Yes, we knew that it was risky and illegal. We understood perfectly that we’d be booted out of university and fly home with a whistle, if it was discovered that we were the ones hosting these for-profit online gaming tournaments. And especially if they found the gambling software. Nevertheless, we took the risk. Why? Hard to say. At the beginning, it was easy to understand. My roommates and I organized the very first tournaments from our dorm and purely for money. After all, we were borderline-poor university students. But then, after we'd earned some cash and no longer needed to risk it, we simply couldn’t stop ourselves. By then, money no longer played the biggest role. Adrenaline, the thrill of the game, respect among our classmates and popularity with girls were plenty of motivation on their own.

We understood perfectly that, as the scale of the tournaments grew, more and more people would find out what we were up to. That would make it harder and harder to keep it a secret from our teachers, the police and our university’s security. All the tricks we used to maintain the anonymity of the participants and organizers of the tournaments could only work until serious information-security professionals looked into the matter. We were keenly aware of that. More and more, my friends and I would hint that it was time to close up shop or say that the next online tournament would be the last. But that was always followed by yet another one, then another and another...

This time, our grand PvP tournament had attracted students from every dorm in Moscow. It had begun midday on Saturday and was still underway now, at five o’clock in the morning on Monday. Out of eight hundred players initially, just thirty-two had made it through the qualifying matches. And I was among them. Yes, unlike my roommates, who handled the servers, encryption software and bookkeeping, I actually participated in the online battles quite often. And, a decent chunk of the time, I even won, taking fairly sizable monetary prizes.

And I never used any “immortality mods,” cheat codes or other unfair methods. All I needed to win was my powerful computer with a top-of-the-line graphics card and good processors, fast ping, familiarity with the game maps and weapons and, most importantly, nimble fingers. I always used different pseudonyms in the game and was sure none of the usual players had guessed that many recent tournaments had been won by just one lone man.

And now, I was playing. With the virtual reality helmet on my head, and my fingers on the buttons of the ergonomic glove controller, I was totally immersed. To me, he world outside the game just didn't exist...

***

I was running up a steep spiral staircase to the third and highest floor of a luxurious palace. I stopped to catch my breath. Endurance practically at zero, my thick column legs were shaking, and my sides were puffing out like smith's bellows. I rasped heavily and opened my mouth like a fish out of water. There was just not enough air. How hard it was to be a giant!

My choice to play an Ogre Fighter had come to me spontaneously just a minute before the start of the final match. The randomly selected map was a medieval castle with huge gloomy rooms, narrow passageways and steep staircases. That would be very disadvantageous for the Drow Archer I'd used to get through all the earlier stages so, at the very last moment, I decided to change it up.

I had never played such a large character before, and the inconvenience of this heavy body came as an unpleasant surprise. My six-hundred-fifty-pound Ogre was unable to run or clamber up drainpipes, and even a mere steep stairway was a serious obstacle, eating up all my endurance. Also, there was nearly a second of delay between inputting a command and the character reacting, which was particularly hard to get used to.

That inertia nearly cost me my life in a recent scuffle with a crafty Human Assassin, who had easily dodged the blows of my huge two-handed pole-ax. I had to take an unusual tact – I wound up to swing my weapon but, instead of striking, I splayed my arms and jumped forward. That knocked the crouching man off his feet and I luckily managed to press my nimble opponent to the floor with my girth. With the assassin deprived of his main advantage, mobility, I finished him off easily, just twisting his neck with my bare hands. That assassin was my fourth frag in the final, so I had just thirty-seven percent life remaining. Too little to win. A critical situation.

While my endurance dawdled back up, I opened the leaderboard. After nearly an hour of gameplay, just four of thirty-two players remained: my Ogre, a Human Spearman, an Elf Archer and another unknown character. Since no players had managed to spot them yet, their race and class were listed as a question mark. And meanwhile, this unknown person had managed to kill three. Pretty cool. Must have been some kind of invisible stealth character, attacking people from behind while cloaked.

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An alarm rang out, informing us that the tournament would be over in five minutes. I needed to hurry. I opened the map. Apparently, there was a long straight corridor behind the closed door in front of me. If I were playing the elf archer, I would be keeping watch for my opponents there, shooting them down from afar. A very convenient place for her. I needed to keep that in mind.

Throwing open the doors flagrantly and loudly, I made a decisive step forward, then took a sharp jump back. And right then, a long arrow with red fletching slammed into the doorframe at the level of my head! I was not wrong. The Elf Archer had hidden exactly where I supposed. Not wasting a second, I ran forward, giving a terrifying savage roar. A loud shout could sometimes cause enemies to freeze in confusion and fear, which was a real help. All the more so when it came from a huge man-eating giant.

Even the greenest amateur understands that one arrow to the chest will not stop such a massive death machine. Where might the feeble archer aim, on a huge beastly Ogre? Obviously, for the head, which would do increased damage. So, just as the elf loosed her bowstring, I blocked my face with the broad blade of my pole-ax.

Clink! I got lucky – the arrow ricocheted aside and my weapon gave a shudder. Dumb move! She should have shot at my legs and slowed me down. Then she could get a couple more shots off. But the pointy-eared Elf was acting too predictably. After that failure, she lost courage. But she stayed standing, loosed another arrow, then tried to run away. But it was too late! I hacked diagonally down and from the right, and the pretty long-eared girl's head rolled along the stones, lopped off by my heavy pole-ax. A fifth frag! And without losing any health!

I stopped and opened the map again. There wasn't much time left. Where could I find two more enemies? At that moment, as if answering my question, just twenty steps in front of me, behind yet another door, a distinct yelp sounded out. Another enemy down. I wonder who died this time? I opened the player table. The name of the Human Spearman went dim, then the number opposite my last remaining rival flipped to a four, meaning he had gotten another frag. And again, the victim didn't manage to see his killer. Skillful bastard, what could I say...?

In the upper right corner of the screen, the timer was ticking away, telling me there were just two minutes until the end of the match. If several players survived to the end, a rematch would trigger, and the eight best cyber-athletes of the final would meet again on the same map. Oh, please not that. I could barely think already after the many-hour gaming marathon. What was more, I had an important test in third period today, which I wanted to study for then, ideally, get a little sleep. Well, forward! Nothing ventured, nothing gained!

Throwing the door open, I immediately stumbled back, repeating the trick I used on the Archer. But no one attacked me. Strange. Somewhat calmer, I looked around. The gloomy little room was strewn with furniture. It had two exits, one to the left and one to the right, but they both led to the same semi-circular ivy-covered balcony. There was also a circular hatch in the ceiling and a rope ladder hanging down. Perhaps, the mysterious stealth character was up there. But most likely, my opponent was somewhere here in the small darkened room, hiding in invisibility and waiting for me to slip up. Now, my mission was to somehow discover him without exposing my vulnerable back. Many game classes could get a critical hit by stabbing a rival in the back, and that meant elevated damage.

I cut the ropes of the ladder, then made a crisscross in the air with my pole-ax and led the blade along the floor a few times abruptly. Nothing. Either my enemy was skilled enough to dodge silently (which was hard to believe), or he just wasn't here. But then, where was he? Waiting up above? Hardly. After all, he probably also wanted to end this here and now, not play a rematch. Could he really be waiting for me on an open well-lit sunny balcony? Come on, that was nonsense. Why would a stealth character give himself away and come out of the shadows?

I looked around again. There was simply nowhere to hide in this small room. Shelves, a little table, an open cabinet with crooked doors. Cutting through space with my weapon again, I convinced myself that my opponent was not here. Another alarm screeched out. Just one minute left in the final. So then, I needed to make up my mind. Go out onto the balcony through the right door, or the left? My rival must have been waiting for me behind one of these doors. He was probably watching my agonizing from invisibility right now. Luck of the draw. Would I manage to come face-to-face with my opponent and kill him, using my giant's advantage in strength, or would I make the wrong choice, get stabbed in the back and lose?

With a heavy sigh, I made my decision and... with all my might, spending all my endurance, I slashed the cabinet with my pole-ax!

My heavy weapon cut into something soft. Bingo! Instead of boards and splinters, blood spattered, and a cloven body fell to the floor. A Shapeshifter. This class would wait for prey and attack an unsuspecting victim from behind, usually killing in one blow. They were used very rarely in online tournaments because they moved slowly, had to get right next to their victims, and would be absolutely helpless if the first blow didn’t kill. Unexpected choice, but I had to admit that it had very nearly brought him victory.

“Hell yeah! Did you see that?!” I shouted in elation to my roommates, removing my virtual-reality helmet.

And froze...

My dorm room was full of people wearing the dappled gray uniforms of the Moscow Police Department. My friends were pinned to the floor, their wrists cuffed behind their backs.

“Yes, we saw,” chuckled a mustached man holding a snub-nose machine gun. He looked to be in charge here. “How ‘bout you make like your friends and get on the floor, spread your legs and put your hands behind your back. Don’t make me repeat myself, champ.”