausted, onto the trunk of a fallen pine. “So what do we do now? I suggest we rest. We’ve been on our feet for twenty-four hours. No sleep. This is a pretty peaceful zone, but it’s still the Continent. Anything can happen. We have to keep our energy reserves up.”
Cheater looked towards the eastern sky, scanning the next hill with his Darkvision. It was only a mile away, but the thick forest and his companion’s inability to see at night meant the trip would take at least an hour. Plus, he had no hopes that communications from that hill would fare any better. Something was wrong with the chat. He could correspond with Clown without any issue, but not with March. It was suspicious. He should have been less careful in Circus and directly questioned the old-timers. There had to be some explanation. Feelings of foreboding tightened hold on his throat. Something was very, very wrong.
Cheater mechanically ran his left palm over his right forearm. His hand, it seemed, was acting on its own accord once more, independent his brain. It may very well have been the smarter of the two. Cheater decisively pulled the Nold bracer from his inventory, equipped it on his right arm, then pressed it as Watershed had shown him. He confidently input, character by character, a long sequence: Kitty’s unique identifier. This unique ID could not be faked and could not be changed. It was fixed, for all of a player’s life...or lives.
Note: ID accepted. Object: immune. Humanity: low negative. Nickname: Kitty. Equipment unknown. High probability of unknown Continental combat abilities.
Note: Input this ID? Yes/No. You can make your decision now, or delay it until a more convenient time. Delay? Yes/No.
He chose “yes,” of course. This was not the best time to come under the attack of an invincible Elite Nold. The very next moment, Watershed’s prediction proved true. The wide bracelet pulsed, as if alive. Then, it began expanding up and down his arm. A couple of seconds later, it covered nearly all of the skin from his elbow to his wrist—then it abruptly tightened. A light flash of pain hit Cheater as the bracer dug into his skin, clinking softly.
Note: ID confirmation delayed. If you try to remove the bracer in any way, the ID you entered will be automatically confirmed. Please do not try to fool the device, as the consequences can be quite unpleasant.
Note: You have the option to hide the bracer. This will make it invisible to other players and characters at any time, and for any length of time. They will be unable to see, feel, or otherwise sense it. Note: This option may fail if you encounter players or characters with a very high Perception. Such players or characters may see the device!
That was convenient. Wandering around with a futuristic arm-size bracer was not ideal for someone trying to avoid attracting attention.
“What’s that clicking noise?” Clown asked.
“Nothing.”
“What do we do now? Sleep?”
“Yeah,” Cheater agreed. “Then we’ll keep going, assuming the chat still doesn’t work when we wake.”
“You really think it’ll just start working?”
Cheater shook his head. “No, I don’t. Something’s wrong with the chat…or with March. I don’t know which, but we’ll try to find out tomorrow.”
Chapter 27
Life Nine. Glass Factory
The Cauldron’s most populated stable was called Glass Factory. It was situated in the bend of a river flowing along the nearest normal cluster, which was a large cluster of unusual shape. Reboots resulted in the loss of most of the water, but enough remained to fortify the town on three sides. The fourth side was bound by a serious perimeter, and some defenses were visible covering the three river sides, as well. This was no Circus. They could certainly not sneak their way in. If the map was to be believed, March was somewhere beyond this perimeter, either camped in the central part of town or moving only minor distances. As the two developed their insertion plan, their first thought was to send Clown alone into Glass Factory. The Devils and their henchmen were not looking for him, after all, and no Wanted posters featured his face. Cheater was just about to agree to the plan…when an unexpected, unprecedented message appeared.
Note: Secret Hint activated. In order to complete your active quest successfully, it is recommended that you personally locate the player March in the town of Glass Factory.
Cheater studied the message for a moment. The quest’s reward was unknown and possibly superfluous, but Watershed had been confident that the hidden task was something Cheater simply had to do. Clown was naturally surprised when Cheater abruptly about-faced on their plans, announcing he would go to the town on his own instead. After his companion loudly aired his doubts about Cheater’s sanity, Cheater decided to answer honestly. “I have this quest… a hidden quest. It just gave me a hint. Something tells me I need to follow it.”
“Does it say you have to enter the town on your own?” pressed Clown.
“No, it doesn’t say anything about party size.”
“Then we go together. I want to laugh as you get captured at the first checkpoint, like the fool you are. It might get interesting. This isn’t just the Black Shirts we’re talking, here—there are plenty of actual Devils in this place. They’re observant, militant, motivated. This is a mistake.”
Cheater shook his head. “I have to go. There’s too much at stake, and it’s obvious that March is in some kind of trouble. I have to deal with this myself.”
“I said, I’m coming with you! Maybe the guards will be so distracted by my pretty face that they’ll miss you. We should change your appearance a little more, too.”
Cheater paused. “How?”
“We’ll start with a thin layer of shit, and then I’ll hit you with this rock a few times. The only thing you need your face for is to gobble down stew, after all. Useless part of the body. Come on, here we go.”
Fortunately, the fecal masks and rock mashes were a joke. Clown stuck a few lumps of cotton inside Cheater’s mouth and rubbed his face with some sort of willow plant; the resulting “makeup” left a yellowish hue which, combined with the volume of the cotton underneath, distorted Cheater’s appearance. It wasn’t going to win any Oscars anytime soon, but it certainly drew the eye less than Cheater’s suspicious bandage job. His cheekbone had not yet healed completely, instead fading into a pinkish scar, but he had no need for a bandage anymore. Scars were common enough on the Continent, anyway.
Cheater also adjusted his false stats, leaving his name as “Chester” but adding several levels. No Circus-dweller had suspected his false nickname; he hoped it would pass the test here, as well. Weighing the pros and cons, Cheater re-collected his sword from a nearby cache. Carried over his back, it should attract the bulk of any attention, leaving Cheater’s face and name unnoticed. He hid the weapon’s jaw-dropping stats, of course, but its unusual appearance remained. That was the last precaution it seemed they could take, out here in the field. The time had come to put these disguise efforts to the test. Cheater felt no fear. Even if he were recognized and assaulted, he had a cleverly-prepared grenade and his five-shooter in his personal inventory. As for the grenade: if he didn’t manage to kill his enemies, he could always off himself. They wanted to capture him, after all, and under no circumstances would he allow that.
* * *
They cleared the gates without any trouble. The Black Shirts idly asked if they carried any heavy weapons with them, as if they seriously believed grenade launchers could be carried covertly. Contrary to what Clown had said, no actual Devils were at the checkpoint—perhaps they didn’t consider it necessary to personally encounter everyone passing through.
They had to split up. Clown had managed to persuade Cheater to keep hidden while he conducted some preliminary reconnaissance. The center was filled with the Devils and their minions—the most risky area to potentially run into an observant player. Standing idle in the middle of the street was suspicious, not to mention boring, so Cheater chose a cheap eatery to wait i
n. He purchased some coffee and a hot dog and sat near a dusty window. He didn’t need to wipe it to see through it—after all, he could see with his Flash of Omniscience. He activated it as soon as he entered and re-activated it every five minutes, checking for any changes hinting at a narrowing circle of ambushers. This spent a large amount of mana, but he didn’t mind. As it turned out, he couldn’t examine a very large portion of the stable this way. He was interrupted.
* * *
Cloud returned half an hour later, bearing sensational news: “I saw March!”
A blindsided Cheater very nearly choked. “Where?”
“Come on, you know where!” Clown cheered. “At the place where his icon is located!”
“I know that. I mean, like, what kind of place is he in? What’s going on? Did you talk to him?”
“Dammit, Cheater—if you didn’t ask such obvious questions, I’d be telling you already.”
Cheater rolled his eyes. “Well?”
“We didn’t talk. I was out for reconnaissance, not for conversation. It’s a place like this; not quite as shitty, of course, but not great. It’s at least decent enough that it’s windows get dusted every once in a while. It’s not a luxury place, but it looks like it has its own brewery. That’s a March magnet! He was sitting out in the open, visible from a distance, with so many glasses on his table that I couldn’t count them all. I kept my distance, and I didn’t have binoculars. I would have approached, but you asked me to keep it on the down-low.”
“He was just sitting there, drinking?” Cheater gaped.
“Yes. Sitting and drinking. I passed it twice, making a loop; when I came back, he was still there. I didn’t cross to his side of the street, as we agreed.”
“Something is definitely wrong here,” Cheater confirmed, dismayed. “Yes, he certainly knows how to drink—but he also knows how to think. March couldn’t have just sat there in a beer-induced coma for two weeks. And then there’s the dim chat.”
“I’m just telling you what I saw,” Clown replied, hands up. “If you don’t believe me, go look for yourself… but I wouldn’t advise that.”
“It’s not that I don’t believe you, I just can’t for the life of me figure out what could be going on here! Everything looks quiet? Maybe he’s planted there as bait. They’re watching him and waiting for me. But how could they dim his chat like that?”
Clown shook his head. “I’m not sure about the chat thing. I don’t specialize in communications. It doesn’t look like an ambush. It’s just ordinary stable life, you know? Passersby, minding their own business? Nothing unusual. But I’m no sensor. I can’t see through walls, so I can’t tell you whether people are watching and waiting behind them. Also, I don’t understand how someone could force him to do something like that, when his ability could kill the whole city block in an instant.”
“No,” Cheater corrected. “His ability has a very, very long cooldown. He said as much.”
“That can’t be!” Clown replied, in disbelief. “He died, remember? You yourself should know that dying resets all cooldowns, and March died with the Unnamed One.”
“Strong abilities like that are exceptions,” Cheater insisted. “Otherwise, their cooldown would always be reset when they were used, making cooldown pointless. I don’t know how long, but I doubt it’s two weeks. He’s clearly vulnerable at the moment.”
“If he’s in trouble, then, why would they let him sit out in full view? They could lock him in a basement or something. We would see him on the map. That would draw us inside to look for him. It’s much easier to catch someone in a basement than out in the open. Something doesn’t add up here. I’m stumped.”
“That’s why I think they’re using him as bait. Out in the open, he doesn’t look so suspicious. Well, I guess I’ll find out. Here I go.”
“What? The hell you will! Devils are roaming every street, and they all want you!”
“If something goes wrong, well… I’ll handle it. Worst case, I blow myself up. It’s just one life.”
“Yes,” Clown acquiesced. “But remember, Cheater: these bastards are strong enough to keep watch over all of the nearby respawn points. Their search teams will begin working before you’re even back. They can find anyone they want badly enough. Every scrap of land west of the Phantom Forest is tightly controlled; even if you get out somehow, they’ll catch up with you eventually. You’ll lose more than one life.”
“What do you suggest, then, Clown?” Cheater shot back.
“I say we get out of here! Farther east, we hire a good team. Then, we send them here, with the task of getting March out safe and sound. No risk to us. You have enough money to hire half of the bloody region. We’ll lose time, yes, but we won’t end up ambushed.”
Cheater began to weigh how much time would be spent travelling east, but then re-read the System’s hint for his quest from Watershed. Yes, March’s behavior did not make sense. Something was wrong, and of course his first thought was a cunning ambush. No one wants to walk headlong into a trap. In the end, Cheater shook his head. “That would take too long. I have to go see him—now. You can wait here.”
“What? Wait here?” Clown began to stutter as Cheater walked off. “You’re really asking me to give up my front row seat? The hell I am! Now give our waitress a couple million spores for a tip, and we’ll go together.”
Chapter 28
Life Nine. Love, Peace, Beer
They noticed nothing dangerous on the street leading to March’s marker. Every twenty paces, Cheater activated Flash of Omniscience, but not once did he see a hiding band of heavily-armed players, nor did he see any snipers sitting up in any attics. There were no signs of ambush anywhere. Plenty of people were around, but neither his ordinary eyes nor his magical colored dots betrayed them as menacing. All were busy with their own affairs.
Cheater decided he should highlight weapons, not players. One of the notes attached to his ability said he might be able to see individuals hiding from sensor abilities in this way. He tried it—and immediately regretted it. This town was not Fifth Mine. Nearly everything was allowed through the gate. The average guns per cubic meter here had to be near double-digits. An abundance of flaming barrels assaulted his magical eyes. As he tried and failed to pick out suspicious accumulations of weaponry, merchant displays and weapon cabinets and stalls shone like the sun. The System’s suggestion was unhelpful, at least in this case. Perhaps it would be better out in an open field.
So Cheater returned to his previous tactic: scanning for players and watching for suspicious behavior. He used his ordinary eyesight to its full extent, too. Two women were walking towards them. They looked relaxed as they chatted; they yapped so passionately that they paid no attention to their surroundings. A man sat on the second floor of a house, near a window. All Cheater could see was his shimmering silhouette, but the player did not seem to be on his guard. He wasn’t even looking at the street—he just stared down at a tablet. Perhaps he was reading a book or browsing the stable net, a local version of the Internet that apparently included countless videos of girls—at least, according to an lascivious ad he saw hanging on the wall of the eatery. Then, an ice cream cart rumbled onto the sidewalk…just an ordinary ice cream cart. Behind it, a blond-haired kid in a dazzlingly-white robe peddled the cool sweets.
Cheater nearly licked his lips. He wanted ice cream. Yes, his Hunger and Thirst were now satiated, but he found his body doubting that the period of starvation was past. It demanded more. Perhaps he had unlocked a new ability: “Ravenous Maw.” It wasn’t shown in his ability window, though. Trying not to turn his head, Cheater squinted to the left. Even without the help of Clown’s prompts flooding his chat window, he knew that was the way to look. The translucent map overlay he’d locked in his vision made that clear. March’s location was perfectly visible.
A large establishment serving alcohol was situated across the road. Further down the street, another one was visible—a little larger, a couple of floors tall, but wit
hout an open terrace area. This one had seats outside. There, March sat at one of the tables. That’s definitely him! Even without a glimpse at his face, there was no mistaking him: his posture and clothing were enough. His was a new set, of course, but in March’s style. Cheater had spent far too much time with March to be wrong.
The area was out of reach of his Flash of Omniscience, but normal vision failed to show anything suspicious nearby. Clown was right: There were no signs of any ambush. At the same time, common sense and intuition shouted at him that something must be wrong. So Cheater suppressed his instinct to walk right over to his comrade. He would continue down the street, scanning everything thoroughly. Then, they’d return.
The locals wouldn’t notice anything strange about them turning around. There weren’t too many people here, but there were enough; most were hurrying about their business, no attention paid to anyone else. Plus, the road opened up into a square just ahead. According to the Clown, it was the big attraction in town. Captured NPCs were often executed here, their severed heads suspended from towering poles in hefty cages of iron. As Pear had said, parts of NPCs’ bodies didn’t crumble, if they were separated from the body early enough.