“OKAY, I’LL PUT it in a different way. How did you kill them?”

“There was this little boy... he suffocated. It just happened! Then there was a girl... she just died too... bled to death...”

The sound of a gunshot almost deafens me. A bullet to the shoulder throws the corrupt government official onto his back. My ears ringing, I can barely hear Vicky cuss under her breath as she flings the gun aside,

“Bastard, bastard, bastard! How I hate them!”

“Holy crap, Vick, what have you just done!”

Gleb Grechkin, a prominent figure in the Town Hall’s Cultural Department, is squirming on the floor, apparently not in a hurry to croak. His wound isn’t life-threatening and his Vitality is still in the green as a Bleed debuff ticks away, stripping the pedophile of his Health.

“He’s a scumbag, don’t you understand? He doesn’t deserve to live!”

“Uuugh,” he groans, “You’re gonna pay for that! I’m gonna wipe you out... Ooooh...”

“Enough! Wake up!” I shake Vicky by the shoulders, trying to bring her back to her senses. “Let’s go!”

“Where do you want us to go? We need to finish him off first!”

I'm a bit worried about her attitude but I can see the Fury and Righteous Indignation buffs hovering in the tag above her head. I grab her by the hand and drag her toward the door. I also pick up the gun, just to be on the safe side.

I open the trunk of Grechkin’s SUV and look for a hose and an empty can. While Vicky inspects the other cars, I syphon off the gas.

“Here, I’ve found another one,” Vicky hands me an empty can.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

It takes us some time to fill both, then I take them and go back into Grechkin’s house.

Grechkin’s cowering behind the couch. A bloody trail lies in his wake. As I enter, he shudders and starts muttering.

I cuss as I remember something. I reach into my pocket for the handkerchief I’d taken off the corrupt Colonel “Dimedrol”[1], Grechkin’s best friend. I pour some vodka over it and wipe the gun clean. Vicky leaves to do the same with the fingerprints in Wheezie and Zak’s car: the two junkies who, on Dimedrol’s orders, have kidnapped me and Vicky in a dark alley, stuffed us in the trunk and brought us here.

“What are you doing here?” Grechkin asks clearly, enunciating every word. “I can’t feel my legs. What’s wrong with me?”

I peer at the profile of this non-entity which has already been sentenced to death by the mysterious program in my head. Social status level: -1. This has resulted in a dramatic drop in all of his characteristics. His debuffs aren’t exactly energy-promoting, either: his Metabolism is deep in the red, his Mobility virtually non-existent. Once he’d confessed to all his crimes, the game system declassified him, changing his social status to negative and issuing me a system quest to eliminate the pedophile.

Which is exactly what I’m going to do now.

I can hear someone moaning nearby but it’s not Grechkin. Wheezie raises his bloodied head, his foot twitching. He’s still alive but I don’t feel like killing him yet. He can stay alive... for the time being.

I glance at the clock hanging above the door. It’s well past three in the morning. Trying to stay away from the burning fireplace, I pour the gas over the bodies, the furniture and the pool table, then use the second can to douse the verandah, the hall and the wooden staircase leading to the second floor. The remainder I use to make a hot trail to the house.

I return to the lounge holding the gun in the handkerchief and lay it into Zak’s hands.

“Please don’t leave me...” Grechkin pleads. “A million dollars... in cash... please...”

I leave the empty cans in the house. Snatching a lighter from the couch’s armrest, I survey the scene of our nightmare.

Then I walk outside. Vicky stands next to me and lays her head on my shoulder.

Even if hell doesn’t exist, we’re going to make a personal one for him: here on planet Earth, in this particular local segment of our Galaxy.

Let it all burn to hell!

Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse a silhouette appear from around the corner.

The last thing I hear are the claps of several gunshots. As I pass out, Vicky’s scream echoes through my mind.

[1] Dimedrol: a sedating antihistamine drug popular with Russian criminals