Hero

by Dan Sugralinov

  “Six!”

  I struggled to see through the red haze filling my eyes. The Sledgehammer was standing proud with his arms raised.

  “Finish him off! Finish his off!” the crowd bayed.

  “Sledgehammer, I love you!” a girl’s hysterical voice yelped. “Screw me!”

  “Seven!”

  “Kill him! Kill him!”

  His toe touched my face. He lowered himself to one knee and raised his fist for the coup de grace. Why wasn’t the ref trying to stop him?

  “Eight!”

  I closed my eyes to await my fate.

  Then something changed.

  Time slowed down.

  A healing wave rolled through my body, extinguishing all the debuffs, removing fatigue and restoring Vigor. My Vitality bar was full again.

  My eye opened. My nose could breathe again. My ribs had stopped hurting.

  I could make out an unmoving figure amid the raging crowd, her hand reaching out to me.

  Ripples of healing auras flowed from her fingertips, aided by flashes of new buffs: Righteous Anger III, Fury, Defender, Adal’s Hand, The Touch of Mother Nature. Between them, the buffs had doubled all my stats, improving Regeneration 1,000%. Those were only short-terms effects — but I didn’t need much else.

  “Nine!”

  The Sledgehammer’s fist was two inches away from my solar plexus. I twisted, rolled over and jumped to my feet, casting a quick glance at Ilindi standing there in her usual guise. She gave me a faint nod and disappeared.

  Silence fell. Under the crowd’s astonished gaze, the ref ordered us to carry on. What a slimeball. He was worse than useless in this fight.

  I pounded the astounded Sledgehammer, my hands moving so fast I could only see the blurred images of their passing, each of them meeting their mark and stripping my opponent of 5 or 6% Vitality.

  My uppercut found his chin just as the bell rang.

  I scanned the crestfallen crowd, noticing anger in the stares of those who must have backed the wrong horse. They couldn’t wrap their minds around what they’d just witnessed. A total beginner who’d only been boxing for less than three months (they’d paid a hundred bucks for this tip) had been playing the punch bag for the entire match only to rise from near death a second before his defeat and shred the favorite.

  I studied their faces: some drunk, other sobered; some handsome, some not so, yet other addicts of the plastic surgeon’s scalpel; some grim, others cringing; some serious, other gloomy. They thought they had life by the balls, their faces as dead as their souls. You can neither change nor shape them: the swollen parasites on my country’s festering body.

  If I could only keep the interface after the license expired!

  I didn’t have the time to ponder the thought.

  In deathly silence, the ref announced me the winner. A girl in a non-existent swim suit climbed into the ring and handed me a tray with my prize money. Five wads of hundred-dollar bills.

  Julie would live.

  * * *

  TOWARD THE END of the next week, Julie and Kostya had had their Schengen visas and booked their tickets on the first available flight out. The rest of my winnings went on boosting my company’s future. Rose put the money through the books while Mark penned a loan contract. We expected the funds make a return by next year, payable out of our profits. We’d decreed that the company would first pay me off, then decide how to distribute the rest of the available money. We’d use some of it to develop the company further while distributing the rest between all the shareholders depending on their input.

  Veronica offered to take us to the airport. Our entire office wanted to see my friends off but I used my director’s clout to stop the circus and make them work. Kesha was completely snowed under with new contracts and desperately needed help, forcing us to advertise for more sales reps, so everyone was busy from dawn till dusk interviewing new candidates.

  The whole way to the airport we only talked about how things would turn out once Julie got better and they’d come back. We’d already decided that Kostya would work with us managing our web site. Veronica promised the girl she’d take her to the movies and attraction parks. The little girl smiled dreamily, apparently unused to such attention.

  In the airport, Kostya took his sister by the hand and headed off to check in, throwing us a nonchalant goodbye. In his mind, he was already in the clinic.

  We watched them leave hand in hand. Their only suitcase was on its way to the hold. Julie was clutching the doll Veronica had given her; Kostya was carrying a battered backpack.

  He turned and saw my clenched fist raised in a salute. He nodded and raised his hand too.

  We drove back in silence, each thinking their own thoughts. Veronica cast occasional glances at me but my face remained unperturbed.

  We were already halfway to the city when Mom called me. She knew Kostya and Julie were about to fly off but she didn’t know where the money had come from. Hopefully, she’d never find out.

  “Did you see them off, son? Everything went okay?”

  “Yes, Mom, I saw them checked in. Everything’s fine.”

  “Thank God!” I could almost see her make the sign of cross on the other end of the line. “And you, how are you? You were sort of sluggish last night. You sure you’re okay? Even Dad noticed it.”

  Last night, Kostya, Julie and myself had gone to see them. The girl had wanted to say goodbye. Kesha and I had spent the whole day rushing around on business meetings so no wonder I’d appeared tired.

  “Sorry, Mom. I had too much on my plate.”

  “You need to get some sleep, my boy. You’re a director, after all. If you don’t turn up for work, nobody will say a word.”

  I chuckled. Veronica cast a curious glance in my direction.

  “Okay, Mom. I’ll do as you say.”

  She rattled off a whole bunch of tips, then promptly said goodbye and hung up.

  I shoved the phone into my pocket but it immediately started to vibrate again. The number looked weird and abnormally long.

  I answered it.

  “How do you do?” a soft female voice said with just a trace of a foreign accent. “Can I speak to Mr. Philip Panfilov, please?”

  “Speaking.”

  “I’m Angela Howard from the Embassy of the United Sta-”

  The world stopped dead. The forest landscape behind the car window was like a freeze frame. The call time counter on the phone screen didn’t move. Veronica slackened her hold on the steering wheel, her mouth half-open.

  My breathing stopped halfway. My body couldn’t move. My mind was the last to be paused.

  I sank into the great nothing, my body pierced by icy needles.

  The world blinked. And then...

  ...I FOUND MYSELF snowed under a whole lot of debuffs. Just like the last time, it was Intoxication, Paralysis, Dehydration, Starvation, Feebleness, Mind Suppression and something else...

  “Abduction complete,” a genderless voice said out of nowhere.

  “The subject has regained consciousness,” that was Ilindi.

  “You can remove all the DOTs and debuffs,” Valiadis ordered. “We all know the subject. We can skip the initialization.”

  A silvery haze enveloped me, penetrating my skin, then re-emerging, tinted with the red and black strands of the DOTs. A healing green wave ran over me.

  “Accepted,” Khphor’s voice echoed in my head.

  They brought me back to normal. I got up.

  Ilindi was wearing the same light-blue evening dress, only this time her hair was not platinum blond but all the colors of the rainbow.

  Valiadis was wearing a gun-barrel blue armored suit. I’d love to know where I could get one. Further on stood the ten-foot alien: Khphor from the Senior Race of the Vaalphors.

  “Human, you know what to do,” he stated.

  “Be brave, human!” Ilindi encouraged me.

  Valiadis only nodded. His face betrayed his anxiety.

  I nodded back to t
hem and headed for the wall, its shiny white texture reminiscent of reptile skin. When I’d approached, it had split into two as if sliced by a knife.

  I checked myself out. I seemed to have everything on me: Ilindi’s red wristband as well as the ring of Veles. The Netsuke Jurōjin that I’d bought from the antique shop was working its magic at home, keeping me supplied with Luck.

  I entered the opening without looking back.

  The wall was now behind me. In front of me lay a long winding corridor less than 7 foot wide so that I could touch its sides with my outstretched hands.

  This time I wasn’t in a hurry. I advanced slowly, studying the floor, the walls and the ceiling. After about 150 feet, I saw my old friend.

  Acid Jelly

  Level 17

  Its level had risen, too. Did the Trial’s difficulty levels reflect my progress?

  I kept looking at the acid creature. The name tag above it swung round. Another line had made an addition to it:

  Fear: 100%

  It was afraid of me!

  Slowly I advanced, focusing on everything I could see. When there were only thirty feet left between us, my eye noticed a tiny bump in the smoothness of the wall.

  I stepped back and touched it. My hand disappeared into a void. I took my hand back and the hole in the wall closed up, growing a leathery film over the gap.

  I dove into the hole, finding myself in a small pocket behind the wall. I stood there trying not to breathe. Soon I saw one of the jelly’s tentacles slither past, followed by the rest of him.

  The creature oozed past.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. The way forward was free. Had this been the extent of the Trial?

  Whistling happily, I carried on down the tunnel. Soon it widened out; it was now broad enough for a dozen jellies abreast. I walked calmly but warily, regaining my common sense. This wouldn’t be the end of my problems.

  A few hundred feet further on, my enhanced Perception allowed me to notice a strange intricate pattern covering the floor, made up of the thinnest dark lines. When my foot was about an inch away from them, my Intuition screamed like a Banshee.

  I slowly withdrew my foot. After some consideration, I took off a sneaker and threw it in front of me onto one of the lines.

  The shoe fell into two halves the moment it touched the floor, the cut tracing the shape of the curved dark line.

  I spent the next half an hour sweating like a pig and doing a balancing act on my heels and toes, negotiating the treacherous course. That done, I slid down the wall and just sat there resting without a thought for the time.

  Having restored, I kept going.

  A few dozen feet further, I stopped again. Something felt wrong. I could sense just a hint of vibration at the very edge of my senses. The smell was different here too, suggestive of ozone.

  I took a step back and had a think.

  I removed my other sneaker and threw it forward. As it hit a certain point in space, it crumbled to dust which sank to the floor as a flat two-dimensional spot.

  My socks were the next in line. The first one suffered the same fate as the sneaker. The other one, however, landed safely on the floor.

  Good. What I had to do now was determine the width of the safe passage. I took my shirt off and ripped it at the seams, then started with the right-hand side of the tunnel.

  Dust. More dust. And again.

  The remaining right sleeve stayed intact. I drew a mental line, determining the width of the safe corridor. It was barely three feet wide. I’d have to negotiate it sideways. I just hoped the corridor didn’t meander.

  The vibrating air crackled as I cleared the tricky course.

  I took another breather to restore Vigor. They hadn’t told me anything about any time restrictions. Still, knowing these so-called researchers’ tendency not to inform me of any rules, I’d rather get a move on.

  I stood up and walked further.

  For a while, nothing happened. I carried on, the leathery floor warm and springy under my unstockinged feet. I waved the remaining shirt sleeve in the air to fan myself. I was hot.

  After a while, when I’d already started to think I’d been going round in circles, I noticed the sweat dripping into my eyes. I wiped it away with the sleeve in my hand but only began sweating more.

  The air temperature had considerably risen. Still uncomprehending, I stood stock still and listened hard. Somewhere behind my back, I could hear a steadily increasing rumbling sound.

  I turned round. After a moment’s hesitation, I snapped out of it and ran for my life.

  A wall of fire was chasing me, its heat singeing my back. I put on a spurt and really legged it — but the flames threatened to overtake me.

  I could have said that it was licking my heels but it wasn’t. My entire back was on fire, my hair crackling, my ears burning. My fear of death had resulted in the buff of the same name, adding me strength and new characteristics. I couldn’t read them though, I was far too preoccupied with saving my skin. I just closed the message window and bolted as fast as I could.

  No idea how long I kept this game up with the wall of fire. It felt like several hours — but later when I’d finally outrun the chasing flames and the wall of fire had expired on reaching a certain point in the tunnel, I collapsed in a heap to the floor and couldn’t move for quite a time.

  Once I’d caught my breath, I finally looked at the interface clock. It had been less than four hours since the Trial had started. It had been three and a half the last time I checked which meant that I’d only been running for a quarter of an hour, no more. Having said that, I’d run very quickly.

  For the next half-mile, I was really careful. I checked my every step, warily studying all about me, sniffing for any suspicious odors and listening intently to the silence. I didn’t seem to detect any threat.

  I could already make out the end of the tunnel when a pile of stone blocks barred my way. They were impossibly smooth and so polished as to have razor-sharp edges. They were of different sizes, looking as if someone had been playing a 3D game of Tetris, the smallest of them weighing in at at least 120 lbs. The bigger ones I couldn’t even budge.

  I thought hard before eventually coming up with an idea. I laid a layer of the smallest blocks, then rolled the bigger ones onto them, cutting myself on their edges. Despite dropping a midsize block onto my foot, I gritted my teeth and carried on with my giant puzzle.

  I’d already realized that each of the tests in this Trial had been measuring a corresponding characteristic. The Jelly had checked my Perception and Empathy; the complex pattern of lines had been testing my Agility as well as Luck, and repeating Perception again. The wall of fire had proofed my Stamina. And these blocks here must have had something to do with my Strength and Intellect.

  This barricade of blocks had proven to be the most time- and energy-sapping. Dismantling it took me over three hours.

  When I’d finally taken everything apart, feeling utterly exhausted, I saw a narrow crack in the wall just wide enough for me to squeeze through.

  Grazing my skin, I forced my way through it and found myself in a narrow elongated hall. It was lined with the same stone blocks. I could just make out two oval spots of color by the far wall. They were taller than a regular human. As I approached, I noticed that they flashed, pulsating with all the shades of the rainbow.

  My interface identified them as “portals”. They seemed to be emitting a weak glow: one of them red, the other bluish.

  Which one was I supposed to choose? I walked around the hall, studying its walls which were perfectly smooth with barely any visible joints. Having discovered nothing of use, I returned to the portals.

  Blue or red?

  The turquoise blue or the burgundy red?

  Somehow I preferred the latter.

  I walked towards it and touched it with my fingertips. My heart missed a beat as it sucked me in.

  I was standing at the edge of a forest, wearing only a pair of tattered jeans. I was look
ing at the world as it really was, without the interface. All the icons and indicators had disappeared. I couldn’t move as something seemed to be holding my feet. The same could be said about my whole body: it seemed to have turned to stone.

  A few feet away from me, a message appeared in the air,

  Congratulations! You’ve successfully passed the preliminary selection!

  You’ve been admitted to the main Trial.

  Candidate evaluation complete

  Character generation complete

  What? This hadn’t been the Trial?

  The message dissolved into thin air, replaced by a new one,

  The Trial will begin in 3... 2... 1...

  End of Book Two

  August 2017 — January 2018

  Almaty

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  Phil’s stats as of the second book's end:

  Philip “Phil” Panfilov

  Age: 32

  Current status: entrepreneur

  Social status level: 17

  Knowledge Seeker. Level: 13

  Classes: Boxer, Empath. Level: 11

  Divorced

  Children: none

  Achievements:

  Altruist (+1 to all main characteristics at every level gained)

  The Fastest Learner (10% to skill development rate)

  Main characteristics:

  Strength: 13/32

  Agility: 11/31

  Intellect: 20/48

  Stamina: 11/33

  Perception: 15/32

  Charisma: 17/36

  Luck: 14/72

  Heroic skills:

  Lie Detection: 1

  System skills:

  Insight: 3

  Optimization: 1

  Heroism: 1