Level Up

by Craig Anderson

  “And if you lose?” I’m willing to bet I already know the answer.

  “You lose those levels.”

  Carlos jumps around excitedly. “I can get to the max level in one shot!”

  Urgh. I already know this is a terrible idea, but there’s no turning back now. “Where exactly can we find this heroes fight club?”

  ***

  “Are you sure this is the right place?”

  “This is what the old man in the sketchy pub said. The Lukto hotel.”

  I was expecting a run down, abandoned building on the outskirts of town. This place looks like it belongs in Vegas. The golden pillars at the entrance must be fifteen feet tall. The cars parked outside are all worth seven figures.

  “This does not look like an underground fight club.”

  “Exactly! Here it is, hiding in plain sight.”

  We head inside. The reception is even grander. There is a crystal chandelier, several expensive looking vases and a lift with shiny gold doors.

  A man in a top hat and tuxedo greets us. He looks at us as if we are disturbing his very important task of standing around doing nothing. “I’m afraid we have no reservations.”

  “We are just here to check out the facilities.”

  “I’m sorry, but we have a strict dress code.” He surveys our outfits. Sarah tries to cover up her bikini, but it doesn’t do much to help.

  Carlos pulls out his bow. “Does this meet it?”

  His expression changes from dismissive to neutral. Without a word he flips a switch under the podium he is standing behind and the lift doors slide open. We stroll over to find it is not a lift at all, it’s a corridor. As we walk down it there is a rumbling, as if a train is passing overhead, but there are no train lines out here. I push open a heavy set of wooden doors and the sound transforms from a rumble into the roar of a crowd. We are standing in what can best be described as a coliseum. There are all manner of creatures in the crowd, not just humans. In the centre is a dirt circle, where a knight in a suit of armour is engaged in a fierce battle with a minotaur. I watch as the knight is skewered and flicked forcefully into the crowd, where he lands in a heap and doesn’t get up.

  “This looks fun!” exclaims Carlos. Only he could be excited by a place like this.

  “Who wants to go first?” I don’t know why I even bothered asking. Carlos sprints down to the arena and talks to a very shady looking individual who gives him a thumbs up.

  “Do you think he’s going to play it safe and only gamble a few levels at a time?” says Sarah.

  I don’t need to answer. A black shadow appears on the ground and blocks out the sun. We watch as a dragon the size of a small aircraft carrier lands in the arena. It barely fits, its tail swishes in and out of the ring. Several people in the front row wisely decide now would be a good time for some refreshments and vacate their seats en masse.

  Carlos doesn’t look phased at all, he hops up and down on the spot. The sketchy man walks out to the centre of the arena and holds his hand in the air. He slowly backs away towards the edge of the ring before dropping his arm and shouting “Fight!”

  Carlos immediately starts firing arrows, which the dragon blocks with its leathery wings. The Dragon spins and whips its tail, but Carlos somersaults over it just in time. He looses another couple of arrows, catching the dragon on its underside. They actually manage to stick and do a modicum of damage. This causes the dragon to screech and take flight, hovering a few feet over the arena. It opens its mouth and a jet of fire comes out, completely engulfing the entire arena.

  “Well that took longer than expected. Lets go get Carlos’ ashes.” I take a step down but Sarah grabs me by the arm and says, “Look.”

  As the smoke clears I see the shimmering of Carlos’ bubble shield. It pops and he stands up triumphantly. The crowd goes absolutely wild, hollering, cheering and stomping their feet.

  The dragon looks less impressed. It dives and tries to devour Carlos, but at the last second he steps aside and grabs it by the ear, pulling himself up onto its back. It tries to buck him off, but he holds on tight, waving his free hand in the air.

  Sarah says, “I think Carlos might actually be crazy.”

  “Yep.” Is the best I can manage as I watch my friend flailing around. I’ve seen him do a lot of stupid things, but this takes the biscuit.

  Eventually the dragon shakes him loose and he lands back in the arena, rolling the moment he hits the ground. This has been a very impressive display, but he still hasn’t done any meaningful damage. The dragon is too big, too strong and too fast. Carlos has nothing that can hurt it.

  Except maybe he does. He pulls out the golden arrow. He draws back his bow and waits. What is he waiting for?

  The dragon is becoming increasingly agitated, its attacks more wild and desperate. It rears up again, its mouth open, ready to cook Carlos alive. I don’t know if it has been long enough, is his bubble shield back up yet?

  A lick of flame leaves the dragons mouth as Carlos fires the arrow. It goes straight down the dragons throat, but nothing else happens. The crowd goes silent. Carlos turns his back on the dragon and crosses his arms. He’s given up. The dragon sees its chance to finish the job and raises its claws to cleave him in two. That is when it explodes in a flash of blue flames, raining chunks into the audience.

  Everyone is on their feet now. Several pairs of underwear, men’s and women's, get thrown into the arena. Carlos swaggers off the stage like a rock star. He struts up to Sarah and I, brushing chunks of dragon off his shoulder.

  “You are certifiable! Did you gamble all of your levels?”

  “Don’t be silly, I saved a couple. Had to have something to gamble with if I lost.”

  I check his stats. Level 50 Stealth Archer. He’s grinning. “Oh man, what am I going to spend all these skill points on?”

  “I think you have luck levelled up enough. Maybe try bumping up your common sense stat.”

  “Boring! So which of you is going next?”

  Sarah and I both hesitate. After watching that display I am in no rush. She says, “I suppose I can go.”

  “Are you going to do it sensibly over a few rounds, or do it all at once?” I ask.

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  She strolls down to the arena and Carlos pats me on the shoulder. “Way to be a modern guy, letting the woman go for the fight to the death first. I’m sure you’re going to be able to just sit here and watch her without interfering.”

  Uh oh. He has a point. I’m not sure if my nerves can take it. I guess I know which way Sarah went as a hulking Centaur steps into the ring with her.

  What follows closely resembles a small child watching a horror moving. I spend the next ten minutes occasionally peeking through my fingers and making strained faces.

  Sarah is ok, she is keeping it at bay with fireballs.

  She’s chugging a potion behind a wall made of ice.

  She blinks out of the way just as the Centaur charges.

  She blasts it with lightning, leaving a static charge in the air of the arena.

  Carlos doesn’t help, with the occasional teeth sucking or near miss groan.

  I feel heat on my face and I peek through my fingers to see the blazing corpse of the Centaur collapse on the ground. Carlos says, “What a fight! I don’t think we’ll see another one like that again. She has really levelled up that fireball, that last one was like a meteor! You’re up bud.”

  I walk past Sarah on my way to the arena. She smiles and says, “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”

  Will I heck! Dragons, Centaurs, what am I going to be pitted against? A giant scorpion, or perhaps a Medussa.

  When I reach the sketchy guy he says, “Ah fresh meat. How many levels would you like to bet?”

  I really want to say one, but we don’t have time for me to fight twelve times to get to max. I swallow hard and say, “Twelve please.”

  “Ok. Step into the arena and I will choose a suitable opponent.”

>   I walk into the circle and the crowd hushes, waiting to see what foul creature will be brought out to face me. I hear clicking and scraping coming down the hallway. A giant centipede? Some kind of killer robot?

  A sweet old granny hobbles into the arena with a walker. Is she lost? Perhaps she is trying to get to the stands? I walk over to her, speaking slowly and loudly, “Are you ok ma’am?”

  I hear “Fight” behind me. I turn around, but don’t see my opponent. When I turn back I get a walker to the temple and the crowd bursts into laughter. I back away, clutching at my face. The old lady says, “In my day sonny, we showed our elders some respect!” She starts to stumble towards me and I don’t know what to do. I can’t exactly shoot an old lady. I back away, holding my hands out in front of me. “I think there has been a misunderstanding. I was looking to fight some kind of creature.”

  She darts forwards with surprising speed and does a handstand onto her walker. Then she does a spinning helicopter kick, her wrinkly ankles flapping in the wind as she kicks me repeatedly in the face.

  My health has already taken a beating. She hits with the force of a wrinkly bag of hammers. I hear Carlos shouting from the stands, “Hit her!”

  “I can’t!”

  “You have to!”

  Get my arse handed to me by a granny, or kick the snot out of an old lady in front of a crowd. I’m not loving these options.

  Now she is swinging her purse around like a bola. It connects and sends me flying across the arena. She must be carrying around a set of free weights in that thing.

  I have to make a choice. Am I going to be the good guy, the softie, the paladin? Or is it time for a dash of renegade?

  I’m going to have to hit her.

  She reaches into her purse and tosses out handfuls of something onto the ground. I have no idea what it is, but as I run towards her to hit her I step on one and stick to the ground. It’s a god damned toffee sweet. As I try to wrench my foot free she dashes towards me and does a combo of punches on my face. I’m stuck here like a punching bag, my head bobbing back and forth with each punch.

  I draw Waterfall and shoot at her, but she rolls out the way. She’s got the reflexes of a fifteen year old FPS player.

  I finally manage to get my foot free. I make a mental note to avoid the rest of the toffee landmines.

  “Do you want to see some pictures of my grandkids?” She pulls out a photo album the size of a phone book and hits me in the face with it.

  That’s it. It’s on.

  I grab Showstopper. With a quick flick the photo album is cleaved in two. Pictures of ugly infants rain down around me as Granny screams in rage and barrels at me faster than the damn Centaur.

  I fling a pie in her face and drop for the leg sweep. It’s hard to sweep two legs and a walker, but I manage it. Granny crashes to the ground faster than a set of dinosaur bones without the pins.

  Now she’s really pissed. She staggers back to her feet and sticks her hand in her bag. I’m ready for more toffees, but she pulls something else out that I can’t quite make out. As I dash in to hit her again she points it at me and my eyes turn to fire. It’s flipping mace. I fall to the ground clutching my eyes and she rushes over and starts kneeing me in the face, blowing a rape whistle for added effect. I try to open my eyes, but they are already swelling up. She moves in for the kill, I can hear the clink, clink as she gets closer. It’s all I need. When she is almost on top of me I unleash the flaming uppercut.

  It’s super effective!

  She must be doused in gin and hairspray. It sends her flying into the air, her frail body limp. Her grey hair is still smouldering when she lands and I get a message:

  K.O. - Winner

  +12 levels

  Level 50 - Senior Business Analyst

  I want to go and help her, but there are already crowd members rushing over to her. Some of them start walking towards me, looking less than thrilled. Carlos appears by my side, wiping tears from his eyes. “Oh mate, that was classic. I never thought you had it in you to uppercut a granny into next week.”

  “I think now might be a good time for us to leave.”

  “Are you sure? We still have some time. Maybe you can beat the crap out of a box of puppies.”

  “Seriously, we need to get out of here.”

  Carlos finally pays attention to the group of angry people stalking towards us and says, “Ok, point taken. I was bored of this place anyway. Time to skedaddle.”

  We run back through the doors we came through. Sarah throws up an ice wall, blocking the doors before anyone can follow us. She turns to me. “That was…surprising.”

  “Look, I don’t want you to think I’m some kind of granny bashing psycho. I was just defending myself.”

  There’s a hint of a smile as she says, “I just didn’t realize you had a dark side.”

  Carlos tries to help. “What Marcus? Yeah, he can be a real arsehole when he needs to be, isn’t that right mate.” He winks at me. He thinks he’s helping.

  Worst. Wingman. Ever.

  LEVEL 24: TEAM BUILDING

  “We should head back to base and stock up before the final showdown. How long do we have left?”

  I check the countdown. “90 minutes. We are cutting it pretty close.”

  “It’s on the way, it won’t add much extra time.” Carlos lays across the back seat and chuckles. I don’t need to ask what he is laughing about. I’m going to be called Granny basher for the rest of eternity. Is it weird to hope that maybe the world ends after all?

  I almost drive right past the base. I have to do a double take. It looks a lot different from when we left it. For one, it is now 10ft up in the air.

  “Guys, why is our base a treehouse?”

  They both stare up at the three story house that is suspended in the air by a tree that is almost certainly not structurally sound enough to hold that kind of weight. The only way in is a rope ladder, so I reluctantly climb it. There is no sign of the Black Ring anywhere.

  I pull myself up onto a nice porch and open the front door. I can hardly believe my eyes. This place looks straight out of a magazine. There is a huge kitchen with stainless steel appliances, a TV the size of a wall and a games collection that spans generations. It is my dream home, in tree house form.

  I walk through the living room and find myself in the armoury. It is an unusual addition to the house and doesn’t really fit in with the modern vibe, but I’m not complaining. The walls are covered in every manner of weaponry you can think of. I reach up and pull a pair of nunchucks down off the wall. Was it really only yesterday that I wielded these for the first time? I spin them around without thinking and then slip them into my pocket. I also grab a handful of throwing knives, for old times sake. I add several clips of Agile ammo while I am at it.

  There are lots of other items. I see golden samurai swords, jewel encrusted battle hammers, a shield that appears to be made of solid diamond, but I can’t bring anything else. I need all my remaining inventory spots for food. Something tells me I’m going to need healing in the final battle.

  I hear a commotion and go to investigate. Several members of the Black Ring are engaged in a heated debate around a pool table. As soon as I walk into the room they all stop what they are doing and stand to attention. I say, “carry on,” but they don’t move.

  I find Carlos and Sarah raiding the cupboards, stuffing food into their pockets. I tell them both about the armoury and Carlos runs off, coming back momentarily with a full quiver.

  “So why is our base now a treehouse?” asks Carlos.

  “It makes literally no sense, but I suppose strategically it is harder to attack now.” I do a quick check. “Wow, it says the base is level 5. These guys have been busy. The weird thing is I didn’t ask them to do any upgrades. I guess they took the initiative.”

  Carlos says, “What do you think this button does?” He’s pointing at a large red button on the wall. Before I can say anything he’s pushed it. A blaring alarm sounds and metal
shutters immediately descend over all the windows and turrets drop down from the roof. It’s enough of a racket to wake up Nutsack, who appears on my shoulder. He looks terrible, his eyes are bloodshot and he keeps scratching at his mouth. Black Ring members come running, weapons drawn. I hold up my hands, “False alarm, please go back to what you were doing.”

  They stare at Nutsack like they have never seen a squirrel before. He yawns and goes back into my hoodie. After a few seconds the Black Ring disperse. I turn to Carlos, “You just can’t help yourself can you? You see a bloody big red button on the wall and you have to push it.”

  “What can I say, I am curious.”

  “That is a much politer way of phrasing it than I would have chosen.”

  Something starts blinking in my peripheral. I look and the timer is now flashing, counting down from 60 minutes. “Ok team, I think it’s time. Is everyone ready for the final showdown?”

  They both do a check of their armour and gear and nod. I pull up my quest menu and click on the very last one. The green arrow appears. “Ok. Let’s do this.”

  ***

  As we get closer to the location Carlos says, “I think it’s taking us to Master Systems. You think Jenkins is the final boss?”

  “A fat middle-aged balding guy? Wouldn’t be much of a challenge.”

  “Says the guy who almost got killed by a Granny an hour ago.”

  “Well luckily for me I have Carlos the dragon slayer with me, so he can do some actual work while I take a break. Will be a nice change.”

  Sarah says, “You two are like an old married couple. We are all on the same team here. Like I said before, the end game boss in the game is tough as nails, so if it turns out to be your boss then consider yourself lucky.”

  We pull up outside the building and the arrow points towards the entrance. Looks like we might have hit the jackpot.

  As we stroll into reception the security guard jumps to his feet. He reaches for his walkie talkie and it shatters in his hand as Carlos shoots an arrow through it. He turns to run and gets a sleeping arrow in the arse for his trouble. The receptionist doesn’t even look up from her game of solitaire.