Eileen’s tone was mocking, but the leader of the Elites had a masterful way of transforming when speaking to those above his station; he massaged her ego, cried crocodile tears, bemoaned his creditors and disappearing sponsors, and begged for help.
“I sympathize,” Eileen answered dryly. “Did you hear? That’s right, I hit level 600! No, don’t even ask what reward I got for the achievement. You’ll find out in good time. I’m calling you to tell you I’m ready to meet and discuss terms.”
They agreed to meet at the Elites’ base in the Himalayas, hidden by impassable forests and mountains. A real fortress, the riches of its decor outshining the best hotel of any lunar resort.
All the officers went to meet the Supreme Legate. First some battle droids rolled out of her Lamborghini Madura, then the spectacular black-haired girl herself stepped out. She wore a conservative black dress. Her escort flyers divulged a varied squad of elite bodyguards.
“Miss Waters!” Fen said, scurrying over to her and bowing respectfully.
The guest was escorted into the building. Her guards split up – some went with her, some stayed outside. Liam had seen her before, but now Eileen looked simply mind-blowing.
Of everyone there, only the two of them seemed to fit naturally with the luxury interior of the base. It was like a museum inside, the walls bedecked with original neoclassical paintings, Fen Xiaoguang’s favorite kind.
“This place is cute,” Eileen said approvingly as she looked around the hall of the clan base. “Like a fairytale palace!”
“Is the Widowmakers’ base not like this?” Liam asked.
“I left the clan,” the girl said, shaking her head. “But no, it was different there. Not so… shiny. Ordinary interiors, modern materials. Plastic, glass, aluminum. But this floor is real wood, right? Woah!”
“We are the Elites, after all,” Fen answered proudly.
“Sure, sure… But if I were you, I’d keep a closer eye on my funds and spend a little less money on luxury. Profit before boasting, right, Fen?”
The clan leader laughed off the comment, but it was already obvious what Eileen meant – given the current situation, the cost of all this luxury seemed insane. More and more, the Elites seemed like a huge iridescent soap bubble ready to pop at any moment. The clan hunted down and recruited around a hundred of the very best crafters, fighters and just players with rare achievements that would improve the clan’s ranking and capabilities. They lured them in with a share of the profits and contracts with many zeroes, but now that the clan treasury was empty…
Overall, the meeting with Eileen Waters was life-altering. If they couldn’t come to an agreement, then the Elites might as well disband. Liam didn’t care, but Fen and Ignatius… Sure, any top clan would happily take on Criterror, but Mogwai, lowered as he was to level 166, would hardly be in demand now… Especially after all his blackmail and threats. He didn’t want to go back to the slums of Shenzhen, whatever it took.
In the conference hall, the nine legates sat down at a round table to discuss the conditions for getting help from Eileen, Supreme Legate and bearer of a unique class – Striking Blade of Innoruuk.
But, as per the convention of high society, first they discussed neutral subjects, particularly since there was a good one to focus on – the Demonic Games, which were streaming on the hall’s holographic walls.
“The worst Games in my memory,” Eileen said, frowning at Guy Barron Octius.
“Agreed!” Fen said, quickly picking up the conversation. “It’s been obvious since the start that Snowstorm is working with the Threat!”
“That’s debatable,” the guest argued. “But the fact that Scyth keeps getting lucky… I think there’s an AI on his side. What else could it be?”
“Why do you think that, Miss Waters?” Fen asked, his eyes narrowing.
“The clearest example is when Scyth ended up on what might have been the only floor where he could survive even with all his debuffs. The chance is one in six hundred and sixty-six. People have lost fortunes on roulette wheels.”
“True, and the chances there are a lot higher…” Fen nodded. “But the Cursed Chasm AI is controlled, unlike the one in big Dis. From which we can conclude that Scyth must have the support of the corporation itself.”
“Then why the disqualification?” Biancanova piped up.
“Remind me, how did that end again?” Liam asked venomously. “A vote in Sheppard’s favor!”
“Exactly right!” Fen exclaimed. “This whole flashy show is all according to Snowstorm’s script. It’s pretty suspicious that respected players took the cheater’s side, don’t you think?”
“Well, Hellfish the Traveler and the people from Modus are one thing, they’re in cahoots,” Liam said. “As far as I know, Hinterleaf is content with his alliance with the Awoken. But Loyola surprised me!”
“Yeah, no way Quetzal used that Aegis willingly…” sighed Cray, a former Exco. “I know him well, and Renato would never have helped Sheppard, especially after Kinema!”
“A hundred percent,” Angel agreed. “Renato is a man of strong principles. The only reason he’s even at the Games is to get revenge on the Threat. I’m sure the corporation put pressure on him. Him or Colonel…”
“And who put pressure on Destiny?” Eileen asked. “That bimbo from the Children of Kratos thinks everyone else is a waste of space, even me! Me, leader of the Widowmakers, an allied clan! What’s some low-class kid to her?”
“Scyth saved her from Marcus,” Ronan rumbled, stroking Laneiran’s arm. “Jansson isn’t one to mess with. Lan learned that herself back before Children of Kratos, when she was in Warsong with Marcus.”
“Yeah…” Laneiran shivered. “Marcus is an animal. He’s the reason I left! I can’t imagine why Destiny ever went to him for help! Better to lose than be indebted to a man like that.”
“I understand you perfectly,” Eileen nodded, and her voice sounded sympathetic. “I hate creepy jackasses like Marcus! They only ever want one thing… When I free you all, let’s go smash through all Warsong’s castles!”
For a few seconds, nobody said anything, afraid to scare away their luck.
“So you’re going to rescue us?” Angel inquired timidly.
“Not only that. I’m going to teach you how to level up fast, because we have a lot to do… But first, I want to explain something.” Eileen fixed Fen with a tense look. “Back in the basement of my former castle, you told Scyth that you know how to get onto his island with the Sleepers’ temple and the clan base. Were you bluffing?”
Mogwai thought for a moment, shook his head:
“No. Not only do I know how, but I’ve been there.”
“Good,” Waters relaxed, her face smoothing out. “Alright, then. You know that the Destroying Plague has been joined by eight dark New Gods: Ahriman, Ravana, Iblis, Skadi, Cthulhu, Kimi and Baron Samedi. Each of them is to become the patron of one of the legates.”
“Eight gods? But there are nine legates!” Liam said.
“Exactly,” Eileen nodded, looking at him with approval. “The Nucleus needs a ninth god. The Old Goddess of Death, Morena. The only way to reach her is through her cult…”
“Morena’s cultists were seen with Scyth before they left the temple of the Sleepers in the desert!” Criterror burst out, then blushed and looked at Eileen: “Sorry for interrupting you, Miss Waters. I’ve carefully studied recordings of the canceled battle.”
Eileen ignored him:
“Anyway, I know that they’re hiding on Scyth’s island. The deadline for the Nucleus’s quest presses, so I’m going to need help from all of you.”
“What else do you need us to do, Miss Waters?” Fen asked, leaning forward and rubbing his hands. The mood of the world’s former top player had improved. “I’m so tired of doing nothing!”
“While the Games continue, we only level up,” Eileen shrugged. “There are mobs up to level one thousand in Thunder Strait, and enough space for us all to spread out and mai
ntain Immortality. Right after the Games, we’ll need to destroy the temple of the Sleeping Gods in the desert, but I can handle that myself.”
“There’s a theory that Scyth’s power depends on the number of Sleeper temples,” Ignatius said thoughtfully.
“That’s not just a theory, it’s true,” Eileen nodded, casting a measuring glance his way. “We’ll weaken the Threat and assemble an undead horde – sea creatures, flying beasts and infantry. As soon as the Games are done, we attack Scyth’s island, destroy the last temple of the Sleepers, eliminate the Threat if we can, and make contact with Morena through her followers. We do it all as soon as possible, so that in a month, nobody even remembers the class-A Threat and the Sleepers.”
“And then?” Fen asked, gulping.
“Whatever we want! We can go to Meaz or Terrastera, explore the Bottomless Ocean. We’re undead! Fen, you asked about my reward for First Ever: Level 600! Well, they gave me Icy Path.”
Casting a triumphant glance at the legates’ flat faces, she explained:
“It freezes the ocean’s surface for half a mile ahead. For an hour. The result is a solid road on water, a hundred and thirty feet wide.”
“Cooldown?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
Understanding dawned on the faces of the others, followed by surprise, then excitement:
“Holy shit!” all the officers of the Elites said almost in unison.
“My thoughts exactly,” Waters said, smiling widely. “Now I can reach any point in Dis. Along with my undead horde. Right now, any one of my minions could take down the entire army of the Commonwealth solo – I’ve been leveling them up with Plague Boost. I advise you do the same, by the way.”
“The heavens themselves sent you to us, Miss Waters!” Fen exclaimed, his voice shaking.
“Don’t be so quick to celebrate, Mr. Xiaoguang. You haven’t heard my terms…”
An hour of formalities later, and Eileen was the new leader of the Elites. Fen kept his post as founder and honorary president. And got a chance to get square with his creditors.
It goes without saying that Liam forgot all about leaving the Elites. A few weeks, maybe a month, and he could forget all about what Aunt Elizabeth and Otto Hinterleaf had to say about a damn thing.
Chapter 1. Tough Decisions
I SNOOZED FOR MOST OF THE JOURNEY to Cali Bottom, trying to get some sleep for what was to come. I knew that as soon as I got back to the base and logged into Dis, sleep would be a luxury. Hairo and Willy talked low, trying not to make any noise, reviewing dossiers of candidates for new membership in the clan.
When the security officers woke me, the flyer was still en route – we were crossing the Caribbean.
“Alex! Something’s happening…” Hairo said.
“What?” I muttered, rubbing my eyes, which refused to open.
“Snowstorm sent out an emergency message!” Willy raised the volume and brought up a holoprojection.
Chloe Cliffhanger appeared before me. The Community and Connections director spoke hotly, the gold rim of her glasses glinting:
“…assert that Destiny Windsor’s announcement has no basis in reality whatsoever. It is an unfounded conspiracy theory…”
Leaving Chloe’s voice active, Willy brought up a feed from another channel – all the news was showing millions of non-citizens gathering at the borders of the citizenship districts all over the world, demanding that the defective capsules be fixed.
“…you must cease this disorder immediately!” Chloe continued. “Otherwise, Snowstorm will recall all non-citizen virtual immersion capsules in accordance with its agreement with the UN, and they will not be subject to replacement!” She blinked, took a deep breath, continued more calmly: “Come to your senses, people! You’ll lose your jobs..!”
Switching off the sound, Hairo asked rhetorically:
“Better to be alive and unemployed, or dead and a miner?” Without waiting for an answer, he changed the subject: “Alright, Alex, since you’ve slept, this is a good time to discuss business. I suggest we start with the newcomer…”
A holoprojection of a short and skinny young man appeared before me. His back was bowed, his eyes and shoulders narrow, with a five o’clock shadow on his chin and beneath his nose.
“Hiros the ninja, known as Tomoshi Kurokawa in real life,” Willy said. “Twenty-one years old, born in Kyoto. Total social recluse. Gets stressed out and feels uncomfortable when talking.”
“Hikikomori,” Hairo added. “People who renounce integration in society, preferring social isolation instead. He lost consciousness when he first met Hung.”
“Seriously?” I barely held back a smile.
“Seriously,” Hairo frowned. “And he’s a man of the Triad.”
“What?!”
“To his credit, he admitted to his contacts right away. At our first meeting in Kinema.”
“You guys were in Kinema?!”
“Yeah, Willy and I have characters,” Hairo chuckled. “Why not? Colonel made it a requirement. Anyway, to the point. Tomoshi, or Tommy, as Rodriguez and Lee have started calling him, got on the wrong side of the Triad. He wasn’t killed, because they decided to use him instead.”
“How?”
“They got him scared, made him think his only chance was to go find you. Which he did, and even got a promise of protection. Tommy himself never suspected that he was the main object of an espionage operation. Some of it Willy and I figured out, some of it your almighty Behemoth told us.”
“Yeah,” Willy nodded. “I told you the Sleeper scares me, right? Anyway, we had to rack our brains to figure out a way to get the kid out of Kyoto.”
“How’d you get him out?”
“Same as we did you. Right out from under the Triad’s nose. Roj holed up with him and some Wild Ones in the Siberian Zone for three days, then took him to the Cameroon Cloaca, then to us in Cali Bottom…”
The speakers in the cabin pinged. A woman’s voice told us that we were approaching our destination. As we landed, Hairo shook his head:
“Don’t expect a warm welcome. I told the boys not to come up to the roof…”
The landing platform was indeed empty when I walked across it in a camouflaging baseball cap. Only my bodyguards Maria Saar and Roj van Garderen were there to meet us.
Against my expectations, I wasn’t headed to my apartment – Willy pressed the button for the first floor in the elevator. The cabin dropped down rapidly, the doors opened and we walked out into the main corridor of the level, loud, spacious and bright, like a city boulevard. There were strangers all over.
When they saw me, the passersby stopped, gave way, watched as I went. People sitting on benches beneath trees jumped up to gawk at me.
Hung and Ed were seated at an intersection in the distance, outside the glass window of a shoe store. My clanmates hadn’t noticed me yet. The crowd streaming toward me kept hiding them from view.
Not only passing girls and women, but also some men stretched their arms out toward me, clapped me on the shoulder, shouted, and I didn’t know what to do. Every child dreams of becoming rich and famous, imagines what it’s like to walk on a red carpet, to have fans chanting his name. The trouble is, it never feels good, just scary – I might have walked through fire in the Games, but I still wanted safety, and to be far away from prying eyes.
Manny walked toward me, parting the crowd to make way for old Harold Furtado, Trixie’s grandpa, in his wheelchair.
“Our champion returns!” Harold wheezed, sounding less than happy about it. “Let my grandson go! He’s done his time, and I’ll give him a hiding to boot!”
“Harold, come on..!” Manny said. “Lay off the kid, he only just got back!”
I shook both their hands. Manny hugged me and clapped me on the back before they were pushed away.
In the time I’d spent at the Games, the apartment building had filled to bursting – the first wave of workers had moved in with their families, along with some Wild On
es from the Zones, and then all the new recruits that Ed and the security officers had carefully selected.
“Alex! Scyth! Alex! Scyth!” the crowd roared.
I squeezed my way toward my close friends: Ed, his sister Polyanna, and Hung. As I came closer, I saw the engineers Sergei Yuferov and Yoshihiru Uematsu. Tall Hung was the first to notice me over the heads of the crowd. He grinned and elbowed Ed, who met my eyes and smiled guardedly. They both started to push their way through the crowd toward me. Tomoshi-Hiros, who I also saw next to them, hovered off to one side and carefully avoided meeting anyone’s eyes, although he did bow in my direction.
As they approached, Ed grabbed me by the head and shouted in my ear:
Enemy of the Inferno (Disgardium Book #8): LitRPG Series Page 6
