The Road East (Epic LitRPG Adventure - Book 2) (Fayroll)

by Andrey Vasilyev

  “Can you bring me something to drink, too?” asked a soft voice that sounded vaguely familiar.

  I willed myself to turn my ringing head around and realized why the voice was so soft. It was coming from under the blanket. The edge shifted lower to reveal a disheveled head—Vika.

  “Ple-e-ease,” she asked again, blinking sleepily.

  “Okay,” I whispered, following that whisper for some reason with a foolish nod. That was not a smart move—the battering my ears were taking intensified.

  But, that was obviously not my only move that was less than smart. There was a very good chance the drunk girl in the bed would be causing me a world of problems. I did hope that nothing had actually happened, and our lack of clothes didn’t necessarily mean— I stepped on rubber proof that the conclusions I had just been drawing were mistaken. The obvious reason for our lack of clothing was just what might be expected. Overall, I knew I was in for some trouble.

  Once in the kitchen, I turned on the faucet and dumped a liter of water down my throat. Three tablets were followed by another half-liter. That was only a half-decent remedy for my raging hangover, and I would have loved some hot, peppery broth, but where was I going to find that? The little thing under the blanket undoubtedly had no idea how to cook. Girls these days are all about their careers, so they just eat prepackaged food and poison their boyfriends with it, too…

  I poured some water into a large cup for her, grabbed a few tablets, and went back to the bedroom. What happened yesterday? Why is she in my bed? And why can’t I remember anything? I’d never been a lightweight, and I’d never gotten blackout drunk before.

  “Here you go.” I handed Vika the cup and tablets.

  She pulled the same maneuver I’d recently managed, pulling herself up on the couch (Oh, wow—I even pulled out the bed for her. I don’t even remember that.) Greedily, she sucked down the water.

  “Don’t forget the aspirin,” I suggested hoarsely. Vika nodded, grabbed the tablets, tossed them into her mouth, and drank the remainder of the water.

  The blanket slipped down, giving me an excellent view of my employee’s tight, womanly body. Incidentally, it didn’t cause any reaction—there wasn’t anything new to see, and the post-alcoholic stupor I was in precluded any exploits I might have otherwise had in mind. There was also the fact that the body in front of me didn’t look to be going anywhere. Quite to the contrary, I worried I might have to figure out how to get rid of her. Although, to be fair, she didn’t look the kind of person who might be looking to slingshot her way up the career ladder. She seemed honest and hard-working, and I hadn’t gotten that kind of vibe from her. Also, she didn’t yell like other women I knew… She just seemed like a decent person. Not to mention the fact that our publication wasn’t impressive enough for her to want to climb the ranks. Well, I guess we’ll see. If all women were what they seemed, life would be a walk in the park.

  “Better?” I asked.

  “Yep,” she answered with a light hoarseness that matched my own.

  “Hey, did we drink anything last night besides cognac? It’s just that I can’t remember how everything ended up, and that’s not like me.”

  “Really?” Vika was surprised. “You don’t remember anything?”

  Uh-oh, I don’t like that last word. I suspected it was hiding something very unpleasant. Her tone was also much more familiar than it had been at the office, I noticed. Although…that was probably fine at that point…

  Just then, to add to the chaos, my phone rang. What now?

  “Morning, Kif!” It was Zimin, as friendly as ever. “How’s it going? Can you talk right now?”

  I realized why I probably hadn’t been able to talk the day before. Well, all we can do is admit to our mistakes.

  “To be honest, yesterday I was a little—” I started off in a repentant voice, though I was interrupted.

  “You’re telling me!” Zimin laughed. “You should have heard yourself yesterday! Anyway, I’m calling to congratulate you on the first release of the Fayroll Times. The board was more than pleased, so we’ll say you passed your entrance exam and are now part of the family. That’s the first thing.”

  “Thanks,” I said, feeling flattered.

  “Second. On Tuesday, make sure you’re in the office—my guy is finally going to come see you. You’ll have to sign some papers, he’ll give you a briefing, all the formalities. You remember, we talked about all of that.”

  “Of course.” I swallowed and felt my throat dry up once again. Hangovers are the worst. “I’ll be there regardless. We’ll be starting work on the next issue.”

  “Excellent,” said Zimin. “And, third, at the end of next week, Valyaev and I will have something small we need you to do for us in the game. Keep that in mind.”

  “Anytime,” I said, as cheerfully as I could. It turned out sincere, if less than enthused.

  “Great. By the way, have you picked a second in command? One of the four we sent you?”

  “Of course,” I answered. “Vika Travnikova. She’s the best of the four.”

  Vika heard her name, started, and stared at me. She looked great even with a hangover and without makeup. I couldn’t help but notice that. I winked at her reassuringly.

  “You decided on that last night?” asked Zimin snidely.

  “I put her in charge last week.” I didn’t take the bait. He was the boss, and he paid my salary, so he could go ahead and crack his jokes.

  “All right. I’ll have to let accounting know. They’ll call over to the paper and officially make her your deputy editor. And they’ll give her a pay raise. You have to make sure your people are happy, right?”

  “Absolutely!” I said, winking at Vika once again. She was only getting more nervous.

  “Okay, feel better and jump back into the game. It looks like it’s been a while.”

  “Why do you say that?” I feigned indignation. “I took the boat to Selgar, so there wasn’t anything for me to do. Plus, we had to get the first issue out. I was worried about it.”

  “Understood. Though, now you have other things to worry about. Or is your head feeling better?” Zimin laughed and hung up.

  I put the phone on the table and paused to see how I was feeling. My head was better. Aspirin is a remarkable little thing.

  “Who were you talking to?” Vika was staring at me in surprise.

  “Our employer.” I hiccupped and glanced at the girl in embarrassment. “With Zimin.”

  “Zimin himself?” Vika’s eyes, which weren’t small to begin with, widened even further.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, he’s way up there in Raidion,” Vika explained. “Mere mortals almost never get to talk with him—they get his secretary at best. It’s almost impossible to get face time with him. Even our provost only gets to talk with him on big occasions, since Raidion donates money for the school. Well, really, they’re the main financer—for the journalism and legal departments, at least.”

  “Really?” It was my turn to show surprise. “I’ve only ever talked to him. Well, and with Valyaev.”

  “Cool, and with Valyaev, too…” Vika shook her head.

  “But I thought they were the ones who sent me you guys.” I shrugged. “They told me they picked you out themselves, the best of the best.”

  “Seriously?” Vika shook her head again, this time with more vigor. “Some HR people from Raidion picked us. I doubt Zimin and Valyaev have ever even seen our resumes. Wait a second—I thought you were just trying to scare us last week, or at least put the guys in their place. But it turns out you really did call Zimin?”

  “I’m too old to be lying to kids,” I grunted. “Of course I called him.”

  Vika brushed her hair back. “What did he want to know about me?”

  “Nothing really.” I rubbed my temples. “He just asked me if I’ve named a deputy, and I said I picked you. He didn’t mind, so you’re now officially my second in command. They’re even going to bump your sa
lary.”

  Vika blushed, dropped her eyes, and pulled the blanket higher, obscuring my view of her charms. I immediately understood what was going through her head. “That has nothing to do with what happened last night. I would have named you my deputy regardless.”

  “I hope so,” said Vika in an embarrassed mumble. “I’m not that kind of girl…”

  “Forget it,” I said. “You’re a grown woman, I’m a grown man, so let’s forget it. Instead, why don’t you tell me what knocked me out like that? Do you remember?”

  “I remember everything.” Vika smiled meaningfully.

  I sat down and took a deep breath. “Okay, let me have it.”

  In a word, I wasn’t surprised that I couldn’t remember anything. Those two idiots, Samoshnikov and Yushkov, went back to the store when we ran out of cognac—happily, it wasn’t 10 p.m. yet, when sales would close—and got us some vodka, either because they wanted it or because it was cheap. Mixing cognac with vodka, obviously, did everyone in except for Vika, who didn’t drink the latter out of principle. Although, from what I could tell, she’d had quite a bit of the cognac. One way or another, she’d managed to get our deranged troop out the door, with the exception of Samoshnikov, who was sleeping on the table in my office when we left. Waking up there will be fun, and if he… Vodka and cognac affect weak stomachs differently. If I catch even a whiff of anything I think might be vomit, he’s a dead man.

  Vika flagged down two taxis once we got to the street. She loaded the bodies of our two colleagues into one, sending them, presumably, home. Then she figured out my address and was going to take me home, acting at once as a Good Samaritan and a smart career woman—I was still the boss, and I’d owe her a favor later on. The only problem was that there was no calming me down once she’d roused me to the point where I could tell her my address. I apparently told her that I was a “gen-n-ntleman” and would take her home first. Vika wasn’t having any of that, as she doubted that the taxi driver would take me home, that I’d be able to find my front door, and that I’d be able to get inside. That didn’t seem to bother her in the least when she sent the other two home in the first car. But that was just details.

  Anyway, that’s when I started trying to convince her to come home with me and then head to her apartment in the morning because I’d be worried sick that something happened to her if she didn’t. Vika said I was very persuasive, and she eventually agreed, having first gotten me to promise that I wouldn’t try anything with her. I assured her that I was completely harmless before falling back asleep.

  “Something like that,” she said, wrapping up her story.

  “Ahem.” I coughed. “Is that definitely everything?”

  Vika hesitated slightly and then asked me a question that threw me for a loop. “Who is El?”

  “What does El have to do with anything?” I asked, my heart beating.

  “What do you mean?” Vika asked, her cheeks turning pink. She began part two of the previous night’s adventures.

  Once she’d unloaded me from the car, Vika propped me up from the right side (she was no fading lily), figured out where we were going, and started moving in that direction. A girl with slanted eyes stopped her by the door.

  “And who are you?”

  “Vika,” she answered, taken aback. “What do you care?”

  I could imagine the cold feet my trusty deputy must have gotten right about then. She had no idea if I was married or not and, presumably, had just figured that I wasn’t based on my behavior and the lack of a wedding ring on my finger. But could that have been my wife? And, when someone stops you in the middle of the night and asks who you are, it’s only natural to put your guard up.

  But I woke up right then, recognized the person standing in front of us, and proclaimed to Vika that the girl was my personal curse. According to me, she beat me, used me, yelled at me, and, once in a great while, cooked barely edible food, leading me to wonder if she feeding me or trying to poison me? Vika realized she was caught smack dab in the middle of something and started trying to figure out how to hand me off to the obviously dangerous woman and leave. At the same time, Elvira, as it was definitely her, told me I was a bastard, an animal, and a tasteless cow. She accompanied that second-to-last word with a sideways glance at my young deputy. That led Vika to go from thinking about how to leave to thinking about how upset she should be and whether it was worth answering in kind. I stepped in, precluding any further action.

  My girlfriend, or, most probably, my ex-girlfriend, couldn’t have been anything but overjoyed to hear that, unlike her, Elvira Gizmatullina, the young girl next to me had a conscience, as she hadn’t left me alone on the road. I told her that there is good in the world, something Elvira couldn’t possibly understand, and that Vika had a soft, lovely chest, something that is also very important. I, Harriton Nikiforov, I announced, would, from then on, be dating the young woman with me, should fortune be so kind. I would love her, and, if I were really lucky, I would even sleep with her. El could go back to the steppes and push wormwood around with her muscular shoulders. Or something like that.

  Vika fell silent.

  “Hmm,” I responded. “Why wormwood? And why with her shoulders? Wormwood is just a little bush—maybe I meant needle grass?”

  “I have no idea,” said Vika. “I’ve never seen wormwood. I just know it’s what absinthe is made of. Though, to be fair, I’ve never seen needle grass either. I grew up in the city, a small one, but still a city. Kasimov.”

  “What happened next?”

  That was when things took an unexpected turn: El burst into tears and ran off. I was dumbfounded to see that spectacle and declared the night one of miracles and discoveries. The iron lady, after all, was crying, and I had found the girl I’d spent my whole life looking for. A miracle, to be sure, but a discovery, as well. Then I asked Vika to come with me, which she did, as she was completely exhausted after everything that had happened. Plus, I broke out all my rhetorical charms, in an attempt to convince her that she was the girl I’d looked for all my life, that she’d given me the strength to throw off the Mongol yoke, and that, in recognition of that fact, I would be her true and loyal companion for a long time, and maybe even forever. Vika wasn’t sure what I meant about the Mongol yoke, but she liked the rest—even if she didn’t exactly believe it. Still, she didn’t have a boyfriend, she liked me, and so off we went. She may have been having a few second thoughts.

  That last comment was accompanied by a sly glance and demanded a response.

  “Don’t worry.” I decided to burn my bridges—in for a penny, in for a pound. “It’s all true: the yoke, who I’ve been looking for, even about your chest. Most importantly, we got through a meeting with El alive and even unscathed. Thank God for that. Is anyone waiting for you at home?”

  “No,” said Vika, scrunching up her chin. “I live with my sister, and she’s seven years older than me. We stay out of each other’s way. Incidentally, she’s a big Fayroll fan.”

  “Really?”

  “Seriously. She spends all her time there, and I think she might have even become someone kind of important in the game. When I told her where I’d be working, she had one thing to say.” Vika raised her eyebrows, apparently doing an impression of her sister, and lowered her voice. “‘Don’t be asking me any questions about my character or my clan. I won’t tell you anything anyway.’” Like I need that.

  “She has her own clan?” I was intrigued.

  “I have no idea.” Vika shook her head. “How could she? She’s no oligarch; she’s just a school teacher.”

  “A school teacher?”

  “Yeah,” she answered, grinning slyly. “Grade school. She’s a nerd—she’s thirty, hasn’t ever been married. She doesn’t even have a boyfriend, can you imagine? Just school and Fayroll. What kind of life is that? Have you been married, by the way?”

  “Yes.” I nodded. “A while ago.”

  “Do you have kids?” Vika asked, clearly filling out a for
m in her head and checking off all her different boxes.

  Nothing new under the sun. Always the same.

  “Nope, no kids,” I answered. “At least, none that I know of.”

  “That’s good.” She smiled happily. “Is there anything you want to know about me?”

  “Not really,” I said. “The less you know, the better you sleep. And besides, women never tell you the whole truth. It’s better this way.”

  “Smart,” Vika said with respect.

  “Experienced,” I answered, crawling under the blanket. Just one thing left to do.

  Two hours later, I was waving to her from my balcony as she got into a taxi and drove off. She’d made breakfast for me out of nothing, so I had to take back what I’d mentally said about her—girls always know their way around a cooktop. She’d been very good in other areas as well, and she’d stayed away from cloying questions like when we’d be seeing each other next. It looked like I’d hit the jackpot. The fact that she was a colleague, well, that was an issue for the future. Maybe she’s an exception to dad’s rule.

  It also turned out that I’d given everyone that day off. That gave me pause when I heard it, but I figured it was just as well.

  “Forget it. They couldn’t work today if they wanted to. Call everyone and tell them to get some work done tomorrow; I don’t want them wasting the whole weekend. Tomorrow night, you can stop by and report to me.”

  Vika smiled when she heard “tomorrow night,” and I was looking forward to it myself.

  Once she was gone, I smoked a cigarette and shook my head. It wasn’t bothering me anymore, so I jumped into the capsule. I needed to see if I’d made it all the way to Selgar.

  It was interesting how your first sensations when you logged into the game were always smells. And that particular occasion was no exception: first a spicy, dusty smell wafted into my nostrils, and only then, was I blinded by the sun and deafened by the cacophony of the bazaar. I was in the East. It was Selgar. Thank God I’d made it.