A Second Chance

by Vasily Mahanenko

  “Have you? Really? What was all that about then?” I turned round to her, maintaining my plaintive expression.

  “How could I not have done it if grandma was listening to you? It’s just that the guys said you were… old… um… you had an inflated ego… and you were just mocking us. And I thought and thought and decided to leave. Maybe you’d forget…”

  “Fine. Let’s say I believe you. Chapter one, paragraph three. Define your own character type according to values-based orientations.”

  “Easy!” She smiled and adjusted her wayward hair. “Somewhere between realist and traditionalist.”

  “It seems you have learned it. Question two. Chapter three — today’s topic. Paragraph two. Define the most effective means of manipulation for your character type.”

  “Appeal to sense of duty. You have to make me believe somebody’s fate depends on me, and… I knew it! Brody, that’s… that’s not fair!”

  The clever girl turned crimson with indignation, and I didn’t conceal my victory smile.

  “Now I can see you’ve learned the theory, but I don’t agree it’s not fair. You heard for yourself I’d get the job if, among other things, I taught you. I simply hyperbolized your significance a tad. Now we’re going to put our methods of manipulation into practice. I’m going to feed the other students to the lion — that’s you. Attack! Manipulation, Helen, is something people use all the time to achieve their goals. But not always maliciously. You’re judging me now for my dishonesty, while you’re no angel yourself. Who’s just been singing my praises and lying? The student utterly deserves the teacher.”

  Helen blushed and said, “Forgive me. I won’t do it again.”

  “I forgive you, but I will do it again. And more than once. There’s a new task for tomorrow’s lesson. Here, learn this.”

  “Just the one?” Surprised, the girl took the piece of paper. “What’s this?”

  “Your role. Tomorrow we’re going to study conflict, and you have to yell this at me. Think you can do it?”

  “Can I do it?” Helen repeated the question enthusiastically, scanning the text, her expression becoming excited, even predatory. “Of course I can, Brody. What if I get carried away and start improvising? Would that be a problem?”

  “As long as you keep it decent and remember that if you start shouting, your grandmother will come running. Other than that you have complete artistic freedom. And stick to the main plot line,” I sniggered.

  “I understand. See you tomorrow.” With that, the girl with the off-white mop ran off to rehearse her premiere role. And with a sense of a duty fulfilled, I went to find out why the terms of my socialization had been unilaterally altered. Maria wasn’t around, so I was forced to go and see the boss.

  “Hello. Is Mr. Williams in?”

  “He’s gone to a meeting,” Victoria informed me. “Is it about the changes to the agreement?”

  “You’re uncannily discerning and well-informed.” I looked with interest at the secretary-cum-lawyer-cum-God knows who else. No matter what you asked, Victoria had all the answers. Some kind of joker in a skirt. Maybe it was actually her in charge, rather than Williams?

  “Maria didn’t have time to speak with you herself, so she asked me. The company is aware that the original agreement was violated, but there was no alternative to the amendment made by the Barliona management. Otherwise we would have been deprived of the possibility to monitor the socialization progress of all our candidates. Surely you don’t think you’re the only one socializing this way?”

  I shrugged my shoulders as if to say I hadn’t thought about it. I couldn’t care less about everyone else.

  “As compensation you are permitted to remove any one of the ten points, except for the one that has been amended. Do you agree to that?”

  I was tempted to haggle for eight instead of nine, but I resisted. The Corporation had only altered one point, and offered me the chance to remove one, and of my own choosing. It was totally fair, and it wasn’t worth getting fresh, or else they wouldn’t hire me.

  “I agree. Can it be documented?”

  “Naturally.” Victoria nodded calmly. “An additional agreement has already been drawn up.”

  I arrived home in an excellent mood. Matty and I had lunch together, then dove into our pods — him to study, me to hit Barliona. Eredani was waiting for me.

  Chapter 4

  “I SEE YOU WERE in no hurry,” Eredani greeted me. Barliona returned me to the same place it had let me go — the barrack. My partner was lying on his bed and studying the ceiling, still oblivious to all. The reason for this was the Vartalinskys, who were hanging around outside the barrack windows, finding fault with every player who walked by.

  “On weekdays I’m busy until lunchtime,” I said, explaining my absence but deliberately not going into detail, so as to define the limits of our collaboration. “Any news?”

  Eredani sat up and scratched his ear pensively.

  “Marcon’s worked out five of the fifteen obstacles on the basic course. He needs another three days for the rest. The Phoenixes and the Dark Legion have already got wind of us completing the newbies’ course, and I’ve been approached with an offer to buy the dance. I promised to think about it. Don’t scowl like that. Sooner or later everyone’ll learn the details. If we can pass the basic course with bonuses, I reckon we should sell the information while it’s fresh and worth something. I’ve made an agreement with Marcon that he’s only going to work with the clans via us. In return he’ll get thirty percent of sales, plus I’ll help him with school of Rivaldo Master’s-degree training sessions. That’s all my news. Any objections?”

  “None at all.” I was in complete agreement. “Did you figure out Gurt’s interest in dancing?”

  “Not yet. I had more important things to do. Look, this is a crude map of our island.” Eredani unfolded an image on the bed. Part of the training camp was more or less detailed, but most of the rest was an empty oval, the only features being some hills and a mysterious red ‘X’ in the north-west.

  “The Vartalinskys weren’t around at the weekend, so I had a stroll around the camp, chatted to the locals. I can’t say it was profitable — nobody here’s going to open their mouth without an incentive, but I did glean something useful. Nobody goes near the hills to the west — great fat mobs and it’s a long way from the camp. I think we need to look for our dungeon there. I saw lots of level-six graduates and even a couple of sevens. You can’t level up like that near the camp. What I’m trying to say is we won’t get to the dungeon just the two of us. The mobs will eat us. We need a team, but I don’t know how to put one together yet.”

  “Marcon?”

  “We need about ten players,” said Eredani shaking his head.

  “You sure know how to stump a guy,” I said. “We’ll get back from Hermit and check out some people. Then we’ll have a think.”

  We were about to leave the barrack, when through the window we saw the Vartalinskys had waylaid a player and were gesticulating wildly to make a point. “Have they been here long? The beasts of the Abyss not enough for those vampires?”

  “Two hours. As soon I got back they made a beeline for me. I barely made it into the barrack. They wanted to follow me in, but couldn’t, and now they’re lying in wait out there, wanting to get even or have some more fun. Young thugs. Living proof that idleness and money corrupt the youth.”

  “Don’t whine, you sound like an old man,” I said, wincing at his complaint. “How are we going to get out?”

  “I am an old man. We need to think. How much time have you got today?”

  “Plenty, but I don’t want to go nuts, I have work tomorrow. Maybe we could buy some of the armor and weapons people have dragged out of the Abyss? We don’t want to be stuck in this hole like rats.”

  “No.” Eredani’s response surprised me. I thought the tiefling would be glad to boost his strength and survivability at my expense. “I had a look at what they’re offering. Nothing but r
ubbish. Nothing even remotely like your pickaxe. If you want to kit yourself out, you’ve got that telephone number. Only I don’t know how much beginner-level, full leather armor costs nowadays. Prices in Barliona have changed drastically since the update. One piece of advice — don’t spend any money. Did you see the graduates’ clothes? You can’t buy that, you can only hammer it out. Don’t forget, in the next couple of months, maybe even weeks, we’ll level up a few dozen times, and everything you buy will have to be thrown away or sold for peanuts.”

  His words were uncomfortably true, which dinted my self-assurance. Everything was right there in plain sight, so why hadn’t I made these logical conclusions myself? Was I getting old or something? Or perhaps my brain wasn’t working after my spell of exhaustion? Exhaustion? Oh no! I’d completely forgotten to check the records. I went straight to Settings, warning Eredani I would be busy for a few minutes. A search of the key word “exhaustion” produced only one message:

  Attention! Your body’s limit for transmitting impulses from the game to reality has been exceeded. You are strongly recommended to exit the game and reduce your transmission threshold to Rehabilitation level.

  I looked at the other records from around that time, and sighed as I recalled there had indeed been a message. As I was plunging down the abyss, shaken by the jump and the pain, I’d accidentally swiped the warning window to the side, and afterwards conveniently forgotten about it. Yet another game reminder that my horns were no accident. What a doofus!

  Eredani patiently waited out my investigation before asking, “Is there something I should know? To avoid surprises.”

  “No, it’s personal.” Again I thought divulging details would be superfluous. “Shall we go then? Hermit will be tired of waiting. We’ll take the Vartalinskys with our bare hands!”

  As I stepped out of the barrack, my body was seized with an unpleasant sensation. Those jerks had found a way to damage me after all. I bent over, heaving, sensing the proximity of a very powerful Light object, and heard satisfied chuckles from away to the side.

  “Well hi there, cloven hooves! Not feeling too well? Should we call the instructor?” The Vartalinskys were enjoying from a distance the spectacle of a fallen tiefling.

  My eyes were welled up with tears, but my peripheral vision could make out a small ring swaying off to my right. If it wasn’t for the wind, the artefact would have been difficult to spot. Well done lads! They had learned from their mistake, and were now afraid to hold the Light in their hands. My nausea was crashing down in waves — the closer the ring was to me, the worse it became. I heard a dull “Oof, ahhh!” behind me as Eredani left the barrack and also felt the Light. He sank to the ground, and all I could think of was to shove him back into the building with my foot. My hoof struck his jaw, and he groaned again as he disappeared back inside. Not great, but my intentions were good.

  The Vartalinskys produced peals of idiotic laughter at the sketch. I wanted to wring their necks, then wait for my next rebirth and wring their necks again. I was convulsing now not from the Light, but with rage. Before that moment, if someone had told me I was capable of such strong emotions, I would never have believed them. Motivated by my anger toward those fools, I reached for the ring and pulled it off its rope, all but losing consciousness. The Vartalinskys were silenced. Looking in their direction, though seeing nothing for the red mist, I threw the booty into my inventory. Eat dust, bastards! You picked a fight with the wrong guy. I felt better immediately, and not just psychologically, but also physically. There was no aftertaste from the evil ring in my virtual pocket.

  “Hey!” Braksed flew to my side and said, “Return the ring, goat-man!”

  My body was still shuddering from close contact with a Light object, but I ignored it and glared at him, my horns lowered and ready. Sensibly he took several steps back, and, figuring he’d had more than enough of my attention, I called to Eredani, “Let’s go, we’re expected.” My partner was back on his feet and waiting for the end of the show. It was a good thing I hadn’t kicked him too hard.

  “Are you deaf or something?” Braksed couldn’t decide what to do next. He was afraid to approach me, but he couldn’t lose the ring. “Return the ring! It’s worth more than you’ll ever earn in your life.”

  We moved silently toward the exit from the camp, the Vartalinskys following us but scared to come closer or get in our way. “We’ve put you on a counter, you freaks!” shouted Kurtune. “You owe us twenty coins and the ring. If we don’t get the gold today, tomorrow it’ll be twenty-one!”

  “Twenty-two!” Braksed corrected him.

  “The counter increases by two coins every day,” agreed Kurtune. “You have no idea who you’re messing with.”

  Eredani: Aikido? Karate?

  Kvalen: Difficult childhood with an elder sister. We survived as best we could.

  I was still slow at typing, but when the occasion arose I tried to hone the skill. Eredani read it and laughed throatily, wiping his face.

  Eredani: At least the action movie ‘Brothers and sisters’ is more interesting than the drama ‘Fathers and children’.

  Kvalen: Are you talking about yourself?

  Eredani: I’m talking about the adolescents back there. Give me a description of the ring. What are they so worked up about?

  Large platinum ring of Eluna

  Description: An epic object. Encrusted with a Drop of Eluna, the ring emits Light, stripping dark entities and demons of their power and desire to do evil. Level requirements: 250. Creator: the Mahan

  Intellect: +20

  Stamina: +20

  Faith: +10

  All dark entities and demons within twenty meters of the ring receive a Weakening debuff, reducing all characteristics by 40%

  All dark entities and demons within twenty meters of the ring receive a Giddiness debuff, reducing all characteristics by 40%

  Once every minute, the player receives a Blessing of Eluna buff, increasing damage inflicted on all creatures by 20%. Buff action period: 10 seconds

  In my opinion, the characteristics were astonishingly low for a ring of that level worth ten thousand gold.

  “So that’s how they did it,” muttered Eredani. What he meant by that, I decided to find out later.

  To the accompaniment of the half-witted youths’ primitive threats, we left the square, skirted around the instructors’ barrack, and arrived at the gate. The perimeter of the training camp, with the exception of the part which bordered with the Abyss, was marked by a three-meter palisade. The exit was closed by a gate and guarded by unfamiliar demon hunters and several priestesses, all NPCs.

  “Exit prohibited until completion of courses!” said a guard menacingly, blocking the Vartalinskys’ path.

  “How come they can leave?” complained the youngsters. “They haven’t even completed the basic course.”

  “They can leave,” the guard confirmed, and opened the gate for us.

  “Return the ring!” shouted Braksed one last time as we exited the camp.

  The world around us, together with its soundscape, changed as if we had left the grounds of a verdant Egyptian hotel for the inhospitable clutches of the barren desert. Only instead of the odd date palm, there were gray spiniform cactuses with no needles, a vibrant purple sky, and red rocks and sand beneath our feet. The background mountains alone remained the same as when I’d seen them from the temple on my first day of immersion.

  A flickering dome fully protected the training camp and its plentiful greenery from the impact of the local climate. Leading away from the gate, a well-trodden path forked after approximately thirty meters, one prong heading straight for the mountains, the other turning to the right, rounding a small hill, and disappearing into the gray cactuses. The hill was topped by the picturesque ruins of a once great fortress, amid the stones of which could be seen the figures of graduate players. The howling of the dry wind was cut with explosions, the players’ cheers, and the death rattles of demons. The fiefdom of N’Got was go
ing shamelessly to rack and ruin, until such time as its leader could harness enough power to return to Barliona.

  “Fu…” Eredani flopped to his knees and lit up. His Cartographer level had jumped up to two. I wasn’t so observant and still had 172 points to go. Watching him languish was not pleasant, so I turned away, but he soon revived and stood up next to me to see what was happening among the ruins.

  “Shall we go to the fortress?” I asked.

  “On the way back. I have no abilities — that’s minus one. You have an uncontrollable demon — that’s minus a half. Half a warrior instead of two is not a condition I’m willing to sign up for.

  “We could enlist somebody to the group,” I said, seeing a player called Diabettis approaching us. He leaped dextrously and landed on a small mob, squashing it flat. His next jump, bolstered by a quick spell, destroyed a jug-eared demon venturing out from some rocks. The hunter acted in a supremely self-dependent manner, displaying no false majesty, nor incurring foolish penalties.