As expected, YolandaWisdom backed away to preserve her safe range, but that took her within range of The Spiderling, who was searching for more runners to kill. The flare of a magical energy beam lit up the amphitheater, and Nick knew YolandaWisdom had been struck from behind. In other words, she was toast.
Which left a straight-up melee encounter with the Paladin. Nick consumed a healing crystal as he circled his opponent. There was no time to chip away. A shield fight would last a long time if both participants were disciplined. Out of necessity both fighters moved in aggressively, ready to swing at the slightest opportunity.
The fight became a classic slug-fest, with both triggering stun-locks on the other. In situations like these, vitality usually won out. Except for one thing - Nick’s stamina regen was superior. He was able to break the mutual stun-lock and establish a one-sided one, bringing the paladin to his knees and smiting him with a clean overhead smash.
Breathing hard, Nick consumed his last two healing crystals. Wearing a sly grin, The Spiderling beckoned for Nick and Kain to come to him. The other Barbarian had vanquished his foe and was free to engage.
It was time for the pair to join forces like they did in Duskstar Forest. The beginnings of a plan formed in Nick’s mind. For all intents and purposes, his mer-chestplate looked just like regular plate. He might be able to use its magic resistance to his advantage. As ever, timing would be critical.
“Come down, fight like men,” The Spiderling goaded, producing his primary melee weapon - a curved scimitar. It looked innocent enough, but was no doubt packed with buffs.
“I can’t do this alone, Kain,” Nick called out. The other Barbarian scowled in frustration - this situation was intolerable to him. He clearly disliked Nick, but was experienced enough to know that The Spiderling could only be defeated if they worked together.
“Your lead, Baron,” he said grudgingly, descending the terraces behind The Spiderling.
“Your camaraderie is inspiring,” the boss sneered, unleashing a beam of energy at Nick with his free hand. Nick rolled diagonally down the terraces, grateful for his boosted stamina. The focused light beam ripped into the granite, sending a shower of pebbles over Nick. Two more rolls and he made it to the floor where the real duel would begin.
The Spiderling advanced eagerly, scimitar at the ready. The blade sang through the air, moving in a lethal blur. Though his shield held firm, Nick still took around 100 HP from the flurry. The data told Nick that he couldn’t afford to tank The Spiderling - he needed to evade if he could. Easier said than done for a strength build.
Thankfully Kain timed his run well, getting a few decent hits in at The Spiderling’s back. The boss spun around and dropped him with an energy beam. That move was quick. Nick took the opportunity to fulfill his end of the bargain, landing three solid blows on The Spiderling’s back. His club crackled with energy, but the boss didn’t seem particularly vulnerable to lightning.
Between the two pixel runners, they had the Spiderling’s health down to around 60%. As expected, it was impossible for Nick to stun-lock him, especially with a weapon as light as the wooden club. He dearly loved clubs in general, having used them many times, but if there was one glaring flaw with them it was their inability to break an enemy’s defense.
The Spiderling was onto Nick in a flash, murderously swinging his curved blade. Nick’s stamina regen was good, but The Spiderling was still able to drag it down with the sheer speed of his attacks. Nick watched his orange bar nervously, seeing it reach the danger zone far too quickly for his liking. The Spiderling chuckled as Nick was stamina-drained, leaving him wide open to attack.
Showing vast stamina reserves, The Spiderling landed three hard blows that scythed through Nick’s armor and dealt multiplied damage. The pixel runner was sent flying across the stone floor and fell in an awkward heap. His HP bar was alarmingly thin - no more than 10%.
Laughing heartily now, The Spiderling moved in for the killing blow. Nick’s stamina was building again, but it wouldn’t be enough to hold his opponent back.
If ever there was a moment for Kain to renew his attack, this was it. Instead the fucking barbarian held back with a smirk, letting The Spiderling kill him. Nick acted on instinct, standing up to The Spiderling and removing his weapons. His dignified stance tempered The Spiderling’s laughter, but the boss couldn’t resist a parting shot.
“See you soon, Nick,” he hissed. “You’ll be the best minion I’ve had in years.”
Nick blinked. Sending private messages was one thing, but that was an open admission that Nick would be kept on as a tank vegetable. On a worldwide Nex cast. Nick looked The Spiderling in the eye, defiant to the end.
The villain snorted and flicked a beam of energy at his chest. Nick dropped to his knees and slumped forward. He was able to make it look authentic in his plate armor. He took a long breath, then let it out, praying that his HP held out. It did, but only just. He was still in the game!
The Spiderling had assumed that Nick was wearing regular plate. He therefore also assumed that an arrogant, disdainful burst of magic energy was enough to kill the pixel runner. What he didn’t factor in was Nick’s magic resistance. Just enough to keep him alive. His HP was so low the bar wasn’t even visible. A gust of wind would’ve killed him.
The Spiderling’s footsteps faded across the amphitheater floor. Nick risked opening an eye - the boss was about to engage Kain. Nick got to his feet and padded silently across the stone. The Spiderling blocked Kain’s view, which was probably just as well. Just as Nick hit peak stamina, he moved in.
“Not today, motherfucker,” Nick muttered, lining up the perfect back-stab. He breathed out in relief as the animation began.
First came the hilt butt. Then a crashing overhead as The Spiderling doubled over. Then a brutal back-splitter. The boss crumpled under the blow, his HP free-falling to 10%. Nick followed up with two standard attacks that send The Spiderling back to his maker. A torrent of XP flooded in, but Nick didn’t have time to look at that.
Kain came rushing down the terraces to finish Nick off and claim his prize. His eyes had such manic intensity that Nick almost felt sorry for him. Sorry that Kain hadn’t captured public imagination like Nick had. Sorry that Kain was destined to fade into obscurity and become one of the Syndicate’s tank vegetables.
Because Nick could not lose. Anger gave his focus a razor-sharp edge. Kain was moving in slow motion, such was Nick’s searing adrenalin. His opponent swung his new weapon, a scythe forged from material he didn’t recognize. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered.
Timing his move to the nanosecond, Nick side-stepped and clubbed Kain on the back as he charged through. Stun-locked. Simmering with slow-burn rage, Nick cleaved horizontally with his second attack. Stun-locked again.
Kain tried to muster a sneer as Nick brought his overhead swing home. The barbarian’s helm split in two and his head exploded like a tropical fruit. Nick was smeared with gore as his nemesis collapsed forever.
A sea of silence filled the amphitheater. Loot packages glowed faintly where Nick’s enemies had been slain. But he wasn’t interested. Once, lifting loot triggered levels of dopamine that a cocaine addict felt after a hit. Right at that moment - not so much. The mission cycle was over. Durandor had been saved from the Lich Queen’s undead armies.
There was still the kobold threat, but that was a story for another day. All that remained here, in the Amphitheater of the Black, was a tired survivor. The only survivor. Nick sat on one of the lower terraces and marveled at how strange and beautiful life was.
Immersion gel had never felt so good. Nick let himself drift, picturing all the faces of the Oakshield production team. Their smug smiles vanished, their conceited glances pulverized. He floated softly to the surface, allowing a techie to pull him free.
“Get your clothes on,” the man muttered.
Nick looked at the man sharply, but very quickly noticed that there was no one else in the studio.
“Wher
e is everyone?” he asked, already dreading the answer.
“Outside,” the techie said grimly. “You’d better come see for yourself.”
The glory of victory already a distant memory, Nick hastily threw his clothes on and followed the man through Neutron’s quiet corridors. The waiting room was deserted, the front desk unattended. Nick had begun to think that environmental catastrophe had finally visited the west coast, and that everyone had evacuated the building. The problem was far more personal than that.
A mixture of police and Neutron security personnel were setting up a barrier in the street. A rare late afternoon sun cast an orange glow over the squad cars that had been called in. Seeing this much police activity was a rare sight indeed. Since the privatization of law enforcement agencies, police units could only be depended on to investigate white collar crimes and landholder disputes. Like everyone else, they followed the money.
But what could’ve drawn everyone from their posts during the Oakshield recording? A crowd of onlookers were focused on two men in a cleared area. With a shock Nick realized that Ern Williams was being held around the throat by a burly man.
Nick stopped breathing altogether when he realized that the aggressor was none other than Mike, the bodyguard he’d hired the previous day. Despite repeated warnings from security, Nick cleared the barrier and approached the pair.
“Talk to him, Nick, he’s fuckin’ crazy,” Ern pleaded, but Nick responded with a venomous look.
“What’s happening, Mike?” he asked. “I needed you this morning.”
It sounded ridiculous, but it was true. For some reason Nick trusted Mike in a way he could never trust the Syndicate. The bodyguard nodded.
“First time I fail client,” he said sheepishly. “Syndicate men took me away. Then I escape from flyer.”
“You escaped from a flyer?” Nick asked incredulously.
Mike shrugged. “I convince pilot to fly low over building.”
“How did you find me?”
“I ask around, find Studio 20,” Mike said. “This bald man in charge. He say you die if he pull plug. So I pull him. We wait out here for you.”
It was an extreme maneuver but it seemed to have worked. Apart from being incredibly touched that his new bodyguard would go to such lengths to protect him, Nick wondered what the hell would happen now. If they lingered, the scene would be relayed by the media across the country. And no doubt the police would like to get their hands on the burly Slovakian.
“How do we get out of here, Mike?” Nick whispered.
Mike looked at him like he was an imbecile. “We take flyer,” he said, eying off an armored Syndicate flyer and dragging Ern across the street. Nick had no choice but to follow, praying that those cops weren’t feeling trigger happy.
Mike shoved Ern into the back and practically threw Nick in too. Sliding the door shut, he planted the barrel of a compact revolver in the back of the pilot’s head.
“Fly,” he said. “I give direction.”
“You’re a once-in-a-generation runner, Stanners,” Ern said from the floor of the cabin. The producer hit his head against the seat as the flyer lurched into the air, but that didn’t deter him. “All you had to do was tow the line and we could’ve done great things together.”
“The Syndicate takes what it wants,” Nick said darkly. “Excuse me if I don’t want to to eat and shit in an Immersion tank for the rest of my life.”
“Then what do you want?” Ern asked savagely. “To clean hotel rooms? We can offer six months in, six months out. The highest payment tier. A star of Oakshield Junction for the rest of your days.”
“I just wanna play,” Nick said firmly. “Drop in, drop out. Like I always have.”
“No Immersion company operates under that model,” Ern said in an increasingly shrill voice. “The Syndicate isn’t a fucking hotel, Stanners. Open your eyes.”
“Then I want no part of it,” Nick said, looking out the window to avoid his producer’s toxic gaze.
“You already are,” came the dreaded reply. “From the moment we started paying you a fortune, you committed yourself.”
Silence filled the cabin. There was nothing else to say.
Mike pulled the door open. A maelstrom of wind and dust assaulted the passengers. Nick covered his face as best he could, but a minute of exposure at this altitude would asphyxiate everyone. Serenity was abruptly restored as the door slammed shut. Mike was peering through the window, but Ern had vanished altogether.
“You didn’t …” Nick began.
“Drop over ocean,” Mike replied. “Legs broken, but survive.”
Nick didn’t know what to make of that. He still couldn’t believe he’d emerged from Immersion to all this.
“Mike, we’re gonna have the Syndicate on our tail,” he said. “Where the fuck are we going?”
“I know man who run Clementine Towers up coast. Good sec. Slovakian sec. Ex-military. Like me.”
Nick blinked. “A new place to live? But why…”
Mike laid a meaty hand on Nick’s shoulder.
“You like baby,” he said. “I take care of baby … and you have money now. I take cut.”
Nick couldn’t actually argue with any of that. His mind was reeling and there was a lot to unpack. He desperately needed a few hours in a quiet room.
“But Mike …” he said, struggling to think ahead. “I don’t have a job.”
“Bullshit,” the bodyguard said. “New series Oakshield Junction in six weeks.”
Nick scowled. “Why on earth would they pick me? We don’t exactly have a functional working relationship.”
Mike said nothing, his eyes darting to Nick’s wrist pad. Frowning, the pixel runner booted up and checked his messages. His server was close to shutting down. 1061 messages. He scrolled through some of the names. Fans. Media. His heart skipped a beat - there was even a message from Emily. Feeling butterflies in his stomach, he resolved to save that one for later.
“But what if I don’t want this?” Nick asked stubbornly. “The Syndicate will try to harvest me the first chance they get.”
Mike shrugged again. “Everyone watching. You forget.”
Nick shook his head, but deep down he knew it was true. He had millions of guardian angels on his side. As long as he had them, he was a valuable commodity to the Syndicate. In theory.
“I’m tired, Mike,” he said, laying himself down on the plush rear seat. His bodyguard was now busy threatening the pilot.
Nick knew he wouldn’t sleep, just like he knew there were torrid times ahead. He thought of the mysterious Gideon, the Oakshield designer who’d had saved his life several times in the Tomb of the Fallen.
Something told him his days on Oakshield Junction weren’t over - not by a long shot. But if he was to even consider returning to the fray, he’d not only need the media on his side, but he’d need to re-invent himself.
BaronFuckAss was dead, a teenager’s flight of fancy. If he was going to fulfill his potential as a pixel runner, he needed to study the game. Breathe the game. Live the game. He needed to adapt. Evolve. In-game and out, he needed a different build.
For the first time in his life, strength alone wasn’t going to be enough.
Coming soon - DEXTERITY BUILD
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AEGIS COLONY:
The Sands of Osiris (Book 1)
The Jungles of Verdano (Book 2)
The Ice of Solitude (Book 3)
FIVE EMPIRES:
The Blue Corsair (Book 1)
The Emerald Duellist (Book 2)
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Strength Build: A LitRPG Saga (The Complete Strength Build Cycle) Page 18
