+100% to the user’s Speed
Requires changes to the user’s metabolism and perception of time
Awaiting activation confirmation...
Still hearing Martha’s voice, I ducked, trying to dodge the knuckle duster on the youngest goon’s fist. It shot past within inches of my head.
I stood up. Without even realizing what I was doing, I mechanically clenched my hand and punched him in the stomach.
For some reason, he squeezed his eyes shut and screwed his face into a grimace of agony. The guy slowly doubled up as he rose into the air in a gravity-defying ascent, then traced an arc over the ground as if mimicking a B-movie slow-motion stunt.
Awaiting activation confirmation...
Sending request to server. Please wait. Server connection timeout. Impossible to establish connection with the server.
Forceful activation of heroic ability: Sprint is canceled.
Time sprang back to normal. My attacker zoomed through the air, then landed a dozen feet away from me where he lay motionless. I stepped back, turning so that I could keep an eye on the remaining two. The leader’s other minion had already taken a swing with a large, heavy monkey wrench. Now his hand stopped halfway through the air as he stared open-mouthed at his buddy crouched in the fetal position on the ground.
“What did I just say?” I spat at their feet and cracked a grin. I’d leveled up Spirit just in time, hadn’t I? “Come on, punk!”
Slowly the “punk” stepped back, casting wary glances at his two friends.
I was bluffing, sure, but that seemed to be the only solution. To run off would be to expose my weakness to them. Also, I wasn’t going to run fast, not with this leg of mine. And this way there’d still be hope that Richie would find me.
Indeed, he came running. I could hear his barking and the snapping of branches as he charged through the bushes toward me. No idea how dogs know it, but he immediately took his place at my side in an aggressive crouch, growling. The fur stood up on his hackles, his ears flattened — my pet was at his best, spreading an Aura of Fear for many feet around.
I grabbed hold of his collar as if trying to restrain him, while in fact I was sponging off his confidence and courage.
“You’d better watch your back now, Mr. Bolt,” the leader said threateningly, then turned to his minion, “Just leave him and let’s get outta here.”
“And how about him?” the younger one pointed at his friend still lying on the ground.
“He'll live. He'll come round and get back to us,” the leader replied, then left the scene with the proud posture of a bodybuilder, his back straight and shoulders spread.
Without lowering his monkey wrench, the other one gave me a wary look and stepped toward his buddy lying on the ground.
“Don’t be afraid,” I encouraged him. “I won’t hurt you. What’s up with him?”
“He seems to be breathing,” he replied.
“Take him away before I-” I began.
The sounds of shouting and stomping of feet came from the direction in which the leader had just left.
The goon peered into the darkness, then announced, “Now run like hell! We’ve got help coming! Run!”
With my plummeted Perception and bad eyesight, I finally recognized their leader running back toward us followed by a burly dude.
“There he is!” the leader lunged at me. Before I could dodge, I received an almighty stomp in the ribs. Choking on my own wind, I collapsed hearing a chaos of voices and the growling of Richie who’d sunk his teeth into my attacker’s arm.
“Don’t move!” I heard Alik scream. It was he who’d apparently hurried to their aid.
Wailing like a Banshee, Tarzan tried to beat off Richie. Richie was shaking his head with the unfortunate attacker still in his jaws.
“Down! Down!” the other goon yelled at the dog. “Get off!”
“Phil, get the dog off!” Alik shouted in my ear as he helped me up to my feet.
Ignoring him without even trying to grasp his role in the situation, I suddenly became enraged beyond pain and fear, which was immediately confirmed by a system message informing me of my excessive adrenaline and noradrenaline levels. I received a “Fury and Valor” buff with bonuses to strength, agility and stamina which also offered a heightened pain threshold, metabolism and confidence.
“You son of a bitch!” the goon groaned. “Get your dog away from me!”
“Phil, would you please take Richie away?” Alik asked, then ventured hopefully, “Richie, come on, boy!”
Richie squinted at me. Clever dog. With a heavy gait I headed toward Tarzan, fully intending to wipe the grin off his face.
“Phil, please,” Alik held me back by my shoulder.
I brushed him off.
“Phil!”
“Shut up,” I took a wild swing, about to bash the bastard’s brains in.
“Stop, for Christ’s sake!” Alik yelled, yanking my arm back.
“What now?” I exploded. “Are you defending this piece of crap?”
“Just cool it, man,” Alik kept urging. “It’s all right! Everything’s okay now!”
I peered into his eyes framed by long eyelashes. His pock-marked face breathed peace. Slowly I came back to my senses.
“Richie, off!” I said. “Alik, whassup, man? Did they tell you how they’d jumped me?”
“Not yet,” he said. “We’ll get to that bit now.”
Richie relaxed his jaws, releasing Tarzan's hand. Still growling, he stood next to me.
Soon we had everything sorted out. The three thugs — who were a couple of rungs below Alik in their unspoken street hierarchy — apologized and even paid me a “penalty”. Tarzan emptied his pockets, scooping out all the bank notes and small change he had on him, a half-empty pack of cigarettes, a lighter and an open packet of chewing gum, and handed everything to me.
“What’s this for?” I asked.
“For the trouble,” he wheezed. “We’re sorry. We shoulda known better.”
By then, the other guy had already come round. He frowned blankly, trying to grasp the situation, then promptly joined in,
“We’re very sorry, sir. We didn’t recognize you. We’ve heard some good things about you already but we’ve never seen you before. So it’s our fault.”
“I don’t need your money,” I said. “Tarzan has already paid enough for my single bruise. You’d better get him to the first-aid station now. Let them see to his wound. The dog might have rabies, you never know.”
“Alik, please don’t mention this to Yagoza, man,” Tarzan asked. “Please?”
“I won’t. You’d better ask Mr. Panfilov,” Alik nodded at me.
Was he trying to level up my Reputation with street thugs for me?
Tarzan switched his gaze to me, awaiting my decision.
“I won’t, either,” I replied, promptly receiving a Reputation upgrade with all three of them.
Alik gave each of them a brotherly hug. The goons left, two of them supporting their staggering friend.
“Listen, man, I’m sorry,” Alik said. “They’re my hoodies, I’ve grown them from scratch. They didn’t recognize you, that’s all.”
“It’s me who has to be sorry, man,” I said, mimicking his tone. “But don’t you think it’s a bit sick? Had it been some strange guy, they would’ve just taken his money and his phone, gave him a good thrashing and just left him here. D’you think it’s correct?”
He didn’t reply. We walked along the park lane, me still limping, him pensively tousling Richie’s haunches, until we came to a brightly lit busy street. The sight seemed to jerk us back to reality.
“You know, Phil,” Alik finally said, “They’re just kids. Red-blooded youngsters high on adrenaline. They need money. They’re prepared to work for it. But no matter how hard they try, they’re getting nowhere. They’ve got no jobs. They’ve got nothing! How do you want them to earn their way in life? You tell me!”
“You want me to tell you?” I as
ked as an idea began to form in my head. “Very well. Listen up...”
* * *
WHEN WE LEFT the park, Alik forced me down on a bench and was about to dash off to the nearest drugstore for some medication. By then, my knee had swollen. I’d struggled to walk. The Fury and Valor buff had already expired, and its cooldown had rewarded me with agonizing pain in my whole leg.
“You need to put your leg up on the bench,” he told me before leaving, “That way it might slow the swelling down.”
“Wait a sec. These hoodies of yours, are they always so crazy? They very nearly killed me!”
“Oh, no. Not at all. Normally they’d just put the fear of God into someone and that’s it. But today they decided to go for it. They wanted to find a guy, knock him out straight away and check his pockets. Tarzan's got a baby daughter, you see. They share a one-bedroom place with his parents. His father is a paraplegic. His disability benefits are a joke. They have no food in the house, you understand?”
“I’m trying to. He’s a fit, healthy guy. He’s been in the army, hasn’t he? He could have easily found a menial job, like unloading cargo trains at the station. Or he could have offered his services as a night guard...”
“And you think he didn’t? He gets up before five a.m. every morning to join the other bunch of guys who’re waiting to be picked by casual employers. He accepts every job he’s offered!”
“I still don’t understand. Sooner or later, he’ll get himself arrested. And then what? Who’s gonna put food on the table?”
“You don’t have children, do you?” Alik replied. “I don’t. And his baby girl is real sick. She needs surgery or she might kick the bucket pretty soon. His dad needs his medications... Never mind. Wait for me here. I won’t be long.”
After a quarter of an hour, he emerged from the 24/7 drugstore with a pot of some ointment he’d bought with his own money. I applied it and leaned my elbows on the bench as I waited for the medication to work. Alik hovered around, sighing at his own thoughts, then admitted he had nowhere to spend the night.
“How’s that?” I asked.
“I used to crash with this guy and now he’s got himself a woman. I spent last night in the park. I woke up in the middle of the night because I was frozen solid! I had to jog around for a bit just to get warm. So this morning the boss caught me sleeping on the job. And then I had to unload fish and stack it in the freezer and that’s when I got frozen stiff!” he emitted a jaw-wrenching yawn which ended in what sounded like a groan. “And I’m starving.”
“Food isn’t a problem,” I said. “Let’s go to my place and cook something now. And as for a place to stay... can’t you rent something?”
“I could, I suppose... only I used your money to pay off a loan and all the overdues. And the new boss won’t give me an advance. Which is logical really, I’ve only been working there for two days. But I’ve already found a place just next to my new job...”
“Listen,” I said, “ I have an idea. I’m gonna move to a new place in a couple of days. And my apartment has been paid for at least another week in advance. You could stay there if you want.”
“Really?”
“Why not?”
He didn’t reply. A new system message answered my question instead,
Your Reputation with Romuald “Alik” Zhukov has improved!
Current Reputation: Respect 40/120
As I blinked the message shut, I felt strangely touched. This was the first jailbird in my life who’d had respect for me. Someone might say this wasn’t much to be proud of. Still, I beg to differ. In the eerie neon light of a nearby publicity billboard Alik looked a lot like a blue troll. Not that idiot from the movie but the proper WoW one: clumsy but burly and tall with muscular arms hanging to his knees. That’s why his streetwise respect for me, a wussy nerd, was akin to the respect felt by an aggressive Horde troll to an Alliance player.
“Let’s go, then,” I said, scrambling to my feet.
“Let me help,” he stood next to me, threading his arm under my shoulders.
“Richie, heel,” I said, feeling a sudden bout of sadness. Svetlana, the dog’s owner, was bound to collect him the next day.
We reached my apartment without any further innuendos. Shame I’d failed to improve Running, though. I’d missed the opportunity to make a new level.
“Come in and get comfortable,” I said. “Richie, let’s clean your paws first.”
As I’d walked home, I’d had plenty of time to work out what must have happened in the park. The so-called “heroic ability” — and not even the most impressive one at that — had allowed me to literally step into Neo’s shoes, albeit for a few seconds. The incredible sensation of my superiority was multiplied by self-righteousness (because I’d known I was doing the right thing, otherwise the program wouldn’t have activated the ability to begin with) which had been far beyond everything I’d ever experienced before. That was one hell of a powerful ability which allowed you to be in control of any situation, almost like a turn-based combat in Fallout. Normally, I should have received it at level 20 or so.
Now I knew what to look forward to.
“Phil, mind if I take a shower, man?” Alik asked, sniffing himself. “I can’t stand myself for much longer.”
”Absolutely. Clean towels are in the bathroom cupboard.”
He took his time. Judging by the sounds coming from the bathroom, he must have thrown his clothes in the wash.
In the meantime, I got the dinner going. I really should spend the next morning closing more deals. I had some good ideas — and I really wanted to pay Pavel back with some nice sales numbers without disappointing him. I also had to go to the gym, walk Richie — which would probably be our last walk together — and think what to do about moving to a new place. I needed to look into the legality of Galina’s apartment. If it was bad news, I’d have to shop around some more: this time I might use my interface search function.
I also needed to contact Yanna and find out whether our Friday divorce appointment was still valid. We should have done it today but that was something I couldn’t help.
I opened my task list and made it smaller, leaving it hovering in my view. I had to decide on the tasks’ order and priority.
- meet up with Yanna and file for divorce;
- pay my casino debt back to my friend Gleb Kolosov
- work out a wanted criminals search strategy
- downsize
- having moved to a new place, leave the old apartment keys with Romuald “Alik” Zhukov
- return Richie to his owner Ms. Svetlana “Sveta” Messerschmitt;
- contact some of my old friends and ask them out to catch up on things
The last two petty tasks on the list — to level up Running and to get a haircut — hadn’t earned me any XP at all, not even a measly 5 pt. I got a funny feeling that the program kept making it harder for me to proceed. These days, it didn’t offer rewards for every petty task just to make sure I completed it.
I studied the task’s priority order. Apparently, the Augmented Reality! Platform still believed my divorce to be my prime objective.
Why so? How would it change if, for some reason, I reconsidered and reconciled with Yanna? You’d think that saving a family was a more socially meaningful action compared to splitting one?
Also, why would the program consider my ancient casino debt to Gleb — I remembered his name now, thanks to the mention on the list — more important than my search for wanted criminals? What if the very fact of paying him back didn’t really matter? What did matter, however, was restoring his faith in friendship and fellow men?
Without hesitation, I opened my smartphone and searched through social media until I’d located his profile. After that accident, he’d removed me from his friends list. Luckily, he hadn’t blocked me. I wrote him a long message telling him how ashamed I was of what I’d done and offering to pay him back at any time convenient to him. I also added that it would be nice to meet up wit
h a few of our old friends — say, this coming Friday — and catch up on things.
I wrote similar messages — leaving out the debt-paying part, of course — to all my old college friends, guys and gals, the contact with whom I’d lost when I’d stopped answering their invitations, completely consumed by a new WoW content update.
A content update... What was its name again? I couldn’t remember. This Optimization thing seemed to have had its effect on me.
Thus musing, I returned to my potato-peeling, onion-chopping duties. I decided not to bother with any complex dishes. Chicken legs and French fries, good enough.
I might have failed leveling up Running earlier that night, but my half-baked attempt at cooking had brought me the few XP points I so badly needed.
The chicken legs were still far from done when I received a new message,
Congratulations! You’ve received a new skill level!
Skill name: Cooking
Current level: 4
XP received: 500
That was enough to receive a new level, the second one for today. I’d made level ten!
Heroism, here I come!
Congratulations! You’ve received a new level!
Your current social status level: 10
Characteristic points available: 1
Skill points available: 1
Now I had two skill points and two characteristic points available. One of which I absolutely had to invest into Luck to make level 10. That way it would finally reach the worldwide average. Also, that was the number required for all level-1 Heroic skills.
I was dying to invest another point into either Intellect or Agility. Still, I decided to take it easy for the time being. My acquisition of Heroic abilities might force me to alter my initial leveling strategy.
I opened the skill descriptions,
Tier 1
Ability name: Lie Detection
Ability type: Passive, Heroic
Considerably enhances the user’s ability to tell if someone’s being insincere
Restart (Level Up Book #1) LitRPG Series Page 37
