Respawn: 18 and Up (Respawn LitRPG series Book 3)

by Arthur Stone

  Attention, Novice: since your last respawn, your status has changed. You now have a new game option: choice of resurrection location. Two resurrection locations are available. Option 1: College Dormitory. Option 2: Active Construction Site. Please select a resurrection location. If you do not, Option 1 will be selected automatically.

  Cheater wanted nothing more than to never see the dormitory again, so he selected option 2 without hesitation.

  Choice of location accepted. You will resurrect in Active Construction Site.

  Attention, Novice: You are about to rejoin the Continent. Revive location: Cluster 282-79-176. Region: Interfluvial Steppe. Current revives remaining: 93 lives (initial value minus 6). Active quests: Survive, Search, Learn Secret, Help, Ask Correct Question, Find the Player Kitty. Current status: Game Start. The cluster will reboot in 95 seconds. Hint: pump your Strength and bind a valuable item to keep it in your personal cache when you respawn.

  Useless advice, as usual, but relevant. Cheater had lost a life’s supply of loot.

  It would have been funny if it weren’t so painful: naked as his birthday in the woods, burying a great treasure. Lifting his eyelids, Cheater saw that he was lying in a long room that was clearly non-residential.

  A primitive table and benches. Cracked plastic chairs, A low, beat-up sofa with torn upholstery, serving as a bed. On the wall, a coat rack bore dirty coats and orange working helmets smelling of dust, caustic chemicals, and cheap tobacco.

  Definitely not a dorm room.

  The system interrupted his exploration of the situation, unexpectedly displayed another message.

  Personal victory: immune Executive destroyed. Level 28. Attention: you managed to destroy an enemy after your death. As a reward for this, you receive more points for this victory than average, and all of these points are distributable. You receive 145 distributable base stat progress points as a reward.

  Congratulations! Keep scoring different kinds of victories to get more rewards!

  Some delay in his realization of what had happened was excusable, as he had just perished in protracted agony and then been brought back to life—but Cheater’s understanding was instant.

  The biker’s name had been Executive. He had fallen for Cheater’s simple trap and been blown to bits, following his victim to respawn before five minutes had passed.

  It was good news, but...

  Level 28 was high. This Executive was an experienced player. And now he knew where to find Cheater’s loot. He would get his bearings quickly.

  Cheater had no idea where his enemy had respawned, of course. And no idea where his cache was.

  He wrote a quick note to March before getting up, but didn’t expect a reply in any quick fashion. His comrade had been drinking at a stable, so he was probably still sleeping.

  Damn drunks. I need him now more than ever!

  “Yo beerbelly, write me as soon as you get this. Like, right away!”

  March’s response was immediate. “Beerbelly? Look, beer and I are close friends, equals. I can tell the beer to back off if I want.”

  Cheater smiled.

  “Can you see me on your map?”

  “Yes, I can.”

  “So where am I?”

  “Pretty far from where you were yesterday.”

  “Yeah, I know. Can you tell me where exactly?”

  “Why, what’s up? I just woke up here, still groggy, quite literally, yet you haven’t even wished me a good morning.”

  “Good morning, March. I was busy being killed last night. Well, closer to dawn.”

  “Who killed you?”

  “I don’t really know anything about him. Strange guy on a motorcycle. His weapon shot silently—all I heard was the impact sounds the bullets made. His nick was Executive.”

  “You managed to get his nick? What, did he shoot you point blank?”

  “No, it was from far away. But I saw his name in the victory log. Long story, but in the end, we finished each other off. I have to figure out where I was, and fast.”

  “You left your stuff there, I’m guessing. And you’re worried he’ll claim it.”

  “How’d you know? But yes, please tell me where I am in relation to the cluster I wrote you from yesterday. Anywhere close?”

  “You’re right next to the stable you were going for. If you hustle, you can make it to the stable in a day. Lucky you.”

  “I don’t want to go to the stable. Not yet, anyway. First, I have to get back to the place I died. The place where that bastard shot me.”

  “How should I know where that is?”

  “Remember when you told me about that road that basically goes straight to the stable?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Check your map. There was this railroad crossing, and then less than a mile later, a road running along a dam or dike of some kind. Reeds along the left, and an almost-dry lake on the right. Its water must have drained out since it was brought in. Just after that dam, I started climbing this hill, and that’s where I encountered the bastard. One half mile more, I hit an intersection with a wide, well-paved road. Those are the landmarks I can remember.”

  “Did you get far away from the city cluster?”

  “I’m not sure. I was in bad shape, March, so I barely managed to do what I did. Remembering it is probably asking too much. Maybe I went two hours, maybe three, but I never got above fifteen miles an hour since the rain was hurting visibility and I was not in the mood to crash into something.”

  “Rain? Hmm. We just got a few drops of that here.”

  “Save the weather chat for later, March. Find the place for me. Right now.”

  “Drop everything and stare at my map?”

  “Yes. March, this Executive and I are locked in a race now. But he knows where he’s going, and I don’t.”

  “I don’t have detailed maps for this road of yours, sorry.”

  “Dammit. Can you get one?”

  “I can ask around. Inquire after a few cartographers and all that.”

  “Do it. I’ll pay you back, and then some.”

  “You go ask around yourself, too.”

  “What?”

  “Switch your brains back on, Cheat. You’re a stone’s throw from a stable.”

  “How can you not see what I’m getting at? Executive could grab my stuff before I’m even on my way!”

  “Who cares about a pile of trash? Forget about it. All is vanity, remember? Except beer.”

  “I seem to remember you having clothes and weapons along with your case of beer. So alcohol’s not the only thing you value.”

  “‘Value’ isn’t the right word. Both clothes and weapons are a sad necessity. So get yourself to the stable.”

  “Quit joshing around. That bag has thousands items. There was a least one elite in that crowd, and some decent manmincers, plus dozens of lesser beasts.”

  “Trash. Like I said. Come on, you’re a lucky guy. You’ll find more. So get to the stable, alright? The beer is great.”

  “And how much beer can I buy with my bare ass? No, wait, don’t answer that. Look, I have nothing left. Or are you thinking of sponsoring me?”

  “Well, I’m not about to spoil you, but if I have to help you out a little, sure. I’m in debt to you, after all.”

  “Just help me by finding a decent map, then. For now, at least tell me which way I have to go to get to that damned road. Then I’ll just walk along it until I see something that looks familiar.”

  “Stubborn as a ram, you are. If you’re thinking of going in a straight line, go straight southeast. You’ll find your road in about fifteen miles.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. I shouldn’t have told you that. Now you’re going to be heading away from the stable. Waste of time. Vanity of vanities.”

  “Not a waste for me.”

  “Oh really? What did you do with the real Cheater?”

  “Huh? Are you saying something’s wrong with me?”

  “Yes! Don’
t you remember? You have this wonderful girl you’re looking for. She’s waiting there, you’re waiting here, and nobody knows why. I just find it strange.”

  “Since you like quoting Ecclesiastes so much, here’s one for you: Money solves everything. And I have a lot of things that need solving.”

  “Ah! Sounds like occasion for a drink.”

  “Go ahead. I’ve got places to go.”

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you when you lose another life. I’ll say it once more: Get to the stable, and fast. This place enforces the rules a lot more than in that last dirt hole. You might even find some comrades here. But I’ve told you that a thousand times. And you can chat with the merchants. Sometimes caravans go between regions. It’s a risky business, but a very profitable one. Hooking up with people like that will really increase your chances of getting through.”

  “They won’t take low-levels like me. Too visible. And I’m sure there are plenty of people in that stable who would be happy to capture me.”

  “You’re right about that. You’re so filthy, you attract flies no matter how clean the stable you’re in. But never visiting decent stables? That’s no way to live. Look, I’m tired of this back and forth. Talk to you later, OK?”

  A door creaked open, as if it knew our conversation had ended, and a plump man with a white hardhat stepped in. The stranger squinted his swine eyes at Cheater.

  “Sleeping on the job again? Get rolling before I write a report on you.”

  “Write one. Then shove it up your ass,” Cheater grunted as he rose.

  “The hell did you say?”

  “That you can wipe your ass with your reports.”

  “The hell?!”

  “You need it, I can smell you from here. Write it quick, so I can breathe again. Alright, listen, I recommend you head to a seedy place with lots of booze and girls. If anyone asks, well, I told you that you could. Eat, drink, and be merry, for today you die. And I’m not kidding. You don’t have much time.”

  Cheater pushed the confused pile of blubber aside as he exited the building and confidently headed for the site’s gate. Some kind of complex was being built here.

  It would never be finished, of course.

  * * *

  Cheater was much better prepared for this life than the last. He had learned a lot and would not repeat his stupidest mistakes from previous respawns. Perhaps his former intellect had not returned completely, but his wit was still a good deal quicker than it had been, and what mattered more, he had some experience. Plus five personal cells. Two contained spores, and the other three contained money.

  A narrow-minded immune would chuckle, asking why he didn’t just fill all five with spores. Or how he should have used at least a drop of his remaining strength that rainy night to dive into the bag of loot and pull out of a couple of the most valuable items. He hadn’t had the strength, and a couple of spores were enough to make it safely out of his respawn cluster. Besides, he’d almost certainly pick up a few more on the way out.

  Money was a different matter. It made life easier right from the start. Slotting some kind of expensive jewelry was even better, unless you ran into a problem flipping it quickly. Jewels weren’t accepted as payment in most places, and selling them could take an unpredictable amount of time. Plus, even the most benign commerce could be a headache when the power went out. Some merchants wouldn’t sell you anything at all when the register refused to open.

  Cash was your best bet.

  The hardware store already had its power back. Its employees had immediately fired up the generator, and it sat rumbling by the entrance. That was enough of an advertisement in and of itself—they had hung a “For Sale” sign right on the generator. A good marketing strategy for power outages, really, but Cheater still wasn’t tempted to buy one.

  Digis might.

  None of the staff had any complaints about Cheater’s business. Except perhaps the temporary doubt at the large bill he handed them, which was quickly nerfed by the application of a counterfeit detection pen. He bought a wieldy ax and a dozen weighty knives with thick blades. They were the perfect match for his throwing ability.

  The initial stages of urban chaos were perfect for looters, but Cheater would be content with minimal purchases. Searching for weapons could lead to all kinds of trouble. Trouble he didn’t need.

  He added a light backpack, some food and water, alcohol, and a first-aid kit for cars, after which it was time for the hardest part: searching for transportation.

  Transport was extremely important since traffic was the first thing that started to break down after reset. Cheater had learned that quickly. A bicycle was a good option. A way to quickly get out of the city with few appearances on the busiest, most dangerous streets. Even outside of town, it would not lose its usefulness. He could move much faster than someone on foot without firing up an engine to announce his presence to the whole region. A bike could even outrun all but the most dangerous ghouls, in the right circumstances.

  But no matter whom he asked, none could tell him where to find the two-wheeled friend he so desperately desired. Either that, or they gave him some unclear address on the opposite end of town.

  Cheater had to search for another option. A man dressed in a leather jacket ran right in front of him then, hurrying to a parked motorcycle. It wasn’t a bicycle, of course, but if he was looking to get out of the city safely, it was certainly superior to a car.

  Cheater’s killer would likely be heading there on a similar vehicle, so this kind of bike gave him a better chance.

  His first thought was an amicable arrangement. He could buy the bike. But the man’s hurry hinted that he would turn down any proposed dialog.

  So Cheater surreptitiously turned and clenched his fists as he approached, waited for the bike to roar to life, and surged forward with both fists into the man’s kidneys. A scream of frightened shock, and the man was subdued, offering little resistance as Cheater tossed him to the pavement.

  The thief jumped into the seat and carefully tested the gas. It was an unusual bike, and he didn’t want to stall it in front of many digis who had just witnessed his aggression and would be fighting with their moral indignation and their insanity both.

  Once he had a feel for the bike, he pushed it hard. The wind in his hair made him smile. A bicycle was arguably better, but this was at least much faster. How far away had March said the place was? Fifteen miles? Something like that. He could cover that in no time at all, as long as he didn’t run into one of the world’s most dangerous infecteds. The rest would be left in the dust.

  Cheater grew more confident each second, accelerating faster and faster. His victim and the witnesses were behind him, without any mobile signal to call the police. No one would punish him for his crime.

  Cheater liked the construction site much more than the dormitory. And he liked himself better now, too. He had quickly obtained the basic things needed for survival and a good method of transportation. Even if the roads became congested, he could cut through yards and parking lots.

  Nothing would stop him from exiting the city in a half hour or less. Perfect.

  He was just passing a parked truck as a red sports car poked out from behind it. The driver was apparently no longer in control, and driving at maximum speed.

  And cutting right in front of Cheater’s bike.

  The man accelerated furiously, hoping to beat the car and avoid an accident.

  He almost pulled it off. The car struck the bike’s rear tire. It was enough to send the world spinning wildly, until the approaching pavement knocked his consciousness clear out of his body.

  Or perhaps his life. He couldn’t tell yet.

  Chapter 11

  Life Seven: Imprisoned

  You’ve received a negative effect: Stunned. Current location: Cluster 282-79-176. Region: Interfluvial Steppe. Current revives remaining: 93 lives (initial value minus 6). Active quests: Survive, Search, Learn Secret, Help, Ask Correct Question, Find the Player Kitt
y. Current status: returning to game. You will remain stunned for forty-four seconds, though this time may change based on your game circumstances. Hint: Be wary of aggressive drivers operating all types of transport. Such drivers are often found in clusters which have recently loaded.

  “He’s OK. Just playing dead.”

  Cheater came to his senses, but he made no rush to open his eyes. Those around him may not be friendly. They could be the angry motorcycle owner and some friends. Or the police.

  Something that smelled of ammonia was pressed under his nose. Nobody could stay motionless after that, and Cheater involuntarily lunged his head away from the smell.

  His eyes flicked open, then closed just as quickly, driven back by a light bright as the sun. They tried to adjust, but he saw nothing for a few moments. He was in a large room, that much was clear, and he began to see figures.

  “Lump, abrasion, slight concussion. Be careful with him. Don’t hit him on the head too hard.”

  “Oh, hear it comes. I haven’t heard your dumb Gestapo torture jokes for a while now. So,” Cheater was pulled roughly, by a strong hand, “where were you going in such a hurry, with a backpack full of knives?”

  “Your wife called. Asked me to help shuck the corn again,” Cheater responded wearily, his eyes still closed.

  “That so? And I thought we had enough bad comedians here already. Hey Paul, toss this one in the cell across from the redhead!”

  The cops picked Cheater up under his arms, forcing him to stand, and then prodded him. He crossed the room and was sat down on another hard surface. After a metal screech, the loud noises stopped, and the manhandling stopped too.

  He opened his eyes to find himself on a short wooden bench, feet bound to the floor by metal cuffs. There were no other pieces of furniture in the tiny, square room with a single door on the side where jail cell bars had been installed in place of a wall. He could see a wide hallway out the door, and a similar tiny prison cell across the way.