by Arthur Stone
Rock tried his best, but his response took at least thirty seconds to get out. “I’m no Houdini. I don’t know how to escape zip ties.”
A mere five seconds more passed. “Tell Globes you knew his father and mother.”
“Huh?”
“You are a total idiot. It makes perfect sense! Say something bad about his parents. You know, his mother was a prostitute, his dad was gay, and a eunuch, and his sister, well, make up whatever you want.”
“So he can shoot me right away?”
“Of course he’ll kill you, yeah,” agreed Kitty. “But he’ll untie you first. Globes likes to kill people with his bare hands. As if there’s honor in it. Watch out for the chops. They can take your head clean off.”
“Is that a joke?”
“Think I have time to joke with a novice idiot right now? Come on, do it quick, before the car comes back. There are five more inside. We can’t handle ten of them.”
Rock couldn’t believe Kitty’s words. Was she delirious? Speaking about somebody’s ancestors was always a bad idea. Too risky. And when the person you were insulting could decapitate you with one chop... He wouldn’t have even considered it, but he knew that the only reason he was still alive was that they hadn’t bothered to take the time. What other option did he have?
He needed to think carefully through the situation. But there wasn’t time.
“As soon as you have the gun, drop Globes. Then take out the rest. Don’t touch the one behind me. I’ll handle him.”
That message made less sense than the one before it. What pistol? How would Rock get it? What the hell was she talking about? She never explained anything. She just gave voice to what she hoped would happen in the near future. There was no hope of success for any team effort with this girl. The future looked mighty grim.
For Rock, at least.
But there was nothing else he could do. He allowed the group leader to finish his rebuke about the ill-repeated joke. Then, with the most serious face he could effect, backed by spiritual preparation for a cruel backlash, he said, “Hey Globes, I knew your dad.”
The boss slowly turned and asked curtly, “What?”
“I said I knew your dad.”
“And?”
“Nah, just saying. All the gays in the region used to come see him twice a day. And catch up with your mom while they were at it.” That had little effect on the man, so Rock kicked it up a notch, even though he realized he wasn’t being very funny. “Yeah, your parents were popular. The guys came from far and wide to this big sex parties on the street, right near my old apartment window. Sheesh, I can still see the marks and stains on the pavement in my mind. I saw them doing a foursome with your sister, too. But only once. I mean, forgive me for saying it, but she was butt ugly. Worse than scarecrow here.”
At all of that, Globes gave him a friendly smile, as if he had just heard a truly hilarious joke, not a humorless insult against his family. He shook his head with a wry smile. “Looks like we caught ourselves a clown, boys. Should we clap for him?”
“Just take him down. He’s asking for it,” one of the wood piles yelled.
“We don’t really appreciate clowns here,” Globes said with mock sympathy.
“Makes sense. Your childhood was sanitized of fun, I hear,” replied Rock. “I mean, all those ‘guests’ coming in and out, all day and all night, and you had to keep the house clean. And take care of your mom whenever the syphilis flared up.”
“You could have lived a little longer, you know. Listened to the smart people talk.” Globes sighed and reached for his pistol.
Damn! Kitty had assured him a tough hand-to-hand combat session would follow. And now he was just going to get shot. Unwashed fat little bitch, making stuff up like that!
Globes took out his pistol and then his knife. He placed both on a pile of boards, then one he had used as a bench at the start of the scene, then grinned and announced, “Somewhere in our hidden stats, there’s a hand-to-hand stat. You’re about to help me pump it up a little, zero. Such a tiny amount I doubt I’ll even see the difference in my menu, but hey, at least it’s something.”
Globes approached and grabbed Rock’s shoulder, turned him around without effort, then touching the plastic zip tie around his wrists. Rock felt a heat radiate through his numb hands, then a sharp pain, like a red-hot cigarette pressed to his skin. With a jerk, his hands were free. The person who had released him took a few steps back and explained his perspective on the situation. “I’ll give you one hit, out of respect for your... humor. I will just stand and take it, without interference. Then it will be my turn, and you won’t get another, because no zero can hope to withstand a hit from Globes. Well, go ahead. Delaying won’t help you.”
With those words, Globes presented and pointed to his cheek, as if teaching Rock where exactly to hit him.
Rock was in no hurry. He watched his enemy, realizing that if Kitty had been exaggerating, it hadn’t been by much. Globes, who had seemed only of average strength at first glance, was clearly a perilous fighter. There was something inexplicable about his every move, his every look, as if he had an aura floating around him that threatened anyone nearby with instant crippling or death.
Rock had never before met such a dangerous person. His scars were from soccer, not from violent bodily injuries. He had no doubt that hitting this enemy would accomplish nothing. The blow in response, though, would make him regret ever encountering this group even more.
His death was coming soon. He doubted that, after all of his insults, Globes would deny himself the pleasure of causing his suffering as quickly as possible after the first blow.
“Come on, baby, don’t be shy,” the smug bastard taunted, pointing at his cheek and squinting his eyes as if in anticipation of some great pleasure.
Rock finally realized that he had been hearing jingles for the past couple of minutes. He hurriedly looked at the chat, which was buried in the same message written over and over, dozens of times.
“Idiot! Have you given up on living? At least nod when you’re ready. And remember to catch! Don’t forget: Globes first. Well, come on! Now!”
Rock nodded without thinking. As usual, what else could he do?
Compared to the casual pace of the scene thus far, the events that followed moved faster than a stampede of rabid horses doused in gasoline and set on fire. And running downhill. With rocket packs.
Globe’s pistol, which had been relaxing on the woodpile, suddenly flew at him like it’d been scooped up by a hurricane. At the end of its short trip, it bumped into his hand, which Rock by some miracle managed to close around it. Not that he was ready for the catch, despite Kitty’s hints.
This was the first time in his life he had held a pistol like this, he knew that. But it seemed fundamentally the same as any ordinary pistol. He flicked the safety off without a problem and pulled the trigger.
The first bullet hit the farthest opponent. Rock hadn’t forgotten Kitty’s demands that he hit Globes first, but he wasn’t the one to be most afraid of at the moment. A self-assured karate fighter was less of a threat than six opponents with machine guns. As he saw the bullet turn the man’s nose and everything behind it into an explosion of blood, Rock spun, shooting a bullet at Globe’s head on the way around, then pointing at the second machine gunner. He was not at the ready, but he was still dangerous, since his weapon was close at hand.
But for some reason Globes didn’t fall and instead tried to dodge any future bullets. Rock suspected something was amiss and turned, seeing Kitty holding a man with an unnaturally twisted neck on the ground. The man was dead. Kitty flew at incredible speed, unexpected for her bulk, then leaped to the side to crash into another submachine gunner who hadn’t yet gotten his weapon up.
So she’s cool after all.
Rock didn’t see what happened next. Suddenly, the world disappeared in an instant, and darkness took him. There was no pain and none of the other harbingers of a return to his dormitory. It was like Dea
th had simply flipped his switch.
Attention: you are dead. You have 2 Strength progress points, 1 Agility point, 2 Endurance points, 25 Luck points, and 1 Talent Rank point.
Note: You died too quickly. The location has not yet processed the data from the battle. Try not to die so quickly. Dying quickly can cause a delay in the calculation of rewards and can prevent you from collecting your loot. Time to respawn: 144 seconds.
What this time? How had he died so quickly?
But did it really matter? At least he hadn’t suffered at all. Plus, he had managed to cap a couple of those bastards. He saw his bullets hit them square in the head. Surprising accuracy. His killer must have been Globes. But he was sure Globes had been hit by his shot—he was much closer than the others, after all.
Oh well. Rock had died again, but at least he had gone out with a bang. Or two.
Chapter 12
Life Five: Fools of a Feather
Welcome, Novice. You are joining the Continent. Revive location: Cluster 197-33-02. Region: West Coast. Current revives remaining: 95 lives (initial value minus 4).
Active quests: Survive, Search, Learn Secret, Help, Ask Correct Question. Current status: Game Start. The cluster will reboot in 96 seconds.
Hint: some of your opponents may have supernatural abilities (special Continental skills). Keep this in mind and try to eliminate these enemies first, or they might cause you some unpleasant surprises.
What was that hint about? He got the impression he had made some kind of critical mistake, but what?
Rock began to open his eyes. He was on a bunk, like all of the other times, but as he started getting up, he froze. A strange trembling, both pleasing and terrifying, ran through his body. He had never felt that before. The air in the room flashed for just a moment, and the light congealed into a new message.
Personal victory: immune Cliffbird destroyed. Level 29, Humanity: moderate negative.
Personal victory: immune Rails destroyed. Level 41, Humanity: high negative.
Party victory: immune Conductor destroyed. Level 37, Humanity: moderate negative.
During battle, you displayed high speed, accuracy, agility, and reaction time. +154 Agility progress points. +39 Speed progress points. +172 Accuracy progress points. +33 Reaction progress points. +282 Humanity points.
Level up! Current level: 1.
Note: You have leveled up for the first time! Remember that leveling up unlocks additional benefits. That was a great fight. As a bonus, you receive 50 base stat points to distribute. Congratulations! Keep achieving great things to unlock more rewards!
More babble, with no one around to explain any of it. But since the original news was no longer there, perhaps his situation was changing.
Rock opened his eyes. Nope. One glance at the ceiling was enough to tell him this was the very same dorm. Who cared if the inscription on the glass was decent this time? Or what his perpetually sleepy and perpetually useless roommate’s hair color would me?
It was all the same.
So he was in this damned dormitory, his fifth stay so far. The fun was about to start. Too much fun for Rock’s taste. So now he had to figure out how to escape this trap yet again, and then to deal with aggression from psychos and monsters both.
Last time, he had gotten himself into an unexpected bind ten miles out of the city. But he had a lot of new experiences now. The local immunes who knew so much, that group he would not be opposed to joining, might in fact be as hostile as those bastards at the lumberyard.
How could he distinguish the decent ones from the real monsters? He didn’t know for sure, but a bit of deduction gave him a likely answer. That information window on immunes included a “Humanity” rating. He didn’t know what the hell that was, really, but he had noticed that bandits and robbers all, without exception, had negative Humanity. Even Kitty. But those who had helped him out, even those who later abandoned him like Horsefly, had all possessed positive Humanity.
So he should probably avoid the people with a negative score. Maybe that was all just a coincidence, of course, but he was not prepared to experiment.
Rock got up and barked at the stirring blankets of his neighbor. “Stay there and keep your mouth shut. I’m not in the mood to talk today.”
“What was that flash?”
“Must have been those asshole sparks of yours again.”
“What the f...”
“I said shut up!”
He had no desire to hang out with a digi, especially one with such a boring behavioral algorithm. It would just be wasting time.
His rudeness worked. No one bothered Rock as he tossed on some light clothing that looked appropriate for late spring, or maybe early fall. As he stepped into the hall, he ignored the questions from the anxious students about the power and the Wi-Fi. All of their similarities with real-world people were just pre-programmed. They were robots with standard behavior templates. They could switch from one routine to another, but that was all. And the further he progressed in the scenario, the more primitive they became.
The weather outside was not only overcast but foggy. Dense waves of mist rolled along the streets. There might have been smoke mixed in with it, too. A vaguely familiar sourness irritated his nostrils, some kind of chemical cloud, or perhaps smoke from a fire ravaging a chemical plant or train.
Rock was only a half dozen steps from the dorm when he realized how stupid he was acting. He had no idea where to head from here. He had to find another student equipped with a tablet. His last life had granted that student a detailed map that showed him which way to go.
Turning, he noticed no such promising young people in the area. I should wait by the dorm for somebody to show up. He could avoid losing time by checking out the menu. Back when he was hastily arranging things on Kitty’s instructions, he had noticed a number of interesting-looking features.
Hmm. How was the crazy bitch doing, he wondered? Maybe he still had some of her messages left.
Rock activated the chat and saw a flashing line labeled with his recent acquaintance’s name. He was surprised that the conversation had not ended after his death. What’s more, the notifications hadn’t worked. So much for the green bell.
There were three hasty, unclear messages for him. All in pure Kitty style.
“God, you’re dumb! Are you a digi in disguise?” “I told you to take out Globes first! And don’t even start on how you took down those two imbeciles and how that’s something.” “Not gonna write back, shitface? Oh wait, that’s right, I bet you’re typing a one-sentence reply. Meaning I’ll get it in a few hours.”
Rock wanted to snap back at her, but he realized that gentlemanly behavior was a better choice. Whatever else was true, Kitty was his only contact at the moment. She could help him figure out his predicament. So his reply was almost kind.
“Sorry, something wrong with this system. The notifications weren’t sounding.”
“Duh. Forgot you were a moron. Click the wrench-looking icon left of the chat window. That’s the chat options. Check the ‘always notify of incoming calls’ box. Where are you?”
“The usual. A shabby dorm for the mentally retarded.”
“Always the dorm? Right. The system doesn’t trust the dumbasses to pick their own respawns. How high did you say your luck was?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“Fuck, man. I’m even a little sorry for you. Of all the pitiful losers I’ve met here, you’re the lowest of them all. I mean, I’ve heard of worse, of course, but never have I seen it for myself.”
“Can’t you go insult somebody else for a change? Or am I the only other real person left in the world?”
“If you don’t like me, just leave the party, turn off the chat, and blacklist me. I doubt we’ll ever cross paths after that. It’s tough to find someone who’s blacklisted you. So, is this where I say goodbye to the moron?”
“Not quite yet. I don’t even know how to leave the party or find my blacklist.”
“And
here I thought you were starting to figure things out. You’ve got a problem, moron. You’ve been killed almost thirty times, but you haven’t increased a single stat over that whole time. So your progress points all look terrible. Only your Luck has gone up, and Luck is basically worthless. Usually newbies die five times, maybe ten, before they actually start thinking. Some manage to boost their stats and level up before they even get their first death! Others aren’t so lucky, but only a few ever make it to fifteen deaths. But you’re the unluckiest of all. You leveled up, I see that, but that means your Luck won’t even go up now, no matter how much you die. A moron pumped from zero by killing moles. Nobody’s gonna believe that.”
“Moles? Who are they?”
“The freaks you shot. They were moles. They call them that because—” she hesitated. “It’s a long story, and you’re too dumb to get it, anyway. Where are you?”
“By this stinking hostel, like I said.”
“Where’s that?”
“Somewhere... somewhere in the city.”
“Street name?”
“Thirty-first. Where are you?”
“Where I’m supposed to be. So you’ve got two options, moron. The first is to seek your own way. Do whatever you want, pump whatever you want. So far, it looks like you just want to pump your idiocy. Meaning you’ll hit respawn again. And again. And again. The second way is for me to help you get out of there.”
“Why would you do that?” asked Rock, doubting her intentions.
“Well, first off, you did in fact help me at the lumberyard. It’s too bad you were fool enough to ignore Globes like that, but thanks for taking the other two down, at least. Good shot for a dumb zero, by the way. They were pumped up pretty good. We bled them. They got us, but we took three of theirs with us, and with nothing but our bare hands to start with. So things didn’t turn out too badly. Could have been better, but when fate gives you a dumbass, you gotta expect dumb shit. Second, like I said, I almost pity you. Twenty-eight deaths! Fuck, man. Twenty-eight! Why the hell did they put you in here, anyway? Did you break the world dullest dumbass record? Enough nonsense, you hear? You don’t get infinite respawns, you know.”