Chapter 12
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I didn't think a defeat could be so infuriating. No, it's not going to work that way, I'm too uptight. I need to relax. I put the headset on, pressed it tighter, and turned up the volume of the game music. It was as if I was in the mood for the blues to accompany the animation of the game menu.
How did the Runner manage to make such a shot?
Just an accident?
As much as I'd like to think so, that's not entirely true. No doubt he noticed the grenade launcher shots. That is, he had a rough idea of my location. Because I wasn't firing from the window, he couldn't figure out exactly where my character was. Kronos! If I had stayed where I was and not changed positions after I fired, I would not have lost. I have to hand it to Deckart, he studied this map... There is only one way out of the attic of the farmhouse. So he didn't just shoot into the house, Rick was aiming for the stairwell area. He calculated my retreat. Yes, undoubtedly, it was a lucky shot; he had no more than a one-in-five chance of hitting it. Still, I was the one who gave him that chance.
Stop.
No.
Don't belittle yourself; I didn't give him anything. This hit is a sign of the Runner's skill, the combination of his playing skills, his knowledge of the map, and his tactical thinking.
He is good! He is really good.
What was the chance of luck in my gun-shooting adventure in that Diamond fight? It was a little higher than this shot. Rick Deckart managed to measure me with my own measure, in full.
Such an opponent!
Such a player.
The anger and rage are gone. They are replaced by an acute desire to play on the same team as him. I wish I had a teammate like that when my high school team fought at sectionals...
Uh!
Lex Alipov is right, Runner is potentially one of the best players in the world.
But how did he achieve such results in such a short time?
The answer seems to be simple. The Goons are very negative toward "civilians," those who have not passed the Arch. I don't think this could happen in a collective in which people have been on the Pilgrimage once and, having received the Face, have stopped there. It is more likely that they are frequent visitors to the Temple.
After Rick had hit me blindly like that, I had a thought that his Face was one of the seers. Not Face of Cassandra, of course - he's still a guy, but in ancient times she wasn't the only one with the gift of divination; there were others with a similar talent.
Now, realizing that the shot, though not entirely for luck, was still due to a logical prerequisite, I gave up the idea. And I don't think visionary talents work in our world. Because, if I remember the lessons of theology correctly, after the Ascension of the Three-Face, all other deities, including Moira and the like, who wove the threads of destiny, were overthrown. And man received the divine Gift of Freedom of Choice. In our time, unlike in ancient times, man's destiny is not determined, no one weaves the tapestry of predestination. We are the masters of our lives, our actions, and our choices. And the essence of oracles, seers, and other soothsayers was their ability to see the threads of fate, divine predestination, which does not exist today. And if he had had such a gift in a "working" state, so to speak, he would not have needed to learn to play at all. And for the five hundred games he'd played, Rick would then have been a sure and unquestionable top-ranked player in the world.
Nevertheless, the Face of Deckart is clearly not that simple. Runner stands out too much.
Many have passed the Arch, according to unofficial statistics, one in five men and about three percent of women have been on the Pilgrimage. Yes, the vast majority ninety-nine point nine percent have been to the divine cross-section of existence only once. And yet the lion's share of people are blessed with the faces of simple heroes, of whom there have been many in the history of the world. In me, there is a growing conviction that Deckart is not one of them. If one were to take my bet, I would wager a hundred against the franc that the Face of the Runner is no less legendary!
The Face of the Runner...
The Face of the Runner to boot...
Oh, ThreeFaced!
I know!
Is that so?!
Am I really capable of playing on an equal footing against such a person?!
I'm cool! I'm really awesome!
Even if I lose right now, it means almost nothing. It doesn't mean anything at all. Because I've never been through the Arch, and I can fight someone who is blessed by the Legendary Face on equal footing. Yes, he's untrained, he doesn't know much about the game, and yet his Face outweighs all these nuances.
What is my potential?! Where is my true limit? Is it there, beyond the threshold of the Temple? This thought simultaneously frightens me to shiver and makes my heart beat much faster...
This time, the Abandoned Depot.
This message brings me back from daydreaming to mundane reality.
There's no shame in losing to such an opponent, but losing is not in my plans. I will win, and I will do it fast and nicely.
If I'm lucky, of course.
Fifty-fifty.
And that's a very good chance, especially when you consider who I'm up against. And that chance includes beating the Runner with his own weapon, which would be the cherry on the cake, unless, of course, my luck ran out.
After setting up the map and doing the usual manipulation of adding spectators, I chose the Stormtrooper class for this battle.
Yes, that's right, a stormtrooper with a Jetpack and a Tyra! Let the cat have his tears! Let him feel what it's like to be beaten by his own class and defeated by a shot from his favorite weapon.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
The Depot is the oldest map in the game. It has long been removed from the ranked arenas. This is not only because it, like Autumn Woods, is small in size. The main reason is that it does not account for the game's current realities. Over the years, Battle Arena of Avalon has not stood still, classes have been refined, the physics model has changed, and numerous patches have made numerous changes. For example, the balance of the map does not take into account the player's ability to take the jetpack at all.
Fight!
00:00
So... I got thrown to the south side, that'll save about three seconds.
The depot can be divided into three zones. Half of the map is occupied by a huge parking lot, where many broken-down buses, trolleybuses, shuttle buses, and other rusty vehicles are parked. The rest of the space is divided roughly equally between the bus terminal building in the center and the long hangar of the technical area that stretches along the entire western edge. The entrance to this building is the first reference point.
00:07
I run into the hangar. Of course, it would be faster to move here on the jetpack, but it has a cooldown time, and after applying the jetpack it cannot be used for some time.
The technical area is a through building with high ceilings. It's littered with broken machinery, machine tools, fallen cabinets, and other junk. A good place for tactical firefights, but bad for you if you decide to run from one edge of the map to the other using this hangar. There are too many obstacles that prevent you from moving quickly. More precisely, fast movement on the ground.
00:08
Activation of the Jetpack.
Three meters above the floor, I turn on maximum acceleration. Even against the bots, this is a gamble, one of their five scripts will undoubtedly send to cover this direction. And since you have to fly like a rocket here, and your trajectory is very predictable because of various obstacles, even a computer dummy will shoot you down in such a flight without much difficulty. If Rick has also chosen this hangar as his original destination, then I'll lose. And if not, he won't see or hear me, the hangar walls reliably hiding the whispering roar of the jetpack.
Everything will be determined now...
00:13
The Jetpack goes off after it has reached its limit.
The game's not over, I didn't get shot, Deckart went the other way. Which means I've almost won. Only total bad luck, combined with the most ridiculous accidents, could stop me now.
00:16
I'm already in enemy base territory. Run, run fast! So... Along the wall. Then I jump over the remains of the fence. Run! Upstairs? No, not yet, it's not safe yet... Go! Another fence. Then through the broken trolleybus right into the breach in its side. I jump out through the broken window. Final run... Jump on the barrel. Another jump and I'm on top of a double-decker bus, with a great view of the enemy half of the map.
00:25
Where are you?
00:27
Aha...
Gotcha!
Rick, apparently to completely avenge me, chose the Engineer this time, and is now hastily mining the parking lot. I must say, not a bad choice of class for this map. But only if you play in the team. Because one on one Engineer is completely defenseless against the trick that I pulled.
The Tyra is an excellent rifle. The best accuracy among assault weapons. I had my enemy in the palm of my hand: just seventy meters away, squatting with his back to me.
Breath-in.
The sight stops.
Click on the flat clicker.
00:29
You won!
"Yeah!" I jump out of my chair, throwing off my headset.
There is complete silence for a second, only the sound of a flat clicker crackling under Deckart's palm. Then everyone in the makeshift auditorium exhales at the same time.
"Wow... Like a baby..." Meck's whisper in this silence is perfectly audible.
"Ha-ha-ha!!!" Ten Daas starts laughing at the top of his lungs. "Who bet on Rick? Stand along the wall, put your asses out!"
What?!
All but one of the bikers line up, and my boss starts giving them kicks. If I were to lose now, would Daas receive the kicks? I saw an image clearly before my eyes: my room is covered in dust, the monitor is covered with cobwebs, and all this because the owner has not returned today and will never come back, and his body is lying, piled with garbage somewhere in one of the abandoned warehouses of the old port area... He would definitely break my neck, if... Well, do not think about the bad... It didn't happen... I'm making a big deal out of this... Ten Daas isn't capable of this, I'm exaggerating...
"That was..." Rick comes up to me and holds out his hand. "Instructive...."
"It wouldn't be a shame to lose to you," I shake the palm of my recent opponent.
"I can see now that I'm not as good a player as I thought I was," Runner brushed off my compliment.
"And yet, I never thought I would face a blessed by Legend in a game and still win such a fight!"
I think I said the wrong thing... The ruckus, the noisy taunts of the bikers at each other somehow subside at once. Kronos! Why did I say that? A man's Face is one of his innermost secrets, which is not revealed to outsiders.
While I realize what I said and look for a way to turn my gaffe into a joke, I find myself in a peculiar ring of bikers. Who pulled my tongue, what got into me, why did I feel compelled to show off so much? Oh, such a fool!...
"Folks..." Ten Daas rubs a couple of goons off with his shoulder and stands next to me. "I told you before, the kid works for me, so it's all right. And it's Rick's own fault, I warned him," the boss turns to Deckart and asks, "Told you not to treat people like idiots?"
"It was," Rick nods back.
"That's it. We're close it," the biker I don't know, the one who hadn't placed a bet stood on my other side. He's a big man, taller than Dass, broader in the shoulders, about thirty, with regular, even aristocratic features and a sharp, eagle-eyed nose. Something about him strikes me as remotely similar to the boss, some peculiar aura of power that emanates from him. "If Ten says he's one of his own, he must be. Or does someone here not trust him?"
"No..."
"Why so sudden..."
"If Ten vouches for him"
Thank ThreeFaced, the conflict seems to have been over before it started.
"How did you guess that?" Anton asks me.
It looks like we'll have to answer, since everyone, including Rick, seems to be waiting for an answer.
"Very fast game progression, phenomenal reactions, excellent intuition. All of this could have been explained by something other than Face. But once I realized that there was no mistake about Rick's nickname, that it was spelled correctly, everything fell into place."
"I told you you'd be caught," Daas grinned toward Deckart.
"Don't wiggle, since you're so smart, tell me what's the Face of the Runner?" Anton frowned. "I can talk all kinds of nonsense too, but you tell me straight. I do not believe that you can, like this, the first time you see a person to determine their Face."
"I bet he'll guess." my boss immediately responds to that rant. "On... Your bike?"
"Ten, don't make a fool out of me, you could have told him."
"You want to insult me." After these words, Daas's eyes began to look like narrow loopholes.
"Uh..." The biker who had just come at me took a step back, involuntarily recoiling from my boss. "You've got it wrong."
"Shall we bet, then?" Ten Daas's face immediately lights up with a serene smile. "On the bike..."
"No... It's not worth it," Anton retorts.
I don't like this situation at all. There is an excessive amount of tension in the air. In addition to the Boss and Anton's altercation, there are silent and expectant glances directed at me.
Looking at Deckart, I tilt my head slightly in a mute question mark, he nods in response, and I whisper with my lips alone.
"Aeneas"
"Damn it..." Runner slaps his thigh with his palm. "Ten, you were right, as usual," Rick sighed heavily and turned back to his computer. "I'm going to go delete the account."
"That's right!" Daas snapped his fingers. "I don't know about that," the boss says, looking around at the rest of the Goons. "But you've got your head in the right place. But, no, you had to make a joke of it. To quote you, "Who's gonna know?" So?!"
"I got it, I got it, don't blow my brains out," Deckart sighs heavily, and sits back in his chair.
"Wait," I interjected. "You don't have to delete the account, you can rename the character for a small fee."
"It's possible," the giant with the aristocratic profile turned to me. "But he's already been all over the place on this show. They can find him by statistics and other secondary traits," and turning to Rick, he raises his voice. "Delete it, delete it, you'll shoot yourself a new one."
"Yeah. yeah..." says Deckart. "But a little later!"
Rick rose from his chair and clapped his hands, drawing attention.
"I heard there's an opinion that I lost like a kid to some civilian..." Now, this guy seems a lot older than his years. "Meck, Anton, you're kind of making noise, aren't you?"
"What's there to talk about?!" Meck comes forward. "Everybody's seen it for themselves."
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