by Arthur Stone
Ability cooldown: 10 hours. Cost: 20 Spirit of Styx. Sustain cost: Upon activating this skill, your character uses 3 Spirit of Styx every minute. Duration: Limited by your remaining Spirit of Styx. Every 10 Willpower levels reduces the cooldown of Chameleon by 30 minutes. Every 30 levels of Willpower adds 10 Spirit of Styx to the activation cost but reduces the per-minute cost to sustain Chameleon by 1 (with a minimum of 1). Note: These are the base stats of this ability. Real usage may vary.
You have grown stronger. Keep it up!
A very useful ability for a high-accuracy shooter, capable of killing dangerous targets from afar. With a decent supply of Spirit of Styx, or “mana,” this opened up so many new opportunities that he found his heart beating faster in anticipation.
However, it did require significant mana. Up until now, Cheater had put nearly all of his meter bonuses towards Pleasure. It had now reached 315, while Spirit of Styx was only at 152. Unless he boosted in, his Chameleon ability would not last an hour.
So, after some calculations, he put 11,646 distributable progress points into Willpower. His stomach fluttered at the massive pump, and he watched his Willpower level go from 35 to 60 in one swoop.
Now, Chameleon took 40 mana to activate but only cost 1 mana per minute to sustain. Its cooldown was now reduced to 7 hours, so he could use it three times per day.
Cheater spread the other five thousand and change points across his other base stats. He increased his Strength to 30, his Speed to 30, and this Stamina to 24. His Agility sat at 21. Suddenly, it became much easier to walk. His character level went from 23 to 33, from noob to decent level, in a matter of seconds.
Now for his auxiliary stats.
That was more complicated. He did want to pump all of his bonuses into Luck, but mana was still important. Cheater’s Ward of Styx was at a miserable level 9. Increasing it would grow his mana meter and improve its regeneration speed.
He pushed it to level 60, immediately regretting his haste. But his mana regeneration went to 12 per hour, and his mana meter went to 203. He poured all his free meter bonuses into mana, as well, and ended up with 228. Now, it would go from 0 to full in 24 hours.
Not bad.
Next, he proceeded to Reaction. That was only at level 15. Very bad. But it was one of the most important stats when it came to combat of all kinds. Spending so many points hurt, but he dump 7000 into it, bringing it up to level 40. That was nearly triple, which should improve his performance at times when high reaction speed was required. Dodging, melee, quick shots, and more.
At last, he spent the rest on Luck. That was his key stat, affecting everything else he did. Perhaps it was more complicated than simply “making everything better,” and usually it had little effect, but the power it gave to Smile of Fortune alone made him forget his frugality.
That raised his luck from 37 to 66.
Once he was done with his auxiliary stats, Cheater didn’t immediately feel the changes like he had with his base stats. That made sense. But his player level was now 33.
He looked around and realized he was lagging behind his mysterious comrade, with no idea what adventure he might be soon involved in. Behind, the bots were still engaged in a colossal struggle with some unknown opponent, and all around lay wilderness with neither food nor water.
Thankfully, their scales were filled at the border. He wasn’t very hungry. But a drink—that he could use, no matter what his Thirst said.
He checked again. It was dropping rapidly in the desert. Soon, it would really be a problem.
Chapter 27
Life Nine. Silent Desolation
Walking along rocky ground at night was no easier than pushing through dense thickets in the daytime. Each step risked a serious leg injury. But March made no moves to stop nor even slow his pace. He just continued on, pulling the group in one direction.
Cheater knew him well enough to be sure they were heading towards a precise destination. But if March did not take it upon himself to explain the details in depth, gathering info would be a painfully drawn-out process. Everything would be diverted to stupid jokes and complaints about the current party beer levels, until it was fully necessary for them to be brought into the loop.
One hour passed. And then another. Cheater had bruised his legs and lost three-quarters of his stamina. His Pleasure had slid down to the point where in a matter of minutes, penalties to his stats would begin accruing.
Never mind his Thirst meter.
He stumbled on, stupefied, like a lowly sheep following the herd master, all thoughts driven from his head by focused fog. Mental activity did, after all, consume energy. It was best to let his thoughts rest.
They began to walk significantly uphill, making the trek much harder.
At least there were no longer boulders under their feet.
March stopped and cursed, and there were sounds of him fussing and shuffling—along with a nasty-sounding hiss.
“Careful, I nearly stepped on a snake.”
“Where!?” Tat jumped.
“No idea. It slithered off somewhere.”
Cheater smiled tiredly. One of the bonuses he had earned might come in quite handy, as it turned out. A hot desert was just the place for venomous snakes.
As he kept pace with March, Cheater began to make some logical conclusions. If there were snakes, there were animals that served as their food. Those animals ate more than rocks and sand. They were a part of a local food pyramid, however small that was, and every food pyramid had water at the bottom.
Somewhere, there was water. Did they get it all from the morning dew? Or rare rainstorms? Or did they dig deep wells for themselves?
Enough. Thoughts of water just multiplied the dryness in his mouth.
When was March going to let them rest? One more minute of this, and Cheater would begin hatching plans for the brutal murder of his leader.
March seemed to be eavesdropping on his thoughts. He stopped and wrote a chat message.
Stay here for a couple of minutes. Stay quiet.
Cheater was ready to stand for much longer than that. Becoming a human pillar was, of course, an inadequate resting position, but it was better than traversing rocks in the dark.
His internal clock suggested that ten minutes had gone by, not two, when March sent a follow-up.
Seems like everything is good. Let’s go, but keep quiet.
The second part had already been clear to them. March hated using the chat, though he was the master of chatter. Whenever he wrote instead of spoke—especially to players a few steps away from him—it meant that absolute silence must be maintained.
They sneaked on. With no night vision equipment, Cheater vowed that if he ever had his pick of abilities again, he would choose something that let him see in the dark or some kind of sensor ability. Enough of this extended blindness. Even the sky was more guessed than seen. Clearly it was covered in some preposterously dense clouds. With no cities or other sources of illumination from below, there was nothing to reflect off of the bottom of the clouds, and no stars were strong enough to break through.
At some point, Cheater began noticing the terrain had changed. Mysterious objects rose into the air to the left and right of them. He could sense a cluster border up ahead.
Tat grabbed Cheater’s shoulder and began directing him, as she had done more than once before. She had an ability to see things, regardless of the lighting conditions. It didn’t apply to everything, and it only worked within a small range, but it meant she could move about in the dark.
After about half a minute, the pressure on his shoulder eased. Cheater stopped. He hated this place more and more. Walls or other obstacles on all sides. It was like a maze. The odor of decomposition irritating his nostrils also did not lead him to optimistic thoughts. If any infecteds were nearby, they would pay close attention.
Perhaps they were already here. Had March decided to lead them into a lair of beasts?
Why the hell would he do that?
He
was a riddle, as difficult to see through as the air around them.
The darkness dissipated in an instant. Cheater’s eyes teared up from the sudden light. He thought it a spotlight. It was, in fact, much more modest.
March held a tiny flashlight. Yet it was a versatile piece of technology. It could emit a narrow beam when needed. Or, it could cast a wide light, though much weaker in brightness, of course.
That’s what it was doing currently. Cheater blinked a few times and tried to take in the details of the situation. The area did not look like a labyrinth but like the inside of a small building with walls of clay. A poor man’s dwelling in Central Asia, perhaps, or in an arid region of Africa.
March looked around, just as fascinated. “Tat, are you able to tune your search ability and find beer?”
“I’ve found two bottles already.”
“Excellent!”
“Hold your horses, alcoholic. One has something like gasoline, and the other is holding water. I don’t see any other liquids around. What the hell is this hut?”
“I don’t know. It’s the only building for several miles around. Damn—if I had known there would be no beer, I would have taken us to a different place. How about we head out, then? We could get to that other place within the hour.”
“Then you go. I’m staying here,” Tat declared as she plopped down on a low, wide bench.
March sighed. “At least tell me where the water is, then.”
“There’s a bucket behind you that has a plastic bottle inside it.”
“This place smells like death. It’s dangerous,” Cheater said, though he also sat on the bench.
“Just sheep,” Tat explained.
“Sheep bones?”
“No. There’s a fenced area behind the house with several dead sheep. Or maybe goats. It’s hard for me to tell. Probably left on their own and died of thirst with no one to let them out. Then, they decomposed.”
Cheater gaped. “That never happens here. This is the Continent. Roadkill doesn’t lie around for long. And this is the borderland!”
March sat on a crooked stool and handed the water bottle to Tat. “Take a drink and pass it along. It looks pretty filthy. I’d keep my mouth away from it.”
They drank in silence and in small sips. Not to make the pleasant experience last longer, but because sometimes, that was a better way to quench your thirst when little was available. The water was mediocre. It tasted like someone had washed their hands in it—or something worse—with a strong soap. Cheater wouldn’t have even touched the bottle if he wasn’t dying from thirst.
Only after the last drop was gone did March voice what they were all thinking. “I’ve never drunk more disgusting piss in my life.”
“So what are our plans now?” Cheater tried to worm out of him.
March began to explain the details nobody wanted to hear. “First, we’ll get some sleep. We all need it. Plus, in the morning it’ll be easier to see. If those clouds give us rain, we’ll have some decent water to drink, too. Otherwise, we’ll just press on. About eight miles from here there’s something like a city. A part of one, at least, I think. We’ll find beer there, for sure. Or water. For those who want it.”
“Then what?”
“Then we continue on, in the same direction,” the boss replied with a pointer finger extended towards the wall on his left.
“Along the border.” Tat shook her head. “Why do we need to keep going along the border? Listen, I’m willing to follow you into fire and flood and all that, but it would be nice to know what we expect to find.”
“I’m glad you’re willing,” March replied. “When the time comes, you will do exactly what you need to do. Not much will be necessary. Don’t worry—I know what I’m doing. If this works, you’ll get rewards so rich that you’ll want to kiss me out of pure ecstasy. You think I came here for the two border crossings? That’s not what I want. This is a special place. Just the place I need. So do what I say, and all will be well. Now, excuse me while I sleep off the fatigue of the road.”
“Who’s got first watch?” Cheater asked.
“We’ll lock the door from inside and close our eyes. And sleep soundly, without interruption. We need a break. The windows are too small for anyone to get through, and they won’t break past the door without making a racket. Plus, I don’t think there’s anyone around to come after us. Sleep like you’re in a nice, calm stable. Good night!”
* * *
The night was an uneasy one. No one tried to break through the door, nor squeeze through a tiny window, that was true. The enemy was already inside. As it turned out, the hut was teeming with fleas, and they really liked the blood of their uninvited guests. Cheater guessed later that they had managed to suck an entire two cups of blood.
He would fall asleep, then wake up and try to catch the elusive little vampires, then scratch. Sleep was not as restful as he wished.
When he woke, it was from March’s scream. The boss jumped to his feet, shouting, his eyes bulging preposterously far out.
Cheater grabbed his gun as he leaped up and whirled his head around the room. There was no threat visible. “What are you yelling for?”
March ran a palm across his forehead. “It... it was just a dream. A very bad dream.”
“What, did the world run out of beer?” Tat yawned.
“Oh, go to hell,” March chided, collapsing back onto the bench.
Cheater did not feel well rested, but neither did he want to go back to sleep. He rose and exited the hut. Pausing at the threshold, he took a look around. It was the familiar desert still, except perhaps with more cacti, and dry grass here and there. Nothing threatening. Nothing even remotely interesting. Except, perhaps, the rusted skeleton of a car which had crashed into the wall some time ago. So long ago that it was crumbling from old age. Soon even its glass would be corroded away.
He was so thirsty that he thought about slamming his hand on the glass just to drink his blood.
Walking around the hut, he hoped to find a well, but found nothing but a wagon.
The smelly carcasses of several goats confirmed Tat’s supernatural vision. Clearly small birds or rodents had been at them, but no infecteds.
He couldn’t remember ever seeing a sight like it on the Continent. The ghouls could smell that odor for miles, easily distinguishing between the stench of gnawed bones and that of a meaty cow carcass. For some reason, they did not approach this hut’s treasure.
A drinking trough stood in a pen. Empty, of course. Still, its presence indicated that some pump or well should be nearby.
Cheater walked in a spiral leading away from the hut. He found the only road that connected it to the desert. Fifteen yards down, he encountered another cluster, but with no sign of water. Two hundred yards away stood a cell phone tower.
It would have been a crime to miss his chance to examine the area from such a height.
Once he was up top, he saw no signs that there was water anywhere within miles. Just the same desolate wilderness in all directions. Some high rise buildings were positioned in the direction March had pointed toward the night before. He found himself wishing he had brought his rifle up just so he could have used its sight to get a good look at the city.
Despite how difficult it would have made the climb.
Cheater stared up at the sky. Dark clouds moved along it, from one horizon to the next. So low, he felt he could touch them. Those clouds held enough water to cover the ground in a foot of water. But they were in no hurry to give water to the solitary plants, nor any drop to drink for the weary party. Everywhere he looked, he saw no sign of rain. There was no thunder, despite the menacing appearance of the sky.
Looking down, Cheater studied again the object which had first caught his attention. Once he was certain his eyes had not been playing tricks on him, he headed down the ladder, grabbed his rifle from its resting place on the rocky earth, and returned to the hut.
* * *
March and Tat were near the
drinking trough. They were, as predicted, quite upset.
Cheater could not resist making fun. “You’re kidding. You’re disappointed that you didn’t find more dirty water?”
“I was looking for beer, actually,” March returned unoriginally.
“Do they often give goats beer where you come from?”
“You never know. Maybe he was a millionaire who loved the wilderness. And inebriated livestock. A simple life, a simple hut, simple goods, and simple kills when he wanted meat. Makes sense to me.”
“Such a simple life would certainly require some water,” Tat noted.
“There are neither rivers nor lakes within ten miles of here.”
“Do you have a map?” Cheater asked.
“Where would I get a map? No one has ever wandered this wretched place.”
“You’re wrong.”
“What?”
“There’s a cell phone tower in the neighboring cluster. I crossed the border to climb it, but I earned no discovery achievement. Someone has already been to this area.”
“No reward at all?” March wondered.
“Nothing. As if it was a normal, inhabited area. No messages of any kind besides the standard ‘new cluster’ message.”
“Hmm. Even if you’re one of the first hundred or so visitors to a borderland cluster, the System makes note of it. Interesting.”
“Yes. And that’s not all that’s interesting.”
“What else?”
“Take a look that way. See those birds circling?”
“Looks like crows,” Tat mumbled.
“Or vultures,” March corrected.
“There’s a cow out there, dead. And it’s being eaten—by a pair of small dogs. The birds are waiting for their share.”
“What’s so strange about that?” Tat wondered.
Cheater pointed at the nearest goat. “Here, the dead are consumed by worms and vultures. Judging by the smell, these goats have been here for a long time. And those birds are visible from a great distance, yet no ghouls have come for the meat.”
