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Chapter 1. Part 2. «A curse or a blessing?»

Five years before the «The Great War»…

Global Update No. 1—Exploration.

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Info #58: «The Nepril Desert» is one of the most dangerous places known by players at the moment. Deadly weather anomalies abound here, and monsters often hide under the cover of the sands.

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Info #59: The protective field of the tent does not give you a 100% guarantee that your character will be safe during a natural disaster. The safest place is your home in a city or a fortress.

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Ronnie climbed the cliff, clung to sharp stone ledges, small irregularities, and sometimes made do with tiny cracks, into which he crawled a finger or two. There was one thought in his head: "I would never dare to do this in reality". Adrenaline jumped to the limit. His eyes were bloodshot. Every minute, every centimeter, was difficult. An hour and a half later, he was finally at the top. His palms scratched and callused, he almost fell off once, thought it was the end, but at the last moment he was lucky to cling to a sturdy branch of the only growing pine tree resembling the shape of the letter "C".

On the surface of the outcrop, mostly, there was sand, which, like moon dust, scattered to the sides with each extra step. Time seemed to have stopped in this desolate hell, and only birds of prey flew overhead and flashed their flesh-hungry eyes, waiting for him to roast like a piece of meat in this hot frying pan. The fiery surface of the cursed earth, where the player's foot had not yet set, was felt even through the thick soles of beige military boots. The wet and sweat-smelling fabric of a desert field uniform, or, as it was usually called, "cookie dough, ", tightly hugged the body.

Ronnie was walking forward as a barely noticeable white spot, while small lizards ran from place to place and hid in his shadow. On a shoulder strap hung a Barrett M107A1 made of titanium and aluminum alloys. Its weight had decreased from 15 to 13 kilograms compared to its predecessor. There were 10 .50 BMG rounds in the magazine and 10 more in the waist bag, 2 of which were tracers. On the back was a white-and-yellow hiking backpack, and inside was a disassembled Mosin–Nagant rifle, just in case. Tactical army glasses protected his eyes from sand and rays, keffiyeh protected his head.

The body at the end of the journey cracked like a rotten tree trunk. More and more often he had to stop, catch his breath, stretch his back and shoulders. Heavy ammunition was not the only reason for such exhaustion. The road to a place called «The Nepril Desert» was very long and not the safest. He left before dark and walked for about eight hours from the nearest checkpoint through the thicket of the dense of Elgoreombdon forest and then for several more hours surrounded by rocks cracking in the sun, looking around and asking AI about climate change. So far, he was not in danger from anomalies. He asked it to send him an alert in case of any weather changes. He did not meet any monsters, either. Lucky. Otherwise, he would not be here on this day. From the border between the forest and the desert, he had to walk from memory, not understanding to the last whether he chose the right road. It was good enough that at least the compass was in his pocket. It would come in handy. The cliff was the last stage of the journey and the sniper position that he'd chosen in advance.

Turn on the interface, he said to himself.

HUD, similar to the one used in the distant 20th century’s video games, opened in his eyes.

On the top left, level 22.

Center-left stats:

Strength 5.4 (+0.2 gain to the next level) - first modification.

Agility 16.4 (+0.7 gain to the next level) - third modification.

Reaction 3.2 (+0.1 increment to the next level) - no modification.

Magic 0 (+0 increment to the next level) - no modification.

On the top right, the level of physical damage: healthy.

Stamina level: 2 / 15

Contribution points (CP): 3.447.518

At the very bottom, experience bar: 98%

"AI."

"At your service."

"Where did I meet the unidentified monsters two days ago?"

"Half a mile west of you."

"Roger."

He reached almost to the edge and climbed the highest rocky peak, and noticed how endurance dropped to one. Sweat poured like boiling water into his eyes. It was unbearable to breathe. The hot air burned his lungs. He wiped his face with a rag and took out a twenty-seven-fold binoculars with a rangefinder grid and saw a detachment of dark creatures on the desert plain below at eleven o'clock. They were barely noticeable small heads that had grown into their shoulders, there was no neck, their eyes were like two coins with diameters of only 20 mm, their body was black, purple blades pulsed on their hands, as if they had been torn off from the handle of a scythe. The one standing in the center was a wild boss (According to AI: a strong type of monsters that was not tied to a location. Up to this point, it was just a hypothesis written in the ancient books in the capital's library, but now there were proofs of the theory). The size of it reached 9.8 - 11.4 feet, the rest were tiny, about 3.2 feet, no more. Guessing the height of the monster, he applied the formula D = H / K and calculated the distance to the target ~ 1300 yards. Fortunately, there was no wind. The air was discharged. It was useless to talk about humidity.

He lowered the binoculars and got off the peak and dropped his backpack on the ground and took out a closed glass flask filled with a green transparent liquid and opened it and drank to the bottom. The stamina level had increased from one to ten. The pulse slowed down. He saw between two stones hidden under a lot of thin branches of Tussacandit (according to the AI—an analogue of the Earth's Saxaul) an excellent place for a sniper position and went there and installed titanium bipods on the straight surface of the white scorched earth and twisted the tight inertial bolt, which emitted a harsh metallic roar characteristic of rifles of this type because of a huge return spring.

"Love this sound," he said to himself, and smiled in anticipation of easy prey.

He left the backpack in the distance. The sight, like binoculars, had twenty-seven times magnification. Barrett M107A1 has a one-angular-minute spread. If the distance to the target was ~ 1300 yards, the deviation would be ~ 12 inches. He adjusted the flywheels of the sight and waited for the wild boss to turn its face in his direction, deciding to inspect the surroundings with his tiny eyes. The murky, dense air vibrated, distorting the figures in the far distance. Ronnie could only guess whether he would get it, but the game was worth the candle. According to estimates, the experience for the death of the boss will be about three percent, plus a CP bonus for adding a new monster to the bestiary. He did not expect to kill its henchmen. They always did not really give experience, even at the sight of danger. They usually run away on different sides at breakneck speed.

By the third hour, his legs and arms were numb, but he remained motionless. From time to time, a dry wind swept by and after a minute it calmed down again. Small creatures ran around the big one, bowed to him, and it laughed, holding its enormous belly of incommensurable size with both hands. The most unpleasant thing happened—because of the chaotic running of the henchmen. Sand rose, blocking the view. The wild boss had almost disappeared from sight.

Ronnie sighed and said:

"AI."

"At your service."

"Show me the player's ratings."

An interface with light green inscriptions opened on his pupils. A list of players, their levels, the amount of experience, and nicknames appeared in the center. He found himself in the seventh place.

1. 26th level. 54%.

2. 24th level. 4%

3. 23rd level. 50.1%

4. 23rd level. 13.8%

5. 23rd level. 4.5%

6. 22nd level. 87%

7. 22nd level. 85%

8. 22nd level. 76%

Even Ronnie could not explain how these players broke away from the others so much, considering that the game made it possible to play continuously for up to twenty-one hours a day, followed by a three-hour break. With rare exceptions, he adhered to this schedule. In addition, Ronnie was one of those who discovered new locations, like most of the players in the top 100. One way or another, he crossed paths with most of them, talked to some personally, traded with others, or shared the latest known information. However, with the top ten—things were different. He'd never met them. These guys were like ghosts.

Ronnie's right cheek came off the plastic-lined butt. He stretched his neck, shoulders and legs, looked back into the scope, the target out of sight. He pulled the earplugs out of his ears and sat down in a Bedouin pose, holding the rifle in his hands just in case, and opened the forum in the interface. The most popular section was magic, but he was not interested in this information. In the other sections, people did not seem to exist. Then Ronnie opened a virtual auction and checked to see if anyone posted any new and interesting weapons. Empty.

The sun was setting behind the curve of the horizon of the Nepril Desert. The monsters below turned black in the light of the blood-red sky. They did not stop their games in any way: they ran after each other, circled in a dance and sang songs in an unknown language. Up to this point, if Ronnie met monsters, they attacked him with the desire to kill, and if they did not see anyone in front of them, they were in search of a victim, wandering here and there, senselessly and uselessly, and it didn't matter if it was a player or some magical animal, they approached everyone. Such creatures one could compare, at best, with stupid zombies - something too classic for MMORPGs. They live in a certain zone, and they die there. Now Ronnie was one of the first to observe the unknown phenomenon. Truly amazing. No wonder the first global update had such a name. The deeper you go, the more extraordinary things occur. Players had not studied even one fiftieth of this world.

During the wait, stamina has fully recovered; breathing had steadied.

"AI."

"At your service."

"Are the rumors about conscious monsters true?"

"Yes, thanks to you."

Dusk came, with every new minute, there was less light left. The monsters finally stopped the unrestrained fuss and, together with their 9.8 feet leader, turned towards the cliff where Ronnie was lying and plopped down on the ground and watched the last red rays of the departing sun. They smiled, raised their little hands and waved, as if seeing off a good friend on a long journey. Especially plump henchmen fell drunk with fatigue on their backs and snored and wheeze.

Ronnie did not hesitate. He took aim, looking into the eyepiece of the sight at a distance of 1.1 - 1.4 inches, removed the safety and took two deep breaths and held his breath with empty lungs. His index finger pulled the trigger. A bright fire and a bullet with a starting speed of 853 m/s burst out of the muzzle. At the same moment, a jet of smoke escaped from the four-chamber muzzle brake compensator, as if from the nose of an angry bull. Small pebbles on the sand rose half a centimeter and flew off to the side, along with the first smoking cartridge case. The butt bit into the shoulder with a slight delay. After about 1.4 seconds, everything will be resolved. He knew that the sound needed two and a half times more time than the bullet to reach them, so the monsters would not react immediately. He kept his left eye open and pointed his right eye at the optical sight glass.

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

He saw how the bullet pierced through the boss's shoulder, nine inches to the left of the place where he was aiming initially, namely the head. The small henchmen suddenly stopped and, after a couple of seconds, became agitated and rushed around in a panic. Ronnie analyzed the error and corrected the direction and fired one more shot. This time, the bullet flew 19.6 inches to the right and killed several disoriented henchmen, piercing the first’s head, the second’s torso, the third’s leg. The others noticed the loss of their brethren only when the sound of the second deafening shot reached them. The boss swung absurdly from side to side, like a penguin, and a magical dome of purple fluorescent color formed around him.

"What the hell is that? AI, where did the monsters get magic from?"

"From the name of the game."

"This is the first time I've seen this in a year of playing. However, I like your warped humor," he grinned.

Ronnie made corrections, fired a third shot. 50 BMG crashed into the protective field, leaving a dent in it. Without wasting precious seconds, he pulled the trigger again. The bullet hit the same point. A thorough hole was formed, from which cracks appeared, similar to multiple paths of cloud-to-cloud lightning. The henchmen, who looked like mutated gnomes, covered their leader with their pot-bellied, clumsy bodies.

"Hmm, they act as if they are controlled by the big one."

The fifth bullet flew through the hole of the protective field and killed several henchmen on top of the house of cards they created. Ronnie cursed and raised his rifle and used the skill of the second modification of agility "Furious Rhythm", which strengthens the muscles of the body and reaction. He ran thirty yards to the east and hid in the shadow of a small baobab-like tree and placed the bipods on the dried flat surface of the ground and looked through the sight and saw how the protective field collapsed and the boss took a small henchman in its hand and endowed it with purple magical energy so that everyone there could see every vein and artery on its body. In the next second, he threw the subordinate into the place where Ronnie was a minute ago. The henchman screamed like a madman, and when it touched the ground, it exploded, spreading sand, dust, pebbles, mixed with magical purple grains of sand, smoothly falling to the ground in the dark.

"Fuck me! He threw it almost a mile and a half away!"

"Boss monsters can do more than that."

"Yeah, I believe so."

The creatures froze, they did not see whether the intruder was killed or not, and Ronnie, in turn, was in no hurry to make the next shot. He waited. A purple sphere rose from behind the boss and illuminated the mountain with the rays of a three-thousand-watt spotlight. Ronnie took his eyes off the eyepiece in time, did not move. He understood it was difficult to see a person 70.4 feet tall with the naked eye at such a distance, even on a clear sunny day. The boss shouted something, and the henchmen mumbled in response. A small part of the monsters dragged away the dead. Ronnie lowered the scope so that no direct rays hit it. He looked through the eyepiece to see if he had anyone at gunpoint. Nothing but sand. Stop. Trembling? He looked closer and noticed sand snakes, which a second later disappeared with the help of some sort of camouflage magic. Things were getting worse.

Ronnie lifted the Barrett back up, squinted and, without looking directly into the sight, pulled the trigger. The sixth bullet of 12.7 x 99 mm caliber flew by, and the seventh destroyed the artificially created sun. The shadows of twilight swept across the endless deserted arena. Another ten minutes and the mission will fail, cuz I won't see a thing, and one hour later the system will turn me off. Vision slowly recovered, getting used back to the semi-darkness. The bright highlights also disappeared.

There were three cartridges left in the magazine. He used the skill of the third rank of the agility parameter ‘Detection’ and the sinuous bodies of snakes became highlighted in yellow in his eyes. They were approaching the mountainside. Ronnie held his breath on the exhale and fired exactly three shots. Didn’t miss once. Then he reloaded the clip in four seconds, pulled the tight bolt, placing the first cartridge in the chamber, took aim and at the last moment saw the henchmen part, and the boss released a dark purple ray from its own palm, which in two counts shattered the stone peak behind his back. Right after the shot, the 9.8 inches tall creature hid back behind a man-made looking shield. Dust and rubble swept through the sniper position like a shock wave and everything would have been fine, but one fragment, the size of a tennis ball, bounced off Ronnie's leg and broke his fibula. It hurts, but not critically. A warning popped up in his eyes in red and accompanied by the sound of a siren, "The right leg is damaged!"

"I felt it," he said, but did not budge. "They haven't found me yet. They're shooting at random."

Some minions covered the boss's face, and the other part ran to the rocks. The AI's voice appeared in his head.

"It is advised to retreat. In case of death, you…"

"Disable tips."

Ronnie guessed where the boss was hiding behind a living wall, then imagined its huge clumsy carcass of a beer miser and roughly determined where its head was. The first bullet left a bloody mess from the henchman in the very center of the pyramid. The others immediately fell, losing their balance. A purple-red stream of blood flowed from the boss's chest. It screamed, staggered. Its puppets hooted and released hundreds of magical purple spears into the dark sky. They fell in a deadly star fall on the rock, plunging into the ground a meter or even closer from Ronnie's position. The fact that their attack failed was tantamount to a miracle. The foliage on the branches of the baobab caught fire.

As soon as Ronnie fired the second shot, the boss noticed a minor flash of fire on the mountain. It turned its pelvis, grabbed its head with its hands, and opened its mouth and eyes to an unnatural size. The bullet went to the side.

"Something’s clearly wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"When the boss used the protective dome, I hit the same spot three times, but when it comes to the head, the shots fly past."

The next two cartridges in the magazine were tracers. Time was running out. His sniper position was discovered, and his active skills were on cooldown. Almost all the henchmen took off and rushed forward into close combat.

"Such behavior was not part of my plans."

"As it seems, a lot of things were not part of your plans in this fight."

Ronnie panicked. During the next shot, his left arm twitched with tension and the yellow tracer flew a meter over the boss's head. He cursed, pulled himself together, exhaled. The fourth shot. A fiery trail of a bullet made its way through the darkness, flew into the bullseye. The 9.8 feet tall monster mumbled so loudly that the echo of its scream spread for miles around. Ronnie saw the tracer trail two yards away from the target abruptly change its trajectory and hit the ground and bounced into the sky.

"There it is."

"Would you mind explaining?"

"The magic aura of the wind element, invisible to the eye, is circling around the boss. As soon as he senses an approaching attack, it automatically activates. And when he is in a state of calm, it disappears. In this way, he saves mana."

While Ronnie was thinking about what to do next, the henchmen did not waste time. They were getting closer and had already overcome the steep slope and were crawling on all fours towards the burning baobab. The sniper's gaze hovered over them, then to the boss, and in his head the thought: there are not enough bullets for all. The broken leg throbbed with pain, which passed through all the nerve endings, and with such force that there was no desire to move once again. Ronnie pulled a small syringe out of his right pocket with his left hand, stuck the needle into his thigh, pressed the plunger. An alert was displayed in the HUD:

The system has been temporarily recovered.

He looked through the scope and saw how the boss overcame three hundred yards with one enormous leap, and when its clumsy carcass plopped down on the ground, the henchmen, along with Ronnie, flew up a couple of millimeters from the vibration. After the second jump, the 9.8 feet tall creature landed at the foot of the mountain, causing a strong rockfall with a shock wave. On the third jump, he was about four hundred meters away. The boss mumbled, and spheres rose from under its feet.

It blinded Ronnie. He turned his head away—his hands did not waver—and fired, but the wind repelled the exact attack. Several rays released from the monster's hands and mouth burned the area, leaving burning trenches a meter and a half wide and deep, in addition, they also cut down the thick trunk of the baobab, which began to fall right on Ronnie's head with a crash. He managed to jump back and when the tree collapsed, put the bipods on its bark.

Before he could take aim, the ground shook under his feet. In front of his face was the fat carcass of the wild boss, who muttered something and smiled, looking at the opponent from high and swung for the last attack. Ronnie jumped back and pulled the trigger in flight. A shot rang out. The magical blade cut the Barrett in half. The light spheres scattered. Darkness fell.

Ronnie was lying there, motionless. All the systems were out of order. He felt small, not yet cooled stones under his back and a strong burning pain from his shoulder to his pelvis. His eyes stared at the clear black sky and the stars sparkling in it, which were layered with gray smoke. He waited for them to finish him, but nothing happened.

"Why haven't they killed me yet?"

"Possibly, the fourth jump of the boss monster caused a strong rockfall, which killed most of its minions. Only those who were on the approach were lucky enough to survive."

Ronnie got up, overcoming the pain, and saw how the footmen not only did not run away, they turned to face each other. A battle ensued. He could not believe his eyes and took out the binoculars. The first to whom his gaze fell killed his fellow men with unquenchable malice, with an uncontrollable thirst for murder, until another killed it. It, in turn, jumped on the lifeless body of its copy and began to devour its insides, until the tip of the magic arrow of the third sent it to eternal rest.

What the hell?

After twenty minutes of bloody stabbing, there was only one survivor. Ronnie thought he saw tears in its red eyes, but it was too dark to tell for sure. The henchman stood for a few minutes, examining what had happened, then turned to the rock and ran towards the sniper, jumping over the mutilated bodies of the dead. Ronnie, unarmed and weak, looked around. The flame from the foliage of the baobab moved to the trunk. He ran up to the tree and kicked it and threw it down the slope. The maddened henchman, knowing that it would not have time to dodge, stopped and transformed its blades on its hands into a magic bow and fired several shots up. Ronnie hid behind the huge carcass of the wild boss. The baobab, like a tank caterpillar, ran over the poor guy, leaving crimson scraps of entrails and a puddle of blood.

Ronnie stood up, enjoying the victorious lull and looking into the distance at the horizon. Nevertheless, just as he exhaled in relief, the magic arrows next to him exploded. The shock wave threw off the sniper's puny body and launched a new collapse. The fat carcass of the boss rolled head over heels down the slope and landed on a pile of boulders with a dull crunch of bones.

Ronnie landed on a hard stone surface and exhaled sharply. His mouth filled with blood. He spat, cursed, and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. Then he tried to get up and rested his trembling hands on the ground. A jerk. He did not have enough strength. Ronnie fell paralyzed from dehydration and wounds. "Fuck!" he shouted through his teeth. He lay surrounded by the noise of the desert. Sand and dust carried by the wind crashed into his face. A small monster that looked like a gecko climbed to the top of his bent knee, waved its head, and ran away. The Matafaires flew in the sky and descended to the battlefield, starting to eat. One bird sat down next to Ronnie and looked at him like a little wind-up toy. It approached him, taking two steps forward and one jump back, turning its head. When it pecked Ronnie in the palm, he grabbed it by the head and threw it into the nearest stone.

It was time for a second attempt. He overcame himself and got down on one knee. The body somehow responded to the brain’s orders. Everything was burning red in the interface. He did not have time to minimize the alerts and warnings. Ronnie wanted to stop and take a break and find his backpack with a meditation tent, but the experience of killing the boss had not come yet. Then he went to the cliff and saw the mangled carcass of the enemy. Its round mouth made the sounds of a whimpering ass beaten three times over, almost to death, and its trembling, half-bent hands drove scavengers away from the wounds.

Ronnie stood over it like an Angel of the LORD with a flaming sword in his hand and pulled a grenade out of his belt bag, pinched the safety lever with his thumb. For a second, he thought in front of him was not just a digital model, but he threw his thoughts away and pulled out the pin and threw the grenade down. There was an explosion.

"Sorry, nothing personal," he said, dusting off his hands. "I just need experience."

Your level has increased to 23.

Current stats:

Strength 5,6 (+ 0) - first modification.

Agility 17.1 (+0) third modification.

Reaction 3,3 (+0) - no modification.

Magic 0 (+0) - no modification.

Current level experience 2%

Your current place in the ratings is five.

Congratulations!

The happiness was short-lived. His body was paralyzed, his legs gave way, he fell face down. Blood was oozing out of his chest through the cut. He turned his head and saw his backpack on his left, about three yards away. Dusty and battered. Apparently thrown off after the explosion caused by a suicide bomber. There was a rare resuscitation syringe in the side pocket. Ronnie crawled in its direction and cursed himself three times for leaving it there and not in his pocket. The countdown for disconnecting from the system had started in the interface.

Don't you fucking dare.

10…9…8…

He couldn't crawl faster, but he didn't want to give up either. It was not in his style. As soon as his hand touched the zipper, there were three seconds left. He pulled out the syringe, two seconds. At the last second, the system was temporarily restored, and urgent meditation was required.

Ronnie let out a sigh of relief and laughed. He felt as if all the troubles of the world had escaped from his head and flown far into the abyss of the boundless space. Maybe on that little star? The celebration did not last long. After thirty seconds, the smile fell off. The heart seemed to be bound by heavy and sharp chains of sadness. It hurts more every time. He pulled out a self-folding tent from the central compartment, put up a protective field and disconnected for three hours with the deep meditation parameter enabled, during which it was impossible to enter the game.