Latludious and Yleen stepped out onto a balcony and before them was a vast arena, in the center of which sat the boss, about two yards tall, with a hammer in its hands and wearing thick armor beyond the reach of an ordinary man. Nika confirmed the information.
That’s right, it killed Rdrag and Mercyaa.
Noted.
Yleen touched the rail and leaned down. The boss sat motionless, seeming as if it were dozing. Directly behind it, in the corner at two o’clock, was a passageway. The Lord took out his binoculars and looked closely and saw shell casings and bullet marks.
“What are we going to do?” Latludious asked.
Yleen took out a B rank self-deploying scanner and activated it and asked:
“Can we get to that passageway without a fight?”
“Why take such a risk?”
“Can we or not?”
Latludious pressed his lips together, glanced sideways at Yleen, and answered:
“I can try the Gravity Reduction spell. We won’t fly over the boss’ head, but we won’t make too much noise as we descend.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
Latludious cast the spell, and, as if floating on an invisible parachute, they descended into the arena and passed the boss. Yleen took a screenshot of its appearance. Already in another dark tunnel, he looked at the many boot marks and prints of heavy armor and wrote to Hebanyac, who told him what had actually happened.
I can hunt them down and kill them all, the military commander added.
Then how do we explain to the players why all the members of the scouting team from the Top Secret guild suddenly died? It’s one thing when it happens to some mercenaries, another thing when those on everyone's radar are involved. Keep hunting the Hashashins.
Latludious stopped and asked for a moment to catch his breath.
“All right,” Yleen replied.
The mage closed his eyes and came to life as the monster Mornazhar, who inhabited every crevice of this subterranean realm, and examined the cave with the glowing gate next to which Illyseh and Ronnie lay.
Are they still lying there? Vvy inquired.
Yes. As soon as they get up and talk, I’ll know what happened.
I’m relying on you.
Latludious rested his hands on his knees and exhaled and stood up and said:
“I’m ready. Shall we go?”
Yleen nodded and answered:
“Let’s go.”
***
The black and unsightly floor reflected the light of a thousand screens on three tiers on either side of the walls and two rows in the very center. In front of them, behind comfortable and large office chairs, whose color blended with the dark surroundings, sat three hundred overseers in white robes. They pounded the virtual keyboard with their fingers, feeling the hall with a psyche-pressing, squeaky sound.
Standing at the main entrance were two soldiers in uniforms comprising a dozen lightweight alloys that form an exoskeleton, equipped with anti-electrical and laser systems, and advanced weapons capable of leaving the enemy in ashes in an instant. Masks resembling a gas-masks hid their faces, and a black cotton cap covered their heads.
By the north wall, on the podium where the holograms of the monsters alternated, sat the commander-in-chief in a light, comfortable uniform, decked out with medals and decorations. His weapon was a pistol, holstered at the waist, which shimmered with different colors. No one except a dozen high-ranking officers and a secret group of developers knew exactly what it could do, but there were rumors it could fire self-directed bursting bullets. The rumors also said that the Commander-in-Chief preferred to improve upon the old weapons since people had lost the ability to fight and defend themselves against them. No one really knew what it was, so it was everybody’s duty to whisper about it during a break, throwing one ridiculous assumption on top of another.
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The commander-in-chief took off his “Aaron” nametag and reattached it to his uniform - a little higher - and put his fist to his cheek and tapped his fingers on the table. Several chief programmers and developers - some in suits, others in shorts and T-shirts - were standing beside him, discussing something heatedly.
On the ceiling, a hanging column silently broadcast news through projection screens showing rallies and uprisings of people in different parts of the world. The system scanned and recognized faces, transferred them to the data center, and switched independently to new channels.
Some supervisors rushed from one workplace to another. Some laughed and whispered to their neighbor, while others sat in silence, like immortal statues that embodied the dullness and perishability of this modern world. One of them, the one at table twelve, began to fall asleep and yawn. The leftmost screen displayed a vision from Illyseh’s point of view, the center screen displayed a vision from Ronnie’s point of view, and the right screen was blank. Both players were lying unconscious face down in a cave on the ground.
The commander-in-chief approached him in a quiet step, scratching his white and puffy mustache under his nose, coughed, and said:
“Don’t fall asleep. Your shift is about to end.”
“Yes, sir. One hour to go.”
“How long have they been lying unconscious?”
The supervisor adjusted his thick-lens, gold-rimmed glasses and looked at the timer in the lower-left corner of the screen and responded:
“Twenty-three hours and forty-three minutes.”
“Are there any changes?”
“Only on the physical level, so to speak. According to the AI data, before, only light magic flowed through the magical veins on Illyseh’s skin. Now darkness filled a quarter of them. Ronnie got a twenty-fifth level and an unknown magical aura. We’ll find out what it does. We have encountered nothing like that yet. Otherwise, his internal organs are functioning normally, with only an elevated heart rate of 150-160 beats per minute, but it’s not life-threatening.”
“Why is it so high?”
“As far as I can tell,” he said, fixing his glasses again. “Something is happening to them on a subconscious level, but we won’t know what it is until they wake up and discuss it. We’ve seen a similar phenomenon in Hebanyac’s illusion magic before. It’s almost the same thing.”
“These veins here, um... like... um...” said the Commander-in-Chief, embarrassed, “dark magic, is it like orcs?”
“Yes, sir.”
“It appeared while he was asleep?”
“That’s right.”
“All right, then. Report when they’ll wake up.”
“Yes, sir.”
The supervisor adjusted his nametag with the name “Bakir” on it and took a couple of sips of coffee from the thermos and yawned and took off his glasses and wiped his watery eyes. Ten minutes later, he saw Illyseh and Ronnie on their feet. He brought the third screen out of sleep mode and there was a pile of collected data and encrypted codes. Bakir crunched his fingers and immediately wrote something down and called the military to him. Five of them came up to him and put on headphones and nodded at him:
“Turn on the sound,” Aaron said.
He pressed the record and broadcast button.
“Can’t hear anything.”
“They are still silent, sir.”
Ronnie opened the HUD and saw the message:
Your level has increased to 25.
Congratulations! You have reached a new checkpoint!
Change in stats:
Strength 5.9 (+0.1 increase at the next level) – first modification.
Agility 17.3 (+0.3 increase at the next level) – third modification.
Reaction 3.7 (+0.2 increase at the next level) – no modification.
Magic 0.6 (+0.4 increase at the next level) – no modification.
Amount of experience 66%
Mana count 0 out of 10
Then he looked with frightened and round eyes at his comrade. Illyseh stared at his palms. The first was as black as tar, the second was as bright as the sun on a clear day.
“Do you feel the same way I do?”
“Are you talking about magic?”
“No, about what’s in our heads.”
“Yeah. My brain’s about to explode,” Ronnie answered, and then he collapsed and disconnected.
The military made a lot of noise and got all agitated. Bakir turned to them and said:
“They ran out of playing time.”
“Why didn’t you extend it?”
“Because that would have raised suspicions.”
Illyseh deployed the protective tent, dragged Ronnie inside, and passed out as well.
Aaron touched the transparent sensor mounted on his temple, and two soldiers standing by the front door ran up to him.
“I have a bad feeling about this. Hook up to the smart home systems of their apartments and monitor their every movement. Listen to the calls and record every word. We need to know what happened there.”
“Yes, sir,” they said and took him aside and asked, “if anything goes wrong, shall we deal with them?”
“If they go to the press, catch them and send them to the interrogation room; I’ll deal with them myself. If anything happens to Blake, you answer with your head.”
“Sir?”
“What is it?”
“Do you know him?”
“How about we go out for a coffee and have a heart-to-heart talk? Get out of here! Get on with your mission!” Aaron shouted and watched the soldiers until they were out the door, and then he said quietly, “Fucking hell. Gotta stop being so nice.”