by Dmitry Bilik
I spotted Hunter next to Thrift Store. Showing no interest in the second-hand apparel, my accidental mentor was talking to a man who looked completely ordinary despite his unusual tattered clothes. The text box above him read Spy.
I caught a snippet of the conversation.
“The Seers are nervous,” Spy said. “According to them, a Chorul died in the Cesspit the other day.”
Hunter snorted. “You know very well that’s impossible,”
Just as the spy was about to object, his eyes met mine. He froze open-mouthed.
Damn!
[ ∞ ]
I darted behind a passing Player, nearly getting tangled up in the flaps of his cloak. I took a few steps and went to stand next to a transparent store window.
“...You know very well that’s impossible.”
“And you think I don’t? But it wasn’t just one Seer who said it. We all know there’s always one or two who get their prophesies wrong. But not all of them at once!”
“Anything else?” Hunter asked.
“Eriol is going to try to kill you today.”
“I know.”
“Then I won’t worry about you. Good-bye.”
“See you soon,” Hunter replied, then added in the same level voice, “Come here. You think I didn’t notice you?”
I turned my head. Hunter was looking directly at me.
Well, all right then. I’m coming. But you’ll never find out that I rewound time to get that information.
“Are you done?” Hunter asked.
“Yes. I took an oath saying that now I’d be a sacred guardian of the rules of the Cesspit.”
“That’s not a joke. The Guards don’t like to fuck around.”
“But as I understand it, that doesn’t stop everyone.”
“Not really.”
“Hunter?” I said. “What’s a Chorul?”
Hunter gave me a long look. I’d never seen him so serious before. Then he said under his breath, so that no one but me could hear him,
“It’s the guy you killed.”
Chapter 6
ANY EXPERIENCE that forces you to leave your comfort zone is frightening — getting a job, moving, meeting new people. We tend to think that novelty doesn’t lead to anything good. The way we’ve always done things works fine, so why change? But then later, after you overcome a difficult stage in life, the one that came before seems less terrible. It’s just another chapter in your life story that shapes you.
The first time I walked into the store for Players, my heart started to race. I was sure that everyone was going to point at me, whisper, and unmask me as a newbie. But the only person who lifted his head was the man behind the counter. And he looked at Hunter, not at me. Hunter nodded back, gave me some parting words, and went outside. I was left completely alone to wander the aisles which were overflowing with all sorts of gear.
Players were enthusiastically bustling about among the clothing. Some of them would go over to the guy at the counter, show him things, bicker, and retreat. In short, it was a typical thrift store. The only difference was that it smelled of dust here — not normal dust, but the kind that reminded me of cinnamon.
Well, what did I expect? After all, the clothing was enchanted. I picked up a tag that was attached to an ordinary-looking linen shirt.
Loose Garment.
+1 to Hand-to-Hand Fighting
+10% to regeneration of Stamina.
Price: 17 grams
That wasn’t even the most expensive item. Naturally, the selection here was pretty good, but the prices left something to be desired. Maybe it was because we were far from posh places like Moscow. After all, everyone knows that Versace clothing is much more expensive in a provincial boutique than in Italy.
But Hunter had said that we needed to clothe me. There had to be some rationale to this. So I began to scour the aisles, searching out the cheapest items. I threw clothes over my arm as I went along; later I’d choose the ones that would do the least damage to my wallet.
And the kind of clothes they sold here… I really didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. They looked like they all came directly out of some Peasant Spring 1789 fashion show. Most of the duds were made of an unadorned natural fiber: linen, cotton, wool, even jute. All I had to do was hold the small magic mirror next to them, and voilà: they immediately turned into relatively stylish synthetic jackets, skinny jeans, and Nike shoes. Charming!
“Hey, watch it!” a high resonant voice jolted me from my reverie.
Shit. I’d fallen so deep in thought I crashed into a Player — not particularly hard, but still not quite the best way to start a friendship...
[ ∞ ]
...I stopped dead in my tracks just in time. A thin guy with pale skin and sparse dark hair did the same. Question marks and a text box reading Magus hovered in the air above his head. We simultaneously charged to the right and then to the left.
Unexpectedly for me, the Player smiled. “I’ll go there, you go here,” he said. When he was almost past, he added, “You a newbie?”
“Yes,” I said, turning away and forcing my way among the aisles.
“Jan,” said the Player, sticking his hand out.
“Sergei.”
“I guess we’re from the same neck in the woods. I’m also from Noggle. I lived there my whole life.”
The whole puzzle suddenly came together in my head. So that’s why he was so friendly. Noggle was the world of the Korls. I was a Korl, even though there wasn’t a lot of Korl blood in me. But my appearance spoke for itself. So he decided...
“I’m not from Noggle. I’m from here.”
“Hahaha,” Jan laughed. “The Game really does a number on us. You get it? I’m just like you, only the other way round.”
The Players who were standing nearby started to look at us. Some of them were just curious, but others were staring in open disapproval. Those were the type of people who thought that libraries should be silent.
I lowered my voice. “To be honest, I don’t completely understand.”
“Look, I’m a human who lived all his life in Noggle. And you’re a Korl who’s lived all his life in the Cesspit. Funny, eh?”
I started to grasp it — really grasp it. It turned out that Jan was feeling the same shock as I was, but in his case it must have been extreme. You go through your life thinking you’re tall, blond, attractive. You can’t go past a mirror without flexing your muscles. But then — bam, it turns out that you’re a human whippet. So things weren’t yet so bad for me, after all.
“I used to wonder all the time why I was so afraid of the cold,” Jan went on. “Just like my mother. Everyone mocked me, saying that I was a sub-Korl. But that’s what I am. Can you imagine how strong the human blood is in me that I don’t even look like one of my kinsmen?”
I nodded even though to be honest, I couldn’t really imagine it.
“Six months ago a few Players had a bit of a scuffle not far from my home. And ta-da! I woke up like this. At first I used to get really upset, especially when I found out that I could be killed just because I was also a Player now. Then I heard about the Cesspit. So I told my people, who were commoners, that I was going on a trip. Then I just came here. You have no idea how awesome this place is compared to Noggle!”
“Oh really?”
“Well, yeah.” Jan started counting on his fingers. “There’s central heating, sewage, cars, TV, Internet...
For some reason I started liking my supposed homeland less and less. It looked like they had no creature comforts there at all. And on top of that it was really really cold. Not the kind of place I’d love to explore.
“But the coolest thing you have here,” Jan’s voice dropped nearly to a whisper, “is pornography.”
I snorted. “Oh yes. It took humanity a long time to evolve to that stage.”
“No, seriously. Where I’m from you rarely see a woman’s bare arm. And God forbid if the Possessors find out that you thought something shameful.”
“Possessors?
“The upholders of the law and morality. But that’s for the commoners, not the Players. Anyway, you must be sick and tired of listening to me already.”
You could say that. Jan was obviously a motormouth, but any information I could get was an advantage. I needed to get the lay of the land — or in this case, lands.
“Are you stocking up?” Jan nodded at the clothes I was holding.
It was a rhetorical question, so I didn’t answer. But Jan examined the clothing like he was in charge, letting out a snort every so often.
“The most important thing to understand here is that you can get garbage or a treasure for the same amount of money. It’s a thrift store. You’ve chosen garbage. Don’t be offended. Come with me for a second. I saw something over there.”
Jan dragged me toward a pile of clothing on the other side of the shop. He rummaged about and pulled out a knitted sweater with no neck.
“Hold this.”
Damaged clothing of Speed.
+5 to Athletics.
+20% to sensitivity to the Air spell.
Price: 8 grams
“What’s this sensitivity thing? Will air mages be able to smoke me more easily?”
Jan waved my question away. “Give me a break. These days you can count the number of good wizards on one hand. You can’t do better for 8 grams with such an awesome addition to Athletics. Hold these pants.”
He held out a simple piece of jute fabric, the kind that is usually used to hold potatoes. But these so-called pants also sported bizarre incandescent runes.
Rascal’s Trousers
+3 to Bargaining.
+1 to Persuasion.
Price: 14 grams
“Keep your commoner shoes for now. In any case, you won’t be able to afford anything good here. If I take a quick trip to Moscow, I might bring something back for you.”
“Thanks for your help,” I said sincerely.
“You’re welcome. I used to be a newbie once, too. Also, I like helping because you see how much we have in common. It’s like you and I ended up on opposite sides of the mirror. A Korl in the land of humans and a human in the land of Korls. You couldn’t make that up. Well, Sergei, if you need anything, just let me know.”
“How will I find you? How many houses down from the Gatekeeper are you?”
“Only newcomers live here. If you need me, call. You know how to use a phone, don’t you?”
Jan smiled, making it clear he was teasing me. He was right: I shouldn’t have stooped to Neanderthal level. I pulled out my cell phone. There was no signal, but it basically worked fine. I put his number in my contacts.
“See you,” Jan shook my hand and headed to the door.
“Are you buying anything, man?” the shop assistant asked me. Or he could be the shop owner, I couldn’t really tell.
He emphasized the word “man” ever so slightly, apparently hinting at my Korl features. I grabbed the clothes chosen by my personal stylist and went over to him.
“These. But there’s something wrong with the price. There’s a mistake.”
“Is there? No, everything’s right.”
“Pants can’t cost 14 grams. Eleven is more like it.”
“Pardon me?”
“I’m saying that you could give me a discount.”
I need to confess that I couldn’t bargain to save my life. I was a lousy haggler. I hated going to markets because the skill of the seasoned merchants with their frostbitten fingers and smoky voices was way superior to mine. And in the supermarkets, the only thing you could contest was a price tag that didn’t correspond to the receipt. So I was pretty nervous right now. Considering my zero level, I had good reason to feel that way.
“OK, 13 grams of dust for the trousers,” the vendor looked at me disagreeably.
Your Bargaining skill has increased to level 1.
Good. It might have had something to do with my race’s talent for Rhetoric, but what difference did it make? The rule of thumb is that if something ain’t broken, don’t fix it.
“There’s just one problem. The pants are kind of long. Is there a tailor around here who can hem them?”
The clerk snorted and suppressed a smile. “Newbie?”
“Yes.”
“Go behind the screen, change, and you’ll see for yourself.”
I marched into the fitting room, if you could call it that: an old mirror next to the wall and a curtain on a semicircle-shaped rod. I changed into my newly purchased clothes and examined myself. I looked rather humble, but overall not too bad. The sweater wasn’t a sack, and I wouldn’t have to shorten the pants: in fact, they looked like they’d been fitted by a skillful tailor for a festival of medieval reenactors.
I took out my little mirror. My reflection was wearing a pair of jeans and a trendy pullover. Funny.
Once I got outside, I bumped right into Hunter. And I noticed something interesting: if before the other Players had hardly paid any attention to me, now they were looking at us with badly concealed curiosity. Evidently my neighbor was a figure of some weight here.
He looked me over, nodded in satisfaction, and motioned toward the way out. “How much did you spend?”
“A little over 20.”
“Not bad. Not bad at all. I thought you’d squander at least half of what you had. Why didn’t you buy any shoes?”
“There wasn’t a very good selection and they were expensive,” I parroted Jan.
Hunter raised a quizzical eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Had I managed to surprise him? Just you wait. I was just getting warmed up.
“Now let’s talk business,” he said. “If you need money, you can take a mission at the Syndicate. Come on, I’ll show you.”
We walked around the thrift store, plunging deeper into the maze of intertwined little lanes. Hunter stopped by a two-story building. There were at least as many Players here as on the square: Archali, humans, a few of those orange-skinned creatures, and a couple of the dark beings I’d seen at Tavern. But there were no Korls in sight.
Hunter went inside. I followed him. There was nothing at all there that showed the least hint of style. The wooden furniture that had seen better days; a bar, a weapon rack at the far end of the room, and a staircase in the middle leading up. The room was dominated by a black bulletin board with sheets of paper tacked to it.
“There aren’t a lot of missions right now; you need to come in the morning,” Hunter explained, pointing at the sheets of paper.
“Can I take a look?”
“Of course.”
I went over to the board and started reading.
Werewolf
Mission from the Order of Guards
Charged with: killing two commoners
Sentence: death
Proof of completion: head
Location: Smolensk Region, near the village of Merlino
Reward: 250 grams
Talsian the Blood Mage
Mission from the Order of Guards
Charged with: killing 3 Players and 26 commoners
Sentence: death
Proof of completion: head
Location: unknown
Reward: 2 kg
Four-leaf clover
Mission from the Order of Alchemists
Required: collect 10 plants that are celebrated as the luck of the leprechauns.
Location: Northern Ireland
Reward: 500 grams
Volot
Mission from the Order of Diplomats
Charged with: behaving aggressively toward Players, causing Players slight bodily harm.
Sentence: persuasion to obedience
Location: Siberia, where the Nizhnaya Tunguska and Chiskova Rivers meet
Reward: 600 grams
Chorul
Mission from the Order of Seers
Required: locate the site of the Chorul’s murder
Location: Russia
Reward: 300 grams
