“Let him see the doctor,” the old lady echoed.
The burly Magaradze didn’t say anything, just nodded at the door.
“Thanks,” I whispered voicelessly, taking a place by the door.
“Listen...” Magaradze touched my shoulder. “I don’t know your name-”
“It’s Phil.”
“Listen, Phil... Did you say Irina misses me?”
I stared into his slightly bulging eyes surrounded by a fine net of wrinkles. They were the eyes of a person who’d been around the block a few times.
I paused. “She does. A lot.”
He gave me a bear hug. “Thank you! I owe you!”
Without saying goodbye to anyone, he turned round and hurried down the clinic corridor toward the front door.
Your Reputation with Anatoly Magaradze has improved!
Current Reputation: Reverence 10/210
Oh wow. I hadn’t done anything special, really. Just told him something he’d probably already known. But what a leap in Reputation, from animosity to reverence!
The doctor’s door opened, letting out a patient followed by Olga herself.
“What’s with all the noise?” she asked.
No one replied.
She saw me. “Aha. Have you got your images? Come in, I’ll take a look.”
As I closed the door, I heard Aigul and the old lady Violette embarking on a heated discussion.
I took a seat, waiting for the doctor’s verdict. I was shaking, my hands clenched into fists. She studied the images against the light, lowering her head this way and that. Finally, she heaved a sigh and started writing.
So what was wrong with me, then? Was I nuts? Or just hallucinating? Did I have a brain tumor?
“And?” I finally managed with a dry throat.
“You’re perfectly fine,” she gave me a studying look. “Relatively speaking. You’re overweight. Marginally obese, to be frank. So you need to take better care of yourself. You need to eat less and exercise more. At your age, you shouldn’t let it get out of hand.”
She kept going on about the obesity-related dangers of an early stroke and heart disease. Finally I interrupted her,
“I’m sorry! I promise I’ll watch my diet and start a healthy lifestyle. I already went for a run yesterday. And I quit smoking. But please tell me,” I pointed at my temple, “am I all right... there?”
“Oh, absolutely fine. No problems at all. I can’t see any abnormalities. Your blood pressure is a bit on the high side but nothing you should worry about.”
“Thank you so much! You’re an angel!”
On impulse I grabbed her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers.
Her cheeks flushed.
Your Reputation with Olga “Lola” Shvedova has improved!
Current Reputation: Indifference 10/30
“All right, all right, that’s enough,” she said, smiling. “You can go now.”
Without taking my eyes off her, I rose, trying to imbue my gaze with all the joy I felt and all the happiness at the fact that nothing was wrong with me after all. She didn’t avert her gaze, as if teasing and encouraging me.
Your Reputation with Olga “Lola” Shvedova has improved!
Current Reputation: Indifference 15/30
Oh wow. I tried to pull myself together and headed for the door.
As I opened it, I turned back to her. “Thanks a lot, Lola.”
Her dropped jaw made a funny sound. I walked out.
A small crowd heaved by the door outside: the same familiar patients plus several more who must have just arrived.
“There he is!” Aigul shouted.
“Saint Phil, glory be to thee!” the old lady enthused.
“Phil! Phil!” the crowd cried out, reaching out to grab my hands, touch my shoulders or stroke my face.
It looked like I’d made a big mistake. You couldn’t play with people’s feelings the way I’d just done. Especially not with sick or old people — and they were all either sick or old here.
I raised my hands in the air. The crowd parted.
“You, Aigul!” I said in the surrounding silence. And you, Violette! And you,” I peered into the crowd, calling out their names one by one. “Listen to me, all of you! Hearken unto me!”
I could hear Olga strain her voice behind her office door, calling the next patient.
“You! All of you! You’re all going to be happy! Yes! Happiness for everybody, free! No one will go away unsatisfied!”[2]
Having thus prophesized, I promptly left the building.
Enough playing tricks on unsuspecting citizens. I was worse than a child, really.
As I walked back home, the system kept showering me with Reputation reports from Aigul, Mark, Violette and lots of other people I didn’t even know. And then...
And then I received a new level!
Congratulations! You’ve received a new level!
Your current social status level: 6
Characteristic points available: 1
Skill points available: 1
It was time I finally sorted out the interface.
Chapter Seven. Questions without Answers
“It makes me think of my life, my nonexistent accomplishments and my overall abilities in incompetence.”
Markus Zusak, I am the Messenger
ONLY LEVEL 6!
Never before had I felt so utterly worthless.
Only earlier that morning, I’d had the same social status as Alik, that drunken lowlife!
Me, Philip Panfilov, the next great Russian author (sarcasm intended) — and Alik! He and I shared the same place in the world’s food chain!
While my Yanna (provided she was still mine) was already level 8.
I kept walking blindly until I very nearly bumped into a moving car. Followed by the driver’s cussing, I hurried across the street. My head was teeming with exclamation marks. Too many shocks for one day. My sensitive psyche of gamer-turned-blogger just couldn’t take it any longer.
As I walked, I kept screwing my eyes trying to locate something in my internal view that might allow me to open that wretched stats window and distribute the points I had available. No such luck. The only thing I found was an inconspicuous debuff icon.
Nicotine Withdrawal
Duration: 14 days
Your body is deprived of nicotine!
Nicotine takes part in your body’s metabolism. -5% to Metabolism
Warning! High probability of a spontaneous Enrage!
Warning! Your aggro radius has increased!
-3% to Satisfaction every 12 hours
I chuckled. My previous attempts to quit had never come with a deadline. Only two weeks? Before, the sheer thought of having to struggle with nicotine dependency for the rest of my life had made me panic.
I might actually counter the debuff. I could drink more coffee and do more exercise. I might also try to raise my Satisfaction numbers with some nice tasty food. Having said that, wouldn’t my favorite books and movies have the same effect?
So basically, it was a no-brainer. I knew I could do it.
I still couldn’t find any character stats. Or my stats, rather. So I stopped scaring the passersby with my wild eye movements. Pointless. I might give it another try later at home when no one could see me.
As I walked along the boulevard, I noticed my first quest giver, Mr. Samuel Panikoff, busy reading a fresh copy of his newspaper. The old man was oblivious to my presence so I decided not to disturb him.
I popped into a nearby KFC restaurant and got myself a bucket of chicken wings to go.
I don’t like eating in public. I much prefer doing it in the comfort of my own home, hunched over a favorite book. My Dad gave me this habit. I know it’s not good for you but it’s my top guilty pleasure and I’m not giving it up for the world.
As I waited in line, I checked my smartphone notifications. My inboxes were groaning with missed calls and messages, mainly from fellow clan members. A couple of calls were from num
bers I didn’t know. They could be job offers. I called back but no one picked up.
Never mind. I’d have to check my emails once I got home.
A new system message came up,
Hunger
You’re experiencing food deprivation!
-10% to Metabolism
Warning! Your body lacks glucose!
Warning! Your body lacks amino acids!
Warning! Danger of muscle mass decreasing!
Debuff received: Weakness
-1 to Stamina every 24 hrs.
-1 to Agility every 24 hrs.
-1 to Perception every 24 hrs.
-1 to Intellect every 24 hrs.
-1 to Strength every 24 hrs.
-2% to Satisfaction every 2 hrs.
-3% to Vigor every 2 hrs.
That was nothing to sniff at. Even though I couldn’t quite work out its mechanism, my knees felt weak as if I had indeed received a debuff.
The bucketful of wings smelled awesome. I had to really exercise my willpower not to scoff the whole lot on my way home. No wonder: last time I’d had something to eat was dinner with Yanna last night, and now it was already past midday.
Yanna. My chest groaned stronger than before, pushing the euphoria of my earlier clinic visit to the background of my mind. All the joy of what was happening, including the new level I’d just received, had faded into insignificance.
I can’t tell you what had prompted my next step. It could have been the desperation of losing her. Or it could have been the hunger debuff affecting my judgment. In any case, instead of going home and trying to work out the mysterious game’s interface as I’d planned, I turned round and headed for Yanna’s workplace. Her company office was only a few blocks away.
Clutching the KFC bucket under one arm and the MRI envelope under the other, I hurried over there, ignoring the passersby’s surprised looks.
How many movies had I seen where the hormone-driven hero, instead of saving the world or going about his own business, hurried to reunite with his loved one instead. How many books had I read which described exactly the same scenario. And how angry had I been with the author or screenwriter, how passionately had I hurled the book across the room when the said hormone-driven hero would reject a good job, a lump sum of money or even the offer of superpowers simply to keep the woman he loved.
“You idiot!” I’d yell at the hero. “What do you think you’re doing? Go put a knot in it and do something useful!”
Now as I walked, I said the same things to myself. It didn’t help though. My legs kept carrying me to her.
I only stopped by the entrance to their posh business center. I needed to catch my breath. I was sweating like a pig. I wiped my face with my sleeve, dropping the MRI envelope into a puddle of rainwater in the process. I bent down to pick it up and sensed her gaze on my back.
I must have looked a sight: soaked and disheveled, standing in the middle of a filthy puddle fumbling for my envelope in the water. Plus that damned KFC bucket in my other hand.
I’d been here a few times before to pick her up, and every time she’d asked me to wait for her outside. Did I embarrass her? Had I been so dumb not to realize it?
She’d never invited me to their office parties, either. “It’s okay, you can stay at home and play with your computer if you wish, we’re not obliged to bring a spouse.”
And I’d so readily agreed every time she’d said it...
Bracing myself, I picked up the envelope, shook the water off it and turned round.
I’d been mistaken. The person who stared at me wasn’t Yanna at all. It was their security guard — a bundle of muscle wrapped in a cheap black suit — who mumbled something into his radio as he gave me a hooded look.
Max “Boss” Bosiara
Age: 29
Current status: security guard
Social status level: 3
Class: wrestler. Level: 4
Unmarried
Relationship: Dislike 15/30
Only level 3? Poor bastard! Even Alik had a better social status. And he was already disliking me? He didn’t even know me.
I was so pissed with this “Boss” as if it was his own fault that Yanna had left me. What had the system message said about “spontaneous Enrage”? This must have been it.
The thought had calmed me down a bit. Still I couldn’t resist getting even with him.
Copying his body language, I produced my cell phone and spoke into it, holding it close to my mouth,
“One, two, three, do you read me? Over...”
He gave up first, averting his gaze, then turned his back to me.
Stupid, I know. Still, it distracted me for a bit. My fixation with Yanna seemed to have subsided a little.
I walked home hung with debuffs like a Christmas tree. I was too tired to jog.
Once home, I peeled off my sodden clothes and shoved them in the washer, then headed for the shower to remove all trace of today’s legwork. I’d been rushing around like a headless chicken all day — but my Stamina hadn’t even budged.
I had lunch listening to the monotonous dripping of the leaky tap. I couldn’t even taste my food. Having finished, I made myself a cup of hot black tea. That was better. The Weakness debuff was already gone. Later, I might also have some strong coffee to give my Metabolism a boost.
Once I cleaned up after myself, I received an optimistic message,
You’ve consumed 378 calories.
Warning! The food you’ve eaten contains chemicals which may be detrimental to your health!
Warning! +0,00039% to your risk of developing cancer!
-0,071345% to Vigor
-2% to Metabolism. Duration: 12 hrs.
Ooh. Life is a bitch. I’d basically swapped one debuff for another. These days whatever you picked up from a supermarket shelf was bound to contain some “detrimental chemicals”. Thanks a bunch, mister game designer. You can warn me all you want but I’m not giving up fast food even if you keep dishing me up debuff after debuff!
I slumped into my decrepit leather chair. It groaned under my weight, creaking, then succumbed to its fate. I took a big swig of coffee, closed my eyes and tried to concentrate.
As always after a meal, I was dying for a smoke. I was too used to having a cigarette in my mouth whenever I needed to think. Still, I ignored the urge and took a few deep breaths, then focused on the task at hand. I needed to see the game’s interface.
My field of vision filled with blurred flashes of iridescent light. I noticed a dark shape moving in a row of amorphous spots. It was rather small, diamond-shaped, but most interestingly, it appeared to shimmer.
When I concentrated on it, the spot began to come into focus. Now I could see it clearly: a black diamond bearing the sign of a red exclamation mark.
I opened my eyes. The sign hadn’t disappeared. It hovered in mid-air in front of me like a 3D movie effect.
I reached out to touch it. Predictably, my hand went right through it. I tried to mentally “click” it.
It worked! A dialog window opened,
You’ve received a new social status level!
Current social status level: 6
You’ve unblocked a new skill: Insight I
Skill type: Passive
Now you can connect to the universal information field in order to see your data and that of the world around you, within the limits of your skill level.
Skill points available: 1
Accept/Decline
“Yes please! Accept!” I shouted.
Nothing happened.
I focused on the Accept button, mentally “clicking” it.
The world imploded onto me.
* * *
WHEN I FINALLY came around, I was lying on the floor in the fetal position. I must have fallen from the chair.
The room was dark. I could see the night sky through the window.
I tried to scramble to my feet but my arms gave under me, sending me face first back onto the floor. I very nearly fain
ted again. I rolled onto my back and waited for my numb body to wake up.
My eyes were itchy as if I had sand in them. My whole body was stiff. I was drooling from the corner of my mouth. Still, my mind was crystal clear as if I’d just had my brain formatted and a new OS installed.
I rubbed my eyes until finally I realized: those were no grains of sand.
They were icons and status bars.
I had my interface opened!
Unlike a traditional game interface, this one didn’t have any of the pretty bells and whistles. The edge of my vision was lined with several gray icons covered in black symbols. They were positioned along the top border which made them look a bit like eyelashes.
In order to “control” them, I had to roll my eyes. Then an icon would grow and come into focus, becoming clickable.
I glanced over the symbols without opening anything yet. A human silhouette; a book; a globe; an exclamation mark, and a question mark.
Not much. So where was my one-size-fits-all non-dimensional inventory bag?
I tried to move the icons around. It worked. I positioned them at some distance from myself. Now they looked like road signs hovering in the air a few feet away from me.
The status bars were located in the lower part of my field of vision. The already-familiar Vitality bar (or health bar, I suppose) was red, about three-quarters full. The one next to it was yellow, only half-full. I focused on it. This was Satisfaction.
Finally, in the lower right corner of my vision was a blue bar, full to the brim.
That just had to be mana.
All 100% of it.
Mana. Magic.
I was already envisioning myself hurling fireballs as I single-handedly battled a whole army (provided there was a war on) or stealthing into the bank vaults of some get-rich-quick scammers in order to retrieve their bankrupt old-age victims’ savings, or confronting a bunch of mafia toughs and bringing them to justice...
Restart_LitRPG Series Page 6
