I wasn’t at all surprised, glimpsing Alik walking toward me from a distance. I already had a few ideas regarding his quest. Now was the perfect moment to check them while he was still on his way.
I opened the interface. Where was that map now?
I highlighted all the supermarket chains I’d studied the day before, then added a new search filter: “stock worker wanted”.
Almost all of the stores remained on the map. Excellent.
“Oh Phil, hi man,” Alik said, about to give me another bear hug.
“Hi, wait a sec.”
I entered another search parameter, “90% probability of hiring Romuald “Alik” Zhukov.”
Bummer. All of the stores had disappeared from the map.
“You all right, man?”
“Yes, wait!”
I brought it down to 80%. Nothing. 70%: still nothing. I dropped it down to 50%.
A lone marker lit up: a large wholesale store in the industrial zone.
“I think I’ve just found you a job,” I said. “Stacking shelves in a store, would you mind doing that?”
“I wouldn’t mind doing anything at the moment. I’d be happy just cleaning toilets.”
“Have you even been to the North industrial zone?”
He scratched the back of his head. “Sure. Is that what you mean?”
“Why not?”
“Is there anything closer to home?”
“You’ve got a cheek, you! Which home? You don’t have one, do you? You might just as well rent something for yourself in that area.”
“All right, all right, keep your hair on.”
“There’s a supermarket there that needs a stock man. The name is Underground. Think you’re gonna try for it?”
“Absolutely.”
I gave him a critical once-over. Misshapen track bottoms, an old T-shirt and a pair of old socks in his sandals. Still, he looked fit and strong, that was the most important thing. “Did you drink anything today?”
“Only last night.”
“What did you drink?”
“Just a beer,” he said.
Still, I could feel his embarrassment. “What, for a starter? And then what, a couple of vodkas? I suggest you keep a lid on it for the time being or you might not last. You’d better put some decent clothes on, too. How about your identity papers?”
“I’ve got my ID and a proof of address. No driver’s license. What do you want me to wear?”
“I don’t know. Haven’t you got any jeans or something? And a decent shirt.”
“Eh,” he faltered. “I think I’ve got a shirt but it needs some mending. I’ve got a pair of jeans though.”
“Come with me,” I said.
By then, Richie had already done all his business. Alik and I took the elevator to my apartment.
I rummaged through my stuff until I found a blue dress shirt two sizes too big for me, a birthday present from one of Yanna’s numerous family still in its transparent packaging.
“Try this on,” I told Alik. “The sleeves are a bit too short... never mind, you can roll them up later. Actually, it’s not so bad.”
“I’ll bring it back,” Alik said without taking his eyes from the mirror. He looked a different person.
“Just keep it. It’s brand new.”
“Thanks. Who do I need to speak to?”
“Just go there and ask to see the manager. Tell them that you know they need a stock worker and that’s why you’ve come.”
“Should I mention you?”
“No. Just say you want to do it. That’s it, I must be off. You too, smarten yourself up and off you go!”
As I walked to the office, I couldn’t stop thinking about Vicky. It wasn’t love, of course, but still. She gave me this good feeling. My heart warmed when I thought of seeing her. Would I be able to invite her to my place? Would she run in horror on seeing my bachelor’s den?
Finding a new place was getting a bit imperative.
OUR OFFICE RESEMBLED the film set of The Walking Dead.
My groaning co-workers stumbled about, weakly pretending they were busy. The water cooler was in overload as everyone hurried to quench their hangover thirst. Max, our system administrator, gulped beer from a large coffee mug. At least I thought it was beer, judging by the badly-concealed open can stashed away behind his server cables.
Greg arrived, lugging a large suitcase. He looked grim and decidedly misanthropic.
On seeing me, he cheered up a little. “Hi Phil. Remember how good it was last night? That’s exactly how I feel now... not.”
“Is it so bad? Did you drink too much?”
“I wish. I stayed in the restaurant with the guys for a while, then we all went to that karaoke place. I came home and the door was locked from the inside. Alina refused to let me in. I crashed out right there on the stairs. When my alarm went off I couldn’t work out where I was and what I was doing there. I had a filthy taste in my mouth. My whole body was aching. I was thirsty as hell. And then I discovered this suitcase on the steps next to me. What could I do? I tried to knock some more. As if! Alina just wouldn’t answer the door. I have no family in town. I thought I might pop in at a friend’s, to clean myself up and leave my stuff there but he’d already gone to work.”
I wasn’t used to seeing him so lost. “That’s tough. You should make it up to her somehow. Just to wash away the guilt, you know.”
“Don’t,” Cyril’s sleepy voice butted into our conversation from a nearby desk. “She’s probably not worth it.”
“But that wasn’t even my fault!” Greg protested. “What’s there to make up for?”
“There’s no guilt to wash away,” Cyril summed up with a yawn and a stretch. He was wide awake now. “But I know somebody else who might do with a wash... you stink like a polecat, you.”
Greg raised his arm and took a sniff. “You think? Anyway, what about you, Phil? Did you take the girls home?”
“Depends what you mean.”
“No way! Don’t tell me you all ended up in bed together!”
“Yeah right. I slept through the entire journey. So in the end it was them who took me home, not the other way round. At least I got some sleep.”
Greg’s face betrayed relief. I knew it. He was after Marina himself, jealous bastard.
I still had some time before the briefing to pop into the HR and fill in my job application. Because, all things considered, I’d decided to stay here for a while.
A rep’s job didn’t require staying in the office which meant I could spend some time doing my own things. I really should help Marina find some clients, land a few for myself, receive my J-Mart bonus and keep an eye on Greg while I was here. Cyril too seemed to be okay. Not sure if I could become friends with them all but I quite liked spending time with them. It wasn’t often I enjoyed talking to someone IRL.
The thought of losing my old online friends still smarted. What a shame I’d lost contact with them. I really should get in touch with them and invite them somewhere.
As I submitted my job application to Vicky, she was all businesslike. I couldn’t agree more. I did like the girl. If things didn’t work out between us, that wasn’t the reason to ruin her reputation. Also, I still didn’t know what company policy was regarding corporate affairs.
“Phil, welcome to Ultrapak! I’ll send you your name badge as soon as it’s ready. Please leave your contact information with Daria our office manager so she can order your business cards.”
“Thank you very much, Victoria.”
As I walked out of the room and out of sight of her workmates, I gave her a wink. She flashed a smile back.
During the briefing, I managed to offer a couple of useful suggestions. Afterward, a new message popped up,
Congratulations! You’ve received a new skill level!
Skill name: Communication Skills
Current level: 5
XP received: 500
I had mere 150 XP left till level 7. That was peanuts. Such r
apid progress in less than a week made me regret the years I’d wasted playing WoW.
During the briefing, I also arranged it with Pavel to become Marina’s mentor. Dennis didn’t like it at all. He flared his nostrils out of spite but didn’t object.
“You think you can do it?” Pavel’s voice rang with doubt. “You’ve only been working here since yesterday yourself.”
“Your product is easy to sell,” I said. “It’s just as good as everywhere else but its costs make it very interesting for the buyer. Plus you have an impressive client list. Yes, I think we can do it.”
Pavel nodded and moved to the next subject on the agenda. Greg’s eye twitched. Still, judging by Marina’s stats, her Mood was now close to Happiness.
We spent the rest of the morning meeting with clients, lugging around bagfuls of samples, stacks of price lists and reams of business proposals with our contacts on them. I used my interface to calculate the optimal route between hundreds of small and middle-sized businesses in need of packaging deliveries. Bakeries, delicatessen shops, online takeaway joints, small restaurants... at the moment, they were all buying their packaging materials at prices much higher than we had to offer.
We didn’t bother to call them to arrange a meeting: we just arrived on their doorsteps and asked to see their bosses. If we could, we spoke to them; if not, we left them our samples and paperwork. Marina spoke little, preferring to watch me until finally I suggested she did the pitching. We hadn’t closed any sales yet but we’d laid a solid groundwork, sowing the generous seed of future success.
In the early afternoon, we returned to the office to have lunch with the guys and renew our stock samples. Cyril joined us. I got the impression that his relationship with his other co-workers wasn’t too cordial.
The inexpensive but filling lunch finally brought about my Lack of Sleep debuff. Still, its effects were neutralized by the fact that Mr. Ivanov must have just signed my employment order, judging by a new system message,
Task Status: Get accepted for the Ultrapak job
Task completed!
XP received: 210 pt.
+10% to Satisfaction
As I rose from the café table, a new message made my legs buckle under me. I collapsed back into my seat, struggling to preserve a poker face.
Congratulations! You’ve received a new level!
Your current social status level: 7
Characteristic points available: 1
Skill points available: 1
Holy mama mia! Social status 7! I’d very nearly caught up with Yanna!
“Are you okay, Phil?” Marina asked anxiously. “Cyril! Greg! Come and help him-”
“It’s okay. My leg’s gone numb, that’s all. Come on, let’s go now!”
I’d have to distribute the available points some other time. It went without saying that the new skill point allowed me to activate Optimization which would in turn allow me to finally get rid of my old gaming skills.
One thing I didn’t know was how the skill redistribution was going to affect my physical state. I might just collapse in a heap and remain comatose for forty-eight hours, you never know.
Next question: which of my skills and main characteristics should I invest in first? I needed some quality time to think about it. I entered the task into my logs. The importance of this decision couldn’t be overestimated.
After lunch, we continued pitching. By the evening, we’d met with barely ten of all the hundreds of potential clients. We had more work than we could manage.
As we parted ways, Marina stood on tiptoe and gave me a peck on the cheek. “Thank you so much. Have a nice weekend!”
“My pleasure. Try to get some rest. Monday’s gonna be hot.”
She laughed. “Yes, boss!”
Cyril had already invited Greg to stay over. One problem less. But as for Cyril himself... his Vitality had dropped another 1.5%
Before leaving the office, I took him aside and suggested he see the doctor. I had no doubt that all the excessive drinking the night before must have taken its toll, but still.
“Oh, come on, Phil!” he replied skeptically. “I don’t need a doctor to tell me I have a smoker’s cough. All they’ll do, they’ll tell me to quit smoking. I don’t need to pay a doctor to tell me that!”
I got really angry. “Will you please shut up? This isn’t a joke! You’re coughing your lungs up! Go and have a checkup. I know of a clinic I’ve just been to myself.”
“Jesus. Now why do you care? What’s your problem?”
“You are my problem. Please go and have a check.”
“I’ll think about it. Give me the address.”
“And the phone number. You need to make an appointment first. Tomorrow, if possible. They’re open on Saturdays. There’s a doctor there called Olga Shvedova. She knows what she’s doing. Go and see her.”
“All right, all right.”
“Give her my regards. She probably remembers me.”
Cyril nodded. Greg waited for him patiently, hugging his suitcase.
Task Status: Ask about Mr. Cyrilenko’s health and suggest he makes an appointment with the doctor
Task completed!
XP received: 100 pt.
+5% to Satisfaction
I rode the elevator with some of my other workmates, including Vicky. I waited till no one was looking, then mimicked dialing an imaginary phone and pressing it to my ear.
She gave me a barely discernible nod. Her eyes laughed.
I hitched a ride back home. I stared through the car window at the cheerful Friday crowds celebrating the end of the weekly grind and looking forward to a night of beer and clubbing followed by some quality sleep and an entire weekend of doing whatever they pleased.
Me too, tomorrow I had a movie date with Vicky. The thought filled me with similar exhilaration even though I’d only been working for the last couple of days.
I dialed Kira. She started talking the moment she picked up,
“You coming? Have you finished working? Mom has cooked enough to feed an army! What time do you want to leave? Would you like me to pick you up? We still need to buy a cake!”
“Hi,” I replied. “Yeah, sure. I’m going home now. I’ll walk the dog and then I can come.”
“Excellent. I’ll be at your place in an hour and a half.”
As I walked toward my house, I noticed some drunken merriment going on in the pavilion. I took a better look. There they were, Yagoza and Co, complete with the beaming Alik still wearing my shirt.
I headed toward them. Alik walked over to greet me.
“Phil!” I could see he was sincerely happy to see me. “They’ve hired me! Imagine! I start Monday!”
“Congratulations! Well done!”
“Thank you!” Alik said, then added guiltily, “I had to buy the guys a drink to celebrate.”
I hadn’t received any quest messages though. Apparently, he had to be officially hired for the quest to close.
He stank of booze. I knew of course that he was celebrating with the money I’d given him.
“Well, listen, you’re a grownup man and can take care of yourself,” I said. “You do what you want but-”
“There!” someone shouted behind me, then slapped my ears quite hard with both his hands. “Scared, ain’t you? So you should be!”
I swung round. The guy gave me a chop under the chin. My eyes watered with the pain. I received a debuff to Perception.
Covering my ringing ears, I looked around me in search of the guy who’d done it.
I didn’t have to look far. A filthy drunken character was standing in front of me, guffawing at his own “joke”. His eyes were mere slits in his fat face.
The entire pavilion guffawed with him.
Their stupid “joke” had become the last straw in the recent succession of dirty tricks others had played on me. I went into Enrage mode.
Clumsily I attempted to punch him, investing all my strength into the blow. My badly-aimed fist barely grazed h
is cheekbone. Immediately he punched me in the liver, knocking the wind out of me. I doubled up and dropped to the ground.
Alik stopped him before he could kick my head, “Rus, are you nuts? This is Phil!”
“I don’t care if he’s your grandmother!” the alcoholic growled.
“Leave it, Alik,” Yagoza wheezed. “Your nerd isn’t worth it. Come on, don’t spoil the party. We’ve plenty of drinking still to do.”
“Did you hear?” the fat drunkard said to Alik, slurring. “We have a good thing going, don’t ruin it! Let’s celebrate!”
I focused on his stats. Ruslan, age: 36, unemployed.
I remembered the two swindlers who’d tried to buy my computer off me. That one was also called Rus — a Rustam or something. I didn’t seem to have much luck with the name.
The pain in my gut was excruciating. I waited for it to subside.
Alik left me and rejoined his buddies.
Chapter Eighteen. The Best Intentions
“Parents are like God because you wanna know they're out there, and you want them to think well of you, but you really only call when you need something.”
Chuck Palahniuk, Invisible Monsters
I’D ONLY FOUGHT twice in my entire lifetime. The first time was in kindergarten when I and some other girl squabbled over a toy. The second time was in college over some girl with another guy who was puny but quite testy. I'd lost both times.
The third time was no different.
I lay sprawled on the ground. It felt so unfair that I very nearly opened the interface, itching to activate Optimization and invest all my available points into some combat skill. Still, I forced myself to act rationally. I needed to get a grip. My attacking the drunkard had been a very stupid thing to do in the first place.
So I opened the logs instead and stared at the damage stats :
Chopping blow (44)
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