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4. A bulge?

4. A bulge?

The next morning, I tried to enter the community hub. But the voice intoned the same message. "To enter the community hub, each hero must first prove they are worthy"

I entered the gray room instead and began searching through the requests.

Four requests were lined up, after two hours these were the only ones that matched my hopes of success. Every request 5 points or higher were automatically rejected by me, I had no hopes to accomplish them.

I still left the eating request in as it appeared to be a group activity, not an actual difficulty measure. My real concern with that request was if the eating contest wasn't harmless fruit pies. It seemed popular though, someone new seemed to join in every 10 minutes.

Eating Contest - 2 points entry, 90 points reward

Deliver a Letter - 3 points reward

Find a lost ring - 3 points reward

Clean SCP-173's room - 4 points reward

The SCP thing struck a really faint bell, but I couldn't tell what. The letter delivery sounds a lot like the the cake delivery request, and I already knew how that ended. So I expect I'd be trying to avoid someone... Which reminds me, I couldn't understand the language last time either.

The other one is the lost ring, but it's frightfully vague. I think I might keep the ring after finishing it, which is something I'm inclined towards. There was a faint hope that the ring would be useful. It also sounds like I don't have to fight anyone, just try find it. But if that's the case, 3 points? There's definitely difficulty in it.

If I had to measure it against the cake request, then I'd definitely say 1-2 points of the difficulty is just finding the ring. And the other points are because there's a trick, maybe another competitor or perhaps monsters to fight. The best example I could think of is that the ring is inside a wolf den.

It's also a ring, so there obviously should be humans. But the chances were solid I can't speak their language and thus inquire about it. Charades might work, but they may also think I'm trying to say something lewd when trying to act out a ring on my finger.

I'm leaning towards the clean room request, it strikes a chord in me. I've seen that name before, vaguely. Something about paranormal activity? I stared thoughtfully at it for a minute.

Finally I sighed, I can't take that request. It sounds good, but 4 points?

Having made my decision, I reached out and took the request I'd chosen. The voice then spoke, again broadcasting across the world.

"You've chosen to Deliver a Letter for a reward of 3 points. One point has been deducted as the price. Eight points remain"

"Step on the transportation, when ready say 'transport'"

I didn't go straight onto the black disk however, instead I held the piece of paper as I moved back towards my living quarters. I was relived that the paper still remained in my grip, resisting my sweaty palms and failing to crease. Ready to be used when I was ready.

Once there, I took a drink and ate some bread, looking at the paper still in my hand. Sitting on the mattress, I tried to calm down, my fingers were trembling as they clutched the paper.

I took deep breaths, drawing one in before letting it back out.

Finally I let out a soft sigh and stood back up, it's time to leave then. I felt refreshed, slightly sore and maybe a little weak in my limbs, but it was as good as I was going to get.

Moving back to the room, I stood on the black disk, grimacing as I looked at the paper in my hands. I wish I found an easier request.

"Transport"

There was a slight jolt to the side, then I was standing inside a small store. I looked around curiously, this store seemed modern. Overly so. Why, if it wasn't for the utterly unrecognizable symbols that replaced actual words. I'd think I'm right at home!

"Η επιστολή σας, κύριε." a guy interrupted me, holding out a slim letter. I had a bitter expression on my face as I turned to him, already realizing this translation issue was happening again.

"You speak english?" I hopefully inquired.

"Κύριε? Εδώ είναι η επιστολή σας ..." he seemed a little concerned as I didn't immediately take it. Finally I sighed, not his fault I supposed.

Grabbing the letter and immediately sticking it down my pants, I ignored the startled expression on the postmaster's face as I stepped out of the small store and into a busy modern day city.

It smelled like home, it sounded like home and if it wasn't for the men standing in duos on some roofs with guns scanning the crowds, I might believe this world was civilized. The cars were also a bit different, with another gunman on the ground hailing them at random to speak with them briefly before letting them go, his fellow watching their surroundings warily.

They all wore an uniform, army I guess. I looked at one a little too long and he glared at me, lifted his gun strap in intimidation as I hurriedly looked back down. The streets I peered at, even in the far distance I could see men on rooftops.

What was this, an army occupation? I didn't recognize this place either, not from my hometown obviously. Invaded country?

Thankfully my clothing didn't stick out here, my clothes were still cleanish and a lot of people seemed to be wearing casuals. They all had harried looks on their faces, worry lines worn deeply into their faces and strangely I didn't see any kids.

Schoolday? Hope I don't get picked up, I should look old enough to pass as an adult I mused.

When I had accepted the letter I'd glanced at the address on the envelope, but it was utter gibberish. The letter itself didn't seem confidential either, the postmaster didn't look very concerned about it. So it was probably safe to openly carry it and ask for directions.

Looking around for someone that looked agreeable, my eyes landed on a well dressed woman that strode through the crowds as if there was no one there. She stood out in her tailored black business suit that reeked of wealth, a black orb held loosely in her hand as she walked with purpose, the gunmen carefully avoiding looking her way. The way the crowd seemed to part had caught my attention, her figure held it.

But what really alarmed me was the sheer intensity of her gaze towards the post office which I'd just left. She stepped inside, and I had a sudden gut feeling that I must run. She was doubtlessly my competitor this time, and she looked capable.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

I started pushing my way through the crowds, drawing attention from the men on the rooftops as I made my way through the streets in a hurry. A few of them started to talk on radios, but I had no time to slow down as I left the busy streets behind and entered less well traveled roads.

Not as many men on the roofs now, instead they seemed to be sitting on a bench watching everyone, patrolling down the paths with an eye out. Occasionally they'd pick up their radios then talk to it for a few seconds, then glance at me. They'd then answer back into the radios without approaching me or expressing the intent to. For that, I was glad.

I knew they were talking about me, but I was more afraid of that woman than I was of them. Evidentially this wasn't a violent occupation by enemy forces as the people hadn't seemed fearful, just exhausted. A leadership coup? Keeping an eye on me at any rate, I didn't doubt that if I kept acting strangely I'd be picked up.

I wanted directions, and I wanted to finish this as soon as I could. I briefly considered approaching one of the soldiers then shuddered. I don't speak the language and that sounds like something to investigate. Instead I looked around as I slowly walked through the roads, trying to recognize one of the many street signs I saw until I found an older woman who seemed nice enough.

Approaching her, I took out the letter from where she couldn't see, ignoring the disgust on the two soldiers faces as I presented it towards her. She blinked at me curiously, then made to take the letter from me.

Shaking my head, I pointed inside to the address on the letter. Her eyes then sparkled in understanding as she gave me a small smile. Speaking rapidly, she pointed forwards, left, forwards as she spoke before she finished with a question? I think.

I nodded, widely smiled at her and left. That's an idea actually, I could point at my mouth and indicate I'm mute. That's why I can't talk. Then point at my ears and indicate I'm deaf. That's why I don't understand. Then when they write for me, I point at my eyes and indicate I'm illiterate. Foolproof. They'll be forced to point directions out to me.

The first two streets were simple enough, she said to go forwards then left. I hope she didn't say something like "Go on the second road" because if so...

The letter did have a house number on it, luckily enough. Weird that, it shouldn't look the same. So I easily marked off the streets which had numbers going the wrong way.

On the way I heard a loud explosion, was that woman fighting someone? It sounded far away, lots of the soldiers were heading over there which suited me just fine.

I faithfully followed the instructions she gave me to the best of my ability down the streets and as I was counting the house numbers to the house I wanted, we saw each other.

The lady saw me, I saw her. I didn't dare hesitate to give her a reason as I strode past her, making my way to the house just a short distance away. But then her eyes flickered to my crotch. Instinctively I tried to protect it using my hands as her mouth twitched in a small smile before flattening out again.

"I believe you have something to give me?", she had the gall to smile cheerfully, her voice oddly musical. I knew I was busted, she was definitely here to take the letter, the language thing only proves it.

I carefully schooled my features and firmly placed my hands to the sides. "Madam, I am a god fearing Christian" my voice wavered with fear in the center "And I've decided to save it for the woman who shall be my wife"

She looked at me in disbelief, then back to the tent in my trousers. I placed my hands back over it as she sneered.

Decisively less cheerfully she demanded "Hand it over. Would you believe I don't like killing defenseless children?"

"I'm not a child!" I protested, that glance she threw my crotch had rattled me.

"You don't even know how to fight, and you somehow represent your entire world" she sneered, "I think you are a child"

"I have no choice!"

"And I don't care". She said bluntly, her brow frowning with irritation. "Hand it over, or I'll cripple you"

I paused with indecision, she seemed gentle? Maybe she'll let me keep it if I give her a sob story.

I looked around for the army that had previously occupied the rooftops, but they'd all left. I heard a soft rustle from her and when I turned back, she was pointing a small black rod into my face.

Probably not then.

"Well?" she softly asked, her voice melodious to my ears. She leaned in with a whisper that crawled over my skin "I don't want to kill a child".

Her words didn't sound very sincere.

Fumbling, I pulled the letter from my pants and offered it to her with shaky hands. She looked at it with an expression of distaste, then looked down at my pants again for a reason I couldn't discern.

"Did you piss yourself" she scowled.

I felt vaguely insulted at this, but had only the courage to mumble "no".

She grimaced, reluctantly taking it by the corner with just two fingers as she tugged it out of my grasp.

I sighed with mixed feelings, another request failed. But I lived.

"How old are you?" she suddenly asked, her rod still pointing straight at my face. She didn't even look away from the formerly-white letter in her grasp.

I felt my prey senses tingling.

"13, I matured early" I squeaked out.

"You have facial hair?"

"I matured really early"

She threw me a really suspicious gaze, and I hurried to elaborate "I come from a long line of men"

I held my breath in tension, then as she lowered the black cylindrical solid rod we both released a sigh. One of relief, the other of disappointment.

She turned away, unafraid to show her back to me as she strode the few steps to the house and knocked on the door. I stood there watching her, even as she studiously ignored me.

Half a minute later, the door was opened by an old grandma who looked us over with tired eyes.

"Letter for you" the predator smiled, holding it by the corner with as little skin contact as she could even as she offered it to the woman.

The old woman made an exclamation of surprise, then grimaced in disgust when she looked at the letter. When she reluctantly took it after some urging, my sweaty nervous self was transported home.

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