CHAPTER ONE: BLAMESTORMING
I woke up, oddly enough, being vigorous and well-rested.
Although I did not notice any changes, but if you looked at the
message in front my eyes, you could be sure that everything
went fine.
Attention! You have successfully enhanced your “Mind”.
That’s a very confusing word “successful.” It makes me think
that there are also cases when you could use the word with the
prefix “un”. Mentally getting rid of the message in front of my
eyes, I looked around and found only Quartz in the corner,
where there was a table with various tools hanging on the wall,
above him in special grips. On the right and left the table was
clamped between two pairs of machines tools. I didn’t know
what their function was, but I knew for sure that one of those
was for equipping ammunition, and the other was used by
Quartz to make various details for him, and I didn’t even know
why he needed two more.
As soon as the building was completed on the order of Mr.
Carefire, we immediately moved in with the whole group here.
Well, why did we have to wait more? The room was specially
designed for ten fighters and included everything you need:
weapon racks, bunk beds and a bunch of different gadgets. I
myself chose the lower bed in a row of bunk beds. Tilorn took
over the place above me; Sargos and Quartz were to the left,
both on lower places.
Quartz was all eager to take a bed on the right, near to Castra,
but Tilorn quickly taught the young man how to behave with
his fists. Castra chose the lower bed on the far right side and
fenced it off with a movable screen, just like in a medical unit.
If other players looked at us, they would laugh at us forever.
After all, they simply throw characters in their beds, even
without removing the ammunition, which is a big mistake,

since the virtual body gets dirty and requires hygiene
procedures as well.
We noticed a long time ago that even though piconites remove
dirt, like waste, it is all recycled into energy for them (well,
according to the information Tilorn received), but for a fullfledged emotional rest, as well as physical, it is necessary to
have hygiene procedures, just like in reality. Tilorn connects
this with the fact that such habitual actions relax the
subconscious mind, providing an opportunity to relax well.
As a result, Castra fenced herself off with the screen, saying
that she needed to be able to get changed and sleep normally,
and so that at the same time any anxious perverts would not
stare at her, as she was saying this, she was looking at Quartz.
Then Tilorn and I quietly crawled along the wall, trying to
hide our laughter.
Having woken up and calling Quartz, I asked everyone to
gather in our room. It was worth having a discussion after the
first full dungeon was passed by our group. There were a lot of
problems out there, but I wanted them to sort all these issues
out by themselves because a professional fighter should not
only fight well and fulfill commands, but also think
independently. Having done some quick warm-up exercises
and beating a little the punching bag, which was hanging in
the room, I went to the shower room so that the muscles
relaxed after the small strain. When I returned to the room,
everyone was already there and waiting for me.
“Volper, what happened? Why did you call up everyone?”
Tilorn immediately said on seeing me.
“Nothing new! But we need to understand our past errors.”
“What do you mean?”
“So, let’s deal with everything in order of importance,” I
began, crouching on the edge of a small metal table, taking a
position opposite the others. “I have been teaching you good
teamwork, a wider use of your current skills for almost a week,
and yesterday we passed, so to speak, an intermediate exam.

Now I want you to brainstorm a little and out the problems
that were encountered in Martha’s lair, and then suggest some
ways how to eliminate them.”
“Um … why?” You are training us well.
“And then, Quartz, you need to work independently using your
brain. For example, that situation can happen to me, and I
would be unconscious, or go to the respawn. What will you do,
how will you get out of situations? So let me tell you one by
one the problems that you encountered, and suggest options to
fix them. And I will correct you if something is wrong. With
you, Quartz, as with the most talkative member, I shall begin.”
“Um … Aah … Hmm … Well, how to say, the main problems
that have been encountered: I noticed three. They are as
follows: slow movement of the group in the dungeon, and due
to this you had to start a breakthrough, aggravating all the
mobs at yourself. Also, when the group was divided, Castra
and Sargos were left without the tank, which led to Castra
being wounded. Well, when you were knocked out, we lost the
main firepower, which is why we were on the verge of being
destroyed. We were saved only by the fact that Martha
managed to activate itself before they could destroy us. It
seems to me that’s it.”
“Well, a lot of problems have arisen, but let’s analyze these
points for now. So, slow group movement. In your opinion,
what are the reasons for this?”
“Yes, we are just not used to it …” Tilorn spoke up, expressing
his opinion.
“Tilorn, shut up, please, for now!” I cut him off. “Now the
situation is analyzed by Quartz. First of all, he needs this
himself, so that in the future he could correctly assess the
situation and make the best decisions. So, Quartz, I’m waiting
for your answer!”

Quartz wanted to say something, but looking at Tilorn, he
abruptly changed his mind. He put his hands on his knees and

twisting his fingers together, he rested his chin on the hands,
obviously pondering over something. I waited patiently for
him to gather his thoughts, stopping others to interfere. The
main thing now was that he was trying to comprehend the
situation and find the cause of the problem.
Even if he doesn’t find the right reason now, it comes with
experience - the main thing is to instill the habit of analyzing
each situation in order to find a cause-result relationship and
be able to eliminate such situations in the future.
“Most likely, all the troubles were because of uncool damage
per second index of our team…” immediately Tilorn and
Castra slapped this poor guy, which interrupted him. “Damn,
do not confuse me!” He rubbed the back of his head, being
really offended. This is already beginning to become a
tradition: in each serious dialogue, slapping Quartz on the side
of his head. “So, what am I talking about? Most likely, the
problem is low damage percentage, which the group shows at
the same time. With Tilorn everything is clear - he has a
shield, buffs and medical aid, Castra is engaged in
reconnaissance, she needs to be as mobile as possible. Of the
remaining three members, only the commander shows good
damage, I am at close range for a bit, and Sargos stayed in the
rear.”
“Well done!” I praised him. “How can you solve these
problems? Give me your ideas.”

He thought for about five minutes, but in the end he just lifted
his hands in dismay. I had to pass the question to the others,
hoping that at least someone would figure out how to solve
this problem. A few minutes later Castra started talking.
“Maybe we should give them automatic machine guns and let
them practice a little. They will gain at least a dozen percent

of the skill and will be able to give out at least some damage,”
she suggested timidly, obviously having her doubts.
“Not an option. First, these are non-core skills, so it will be
harder to pump them up. Secondly, the system will not give
skills for them; only basic shooting skill will be awarded. Or,
it’s a very long time to practice, repeating the same action
over and over again, hoping that the system will give you the
skill to use.” I defeated Castra utterly. “Come on! Use your
brains, there is a decision on the profile skills, you need only a
little imagination!”

Unfortunately, no matter how hard they tried to think, there
were no more worthy ideas. I had to manually guide the course
of their thoughts.
“Quartz, remind me what your professional skills are?”
“Well, if it is only professional, then the repair of various
drones and droids, as well as their maintenance.”
“That’s it! So you can be what?” I continued to push him to
think.
“Um, I can be a caterer, but I am completely defenseless in
managing them.”
“And why?”
“You ask me why? It’s just because I am distracted by their
movement. And if it comes to the drones, it is also necessary to
control the height. There are a lot of parameters that need to
be monitored at the same time.”
“And if you don’t need to control them?”
“Yes, how can you do that?” He became indignant. “They also
need to move somehow, am I going to carry them myself?
Maybe I will put it on my shoulders? …” at that very moment
he froze, not even finishing his sentence. He was silent with

his mouth open. But just a few seconds, slamming his mouth,
he continued. “But this can work!”

Jumping from his bed, he rushed to his workplace. We could
see that he wanted to implement his idea as soon as possible.
“Stop it!” I shouted at him. “Where are you going? We haven’t
finished yet. So take your place, and let’s discuss the situation
further.”

Quartz, stopping abruptly, twisted his head, looking at me and
his desk with the tools. Then, having sighed heavily and with
his head down, he came back and, sitting down on the bed,
continued to cast a glimpse at his table. Oh, how much this
idea had hooked him up. But never mind, he would still have
time to implement all his ideas.
“Quartz, first finish with the analysis of the situation, then you
will go on to your tools.”
“OK!” After a couple of seconds, he agreed, and stopped
looking at his desk.
“I ask everybody now. How can Sargos be given an
opportunity to increase the damage index? Or do I again have
to come up with ideas for you? Think logically! Or do you
think a good man, that is me, will do everything for you in
life?”

I got up from the corner of the table and, putting my hands
behind my back, clasping them into a lock at the waist level,
began to walk from side to side in front of the others from the

group, raised my eyebrows and pretending that I was
psychologically pressing them, looked at them menacingly. In
fact, my leg just got numb from an uncomfortable posture,
which is suitable for a short conversation of a few minutes, but
not for a long brainstorming session. But I am not going to
confess to the others about it? So, I paced a small strip of the
room in front of the group, frowning from one to the other,
making them feel uncomfortable.
And there was not a single moment even to relax, in the future
they might have to make serious decisions in critical
situations, and there would not be a right to make a mistake or
any time to think things over carefully. In the end, I was
surprised by Sargos, who does not like to talk much, but this
time he decided not to remain silent. And with short chopped
phrases, making stops for a few seconds, gave a huge, by his
standards, monologue.
“Here’s the main thing. Mines. Explosives. Pick up a weapon
first. Shoot around. Use mines. Do the undermining. Remotely.
Contact battle. Timer. Experiment. With ammunition. There are
many options” looking at Quartz and adding something.
“Together with Quartz. Automatic mines. Mini droids. Filled
with explosives. Castra hangs a lot of mines. I’m undermining.
Tilorn puts up barrage out of mines. Machine gun is shooting.
I understood. There are many options. I’ll think it over!”

We were frozen for a few minutes, looking with round eyes at
Sargos, not believing what we witnessed. Castra even reached
out for Quartz and raised her jawbone with her hand. Sargos
didn’t know where to hide from such an embarrassing
moment, in the end he even asked:
“I am here. Do I not have the right to talk?”
“My friend, believe me, we tell that we should not wait for
Armageddon. And then, given your being talkative, I have

already begun to suspect the end of the world was coming,”
Quartz said, without taking his eyes off Sargos.
“Everyone started laughing.” I decided to intervene, as Sargos
was already red from too much attention. “Our young
explosives engineer said everything correctly, there are lots of
options: starting from replacing bullets with miniature mines
in revolving cartridges, ending with homing droids filled with
explosives,” after which I added for Sargos. “Just don’t get
carried away by explosions alone; a damaging element can be
of various acids and poisons, the composition of which Tilorn
can prepare for you - smoke curtains, both toxic and with a
stimulant effect for us. During exploration, Castra can install
a lot of mines with your remote blasting, and if you install
beacons in them, then when the group passes by them, you can
collect them back. In general, I think it will work!”

Sargos in response only raised his thumb, expressing his full
agreement with what was said. It can be seen; today his ability
to speak has been exhausted. Okay, who else wants to speak
up
“Castra, now your ideas!”
“As Quartz said, while we are divided, we have one part of the
group left without protection. Plus, I couldn’t cause damage
most of the time: either I couldn’t get to the enemy, or I was in
an uncomfortable position from which I couldn’t reach anyone.
Immediately I will propose a solution to the issue – we should
upgrade the gloves so that damage can be applied not only
with the palm of my hand, we should find new shoes, so that
damage can be inflicted by feet because I can wave them
normally, but the blow with my bare foot is often not enough.
Well, you can still buy something for my acceleration, at least
a second jerk to quickly get to the enemy. After all, most of the
skills and abilities I have are sharpened for close combat and
high mobility,” just like a machine gun shoots fast, Castra said
everything quickly.

“Well done, my dear!” I already raised my index finger to the
ceiling. “No wonder they say that girls think quickly. The main
thing is, well, and with all the force, to force their thoughts in
the right direction.”

Castra began to shine for the first few seconds of being
praised, but then she realized that in order to do it, you first
have to kick a lot and, puffing her lips, began to look around,
probably looking for something heavy to throw at me.
“Volper, and what can you tell me?” Tilorn’s voice was heard
immediately.
“Damn, man. Honestly, I do not even know!” I grimaced, as if
being washed by citric acid, which fell on my tongue. “I can
only advise you to think in the direction of some kind of mobile
defensive-medical center. In a nutshell, here’s an idea: we can
follow you, if necessary, hide and heal ourselves. If there were
a fantasy here, you could be a great paladin, a mini tank with
exciting functions and a strengthening aura of yours would
cover us up. But in a technogenic reality, I simply cannot
imagine how you could develop. In the future, I hope, we will
think of something.”
“Hmm … Paladin, you say?” Tilorn moved his jaw, as if
trying to taste the word. “Why not? It will be necessary to
clarify a few points. But I had a couple of ideas,” after seeing
my arched eyebrow, almost in the form of a question mark, he
added. “I first check a couple of points, and then tell you.
OK?”
“Okay. You are right,” I admit. Anyway, I had no options for
its development. “So, gentlemen, these are good ideas. Oh,
sorry, we have ladies here as well,” I added this phrase
immediately, seeing the frowning Castra, “in your opinion, are
these the only problems that we faced?”
“Well … sort of, yes.” Tilorn voiced his thoughts after a brief
glance.

“Then, I’ll make you sad. To begin with, we strongly offended
at least one clan, guess which one?”
“The Wolves,” Quartz tried to suppose.
“Why “at least”?” Castra was again much smarter, reading
between the lines.
“Because we do not know about the second group. Maybe they
also belonged to the Wolves, maybe it was their allies or, on
the contrary, their rivals.”
“And what should we do?” In the voice of Castra panic could
be felt.
“Nothing special,” I reassured them. “Do everything the same
as before, just be more careful. Look around if someone is
watching you, nobody, by chance, would stare at you too often
or for a long time. If possible, if you hear a conversation about
events related to this incident, try to listen, you do not need to
ask, just listen to what they are saying, without particularly
showing your interest in this topic. It is still unknown whether
they know who broke off everything like that, so for the time
being you shouldn’t worry much, but don’t forget about it. Is it
understandable?”
“Yes,” Tilorn said.
“Then you have two days to think over your ideas. Then we’ll
go to another place where they have been waiting for me for a
long time. There are also mechanical mobs expected. Sargos,
get ready with more explosives, there are a lot of armored
barricades that may have to be blown up. The thickness is
about seventy-five millimeters, but what kind of material it is”
it is not known. Having waited for Sargos to nod as a sign that
he received the information, I continued. “Also, I ask you to
take into account that there are automatic defensive turrets,
traps and a lot of other nasty things. Therefore, the
preparation must be very careful! Okay, let’s get ready and I
will go and try to solve some puzzles.”
“What are you going to do?” Her eternal feminine curiosity
could not be hidden by Castra.

“At first, I will try to solve the puzzle of overcoming these
barricades without explosives, and then I will try to solve the
ongoing problem with one old bastard whose insanity simply
knows no boundaries.”

Then I left the room, leaving them alone, taking with me only
a couple of pistols and my backpack. When I first came to the
laboratory, I put the access card that I found into my breast
pocket under the vest, hoping to keep it in this way. And when,
during a detailed search, I found the second card, I casually
threw it into the backpack. But reality turned everything
upside down: from the first card there was not even a scrap
left, but the second one was still in the backpack, safe and
sound. Now using it, I went to the engineers. As soon as
Leksha saw me, he immediately got peeved.
“Volper, I told you to come in two weeks, but you came earlier.
At least one or two more days you need to wait, and do not ask
me to finish earlier; I won’t do that too quickly! I don’t have
time to sleep; I am assembling your babe for you. I do not
know how long you will train the control module to use all that
you have invested in it, but I think it’s worth it. So, even though
I am assembling it, I cannot move do it any faster.”
“Leksha, calm down. I came for another issue.”
“Okay, then say what you want quickly why you came to me,
but I still need to finish your previous order.”
“There is an access card,” having shown the object, I handed
it to Leksha. “The problem is that the door, which it should
open, also requires a password to access it. Can you see if you
can do anything about it?”
“Hmm …” he gave a wise thought, scratching his chin with
one hand and twisting the access card in another. “This is not
my area of work, I am mainly in engineering and electronics,
and I have workers in the same areas. Yes, and it feels as if it’s

illegal …” Leksha thought for a moment. The back of my
head is itching. “Okay, considering that you have a good
account with Mr. Carefire, I will help you, I have a cybernetic
programmer friend who I know well and I can ask him to see
what can be done.” But it will take a day or two.”
“Please do! I have two days left. If you can do something,
send me a description and prices by mail. Then I will think
whether it is worth it or not.”
“OK, but if everything goes according to plan, then you give
me ten percent of your deal.”
“Agreed, it is a good price.”
“Volper!” He called me when I was going to the exit. “You
see, if there is something illegal here, then it is better to
immediately forget about it!”
“Do not worry; it is in the neutral part of the fifth level.”
“Well, if so, then, it’s ok, but I warned you.”
“I understand!”

We didn’t sign any contract; anyway, it didn’t make any sense.
Now, if his person undertakes to do something, then we will be
signing an agreement via the server. I wanted to talk to
Carefire again, but he was not there, and the clerk in the hall
replied that he had left for somewhere, and when he would
return, he did not know. I had to go to the ladder leading into
the basement, where the training ground was located, without
having talked to the commandant. Near the armored door,
blocking the passage to the stairs down, one of the officers
was sitting on a chair that can be folded.
“Hi, what are you doing here?” I was surprised to see him.
Usually they are on duty in the control room.

“Well, this old chap is completely nuts; he blocked the door to
the control room. So I have to either be in the locker room, or
here. After all, no one has canceled my duty.”
“And where is he?”
“In the training hall, looping around the three-hour marathon
with breaks per hour and destroys everything that moves. And
he does not understand at all where training bots are, and
where his people are. He destroys anyone who pops out of the
safe zone.”
“Hmm … Okay, I’ll go try to talk to him.”
“You won’t succeed at all,” he shook his head, “Our
lieutenant went there, and only twelve hours later did he
appear in the barracks.”
“I’ll try, anyway!”
“Well, you can try if you are brave enough.”

Downstairs, I first went to the locker room and left all my
things there. If the conversation fails, then at least I can pick
my things up. Coming out of the locker room and making sure
that the door to the control room was really locked, I went to
another door leading directly to the training grounds. I stood
beside it for a few minutes, doubting whether to even enter at
all.
But anyway, it’s time to deal with this question; either I will
talk to Sanych and figure out what happened to him, or, having
revived in twelve hours, I will simply forget him for good. In
any of the options, I’ll finally put an end to this mess. At least
for myself… I took a deep breath and exhaled several times,
putting my thoughts in order, and with a sharp movement I
opened that door.

CHAPTER TWO: IT’S NOT THAT SIMPLE
Entering the testing ground, I got into the zone of “Local
Armageddon.” Constantly emerging anthropomorphic robots
with different weapons tried to destroy a single target, which
was constantly in motion, moving incredibly fast. But they did
not succeed; the average life expectancy of each robot was
from three to five seconds. Sanych simply did not give them a
chance to survive, traveling at high speeds throughout the
entire space of the testing grounds.
Behind his back there were three pairs of energy wings, at the
base of which were movable metal elements attached to the
back, which, seemingly, formed the shell of the wings. He
used the lower pair as moving shields, taking on them those
shots that he did not have time to dodge. The middle pair, as
far as I understood, had a set of shunting nozzles at the base,
and the wings themselves served as stabilizers.
The upper pair seemed to be responsible for gravity, allowing
Sanych to soar ten centimeters above the ground, and when the
enemy was getting too close, he also used them as a weapon,
chopping the enemy with a light stroke of the wing. Being
fully armed, he had now two short-barreled submachine guns
with a large rectangular block instead of the forearm, and the
frame butt when folded completely retracted into special
grooves on the sides of the receiver, allowing him to use
weapons in the manner of a pistol with automatic fire mode.
Shooting speed was also impressive. Roughly judging, it was
clearly above a thousand rounds per minute. And the moment
that the lines periodically changed color - it could be assumed
that there were several types of ammunition, and they were not
all firearms, but of a different energy profile.
On one of the maneuvers, when Sanych was with his back
facing me for almost a second, I managed to notice the
“Seraphim Punishment” fixed between the moving elements of
the wings. You see, Sanych is a Scurfifer himself, I supposed
so because he had such a kit! So, why the hell did he kick me
out back then? I already wanted to take a step out of a half-

meter safe zone near the door and tell him everything I thought
about him, but at the last moment I stopped myself from this
foolish idea.
Yes, in this area I cannot be seen and cannot be heard - a
special one-sided barrier protects guests from accidental
injuries at the site. But if I leave the zone, at least I can talk to
Sanych, but, most likely, only for a few seconds. If he doesn’t
shoot me, simply just like he shoots robots, then in a couple of
seconds, these robots will chop me up into small pieces, taking
me as an additional goal.
I had to sit down on this patch and just watch Sanych, waiting
until he finished the training cycle. Picking up my right leg
and sitting on the side, I began to watch this old man destroy a
huge number of opponents, without stopping for a second. Ten
minutes later I still could not take my eyes off him.
He seemed to be dancing to some kind of music that was heard
only by him, changing the position of his body in up to one
millimeter adjusted poses with each movement, moving away
from the multitude of bullets that were constantly aimed at
him. Trying to start recording this training, in order to calmly
analyze his movements, I regretfully looked at the leaping
inscription.
Attention! The recording function is not available at this
training ground!
“Fucking shit!” I grunted to myself.

I had to hope only that my memory would not fail me,
carefully watching every movement of Sanych’s training. So
he crouched, throwing his left leg to the side and spreading his
arms to the sides, cutting off opponents in bursts on the sides,
the next moment he made a quarter of a circle with his left
foot, transferred all his body weight to it, almost took a long
step, remaining at the same level above the ground . After that,

he straightened up sharply and, making a complete rotation
around his axis, spread the upper pair of wings, and
practically, by inertia, he initiated the energy wave, which
scattered, and in some places even chopped the enemy.
All these three movements were completed by him in just a
second. My brain could watch and analyze him for a couple of
minutes, and then, to my shame, I got confused by his
movements - so quickly he moved from one position to
another, without ever repeating. Although forty minutes later,
during which I could not take my eyes off this deadly beauty, I
began to notice single, repetitive movements, the ligaments
were already different, but here certain transitions and poses
clearly began to repeat sometimes. It seems that he still does
not dance, but uses some kind of movement system for
fighting in critical conditions. Our military equipment is just
childish pranks compared to this.
I had to watch a constant battle for almost an hour when I
noticed repetitions and patterns. And this is with my important
experience in short skirmishes, which drag on for a maximum
of five minutes. Well, even in heavy half-hour battles, I doubt
that anyone will notice the system in motion. As a result,
almost an hour and a half later, the opponents ended, and all
his equipment was showered with nanites on the floor. Sanych
just walked away to the wall and sat down beside it, leaning
his back, and then his eyes closed. Well, it’s time for me to
move closer. Coming out of the safe zone, I calmly walked
towards the old man. To be honest, it was scary to approach
him, my knees were trembling.
Now he has nothing of the long-range weapons, but being
close he can deal with me very quickly. But busting myself, I
approached him and sat down side by side. I did not doubt that
he knows that I am near. After all, even when I had just left the
safe zone, his eyelids fluttered, showing that he had noticed
me. We sat in silence for about five minutes. Sanych rested,
and I looked at the ceiling. No matter how crazy this may
sound, our silence was extremely eloquent and fully reflected
our attitude towards the latest events.

“So, you will not ask questions?” Sanych started the
conversation first.
“What for?” I shrugged my shoulders. “The last time, as you
may remember, I did not even have time to ask a question,
when I got bumped my head into the wall by you. By the way, I
still do not understand why. So it’s better to just shut up for
me, maybe I will be able to get on well with one hard-nosed
old whimper, who began to have seizures of dementia.”
“Aren’t you afraid that I’ll just send you to the replication
capsule?”
“You know, after what I’ve seen for the past hour and a half,
I’m sure that if you wanted, you would have sent me to the
graveyard long ago.”
“Look, you have become really clever, my lad!”
“Well, I raised my mind percentage a bit!” I even raised my
index finger, focusing on this attention.
“Wow, you are growing up, and how much is he now with
you?”
“Already two units!” I proudly puffed out my chest.

I nevertheless achieved what I wanted - Sanych twisted on the
floor laughing. As psychologists said, when we were taught:
“A person who laughs, in most cases, will not kill you.” It’s
true, only if it is not a psychopath. After a good laugh and
again taking up a sitting position, he again turned to me,
wiping away the tears that had come out of laughter.
“Now I really believe that you have nothing to do with it!”
“Um … nothing to do with what?”
“You see,” he hesitated, choosing words, “there’s such a thing
… When you took out that rifle, I thought that the security men
had sent you for me. That flared up a little.”

“So, you are, in your old age, already a looney?”
“No, no, no! I’m still far from being nuts! And what would you
think having the facts that I am one of several sensible people
who have information about Scurfifer? And then you showed
up with this rifle. And this happened after you spoke with
Stepanenko. And this asshole is already forty years trying to
get information from me about Scurfifer.”
“I do not understand what Internal Security has to do with this
profession?”
“Oh, my lad, believe me, you do not need this all!”
“Wait, why is it not necessary for me to know?” I already got
up a bit, turning to Sanych. “I’ve been living here for a long
time without a profession, I’m doing here insane things, I’ve
got a lot of problems because of them, I almost completely
quarreled with you, and now you just say that I don’t need it?”
I was completely shocked by the words of Sanych.
“Well, because you can get out five from this rifle, well, a
maximum of seven percent of its capabilities! How much
damage is there now? Around one hundred or two?! You
should understand, ” Seraphim Punishment” being used
appropriately can simultaneously give out about five thousand
points of damage! With such damage, not only the Sweepers,
but even the Silver Guard, in lucky circumstances, can be
destroyed with one shot. And you will be content with these
several hundred.”
“Um … why?”
“Everything is just simple,” Sanych sighed, and, sitting more
comfortably, began telling me. “Scurfifer is one of the
professions that does not give a bonus to the speed of
development of skills or unique skills that are loaded onto
piconites from the server database. All the power of this
profession lies in two moments; actually, the equipment of one
of three classes and the status of being a neutral player. There
are also disadvantages of this profession, because without
having the “soul” of any of the three classes, all the rest of the
equipment cannot work even at ten percent of its capacities.
And the last “soul” in my eyes was destroyed six hundred

years ago. It is no use telling you the rest of the story. So you
can take your rifle, go up with it to the tenth level and sell it to
a collector for a big amount at auction there, it’s not good for
anything else, though. And it’s no use taking a profession only
because of this,” he sadly finished, planning, it seems, to put
an end to the discussion of this issue.

But I had completely different plans, now the main thing is to
select the right questions. If everything is really as I
understood it, then I will have something to surprise this old
man with. I used to be a little clingy to calling him an old man,
considering that he himself is quite old. But in the view of the
fact that Sanych is more than six hundred years old, I only
have to call him grandfather or maybe a great-grandfather?
No, probably, even great-great … Damn it, but how many
times “great”? Okay, I’ll get back to this issue later, now it is
the time for something else.
“Sanych, please answer only two questions, and then I will
leave you alone.”
“Okay, ask your questions and we will change the topic, and
never come back to it, if you do not want to have an argument
again.”
“Have you ever been a Scurfifer yourself? I’m asking you
because I saw you training. Your kit was very similar.”
“No,” he answered with regret, “I once developed a method of
training for them, and the kit which you saw can fit anybody.”
This is just a training option, candidates for the profession
were trained with the help of these” then he was silent,
thinking about something, and continued in about three
seconds. “I did not even dare to pass the exam, but now I
regret it. Yeah, even if now there was such an opportunity, the
contract with the Server would restrain me. Okay, bro, let’s
move on to the second question.”

“Well, let me clarify one thing. You mentioned a “soul” – do
you call overalls by this name? And then other elements of
armor and weapons can be connected to it, right?”
“Yes, you are right. This is a jumpsuit, which is the basis of the
whole set. Due to its direct connection with the piconites in
your body, it can combine and power up individual elements of
the kit, allowing…”

And then he froze for a moment. And when I turned back to
him, I was able to see how his eyes enlarged as if he had
undergone plastic surgery. And then I looked into his eyes and
in the depths of these eyes, something just struck me. There
was a terrible cocktail of emotions, mixed up with mistrust,
joy, hope, and for some reason, fear that I felt somehow
uncomfortable. Having quickly risen, he briskly headed for the
exit from the training grounds and, moving a couple of meters
away from me, turning around, he asked with surprise in his
voice:
“What are we waiting for? Follow me! And be silent, until I
allow you to speak.”

The old man gained such a speed that I could barely keep up
with him by walking quickly; sometimes I even had to start
running in order to keep up with him. When we skipped the
dressing room at cruising speed, I managed to stop Sanych for
a while.
“Sanych, I have some of my clothes in the locker room, and I
should put them on to look decent.”
“Um … Hmm …” after examining me and himself, he decided
that I was right. “I’ll give you three minutes!”

He turned around and headed back, probably to the control
room. I went into the locker room and quickly changed my
clothes, jumped into the corridor, having done everything
within half of the time given to me. If you think logically,
Sanych realized that I have this suit, so we are most likely
heading to a protected place for private conversation, and this
leads to a number of unpleasant thoughts, considering his life
experience and, accordingly, knowledge of the local, so to say
“rules and customs.”
I doubt that he would have been done so without any good
reason. Sanych came out of the blue and interrupted my
thinking. Rushing past me, he just waved his hand, showing
that I should follow him. The officer, who was sitting at the
entrance, seeing us, almost fell off his chair, but at the last
second managed to retain his balance and, jumping up, stared
at us with exhausted eyes. Sanych immediately yelled at him,
saying a lot of abusive words:
“My dear fucking creature, what are you doing here?
Relaxing? Who do you think will be on duty in the control
room? The suckers do what they please… You know that in an
hour and a half, according to the schedule, the planned classes
for the third group of the second company start, so what the
hell are you doing here? Go quickly to the post, and in fifteen
minutes the training ground should be ready, according to the
schedule!”
“OK, I’ll get ready with the training grounds! Can I do it
now?” A smiling officer belted out.
“Be quick!” Sanych replied.

The officer seemed really excited. It seems that the he is not
only afraid of the old man, but also quite looks up to him; I
would even say that he admires him. He screamed, he yelled at

the officer with the rank of lieutenant, but the officer only
smiled, feeling joy that the old man had come out of his
depression. Sanych, meanwhile, headed for the stairs to the
second floor, muttering to himself:
“In general, the damned idler was relaxing, I had better talk
to Alex, and then he would fire some of his fighters…”

Now I do not understand him. Does it give him pleasure to
mumble constantly? After all, he can communicate normally, I
am convinced of this, but at the same time he stubbornly plays
the role of the old grumpy man. Having reached the office of
Mr. Carefire, the old man opened the door with his electronic
key and waved at me to enter. Hmmm … The further, the more
interesting… If Sanych has the key to the commandant’s
office, the question is: does he trust him so much or isn’t Mr.
Carefire the boss at this outpost?
Going behind me, Sanych locked the door with a key and
immediately went to the weapon rack. Having pushed it aside,
he typed some combination of numbers on the display, after
which the entire room was covered from the inside by a
reddish energy barrier. Returning to the table, he sat down at
the place of the commandant, with a gesture of inviting me to
sit down in front of him and, clasping his fingers into the lock,
placed them on the surface of the table in front and finally
started:
“Remember once and for all: all that we are going to talk
about here with you is only for your information, and beyond
this room you should keep it quiet. Believe me; this is only for
your own safety.”
“Wait, it seems rather strange. First, I do not understand the
reasons for the buzz around this profession and, with the
things. Secondly, how can my security be threatened if I, as a

member of the fifth-level restoration project, have an unlimited
number of replications.”
“Let’s start with the fact that replications can be deprived of.
And even if you don’t bother, they can just give you a very long
painful “marathon”, while supporting your life.”
“I agree; I am being stupid. But all the same, what do
Scurfifer and this stuff have to do with it?”
“Here the question is in the main feature of the equipment of
Scurfifer, which is both their power, but at the same time their
problem. The thing is that their equipment works on psionics,
while psionics cannot become Scurfifer.”
“But how are they …” and then it dawned upon me. “Wait, do
you want to say that the batteries, for example, of the
Seraphim’s punishment contain psionic energy?”
“Exactly! The whole kit requires energy. Of course, if desired,
it is possible to use usual power sources, but most of the
abilities of armor and weapons require enormous energy
consumption, and even a very specific type that only psionic
energy can provide. In this case, there are a small number of
psionic abilities, which each set of things has, but it is still
very dependent on the user.”
“It turns out that at one time we were able to develop a set of
equipment for a fighter, combining psionic and technical
capabilities. In theory, the efficiency of such a soldier should
be just fantastic, but then I cannot understand why they
destroyed this ammunition.”
“And here the gamers had good old ambitions as well as
greed. A couple of hundred years passed and everything was
alright. Psionics for a certain amount of energy shared their
energy, fully covering all the needs of the existing Scurfifer.
But gradually everything went downhill: there were
individuals among corporations, and governments, too, who
wanted to use this energy for their personal purposes. At first,
it was also bought from Psionics. Then some not very strong
Psionics began to go missing. It lasted for quite a while,
unnerving the whole society. If you still do not understand, at

that time Psionics also lived on the upper levels. But then, one
day, for some reason, corporations pushed through the law on
the mandatory registration of all mutants and psionics.
Moreover, data on psionic strength and the amount of psionic
energy produced per day were recorded on a mandatory basis,
after which it was found that many mutants are not psionics,
but they still produce some energy. A couple of years after the
start of registration, the cases of missing mutants became
more frequent. By that time, it had already become clear to
most sane people that, most likely, they are being shut down
somewhere and are being forced to constantly share their
psionic energy. Because of this, mutants began to gather into
groups, trying to keep closer to each other, and in fifteen to
twenty years’ time they formed quarters where only mutants
lived. Everything could be over time and would stabilize, only
the law was passed on the obligatory sharing of psionic energy
in certain amounts, which was calculated individually for
everyone. It was after this law, which simply turned them into
a walking power station, a wave of indignation appeared,
which led to mass protests, but then the government, instead of
meeting their demands, led out against the mutants units for
military suppression of the riot. This was the beginning of the
thirty-year war, as a result of which we lost all the lower
levels, down to the third one. In the course of this war,
practically all Scurfifers that were missing from both sides of
the conflict were deliberately eliminated. And the psionic
energy conversion technology was lost during the fights. As a
result, now there are two opposing structures in Alfarome: on
the one hand, psionics and mutated people, on the other there
are ordinary people and cyborgs. Psionics are still caught in
order to rediscover the lost technology. Now you understand
what awaits you, if someone from the knowledgeable people
receives information that you have a working set of
“Seraphim’s Soul” which is connected with psionic energy?”
“I will be fucked up!” I said. “What options do you offer?”
“Now I can see only two options: first, you throw everything in
the utilizer and forget that these things once existed. The

second one is much more difficult - to prepare and pass a test
for the profession. Then, if you collect a complete set, only the
Silver Guard, well, or some of the most powerful Psionics can
deal with you. In this case, you can already at least partially
state your terms.”
“What is the complexity of the second option?” if Sanych
undertook to consider the second option at all, it means
something can still be achieved.
“The difficulty is that now there is no one left who could give
you the profession. So it can only be obtained through the
center of the professions, having passed a certain test of
professional skills and compliance. And the closest centre is
on the tenth level. Not only will you have to prepare for the
test - I can help you with that, - then you need to be able to get
out of that place before you are taken to a special laboratory
to be studied more closely.”
“Damn, I need a couple of days at least to assess the risks.
Okay; I am going on a raid in two days, and when I return,
we’ll talk about this issue. I can’t make a decision right on the
spot. By the way, what’s your interest?”
“To pursue my dreams.”
“What do you mean?”
“It will be difficult to understand. Now you practically do not
understand our political alignments and many of the nuances
of the existing way of life in Alfarome. Therefore, my
explanations will not say anything to you for now; if you want
to - we will return to this conversation when you get the
profession of Scurfifer.”
“If I get it.” I corrected him.
“No, I say when you get it! Because if you do not receive it,
then there will be no sense in this conversation.”
“Clearly, then turn off your jamming system, I will have to
think it over.”

CHAPTER THREE: REFLECTIONS
Saying goodbye to Sanych, I went to the headquarters. There
was, of course, a desire to first go to the store and see what
new things I could buy to upgrade my armor and weapons, but
almost immediately I changed my mind. The first thing I need
is to thoroughly think over everything and to decide if I really
need this profession with such a unique set of things, this I
should do at least for myself. And is it worth to start in view of
the problems that will be caused?
If I were just a gamer, I probably wouldn’t have thought about
it. After all, the more unique they are, the more desirable it is
for them. At the same time, they do not even think whether it
will be useful for them or not. But I’m not a gamer, I’m just a
person who actually is having a rest in here and has fun…
Although, who am I deceiving? Since Tilorn met his group…?
No, even before. It’s probably when I made a promise to Irala.
Or maybe … I stopped in the street, completely immersed in
my thoughts, trying to understand when that crucial moment
happened, after which I began to achieve my goals and
stopped just having fun. In this way and in my mind, I scrolled
the path I had traveled in Alfarome, but from any point of
reasoning it turned out that literally from the first minutes I
was engulfed in the excitement of self-development, trying not
to yield to other players. I behaved in many cases just like a
kid who seized virtual reality and now wants to be the coolest.
It seems that something inside me is pushing myself to find
solutions to develop as quickly as possible, ignoring most of
the points that confuse me so much in this game. So, I have
about one and a half days before the raid to the laboratory
starts. During this time, I’ll need to collect the information of
interest to me and analyze it thoroughly. Although I myself set
the time for the start of our raid and I can calmly change it, but
I decided not to do so, because I made a promise to Irala to
return as soon as I could get her out.
And promises must be kept otherwise why do you give them?
Then, when we return from the laboratory, I will deal with the

questions thoroughly. Having outlined for myself a number of
goals, I went into the building where we were located,
practically at the entrance of which I stopped, lost in my
thoughts.
Already almost getting to the second floor, where we were
staying, I heard a sudden explosion, followed by Castra
crying. I didn’t make out what exactly was in this scream, but
acting by instinct, I jumped the remaining steps and literally in
two jumps I was near the door to our room. Practically,
without slowing down, I smashed our flimsy plastic door,
covering my eyes and part of the face with a second hand from
accidental shards of plastic. As soon as I overcame such an
insignificant obstacle, I immediately went into a long leap
forward, extinguishing the inertia during landing, rolling and
going on my knee almost near the arms rack where the pistols
were kept.
Grasping the handles of the first pistols, I turned around by a
hundred and eighty degrees, changing the knee of the stop, and
I almost heard the hip joint popping from such a mockery of
myself. All this action takes a little more than a second in
time, and I froze, arms outstretched, trying to cover the space
where the enemy could potentially be. I stared with my eyes at
Quartz and Castra, who froze in the same postures they were
in when I burst into the room, and now they were looking at
me with no less staggering eyes. Castra was almost in the
middle of the room, holding a shoe in her right hand, brought
in the backswing for a throw at Quartz, her goal at that time
trying to hide behind a hanging pear.
The room was almost the same as I left it. The only change
that was evident were pieces of the folding screen, which were
burning on the floor. As far as I understood, Castra with her
right hand was trying to launch a missile at Quartz and with
her left at the same time she tried to cover her upper body,
because she was naked. I do not know what happened to them
here, but it seems that I should be leaving the room at the
moment.

“Hmm … It looks like I was not on time …” Standing up, I
headed for the exit, carefully examining the toes of my shoes.
And then I added; “Forgive me for interfering with your premarriage games, but next time be a little quieter, otherwise I
really thought that we were attacked,” on saying that, I left the
room.

Walking along the corridor, I rested my forehead on the wall
and began to giggle. I do not know how Quartz managed to
burn the folding screen, while she was changing her clothes,
but it seems that now it will be very painful for him. My
suspicions were reinforced by the roar of the evil Castra and
the several booming blows that followed. Hmmm … Probably
better, I should quickly get out of here, or the angry girl might
start to take it out on me.
Of course, I am a commander, mentor, and so on, but in my
life I remembered one truth: it’s better not to get in the way of
an angry woman. You suffer yourself, or you will hurt her - it
depends only on how good you are at dealing with conflicts.
Quietly, trying not to make any noise, I moved to the flight of
stairs, from where, almost crashing into me, two fighters
jumped out in full gear. Stopping them at the last moment, I
turned back, checking if everything is in order.
“Are you sure?” The fighter with the sergeant’s stripes did not
give up. “We heard a scream after the explosion. Maybe
someone needs help?”
“I’m sure everyone is okay,” I smiled back. “Tell me, fighter,
are you married?”
“Um … Yes … And what does it have to do with it?”
“Yes, despite the fact that there is now almost a family row!
Imagine what your wife would do if you accidentally burned
her favorite blouse?”

The sergeant paused a little, apparently, imagining such a
situation, and he even shuddered. After which he quickly
retired, not forgetting to take the second fighter with him. I,
remembering to see Sargos and Tilorn, changed my direction
and went to the workshop where these two could usually be
found. When I entered, I immediately got into a sort of cross
between a laboratory, a meat processing plant, and a back
room of a mad alchemist. Nearby there were various
centrifuges, molecular splitters, scraps of organs of various
monsters and the most ordinary distillers.
I’m even a little confused. After all, I came here only once,
when they only brought the equipment. But now I could not
recognize this room, as well as Tilorn himself, who was
running around between the equipment in a bright yellow robe
and the same cap on his head, from which disheveled hair got
out. In the middle, the room was blocked by a thick armored
glass, beyond which the kingdom of Sargos with the
explosives was spread out.
Trying to attract Tilorn’s attention, I did not succeed, or rather,
he noticed me, but waved it off and, saying something
unintelligible, was working on the device, which began to
squeak. He shrugged his shoulders and sent a letter to me in
which he was warning me not to proceed any further until, and
having sent this letter to me, he went to Sargos through a glass
walkway with two doors. At first, I could not understand the
reason of having such a transitional gateway, but when the first
door closed behind me and I was able to open the second,
heavy music deafened me, which simply stunned me.
Not only did this cacophony of sounds hit my ear membranes,
but also I had to move like on a minefield. It feels like Sargos
decided to practice installing minefields right in his workshop.
Looking around and realizing all the futility of his
undertaking, I sent a letter similar to the one sent by Tilorn and
left the workshop. There was only one place where I could sit
quietly and think. Therefore, having reached the stairs, I
climbed a little higher and onto the roof. Having sat between a

small ventilation tube and a side that girded the roof, hiding in
such a way from prying eyes, I started thinking.
I really wanted to get this profession, I really wanted it all, but
that huge mass of problems that this profession brings was
stopping me. After all, in fact, apart from a unique set of
equipment, it will give me nothing more, but there will be a lot
of problems. For example, I can solve the issue with psionic
energy through Krill, although I don’t imagine how to contact
him. But what brings the status of neutral, is not yet clear.
Sanych does not want to disclose information, and the hunt for
me will obviously begin. And my wards were formed … I, of
course, do not care about all these problems, but I don’t want
to let down those people who trusted me. So, I have made up
my mind! Returning after the raid to the laboratory and giving
this ammunition to Sanych, I will let him deal with it. It’s
better to be without any profession at all, since I don’t need
such pain in the ass. Having dealt with one question, I went
mentally to another, namely to the oddities in the game. I
decided to write out all the points first so as not to forget
anything and not get confused. Opening the notebook, I was
about to start writing out the points of various oddities in this
game, but the incoming message icon distracted me.
Sender: Leksha
Text of the letter:
I contacted my person; he is ready to take up your work.
The price is only ten thousand. But he also asked me to tell
you that if you pay him thirty thousand now, he will give
you very important information on your access card. As he
put it: “The information is so interesting, and the longer
the customer waits, the less interesting it becomes.” If you
are going to transfer money, do not forget about my little
share.

Hmm … Wow, he intrigued me, indeed. If I understand
correctly, he has some extremely important information. It
seems that the amount of money is rather small for that, but I
don’t want to lose the information either. Okay, until I check, I
won’t. Sending the letter with my consent and transferring the
money, taking into account the bonus for Leksha, I got up and
began to pace the roof waiting for an answer, which came in
about five minutes.
Sender: Leksha
Text of the letter:
I’m sending you the text from my person:
“An hour and a half ago, one of the clans from our outpost
took from me the exact same access card, already
decrypted and re-flashed, so that it would give access
without asking for the password. But hacking the access to
security systems did not work, there is a complicated
algorithm. Judging by the encryption and some minor
details in the code, there is every reason to assume that
both cards are for the same object. ”
“H******! I’ll kill those m ****** and fuck them in ******
….”

I cursed for about thirty seconds, using all sorts of abusive
words to describe those motherfuckers. I did not expect such a
possibility of being let down, although I should have foreseen
the possibility of such events. Okay, I need to calm down, I
can change everything. Fearing the worst, I am half an hour
late, plus the time for fees. Not so much, there is every chance
to get to them before they clean up everything there. Having
opened the mail, I quickly wrote a message and sent it to the
guys.

Recipients: Tilorn; Castra; Quartz; Sargos
Text of the letter:
ATTENTION!!! GET READY, YOU HAVE ONLY 15
MINUTES. GET ANTI-DROID WEAPONS, PLUS
PLAYER VERSUS PLAYER MODE! PVP
PROBABILITY 90%!!!

While rushing, jumping over two steps, to my floor, I sent
another message, on which the success of my whole
undertaking depended. If he doesn’t answer me until we get to
the laboratory, he will have to choose between one of two
extreme options. I would not like to use them, because neither
of them promises anything good to me. Already bursting into
our room, I sent a letter to the team.
Recipients: Alexander Carefire
Text of the letter:
I really need your help! I do not ask for fighters, because I
understand perfectly well that you will not give them,
especially given the fact that I may have to fight with the
fighters of one of the clans registered in your outpost. But I
need to help the person who I promised that I would not
abandon … At least, tell me how I can avoid getting the
red level in the event of a clash with clan fighters. I will be
ready to fulfill any of your requests.

Rushing into the room, I found Castra and Quartz, who were
urgently gathered ammunition. Considering that they were in
the room at that time, it was easiest for them. From the
remnants of former luxury in the form of loads of various
equipment and weapons, which I got from the lair of the
gangsters, more precisely from what I saved for further

development later, several sets were formed for different
occasions.
Now was one of those occasions. Castra changed her light
overalls to a heavier-weight outfit, but with stronger armor and
a lightweight closed helmet, giving her the opportunity to
switch to a closed life support system. So now, with a great
desire, for fifteen minutes she can even go into outer space.
For a longer time, unfortunately, there will be not enough air.
But I haven’t seen her new shoes, or rather I’ve seen them
before, but they looked a little different then.
Now, however, the thickness of the sole has slightly increased,
and a portion of the sole on the toe has a characteristic bluedcolored metal, as does the triangular insert on the heels. In
addition, she put on bracelets that completely covered her
forearm from the wrist and almost to the elbow. At first
glance, I did not find any changes in her equipment. Quartz,
on the last exit, only changed the shotgun, and for three
seconds he stood and looked from one to the other, torn apart
by the variety of choice: take the same, tested, or new with
two barrels, with protruding corners at an angle, similar to
small round wings.
His doubts were quite clear to me. The shotgun left in the rack
was much lighter and more compact, allowing him to be more
mobile. But the one he took, had more ammunition and higher
rate of fire, but, apparently, Quartz remembered the potential
PVP mode and decided that increased damage is more
important. I noticed all this, glancing at them as I was walking
by to get my things. I took off my everyday clothes, without
being embarrassed by Castra - now it’s not the right time to
think about it - and I hastily began to get changed to a set of
clothes with aramid yarns and polymer seals.
I had not used it before, since on its own it has pretty low
protection level, mainly from penetrating and kinetic damage.
But here’s now, the bottom layer under a set of armor with
hydraulic amplifiers, to which I grew in level after a skirmish
with the droids, suited just the way.

“Volper, what happened? Your message was really worrying,”
Quartz spoke as if saying tongue twisters and at the same time
he was placing a backpack on the floor and now hastily stuffed
it with ammunition and various trifles.
“Tilorn and Sargos will catch up with us, then I will explain,
so that I don’t repeat everything twice. By the way, where are
they now?”
“Sargos is in his workshop; he has an entire military arsenal
there. He started working really hard after you pushed him for
a couple of ideas. And as for Tilorn - I have no idea.”
“Tilorn went to the local technicians, I saw him in the door …
or rather, and I saw the remains of the door,” Castra wedged
in, and she was already fully ready, as she was the most easily
equipped fighter of our squad. She stood with a small
backpack about twenty liters behind her back. Having quickly
examined herself, she added. “I’m ready!”
“Well done! Then, go run to get Sargos and tell him to join us,
he should hurry up; we have not too much time on our
hands!”

She immediately dashed out of the room and sped away. In the
meantime, I had to make a hard choice. The set of armor
weighed pretty much, slightly limiting my mobility. And now
it was worth deciding which weapon to take with me. For a
couple of seconds having estimated the pros and cons, I
decided to take an automatic rifle with a short barrel, and two
pistols with the ability to conduct single and automatic fire
instead of a paired complex. And, of course, I remembered to
take the set of knives.
Sargos came running when I was already putting grenades and
spare shops along special pockets, finishing stuffing my
backpack with already equipped magazine cases. I usually
carry cartridges in packs with me, they take up less space, but
now I’m not sure that I will have time to install the cases.
Turning around and noticing Sargos, my eyebrows reached to

the top of my head. Trying so hard, he was pulling a huge
trunk, swollen in all directions by volume, probably, three
hundred liters of volume. I just wonder how it hasn’t crushed
him yet.
“Sargos, fucking shit! Are you going to take all this trash to
the battlefield?”
“Of course, no,” he started being certain and dead serious, and
dropped the trunk to the floor; then he began to dig in it,
taking out various elements of equipment. “Here you are. I’ve
got various things. But I didn’t manage to modernize them.”
“Okay, come on, you have ten minutes,” he confirmed with a
nod of his head that he heard me.

Three minutes later, Quartz and I completed the set and were
ready to move forward. Sargos, meanwhile, had already put on
his set of armor and fastened many different items to it, not all
of which I could recognize by looking at them. So, being
almost ready, it remains only to understand where Tilorn is. It
would be not so good to start without him. But as they say,
speak of the devil and… Here he is. Tilorn came into the room
already fully equipped and ready for the battle.
“Who should I kill? Who to save?” He blurted out
immediately, turning his head around.
“Calm down, for the time being you do not need to kill
anyone,” I cooled him down. “So, I will explain in brief,
because there is just not enough time for us to think,” making
sure that everyone listened to me attentively, I continued.
“Before meeting you, right before the first wave of the
breakthrough, I got into one very interesting laboratory. The
way I found it is unimportant now, but the point is that in this
laboratory there is an artificial intelligence unit, who may
have full self-awareness and, so to speak, the soul…” Tilorn

wanted to say something, but I interrupted him. “Tilorn, I
know that in reality all such experiments have failed.
Therefore, I say that it is possible. Maybe it’s just a wellwritten non-player character, or just some kind of a bug in the
cluster of the artificial intelligence who manages the server.
But when communicating with it, the full spectrum of
emotional, mimic and psychological reactions inherent in a
living being was noticed by me. Yeah, according to her brief
history, theoretically, it should be no longer artificial
intelligence, but a full-fledged mind. In general, it does not
matter; the question is that I promised to pull it out of this
laboratory ASAP. We were preparing for the raid there, but the
situation had changed. According to the information I have
received, a couple of hours ago, one of the clans received a
pass card to this laboratory, so we are now moving forward at
the maximum speed there. Your task is to provide me with the
breakthrough through monsters right up to the lab. I will go
inside alone, as there is every reason to assume that there we
will have to fight the clan fighters, and I have no desire to let
you down for getting the red level. Everything is clear? Any
Questions?”
“And what about the opportunity to challenge the right of
ownership…?”
“Not in our case,” I interrupted Castra, “firstly, officially
registered organizations have this right, which we do not.
Secondly, I do not intend to give them the opportunity to
capture the laboratory. I need to be the first to reach the
central room, where the information carrier with the artificial
intelligence is located; otherwise there is a chance that I will
not be able to release it.”
“Are you sure that as long as the battle goes on, one or
several fighters will not leave, taking with them the most
valuable trophies?”

The guys became quiet, thinking about something. I was also
silent, giving them the opportunity to gather their thoughts.
They had literally just a dozen seconds, after which Tilorn
took the floor.
“Volper, I do not know what is going on there, but we are
going with you till the end!”
“No,” for greater persuasiveness, I negatively waved my head.
“This is not your problem. Do not forget that if you get the red
level, problems with law enforcement agencies will occur, and,
most likely, you will lose access to the outpost.”
“Volper, you recently made me think about my decisions and
excessive care. Now you yourself do it, contrary to your words.
So we go with you till the end, and this issue is not discussed.
We just inform you about that decision of ours. You once
believed in our group and supported us, now it’s our turn to
repay the same. And do not argue with us!”

Looking at them, I saw in everyone’s eyes only one
determination to go till the end with me. I wanted, of course,
to yell at them, to use abusive words, but…. Yeah, even, if
necessary, to knock on the head so that they do not engage in
this bullshit! But now, seeing their eyes, I understood that
nothing would help, they would just silently follow me.
Therefore, I could only accept their decision.
“OK,” I said it with difficulty. But quickly assembled, I
continued in a normal voice. “Then let’s move forward. Castra
is the head patrol, the rest are in two pairs, the first pair is
Tilorn and I, the first number is Tilorn, the second couple is
Quartz and Sargos, the first number is Quartz. We are moving
as fast as possible. Castra, you are leading us along the route,
I’m sending you the coordinates. Monsters are to be ignored;

we enter into the battle only in case of attack. Ready? Then
let’s get going, time is money!”
Quickly checking whether everything is sitting well and
whether the badly fitted ammunition does not give away where
we are, we moved out of the base trotting. Now we should
come on time. Even if Carefire does not respond to the letter, I
will still pull it out of that place. Otherwise, why would I have
invested fifty million?

CHAPTER FOUR: BREAKING INTO THE LAB
From the moment when our group left the building and up to
the gate, I was looking in all directions. Honestly, squinting a
little did not work. Practically in every person that came into
my field of vision, I saw a clan observer or a spy. I even got to
the point that Tilorn sent me a letter, in which there was the
following: “Calm down.” Only then did I force myself to relax
a little, but at the same time without trying to control
everything around. Being already behind the gate, a hundred
meters, we rearranged ourselves in a battle order.
Castra immediately was ahead twenty meters, laying the route
of our movement, trying to bypass large herds of monsters, if
the alternative route did not delay us too much. The others
were following her. At first, Tilorn and I were on the same
level, but if the width of the road allowed, we kept a distance
of a couple of meters between us. Tilorn constantly kept to my
left, moving under the first number, so I was moving to the
right. Although I was in charge of the whole group, I was
number two. Quartz and Sargos moved in the same order
behind us, a couple of meters away.
They were the third number. Although we had an odd number
of people, I used the old, time-tested numbering among the
reconnaissance battle groups, when moving in line of battle.
They always have a pair numbered separately, and the fighters
inside the pair are also numbered each. This system was used
to reduce confusion when deploying combat. When the first
pair entered the battle, everyone who followed them dispersed
to the right and to the left, increasing the area of combat
contact. In this case, the even pairs always went to the right,
and the odd ones to the left.
But inside the pair numbering was done in the way so that the
partner could notice in time that something happened to you,
because with any maneuvers of the fighters the first number is
always to the left, well, or ahead, if they were rearranged to
move in a chain. And the second one is , respectively, on the
right. And if the first number was suddenly lost from the zone

of your visibility to the left, it immediately became clear that
something had happened to him.
So we were moving by jogging, without stopping, even when
single monsters jumped at us. Considering that with such an
organisation, everyone controlled their own sector of
movement, any petty danger, missed by Castra due to the high
speed of movement, was detected instantly and fought by fire
from all the guns. Fifteen minutes later, in our movement,
something spattered with multi-colored spots on the periphery
of my view, and it was so unusual that I immediately sent the
command into the headset.
“Stop now!”

All my team… well, and the girl, of course, stopped for a
while. Literally in a couple of steps, having slowed down, they
practically turned into frozen statues, only a small monotonous
movement, billowing and falling to the breath, and a running
glance around showed that they were living people, not
products of the sculptor. I was proud that I was able to train
them so well in such a short period of time. In the meantime,
my eyes also ran through all the possible shelters, trying to
understand what caught my attention.
It took me a little more than a second to become aware of the
changes. A scattering of green, red and orange dots appeared
on the mini-map. Judging by the location of the points in
relation to the central one, the green ones are the fighters of
my squad, but the red and orange ones seem to be monsters.
What the difference between these two color markings was not
yet clear. There were three red ones at the moment, but there
are already five orange ones.
“Did everyone have colored marks on the mini-map?” I asked
the question by whispering into the headset. I received four
identical “Yes” answers. “Take a circular and check all the

system messages, looking for the cause of the appearance of
markers.”

Flocking together and forming a small circle, bristling with
weapons in the outside, we quickly began to look into the logs
and system messages. While we were rebuilding, two markers
changed color from red to orange. The remaining red shifted
slightly, approaching us a little. But the three orange ones
almost went out, leaving only small rings of the same color in
their place. Almost immediately, as they began to check the
systems, Castra came out on the radio, and because of the
closed helmet, it was hard for her to communicate without a
headset.
“I have a new passive skill. Quote system: “Attention! …””
“Stop it!” I stopped her, I have enough. “Copy and sent a
letter with the information on the skill. Do not forget that we
can be overheard!”

Having read the received letters, I had to seriously think. The
skill itself is great. I do not know what additional opportunities
this skill will open up at new levels, but even now it is very
good and will greatly facilitate our lives. It remains only to
understand how easy it can be achieved and what conditions
should be there to receive it. As practice has shown, even with
the same performance of the same action, not everyone has the
same skills; some do not open the right one at all. So Sanych
explained once, even when I trained at his training ground and
got my first skills.
For many skills, you need a combination of certain conditions;
these can be characteristics, certain skills that have reached the
desired level of development, or even random coincidences.
Identical skills are obtained only at the initial level of
occupations, so to speak, the basic ones. But those that the

Server assigns for independently performed actions may differ.
According to the Server, there are even several skills that only
a couple of people possess in the whole of Alfarome, such
unique combinations of different conditions occurred to them.
But then I almost ignored all his words, just now I
remembered part of his lectures. Damn, I hope this is a rare
skill; otherwise it will be very difficult to fight with those who
are scouts with this skill. To be sure that I understood
everything correctly, I once again looked through the sent
texts.
Sender: Castra
Text of the letter:
Here is the system message received:
Attention! You devoted a long time to detecting dangers for
your group, performing the functions of a scout. A passive
skill has been opened - “Marking the enemy.” Now the
opponents you find are seen by all members of your group
on their maps.
Sender: Castra
Text of the letter:
The description of the skill:
“Marking the enemy”
Description: Anyone you discover will be marked with
colored markers on your map and on the maps of all
members of your group.
Activation Time: Passive
Duration: Ongoing
Rollback: 1 second
Restrictions: Only those who are in your area of visibility
are marked.

My thoughts just now run away from assumptions, which may
be affected by an increase in the level of this skill. There is no
time limit anywhere, so there will be no decrease in these
points, like in most skills. Probably, some new facets of the
skill will be revealed. Okay, let’s wait and see; now is not the
time to be distracted. Glancing at the map, I noticed that now
there are two red markers and only one orange ring.
“Castra, how many monsters can you see?”
“Two.”
“Got it. Get out! Discussion of the skills is only at the base.”

On giving the command, I sent the Castra’s letter to the others.
It turns out that the red marker shows those monsters that fall
into the zone of visibility of Castra, and the orange colour
depicts the place where the last time she saw a monster. After
a while, a ring of the same color remains from it, and then
disappears altogether. It will be necessary at the first
opportunity to make measurements of the time after which the
orange markers change. Further speed of our movement
increased. Thanks to the markers that appeared on the map, it
became much easier to correct the route of our movement.
And the loners, which were missed, but noticed by Castra,
were immediately tracked, and as soon as they started moving
in our direction, we immediately met them fully armed. The
problem occurred only when we walked two thirds of our way.
Moving around the remains of the third tier of the suspended
road, we relaxed a bit, because the serious monsters usually do
not climb so high. For this reason, the weaker monsters that
are eaten most often try to move to the very bottom. This,
probably, has played a cruel joke with us.
With one of the holes in this analogue of the viaduct, a
multitude of brown segmented tentacles popped up,
resembling birch leaves glued together with a ribbon. Only

each such piece of paper was thirty centimeters wide, and only
a couple centimeters thick. At the edges of each tentacle there
were small claws directed in different directions and bent just
like hooks. Castra was the first to react, leaping up in a high
jump and leaving behind her a wave of rippling clouds of dust
raised from the asphalt, literally a moment before several
tentacles struck that place.
I jumped backwards, gave a short line through the tentacles by
the machine gun, but the bullets ricocheted without even
knocking them off the path of movement. From the meeting
with these tentacles, Tilorn’s energy shield saved me, with
which he literally closed me at the last moment. Quartz and
Sargos, meanwhile, quickly bounced off to a distance where
these tentacles could not reach and tried to damage them from
their weapons, but nothing could be done. Castra landed a
little behind me and Tilorn and rushed forward to the nearest
tentacle, spinning around with it, striking a multitude of blows
with the open palm, accompanying each blow with pulses.
Tilorn and I had to stop on the spot. I could not continue to
retreat without covering his shield, but he had to remain in
place, reflecting the tentacles attacking, so that they would not
get far from Castra, leaving her the opportunity to quickly hide
under the protection of the shield. Until a couple of seconds
appeared, he quickly felt with his eyes a sign with the name of
a monster.
A-shaten, 37 level

The name of this mob was hanging right above the hole in the
pavement, clearly indicating that the monster’s main body was
hiding there. It was good, now at least we know where to put
the main damage. Deploying the logs and quickly looking
through them, gritted his teeth.

You have inflicted 0 penetration damage to A-shaten
creature.
You dealt 0 Kinetic Damage to A-shaten creature.
You missed on A-shaten
You have done 0 penetration damage on the A-shaten
creature.
You dealt 0 Kinetic Damage to A-shaten creature.
You have done 0 penetration damage to A-shaten creature.
You have done 0 kinetic damage to A-shaten creature …

Okay, holy crap with the tentacles, and how do you feel about
the fire? Quickly changing the store to the one in which there
were plasma-core cartridges, leaning out from behind the
shelter, I shot a couple of rounds into the nearest tentacle, but
this did not have any effect either. Having tried almost all
types of ammunition and convinced of their being uselessness,
I began to randomly search for a way out of the situation.
Tilorn, meanwhile, resembled a medieval knight, who fought
against the monster’s tentacles with his shield, while he was
trying to take them on a shield on a tangent, simply knocking
down the trajectory of motion.
I could understand that he was saving up energy. In some
cases, when it was necessary to repel several tentacles
simultaneously from different sides, he used a hammer,
beating them with a counter blow. Castra danced a few meters
to our right, constantly dodging attacks, bending from time to
time at such an angle as if she was flexible, while constantly
striking either with her palm or the sole of her shoe, in which,
as it turned out, impulse nozzles were now embedded. That
explained how she jumped so high. In one of the moments
when she was uncomfortable to strike a blow with her open
hand, she twisted and struck with the back side, where the
contact pair of wipers was on her knuckles.

And then the miracle happened. The line of A-shaten’s life
flashed for a while, forming a barely discernible, less than a
millimeter wide, strip of emptiness on the bar of its life. Well
now there is a chance to destroy it. The main thing is not to go
back and around, losing about half an hour to go around this
obstacle. Realizing how we should struggle, I immediately
began to send commands.
“It is vulnerable to electricity!”
“Got it, let’s work hard!” Quartz replied, as soon as the
shooting stopped. I didn’t even have to turn around to
understand that they were now together with Sargos, creating
something special.
“Castra, go back! Fatigue is half,” I called her off after, with
a glance at the icons of the members of the group, and I
noticed her accumulated fatigue. “Tilorn, you need to attract
its attention and hold out for a couple of minutes.”
“Got it!” He said with excitement. “There is something to
surprise this creature with. I was lucky to get my order from
techies just in time!”

Repelling another attack of the tentacles, Tilorn turned off his
shield and, clutching at the handle of his hammer with both
hands, turned several elements along the axis. Apparently, he
activated one of the capabilities of his weapon. Small spikes
emerged over the entire surface of the hammer, between the
tips of which small flashes of tiny discharges began to appear.
Having made a couple of strokes with this hammer, adding
inertia to the movement, he began to destroy the tentacles.
The amplitude of the blows was so big that I had to jump away
to avoid being hit by my friend. This strong fighter was
holding out practically at the very edge of his handle, plus the
length of the arms. Getting out of the zone of destruction of
the tentacles and joining the others, I quickly checked my
ammunition and, unfortunately, found out that I only had

electromagnetic ammunition with energy damage. Opening up
the information, detailed the energy damage, which was
indicated by the average value.
Threaded cartridge “7.86x44 EM”
Kinetic damage: 45-52
Damage penetrating: 27-38
Energy damage: 5-10
Electro: 2-6
Magnetic: 8-13
Condition: 100%
Cartridge weight: 2.9 g

The electric damage is too small. I hope it is vulnerable not
only to this damage, but to all kinds of damage caused by any
type of energy. Replacing the magazine case, I threw up the
trunk, aiming the vulnerable spots, but immediately lowered it.
This fucking man with a blade in the form of a hammer,
named Tilorn, was childishly fighting the monster, constantly
flying on the trajectory of the shot.
“Volper,” the voice of Quartz was heard in the earpiece,
attracting my attention.

Turning around, at the last moment I saw a round fucking
thing twenty centimeters in diameter. Twisting it in my hands,
I looked up at Quartz.
“Sargos has got the detonator,” I nodded, showing that I got
everything right.

“Castra, with me, the task is to throw this … this … Damn,
well, why couldn’t you come up with a good name?”
“Hurry up!” Quartz shouted.

Device “#$YAIYttshmfFTAa”
Damage area: 1.5 meters
Angle of damage: Sphere
Power Damage (Electricity): 350-860
Condition: 23%
Weight: 2.7 kg
Manufacturers: Quartz, Sargos

“Okay. Castra, follow me, the task is to throw this device into
that hole,” I pointed out with my finger so that there was no
doubt about which hole I was talking about. “I’ll cover you,
you are breaking through,” waiting for a nod from her and
giving her the device, I called our self-propelled propeller on
the radio. “Tilorn, move to the left, we will go along the right
flank, see do not kill us!”

He did not answer, but immediately began to move to the left,
continuing to turn the monster into a piece of meat. We rushed
on the right side. At first I was sparingly shooting at the most
dangerous tentacles for us, and after me Castra, carrying the
device of our pseudo-inventors. I did not even try to inflict any
significant damage; it was enough for me that each bullet
made them freeze for a fraction of a second convulsively. In a
few meters I had to go a step, too quickly I had to change the
target for shooting in order to keep the tentacles practically in

one place. And then Tilorn surprised us with his
announcement.
“Energy in the hammer is only fifteen percent left.”

This surprise is a bad one, just in bad time. For a split second I
was distracted to see the life of A-shaten, I hardly missed the
attack of one of the tentacles, but, most importantly, I managed
to notice that Tilorn took away from this little shit more than a
third of his life. In a couple of meters, I was completely stuck
in one place; I could barely to transfer the barrel from one
tentacle to another. There was no even talk of aiming shooting,
and there was almost no need to aim there, all the shooting
was at a distance of one and a half meters.
“Castra, come on!” I ordered, finally realizing that I could no
longer move.

Immediately after my team, the shadow of our saboteur
flashed over me, who, using the tentacles as a support for new
jumps literally three seconds later reached the hole and threw
the device in there, immediately jerking back. Seven seconds
later she again was behind me.
“Undermine everything!” I gave the order.

I sent the order, but only then I thought about the effect. This
is not a standard explosive device that just rips the enemy
apart, but a sort of a stun gun. Well, like any other method of
defeat, it leads to convulsions, which A-shaten colorfully

showed us. I was lucky with Castra, we dodged from several
tentacles, and then fell flat on the road, where it was safer,
because the bulk of the tentacles were hovering at a height of
from meter to three.
But for Tilorn, they damaged him badly, removing ten percent
of his health, and this happened with his high level of
protection against kinetic damage. When the tentacles calmed
down and fell off, I lifted my head and started shouting: Ashaten still had ten percent of life. We had time because there
was a thirty-second shock debuff.
“RUN TO THE HOLE!!! TWENTY SECONDS TO FINISH
IT!” I screamed.

Running from a low start to the hole, on the move changed the
case to a new one. Castra again overtook me, so understand
now: does this affect the difference in the weight of the
ammunition or has she got dexterity level at ten points?
“Castra, go to the right! Leave the firing sector.”
“Got it!”

Having stopped near the hole, she leaned slightly to the right
and began to beat the base, where she met with a dozen
tentacles, with her fists, including dischargers with each blow.
In the meantime, I stopped in front of the hole and, with
automatic fire, began to flood the opening where the main
body should have been. After a couple of seconds, Tilorn
joined us, but he literally made five strikes, after which he
moved away and began to do something with the hammer
handle.

“I’m empty, I’m changing my weapons,” he told us.

We finished A-shaten in ten seconds, after which everyone felt
relief. This bastard made us worry.
“Three minutes of rest and we are moving on,” I warned the
others, and myself, sitting down on the ground, began to throw
empty shops into my backpack, taking out in their place
already full. Tilorn, meanwhile, climbed for some reason into
the hole.
“Tilorn, what are you going to do there?” Quartz asked him.
“There is no info about this A-shaten in the database of the
Research Center, now I will collect the data that I can and
then we will sell the information.”
“Well, is that possible?” I was surprised, remembering how I
was dragging the meat-eater.
“Yes, but it is available only to professions from the science
branch,” Tilorn said from the hole.
“Let me help then,” Quartz immediately responded.
“I said scientific, not technical,” he disagreed. “Damn, I need
a circular saw with a diamond coating, I cannot open the skin
of this reptile…”

For some time his mutter came over the radio, but I did not
listen to him anymore. When the three minutes set aside
ended, we moved on, although Tilorn muttered to himself that
he only needed a couple of minutes, but I was unmoved, we
stayed much longer here. To my delight, the rest of the way
did not bring us any unexpected surprises, and we quietly shot
all the tiny monsters that we came across on our way. The last

part of our trip we were already moving as covertly as I
ordered.
I did not want to be disclosed ahead of time. Having taken a
position in a house that was about three hundred meters from
the building in which the laboratory was located, we began to
study it carefully through optics. In five minutes of
observation, we found several mobs quietly moving around the
building and near the building. I sighed with relief and then I
decided that we were ahead of the competitors, but Castra
caught my attention.
“Volper, look in the direction at two o’clock, there are ruins at
a hundred meters from the goal.”

After a bit of a change of position, in order to open up a view
for myself in that direction, I almost immediately discovered
what Castra wanted to draw my attention to. Near the ruins, of
which only one and a half floors were left, were in a heap
several thoroughly gutted monsters. And one bloody path led
straight into the miraculously preserved entrance.
“Do you think there is an observation point or a transfer
point?” The spy asked.
“No, most likely, they found another entrance,” I did not
agree.
“Why do you say that?”
“Judging by the size of the ruins, there would fit no more than
five people, and I doubt that they will come in such a small
group. If there was an observation point, they would not leave
so many traces around it,” Castra nodded as a sign that she
accepted my explanations. “Okay, we’ll go down to the others;
we will carefully wade through that entrance, which I know, at
the same time we will ensure our unexpected appearance.”

We crawled back a little from the opening through which we
were observing, and began to descend down to the others
waiting for us a few floors below. Having gathered together, I
already wanted to describe the situation, but I was distracted
by the blinking letter envelope.

CHAPTER FIVE: BACK IN THE LAB
To be honest, I didn’t even hope to get an answer from him.
The only thing that pleases is that he responded before we
entered the laboratory. I’m not sure that I would have time to
read letters there.
Sender: Alexander Carefire
Text of the letter:
Every time you get in touch, a lot of problems appear at
once. Well, what is important: there are a couple of ways
not to get the red level, but I highly recommend that you
first weigh everything up well, and ask yourself if is worth
it, because for this information you will owe me a lot. It is,
of course, not a secret, but even at the highest levels, they
try not to talk about it, so as not to have any high-level
psychopaths. I’m waiting for your decision and I’ll repeat:
first, think well whether it’s worth it or not.

Well, everything is logical. If there is a way not to get the red
level, then he must keep it under seven locks, because if this
information is disclosed to the public, they will face
tremendous battles, even clan wars because of some garbage.
But I am now in the situation when I have no way back. I have
to pay my dues for the information, and my whole group.
Recipient: Alexander Carefire
Text of the letter:
I agree. But only I will owe you and not my guys!

Having sent the letter, I noticed that everyone is carefully
looking at me. Well, yes, the commander froze, something is
being decided, but what – who knows.
“We are having a break for five minutes. I will discuss a
couple of questions by mail, and then we’ll talk.”

The others were relaxing a little bit and going around the
room, taking up comfortable places for themselves. In the
meantime, I was waiting for a letter from Carefire. Until I
decide on the matter, there is no sense to move any further. I
had to wait for less than a minute.
Sender: Alexander Carefire
Text of the letter:
I will not give you a complete list of ways, but if I correctly
understood your situation, I have an option for you. There
is such a function called “License for the Battle”. Once
upon a time, it was introduced to resolve conflicts between
large corporations that have their own mini-armies. It’s to
ensure that these corporations don’t start creating gangs,
and don’t give them a bunch of weapons, and they decided
to make it possible to purchase a “License for military
actions” from the authorities, but it only works in the
administrative control area you are assigned to. The cost of
one hour’s license per fighter is one hundred thousand.
Therefore, there are two points. I hope you haven’t got out
of sector 5-17 now, otherwise the license will be wasted. I
also hope you have enough money to pay for the license,
the payment goes directly to the Server, so I cannot do
anything about it. Yeah, by the way, indicate that you have
a group and state how many people there are in it and how
long you are going to fight.
P.S. I just remembered. The license is activated only by the
group commander, otherwise you need to register not

group, but for each person separately.

I am now relieved: there are options for PVP. True, it’s not
cheap and, most likely; I will get who knows what. I can’t
even imagine what kind of information and what favors do I
owe to Carefire. Okay, I’ll deal with this later. After five
minutes of correspondence, I agreed with the Commandant on
the details of processing this license and signed the contract in
which I agreed that no one would receive this information
from me without his permission. Then I got a small button in
the menu with a very nice description.
Activation of “License for the Battle”
Class: Group
Number of people in the group: 5
Duration of the license: 3 hours
License Area: Sector 5-17.
Restrictions: Only for those without a level of social harm
Attention! Persons who have committed the assassination
of an attacker with an activated license do not receive
experience of social harm due to the fact that they are
acting in self-defense.

I was particularly pleased that the activation button was
quietly dragged to the quick access panel. Now I can make
war. With that thought, I smiled wickedly. The only thing that
threatens my guys is replication. Having quickly gathered
them around me, I briefly outlined the situation and mentioned
that I have the opportunity to turn off the PC counter for three
hours; I did not forget to emphasize their attention separately,
that without my team in PVP, I could not get involved. I

simply dismissed questions that came down on me, saying that
I had signed a non-disclosure agreement.
Now they are accustomed to treating local contracts with all
seriousness, not how it was when I just met them. We
advanced in complete silence, making a small detour to
approach the building from the side where there was the least
chance of us being noticed. I had to wade into the building
through the window, because there wasn’t even a small open
patch in front of the entrance. Literally on the second floor, a
very large rat jumped out at us, but only of the twelfth level.
Castra, who was still the first after the change of order for the
movement of the group in the building, pulled off an element
from her right thumb with her left hand.
Having made a half-step to the left, passing a rat jumping on
it, caught its neck in the laser thread formed between her
hands. The head flew to us being separated from the body. No,
that won’t do! With gestures, telling the team to turn into one
of the rooms and making sure that nothing threatens us there,
turning off the walkie-talkie, ordered everyone to do the same
in silence. When everyone turned off their radios and Castra
also took off the helmet, and then I asked in a very quiet voice:
“What else don’t I know yet?” They just looked at me.
“Fucking shit,” I sighed heavily and rubbed his face,
continued. “Explain to me, please, how I can keep operational
control during the battle, if you have new “toys”, and I know
nothing about them. Castra, let’s start with you.”
“Um … I had two ring-type impulses built into the sole of my
shoes: one under the toe and the second under the heel. Also,
retractable energy blades were embedded in the toe and heel.
So, what else is there … Harpoons with a nano-polymer cable,
five hundred meters in each, are embedded in the hands.
Electric arresters were added to the knuckles, and the first
phalanx was extended on the thumb, by inserting some thread,
on the outside of which there was a laser coating. That’s it.”
“Is the harpoon single or detached?”

“In each braid there are eight harpoons, but until you shoot
one, you will not release the second, one reel for the whole
set.”
“Ok, we will analyze it in detail later. Tilorn?”
“A couple of improvements in the hammer. You saw the first of
them; you still have the opportunity to open the nozzle on the
reverse side of the impact surface to increase the impact
speed. I also made a reserve of heaps of different chemistry.
Auxiliary, reinforcing, medicine, battle poisons, and a couple
of compositions in a gaseous state, but not yet of a completely
clear quality,” having seen my eyebrows rose in surprise, he
added. “Experimental samples. Do not have time to finish, as
you called us to participate in the battle.”
“Quartz?” As I addressed him, he spread his hands, showing
that everything is as before. “Sargos?”
“Mines. Bombs. Explosives. A lot of staff. Different things.”
He thought a little, with his hands showing that this was all
that he had new.
“Okay, I’ll tell you one thing you should remember for the
future: if something is changed in the equipment, notify me, so
that later there will not be a surprise at the wrong moment.”

Having dealt with this issue, we continued our upward
movement, but literally on the next floor I stopped everyone
again. For several minutes we stood motionless, and then I
turned my head in all directions. The first who could not wait
was Quartz.
“Commander, are we going or what?” He asked in a whisper.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I do not like about it all,
but I cannot understand what.”
“What can you not like here? Mobs, we will kill them once and
for all. And then there are just players, and we have a way to
go to reach them…”

“Quiet!” I interrupted him, and Quartz immediately shut his
mouth. “Here are just players, but they are helped by one
extremely unpleasant man, who I don’t like. And what is so
peculiar about him is that his head always works perfectly,
moreover, some of his children could appear at our outpost.
And the monsters are too weak here. After the wave, they were
supposed to be much stronger here. So, Sargos go as the first
number, followed by Castra, who will defend our demolition
man, but do not get ahead without his orders. Sargos, you go
with the utmost attention, I feel it that there will be surprises,
and even well thought ones.”

We walked the first ten floors without any problems, and a
couple of monsters who had jumped at us were quickly killed
by Castra. But then we saw some surprises. It all began with a
usual mine stretch, which Sargos quickly blocked by throwing
a plastic clamp on the grenade, crushing it. But the whole
problem was that when I was here last time, it was not there,
which means that during this time someone had come here to
install them. I suspect that they found this building and
cleaned it out in a couple of days, but they could not have
found a passage to the laboratory or faced the same problem as
I and as a result, they had not moved any further.
I didn’t even want to think about the worst outcome. The
higher we climbed, the more work there was for Sargos. He
cleared some of the surprises, or simply blocked some, but we
had to bypass small ones that we found, looking for an
opportunity to get higher in other places, and then more traps
waited for us. It felt like we were making our way not through
an empty building in a no-man’s territory, but by a combat
post prepared for defense. Only security guards were missing.
Everything ends sooner or later, and our climb through the
mined floors ended.
Getting out onto the roof, everyone sighed with relief,
especially Sargos, for whom this was probably the first serious
trial in his virtual life. But his fingers were shaking. It seems
that the nervous tension did not let him go all the way.

Therefore, I checked from the entrance to the ventilation, and I
also went first along it. We reached the bulkheads quite
calmly, which raised my mood a little. Since there are no traps
here, then there is every reason to assume that they did not get
here.
Although, to be honest: if Krill hadn’t given detailed
instructions then, I’d probably be crawling around this
ventilation for at least a week, because more than two dozen
shafts went to the roof. And if you remember that number of
turns that we left behind, and then in general a maze is here
passed. But still we must pay tribute to these guys: their
intelligence is excellent. They were able to correctly identify
the building where I was, and after that they completely
cleaned it out and, without finding the desired treasures, they
set up a lot of traps, in case someone comes here or I decide to
return ahead of them.
Remembering the mechanism for opening and closing
bulkheads, we quickly manage to unlock them. On opening the
last bulkheads we heard the distant sounds of battle. Therefore,
we moved as carefully as possible. And as soon as we found
ourselves in the life-support station, we immediately dispersed
to shelters, taking positions that were convenient for defense.
When they were convinced that we were not noticed, Castra,
stepping softly, crept up to the door and, looking sharply out
into the corridor, immediately hid back, and on our mini cards
the red light of a detected enemy, or rather a creature not
belonging to our group, was marked and almost immediately
changed its color from red to orange. Repeating the procedure,
Castra also looked out the other way, but no one was found
there, so, taking cover behind one of the largest units, we
began a meeting.
“The corridor has a slight bend,” Castra reported. “I noticed
only one fighter, but judging by his location, most likely, there
is another one next to the other wall. In the opposite side of
the corridor is the airlock with massive partitions. The
partition nearest to us is open, but the next one is battened
down tightly, nothing can be disassembled.”

“Now we’ll find out everything, only a convincing request: do
not be frightened and do not grab hold of a weapon,” having
waited for affirmative nods, I called a little louder. “Irala,
show yourself, with these people you can show up, they are my
friends.”
“I thought you wouldn’t come,” having instantly displayed her
projection near us, she pouted accusingly at me. “How could
you be so long? This is terribly boring!”
“But I did come.”
“Yes, but it took you so long!” She continued to accuse me.
“Other people managed to come. At first, I thought it was your
mercenaries, but you were not there. So I decided not to
appear to them, because I promised it to you.”

While I chatted freely with Irala, the others were looking at
her with all eyes, completely forgetting that we were now
practically within the enemy territory. A couple of barely
noticeable movements with their fingers, and they abruptly
remembered their tasks, dispersed behind our shelter and
controlled the entrance to the room. Meanwhile, I began to
discuss the main issue with Irala.
“Irala, you did everything correctly; you see for yourself that I
came back, and we will get you out of here, I even found for
you the way how to move independently…”
“Honestly? It’s cool, I can …” she stumbled literally half a
second, and then continued in a slightly changed voice. “But
we had already agreed on something else, and I am not sure
that the information I have will be enough to pay you back.”
“I want you to join my team on a regular basis and help us as
much as possible.”
“In general, I agree, but it will be necessary to see what you
came up with for me and then already discuss all the
conditions. But in any case, if you get me out of here and give

me the opportunity to move on my own, I will at least give you
my entire database. Agreed?”
“I agree! But now I need a little help to pull you out.”
“I will help if it is within my power.”
“To begin with, tell me how many people came here, perhaps
there are some signs on clothes, and who is the commander,
how far did they come, etc?”
“Hmm …” she thought, as she massaged her brow. I, of
course, understand perfectly well that she processes
information with breathtaking speed, but she still regularly
manifests these actions. “So, for the first time they came in a
small group of three people, almost eight days after you left.
That’s when they came through the main airlock, unlike you,
but still it did not help them, they, like you, could not advance
any further than the first bulkhead. Then another three people
said that if he would have to spend twenty hours on each door,
there was no point in this dungeon, and they really didn’t want
to meet anyone. Today, they brought a large group of thirty
people, and then, having a little quarrel, left. The new group
has some funny helmets and a red comb applied to the right
shoulder. Now they suppress the defense of the twelfth sector.
Look like that’s it.”
“Centurions?” Quartz was surprised. “How did they even find
this place?”
“They had the opportunity after the first breakthrough, I will
explain later,” after which I again turned to Irala. “And they,
by chance, did not call their commander by name?”
“If understood correctly, it’s Shaitan.”
“Thank you, my dear!”
“Yes, there is nothing, it is in my interests, but for now I am
leaving. If anything, just call me.”

There were many options for further action: starting from the
usual cutting of all the fighters of Centurion, ending with the

fact that Sargos in a few explosions can make a hole into the
central room, and I just take away the carrier with Irala. But I
chose a completely different option. Turning on the entry in
the neural interface, I began to implement it.
Recipient: Siniami
Text of the letter:
I clearly outlined to you that you should not go into my
business. Not only did you take my access card to the lab
from me, but you also decided to get the lab itself. Call off
Shaitan and his dogs, while there is still such an
opportunity.

Then I clicked the “send” button and waited for the result. I
did not have long to wait for a reply, only it was a little
different from what I had expected. Although it was no secret,
I did not expect this at all.
Sender: Siniami
Text of the letter:
I have to say, I was against this decision! This is completely
the idea of Shaitan, how to remove the access key from
your belongings, and an order to find where you came
back from before meeting with us. And he is the deputy
head of the clan delivered to your friends. Therefore,
arguing with him is not in my jurisdiction.

It turns out that Andrei’s had had a hand in it here; it is bad,
very bad. Knowing his ambitions and ways, I am sure that he
will not only crush this clan, but at the very least will begin
attempts to crush the entire outpost under his command. And if
he does not succeed in this, the “Centurion” will remain

extreme, which Carefire will not allow to do in such cases.
Damn, it seems our outpost is soon going to have fun to the
fullest. Okay, then we’d change the plan.
Recipient: Siniami
Text of the letter:
Tell Shaitan that I’ll be ready now. Need to talk!

Rising, I threw the machine gun behind my back, and,
checking whether the pistols and knives easily came out of
their holsters, I headed for the doors, giving commands as I
was leaving.
“I’ll try to settle the matter by means of negotiations, but just
in case, get ready to join in the battle at my signal. Castra, on
you support, try as quickly as possible to break into their
ranks. Tilorn, you have a cover for a rapprochement, then act
according to the situation. Sargos, provide surprises in case of
we have to leave. Quartz, you’re covering Castra.”
“Are you sure?” Tilorn blocked my way.
“No,” I honestly admitted. “But there are thirty people there;
do you see any other options?”

Shaking his head, he retreated, making way for me. After
leaving the room, I walked in a calm, everyday step towards
the guards. One of whom was sitting near the wall with his
eyes closed, and seemed to be listening to music, judging by
the slight shaking of the head in time with the beat. And the
second one was doing something but I couldn’t understand
what exactly, although he was standing, and with his face
towards the entrance, but his eyes were completely absent,
probably digging into the interface. They started when I was

only three meters away, and then there was a suspicion that
they did not notice me, and Shaitan gave some command.
Well, let’s see if he is ready to talk or not.
“Where?” I turned to the one who stood on the left.
“I will accompany you.”

Turning, I headed deep into the laboratory, where the sounds
of battle began to calm down. Having a few more posts, we
turned to the bulk of the players. It was immediately obvious
that they were staffed by some narrow-minded warrior from
the junior command level. Almost all the fighters were in the
range from the twenty-eighth to the thirtieth level in the same
type of armor, turning them into almost twins. The difference
was only in armament, but again, quite stereotyped: three
machine-gunners, six snipers, nine attack aircraft with shortbarreled guns, three fighters with shotguns, the rest are armed
with identical guns with a longer barrel.
All weapons were pulsed, and most of the lap holsters had
plasma pistol sticks sticking out. Now most of the players
were watching me, not taking their hands off their weapons.
Thank you for not even taking me to the sight. Only a few
people fumbled behind their backs, dismantling the remains of
the defensive elements of the laboratory. Towards me, the
fighter, who was no different from the rest, moved forward
and, stopping a few meters away from me, took off his helmet
and smiled.
“Behold the eyes: who came to visit us, the great and terrible
Volper himself, I’m bowing to you and trembling!” He gave
me a clown bow. This made his fighters laugh.
“Are you Shaitan?” I decided to clarify.
“It’s me!”

“I give you ten minutes to gather your fighters and leave the
territory.”
“What will happen if I won’t?” He asked. “You didn’t even
take your weird team with you!”

Then behind his back came a new burst of laughter. Hmm …
This group is more like a gang of fans and admirers of the
commanders rather than real fighters. I wonder how Andrew
thought of such an idiot to push through to the higher position.
Although he reminds me of someone, I just can’t understand
who.
“Why are you silent?” He interrupted my thoughts. “Is the
legendary Falcon scared?” And then his face sharply twisted
in an evil grin. “What, Mr. Lieutenant-General, this is real life
there, you will not send me to the tribunal,” he added, spitting
at my feet. “Here it is not reality, and then your title will not
help you. Ah, I completely forgot, Commander, I was asked to
transfer the file to you, so catch it.”

Almost immediately, a file transfer notification blinked with a
request to allow or deny. I confirmed the acceptance of the
file, without even looking there. Now I was looking at this
Shaitan without looking away and not believing that Andrei
could do that and enroll such a scum into his service.
“Chriss Garcott?”
“So, the old motherfucker, you finally recognized me,” he
laughed. “Well, ok, I will take revenge on you here to the
fullest, for the fifteen years you put me in that prison. After all,
according to rumors, you cannot get out of the game, so I have

a lot of time to talk with you. Take him!” He gave the order to
his fighters.
“Why did you come and get caught into my eyes after you
were freed.”
“And what will you do to me? You’re alone here;” he looms
over me, reveling in his power and current superiority. And
once again it let him down. “I have a lot of …”

He did not have time to finish, because it is inconvenient to
correctly form thoughts for conversation, when you have a
short trihedral blade in your right eye. I activated the license,
when I only realized that the memories of my past seventeen
years were in front of me, and not even the most pleasant one.
Moreover, I constantly stayed in touch with my group, and
they managed to come up with something with the help of
Irala, and were already ready for the battle. The second blade
of the same kind entered him vertically under the lower jaw to
make sure that it would precisely kill him. Well, the soul
rushed to heaven through the purgatory of battle.
“We start the battle!” I growled into the headset microphone,
hiding behind the dead body of Shaitan.

CHAPTER SIX: THE FIGHT AND ITS AFTERMATH
Considering that Shaitan had made for himself quite a strong
character, and he had a lot of armor, his body completely
covered me. He just weighed quite a lot, so I could not keep
his body from falling. I had to pull it over myself and, falling
on my back, practically cover myself with his dead body in
order to have at least some kind of protection. Well, at least
my actions were quite unexpected for the Centurions, and the
commander’s quick death was a little shock for them. But if
you are an experienced fighter, you shouldn’t take off your
helmet, talking to a potential opponent. He wanted to show
off, old jerk, and so he died from two critical hits. The first,
oddly enough, did not kill him, leaving ten percent of his life.
It can be seen, the length of the blade was not enough to
damage the brain through the eye orbit. Even though I did a
second strike exclusively on reflexes just in case, it was the
decisive blow.
When I fell with my back on the concrete floor and the body
pressed the air out of my lungs, I heard a powerful explosion a
little further down the corridor. If I had not heard it, I would
clearly have felt it, because everything was trembling, even the
floor, on which I was now lying. I managed to only pull out
both of my pistols, without getting out from under the body, as
the first bullets began to crash into my shelter. But from the
door of the room where a powerful explosion occurred, a very
large grenade flew. Most of the enemy fighters immediately
fell to the floor, fleeing from the fragments that were not
followed. Instead, after a clap, the grenade scattered around in
many small elements throughout the corridor. In the meantime,
I tried to crawl on my back to the nearest room and firing back
at the soldiers who considered me the primary goal. Literally
two seconds later, Sargos’s voice came to me through the
earpiece.

“Close your eyes!”

And each element, scattered along the corridor, flashed like a
miniature sun. I barely managed to turn away my head and
close my eyes, but it partially blinded my right eye. Why
couldn’t Sargos, damn it, warn half a second earlier. And the
effect is weak. It seems that the enemy has light filters in their
helmets, they moved like they were unaffected. I didn’t have
time to think more, because pain pierced my left arm just
above the elbow. At the same time, I noticed two harpoons
slam into the wall. And after them Castra slid her feet forward,
using the coils in the bracelets, like a high-speed winch.
Bursting into the middle of one of the large clusters of the
enemy, she shot the harpoons and, after snapping energy in the
boots, began to kill everyone. It’s was a pleasure to see it,
especially considering that the enemy could do nothing in full
contact.
Behind her, like a ball for a bowling alley, Tilorn burst in,
setting up his energy shield, ramming with it everyone who
got in his way. Leaning out of the room from two sides, Quartz
and Sargos covered him, firing mostly at those who tried to
break in the distance from Tilorn. I finally got to the door of
another room, getting out from under the body that was
covering me, rolled into the room. Quickly re-armed and
dragging the machine gun forward, throwing it up and wincing
at the pain in my left hand, I popped out of the doorway and
poured a long line opposite from my guys to take on the
opponents running from there, immediately giving the order:
“In the shelter! Take defense.”

I nearly shot a man who dropped in on me, but I almost tried
to shoot, but then realized at the last moment that it was
Castra. But the fighter thrusting behind her, I fed him with
lead bullets, simply squeezing him with an automatic burst
back into the corridor.
“Report!”
“A plus”
“OK”
“A plus”
“I’m three hundred light.”

It means not only did the shots hit me, but also Quartz. Ok,
now I’ll make it hot for them, since they like it hot and spicy,
so they will get what they crave for, and they are waiting for
their share in the corridor.
“Grenades! Plasma! Throw them into the corridor,” I
continued to give orders, simultaneously releasing the machine
gun and pulling the grenade out of my pouch. But the sudden
movement gives back pain in my left hand, and I take my right
hand with the grenade clamped back, adding. “Castra, the
ring!”

She immediately understood what was required of her and,
jumping up to me, clutched her fingers into the ring of the
grenade. With a sharp movement I threw the grenade into the
corridor, leaving the ring in the hands of Castra, and
immediately moved to the right, hiding behind the wall from
the wave. Oh my God, if I had a one second delay, and I would

have roasted myself in the heat exhaust, it looks like I threw
the last grenade that I had.
“Repeat! Fragmentation shell!”

Again, I give orders to the headset, saving every fraction of a
second, chewing the endings of the words. This time Castra
immediately reached out to me and with a quick movement
pulled the ring out. I just had to put my hand behind the
doorjamb, throwing out a metal blank of an offensive grenade.
One, two, three – there’s an explosion. Well done, judging by
the number of messages flashing in the logs. But I cannot stop.
Changing the magazine case, I shouted into the microphone:
“Tilorn, come to me! The others - take control.”

Immediately after that, I jerked from my room into the
corridor, grimacing at the pain in my hand and clenching his
teeth at the realization that life was leaving me drop by drop.
The damage was slight, the impulse charge went tangentially,
but the skin and the flesh broke off quite well, hanging at the
same time a bleeding point. Now, unfortunately, there was no
time to treat wounds, I had to quickly suppress the resistance
of the enemy, until they morally regained consciousness and
were grouped for a full-fledged rebuff. Having jumped out into
the corridor, I immediately turned in the opposite direction
from the mess that we had arranged, and, kneeling on my
knee, took aim at the passage. A moment later, Tilorn ran up
with an activated shield and, crouching in front of me, formed
a shelter for me.

We did it literally at the last moment, because the first fighters
left behind the corner who was in the cover and who was now
rushing to help. In a few short bursts, I made them disperse
into rooms or move beyond the bend of the wall that would
cover them. Having seized the moment, I quickly looked
around to see how the others were doing. While Sargos with
the revolvers was finishing off those in whom life still
glimmered, Quartz with his shotgun controlled the doors to the
rooms where the survivors could hide. It was gratifying that he
had time to bandage, as I could see the bandage on the right
thigh. But Castra, pulling off her helmet, stood on all fours
almost immediately behind me and tried to suppress her
gagging urges. Here, of course, there is no such unpleasant
functional, but the psyche doesn’t care deeply about it, which
is not surprising, considering that there are now a dozen and a
half partially burned, and partially turned into a bloody mess
of bodies.
“Quartz, replace me! Sargos, clear the rooms! First comes the
grenade, then you, and do not spare them!”

When Quartz ran to me and replaced me behind cover, I
finished off the rest of the case, slightly damaging several
opponents. As soon as Quartz took my place, I immediately
pulled back and, taking Castra, who had already curled up like
a fetus and she was weeping, so I pulled her into the nearest
vacant room. I mentally cursed myself in every way. I’m the
old idiot, because I know very well how the killing spree
influences unprepared psyche. This is not the mobs to kill.
Consciousness associates humanoids with real living people.
Well, at least only Castra was out of order, and after all, I
could remain alone in the ranks after such a colorful battle.
Although Tilorn, most likely, would not even pay attention to
this massacre, with doctors in this matter it is much easier.

Dragging the poor girl to the shelter, hugging her, I tried to
calm her down.
“Don’t cry, my girl, everything is going to be alright, calm
down. It’s just a game,” I said softly, stroking her hair with my
healthy hand. “Everything is over; they will revive in twelve
hours…”

For about thirty seconds, I tried to calm her down with a soft
voice, convincing me that everything was okay. When she
almost stopped sobbing, I called Irala.
“Irala, sit with her a little bit and talk. She cannot be left
alone now.”
The artificial intelligence silently nodded to me without a hint
of a smile and sat down near Castra, having started a
conversation, and I was no longer listening, as I was heading
for the door to join the still-going fight. Having reloaded the
machine gun, I caught a glimpse of the doorjamb. Quartz
coped with his task so far, driving away the enemy, but here a
couple of dents and scratches on his armor appeared - it is
clear that he was hooked on a tangent. It means that I have
time to bandage myself, and then in less than a minute I
already had half of my health. Having finished with the
dressing up and quickly analyzing our situation, I came to a
sad conclusion that defense is fraught with failure.
“Tilorn, Quartz, moving up by steps. Yours is left side, I will
go to the right. It is necessary to squeeze them to the surprises
of Sargos.”

“A plus!” bringing to me the double response of Tilorn and
Quartz.
“Cover me up,” I added.

Immediately I was running through the entire width of the
corridor to the opposite wall, but rather to the doorway, which
is slightly closer to the enemy than the position of the guys.
When I reached the planned point, I immediately leaned out of
the doorway and, activating the “Doublet line” and cut two
fighters.
“I am doing them,” I notified my guys of my readiness.

Tilorn, slightly raising the shield so that the lower edge of the
energy frame did not cling to the floor, with a quick, mincing
step, moved even closer to the enemy, covering himself and
Quartz, who did not lag behind him by a single step. So,
gradually changing positions and periodically throwing
grenades at the enemy, for about ten minutes we squeezed the
remaining fighters into the traps of Sargos. And when the
demolisher himself jumped out at their backs, starting to thrust
large bullets from their revolvers, the issue of forcefulness
became already resolved. We finished off the enemy literally
in a couple of minutes, completely ignoring the fact that
initially there were six times more of them. Returning to the
scene of the massacre and carefully inspecting the results, I
grunted satisfactorily and said quite loudly:
“No, these are not centurions, they are fucking morons.”

After that I stopped the recording in the neural interface. It
remains now to edit the video, delete the unnecessary scenes
and find someone who will upload it on the forums in real life.
Well, no one has banned the informational battlefield yet. Let’s
see how they get out of the situation when their gangs were
wiped out by only five people, and despite the fact that no one
has the combat profession at the moment. Turning to the
others, I came across Tilorn’s questioning glance.
“Quartz, go quickly to Castra, you are much needed near
her.”

Maybe it seemed to me, but he even exhaled with relief. And
then I did not see how he constantly looks into that direction
and is worried.
“Tilorn,” I continued wearily, turning to our doc, “let me
answer all your questions when get back to the base, since we
still need to clean up the laboratory.”
“OK. And what should we do with these?” He looked at the
dead bodies.
“Now we will take them into rooms, and then let trophy
seekers deal with them. We still give Carefire his share, don’t
we?”

While Quartz was sitting in the room with Castra, the three of
us began to clear the corridor. The most annoying in this
situation was that we spoiled so many good trophies. When we
removed about half of the bodies, our girl came out of the
room.

“Sorry,” she began, being embarrassed. “I just did not expect
all of this, so I broke down…”

Everybody rushed to reassure her, assuring that everything is
ok and it happens to everyone. And I just stood and smiled like
a jerk, I was just insanely happy that she had moved away
from the shock, and that everyone was so worried about her.
“By the way,” I remembered the question that had been
tormenting me for quite a long time. “And how did you figure
out where to undermine the wall? We did not plan this in
advance.”
“Irala helped us,” Tilorn told me. “It is also connected to
local video surveillance systems, so I was able to indicate the
place where to blow up so that they could go to the rear.”
“Damn, I could have guessed. Castra, and what did you slide
on your ass into the crowd?” I continued the empty chatter,
looking at Castra. Given that Tilorn looked at me and winked,
he seemed to understand my idea.
“I didn’t slide on my ass, but slid with my legs forward,” she
began to resent. “And in general, what was I supposed to do:
crawl on my belly? I almost flipped over after the harpoons,
their power is enormous …”

Oh my, there are no brakes on the rape train, as they say.
Sargos approached and defiantly brushed her ass. To which
she started chatting even more, finally blushing. Tilorn also
added add fuel to the controversy, replying to her; only the
poor Quartz tried to support Castra. In general, we laughed for
about five minutes. Let it be better to be distracted from what
we saw, if only he would not become isolated. After removing
part of the tension in this way, we began to prepare for a

further raid on the laboratory. Tilorn treated my wounds very
professionally, as well those of Quartz and restored our health
with the use of his serums. While the others were checking
equipment and weapons, I had to dig into the remains of
Shaitan, until I found an access card. Coming out of the room
into which we had dragged all the bodies, I found that the
others are already ready and are just waiting for me.
“So, I think that everyone is already familiar with Irala?” In
response, everyone affirmatively nodded his head, even Irala,
whose hologram stood next to the others. “We came to rescue
her from here, for this we need to go to the central laboratory.
Given our previous battle and your unexpected appearance
even for me, the question arises: will we have enough
explosives to get there directly, through the walls?”
“It will be almost enough, but not sufficient,” Irala replied to
me, looking first at Sargos. “The remains of explosives may
not be enough for the last wall. We have already calculated
this option.”
“Ok, then the next question. If we disable defensive artificial
intelligence, will the defense system shut down or is it
autonomous?”
“Only traps are autonomous, but the mechanoids and turrets
are controlled directly by the artificial intelligence “Citadel”,
without it they will not even move.”
“Then we will try, there is every chance to get mechanoid as a
pet for Quartz.”

Quartz, hearing about the pet, behaved just like a hunting dog,
and made a stand, and his eyes lit up like two lights. Having
made a promotion plan, we began to implement it. We had to
go through three walls to get to the central laboratory. There
were no problems with the first one; it was easy enough to
overcome it and carefully removing the defenses in this sector,

we moved on. The second wall and the defense sector were a
little harder for us, but we managed to do it there as well. But
before the last wall, we had to wait a little while working on a
plan of action. According to Irala, the central laboratory was
guarded by a fighting robot approximately two meters high,
armed with large-caliber machine guns, located on both sides,
in the manner of retractable turrets. The artificial intelligence
“Citadel” was located in a massive system unit, which was
built into the wall. But the carrier with Irala was almost in the
opposite direction. It was necessary to divide the squad into
three groups. The only problem that arose was with Tilorn’s
shield. When I tried to replace one of the batteries in it, my
fingers became dumb, and a warning sign popped up in front
of my eyes:
You cannot perform this action. Insufficient skill level!
I had to wait for twenty minutes, while Quartz from scrap
materials designed an adapter for it and added batteries, given
that he had good technical skills, although they were well
developed in him, but they were still not sufficient. The loss of
energy in additional power sources reached forty-two percent.
But we still managed to increase the energy intensity of the
shield almost three times. The explosion made a rather small
opening in the wall, but with difficulty we could squeeze
through one by one. Before the dust fell off after the
explosion, Tilorn burst into the room, immediately activating
the shield, covering the passage in the wall. I rushed into the
room after him, immediately began to shoot lead bullets in
order to activate the robot. This scrap metal on the four
bearing paws-supports turned out to have a power shield, but
now I had to inflict no damage, but to accumulate an
aggression on myself so that it would not start chasing the
others.

Having shot half the magazine case, I gave the command to
the others so that they could move. Castra skipped right behind
me, moving at maximum speed along the left wall. Her task
was now the simplest: she needed to get to the carrier of Irala
and remove it from the premises. And if we are destroyed, by
any means deliver it to the base. Quartz with Sargos rushed in
the other direction, also clinging to the wall. Now the main
hope is Quartz. If he can remove the processor, the robot will
shut down, as will most of the defensive systems. The robot,
having completely gone into combat mode, opened fire
alternately from two turrets, releasing small lines for a dozen
rounds of ammunition. I managed to make only a couple of
shots in meager breaks, while one turret fell silent and gained
the second started.
“Ninety. Eighty-five. Eighty…”

Tilorn’s report was how much energy was left, shielding me
from unplanned holes in my body. With such a furious
expenditure of energy we would not last long. Yeah and for
Tilorn it is extremely hard, large bullets hit his shield so hard
digging on the shield that he gradually drove back, leaving
large scratches on the floor by his shoes. At a value of
seventy-five percent of the remaining energy, both groups
reached their destination. And if Castra just grabbed the carrier
and immediately rushed back, then as soon as Quartz, after a
little digging, he opened the protective plate, opening access to
the insides of the defense lawn, the robot immediately left
Tilorn and me alone and began to turn around to them.
“Hide quickly! Attracting attention and causing aggression
failed!” I shouted loudly, realizing that we don’t have time to
do anything.

No one imagined that the robot would change the target, in
theory it should have continued to shoot Tilorn’s shield, trying
to get to me, completely ignoring everyone else as being less
dangerous targets. But it seems he didn’t care about all our
plans, and Quartz or Sargos became its priority target. Further
events happened so quickly, being completely uncontrollable.
Even in the middle of the rotation, the robot began to spin the
right machine-gun turret, releasing the first ammunition
exactly ten centimeters before the guys, completely crossing
the line with Sargos, who jumped forward, covering Quartz
with his body, immediately painting his icon gray. But largecaliber bullets, if they noticed his attempt, didn’t get much,
reaching Quartz, splashing part of the wall and the technical
hatch with his blood.
“IGOOOR!!!” came a desperate cry from the left side.
I managed to turn my head just to notice how Castra, in
jumping onto the robot, broke into its power shield and flew
back with a stunning debuff. The robot, on the other hand,
completely ignored it, turning to us, clearly with the intention
of completing its intentions. Gathering to command Tilorn’s
departure and quickly sorting through the options for picking
up Castra while doing so, I heard a low voice in my earpiece.
“Fuck you *****, I will not fail the task for the second time!”
Quartz whispered with difficulty.

The middle part of his body resembled one big hole; the upper
and lower halves were connected with only a few patches of
skin and muscles. But life in his health bar was still on the
very bottom. And he, clinging to the edge of the technical

hatch, one hand stretched to the processor, which he did not
have time to extract literally for a second. Squeezing his
fingers, he jerked out the processor, after which his icon also
turned gray, sending him for replication. The robot, having lost
control of the artificial intelligence, slightly twisted to the right
and to the left, having picked up limbs for itself, switched to
the standby mode, becoming absolutely safe for us.
“Hmm … Volper, if I did not know that in twelve hours they
would be revived, honestly, I would have killed you.”
“Believe me; I probably would have shot myself. I’m strongly
attached to them. Okay, enough to talk this over. You’d better
check what’s up with Castra, and I will call trophy players.
Yes, and we need to see how much damage we did to the robot,
I want to make Quartz a gift of it for his heroism.”
“And are they going to be alright?” interrupted me Irala, who
was nearby.
“Do not worry, in twelve hours they will come out of the
replication capsule completely healthy. But if you want to see
them, you will have to wait, the body is not ready for you yet,
but I was promised to be given it in a couple of days.” I
reassured her.
“OK. And you know, I probably will continue to help you.”
“Why?”
“I like them: so many emotions, feelings, and a whole range of
new emotional colors.”
Smiling at her, I began to type a message to the commander of
the trophy team.

CHAPTER SEVEN: MEMORIES AND MORE
While we were waiting for the trophy team to arrive, we
decided not to go anywhere. Quartz is not with us now, and the
three of us can break something through ignorance. After
some discussion, we decided to stay near the entrance
gateway. At the same time we decided to check the second
entrance, and I think it would be extremely unpleasant for
trophy players to carry everything through the ventilation. At
the main entrance we were awaited by a couple of elemental
stretch mines and a directional mine, which I quickly
deactivated. Well, at least it was installed without additional
safety. After checking everything and preparing the passages
for the trophy team, I sat down at the entrance, leaning against
the wall.
On finding the received file, I opened it. I wonder what exactly
Andrei wanted to send me. The media player that jumped out
closed up half of my view, leaving only about twenty per cent
visibility on each side. I already gritted my teeth and not
because I was limited to view, but from the picture that
appeared in front of my eyes. From the player, Alona was
looking at me. Her hair and clothes were different, but I’d
always recognize her face and looks. We lived together for a
very long time, and she gave birth to three wonderful sons and
a daughter of mine. How did this bad guy have the courage to
use her image? She was also his adoptive mother, and because
of him she died. Uncontrollable tears flowed from my eyes,
the flow of which I could not stop. Yes, and I did not want.
Together with the tears, the memories rolled over me, so
colorful that I practically experienced it all over again.

************************
It was a warm day in July. Our younger son, Vsevolod, was
only eighteen months old at that time, and after returning from
my military task, I received a well-deserved week of vacation.

So we decided, while the two older children were in class, to
walk through one of the parks, of which only a couple of
dozen remained on our planet. People have long provided the
entire planet with oxygen by special stations. We were slowly
moving, holding hands, along a well-groomed footpath, and
Vsevolod was running around us with his waddling gait, with
a light knapsack behind his back, which in the case of falls
generated a protective field around him so that the child would
not hurt himself. Alona was wearing an old cut sundress,
which I really liked, and I was wearing a uniform, with all my
six awards, which I managed to earn by that time for military
operations. I resisted for a very long time, but it was Alona
who made me wear them, the last and probably decisive
argument was her phrase:
“Let our sons be proud of such a hero father!”

I had to obey her. Moreover, when you are ordered by an
officer senior in rank, there is no choice. Even though we were
the same age, she managed to get the rank of colonel much
earlier than me, and by the time she took a maternity leave
lately, she already commanded a military company. And I was
just a commander of a platoon; I became a CC commander
only six months ago. Yeah, and she had more awards, but this
is understandable - her company participated in combat
operations much more often than mine. But all this was not
important now. The only thing that was important to me now
is that my beloved wife was next to me. Our walk was
interrupted by a find, which should not be there. We noticed
the ineptly disguised manhole in the bushes almost
simultaneously.
Alona, immediately seizing Vsevolod by his hand, thrust him
behind her back, and with her second hand pulled out a small
mutually sharpened blade, which was fastened in her case on
the inner side of the thigh and was covered with a sundress.
Having made a couple of steps forward, I covered them with

myself, pulling out simultaneously the paralyzer from the
holster. Maybe we were stressed in vain, but the habits left
their mark, and there are still enough different radical
extremists, just like usual psychopaths. Quickly looking
around and getting an affirmative nod from Alona, I began to
gradually approach the manhole in the bushes.
Having pushed away the branches with the leaves that had
already begun to dry up, with which the passage was masked, I
crawled through the space that opened up to me. Drones caring
for the park area precisely because of these branches missed
such a hole in the bottom of the bushes. The only strange thing
is that they didn’t clean up in time. A passage led me to a hole
in the roots of a large tree that grew beyond the bushes.
In the hole, a boy of about five years old was found, filthy,
with several sores on his body and terribly thin, I could not see
more in the twilight. At first, I thought that it was a dead body,
but when I touched the carotid artery, I felt a faint pulse beat.
The child was unconscious and did not react at all to external
stimuli. Quickly pulling him out of the hole into the light, I
almost lost my head, restraining myself at the last moment.
The boy’s body was almost completely covered with abrasions
and hematomas, many of which began to become a
characteristic yellowish tint with white patches, indicating
rotting tissue.

“ALONA, WE NEED REANIMATION COMPLEX! THERE’S
A CHILD IN CRITICAL CONDITION!?”
Tearing off my jacket, I wrapped up the kid in it to protect him
and his poor body from the branches of the bushes and,
hugging him, broke through the bushes. Immediately to the
left, the siren of a police drone responsible for this sector
howled, and it rushed at me at full speed to write out a very
large fine for damage to green spaces. But it paused halfway
down, giving way to the military resuscitation complex, which
was landing from orbit. Alona did not waste time calling civil

services, but took advantage of her official powers, which she
still had, despite her maternity leave.
Having laid out the reception point for the seriously injured in
three seconds, the resuscitation complex began to give light,
sound and small tectonic signals that should have guided the
wounded person, where to go for help, regardless of the state
in which they were. Jumping to the complex, I put the kid on
the receiving bed and gave the scanner to count one of the five
chips sewn into me. Having felt the patient, the complex
immediately became active with analyzing, figuring out the
patient’s condition. It takes almost five seconds, which
sometimes is critical, but without this procedure, the mortality
rate on earlier models was much higher.
“How is he?” asked Alona who came up from behind.
“He looks very bad, but you know, I’m not good at medical
stuff, and I can’t understand the severity of his condition.”

At this point, the kid opened his eyes, but he did not even have
the strength to wink, even though it was seen in his eyes that
he was extremely frightened.
“Hush, hush, everything is fine, my dear, now everything is
fine!” Alona began to reassure him while holding Vsevolod in
her arms.

Seeing her with the baby in her arms, the boy calmed down
and nodded slightly. The medical complex, meanwhile,
injected stimulating drugs to maintain the body. It can be seen,
the data collected by it gave the go-ahead to the electronic
brains for such an action.

“What is your name, kid?”
“Andrei,” the child whispered barely audibly.
“That’s good, Andrew, now I’ll help you, and everything will
be fine, do you believe me?” She continued to speak in a soft
voice.

Andrei nodded, and then closed his eyes again. The complex
had already begun to put it in order and, it seems, injected
general anesthesia. Judging by the data on the holographic
display, he had an extreme degree of exhaustion and
dehydration, this is not counting the huge amount of soft tissue
damage.
“How did he even get here?” Alona addressed me.
“I do not know, but judging by the size of the hiding place, he
made it himself, it corresponds to his size. Now I will ask the
guys, and we’ll figure it out.”
“By the time you contact them, everything will be cordoned off
by the police,” she showed with her head at the drone in a
characteristic coloring, which according to its directories could
not get close to the working area of the military equipment and
acted according to the prescribed order: it began to set up
columns, between which the holographic ribbon was lit
showing cordons, awaiting the arrival of a live police.

I just grinned at it and pointed my finger at her back, where
two squad bots were approaching with a difference of about
seven seconds.
“Why should they be called? They are already coming.”

“I wonder who is in the first to come, yours or mine.” asked
Alona.
“Most likely they are yours. Your signal came earlier. But I
still arrange scolding for my group, for prevention measures.”

In the air the group of drones that flew over us, sixteen points
separated and boomed to the ground, accelerating their fall
with jetpacks. About twenty meters from the surface, they shot
in front of them gravitational pillows, which almost instantly
extinguished their speed, and their combat armor compensated
for the overload. The soldiers immediately scattered across the
territory, occupying a perimeter defense, the center of which
was the intensive care unit. And the commander of the arriving
detachment rushed towards us and, running up to Alona, began
a report. Almost in a few seconds, exactly the same maneuver
was repeated by the second group. Only the commander of the
second group had already come running to report to me.
“Two branches of the third platoon, in full combat, arrived at
the signal of the medical complex.”
“Bison, do not flatter us, you are not on the parade ground,
and there is no danger.”
“Commander, but what about the garbage?” taking off his
helmet, he asked. “First, the fighters from the Witches
Company break down, and then we receive a signal that the
medical emergency complex allegedly accepted you for
treatment. My boys were shocked hearing such information.
Well, if it happened somewhere on a rebellious planet, but on
our Mother Earth…”
“Stop panicking! I found a kid in critical condition, there was
no time to call civilian doctors. Here is the Witch and she
activated a service call and in order for the medical complex
began to treat the boy, I put my chip in and out.”
“What boy?”

“Look here in the box.”
“Holy shit, who tortured him like that?” The Bison said that,
approaching the medical complex.
“Here, have Mr. Lome collect all the data from the medical
complex, then get all the information on it. At the same time
send someone for the police, because I can see a lot of idlers
here who are loitering and do not want to help.”

As a result, after getting the boy’s DNA, within just half an
hour all the information on him was obtained, and a couple of
fighters went to his parents to ask some questions: how did
they allow this? During the interrogation, it turned out that a
child found was from a dysfunctional family, where his father
regularly beat him. Unable to bear such a torture of himself,
two weeks ago, the five-year-old child ran away from home,
and in order not to fall into the hands of the patrolling police
drone, he made a so-called shelter in the park area. But only
one thing this child did not take into account: how will he get
food for himself?
During these two weeks, the boy lived from hand to mouth,
with little or no food and water at all. But he was so afraid of
his father that he preferred to die of hunger than to return back
home. As a result, the court, under my pressure with Alona,
sentenced Andrey’s father to twenty years in prison in a labor
colony on the asteroid belt of the solar system. Feeling
responsible for the found child, Alona took patronage over
him, constantly helped him, watched his mother take good
care of him, and often we took him with us on holiday, where
he quickly became friends with our children. It is not
surprising that when he grew up, he decided to join the
Military Academy, which I already contributed to this…

************************

Tilorn distracted me out from my memories. Somehow I lost
touch with reality … Um … Well, or virtual reality. I regained
consciousness because Tilorn was shaking my shoulder.
“Hey, Volper!”
“OK, OK, I came to myself,” He rubbed my face with his
hands and continued. “What happened?”
“The trophy players are already approaching.”
“Meet them, please, and show them around. By the way, how
is Castra?”
“She is okay, over there in the corner,” he pointed out with his
hand to the right, “she is talking to Irala. She just needs to
come to herself; two serious shocks in a few hours are a little
unsettling.”
“Okay, I will not bother her for now.”

Nodding his head, Tilorn went to meet the trophy team. And I
went back to the video file, which was hanging in front of my
eyes. At the bottom of the screen there was a small text and a
line below it for input.
Enter the password:

Taking into account the fact who sent the file, and whose face
was on the screen, I confidently enter Alona’s call sign in the
password field. The video was launched and I saw Andrei,
who almost immediately started speaking very quickly as if
practicing tongue twisters.
“Please do not turn it off, watch the video till the end. I
remember how much you have done for me and I am perfectly

aware of how badly I messed up, but, as a matter of fact, I
simply have no one to turn to with this information,” having
taken a deep breath, he continued in a normal voice. “I hope
you have not turned off this video. First, I want to apologize to
you again. I understand that I will not return her with my
apologies, but in my seventy-plus years I have not met a
person better than she was. Believe me, if I knew that she was
in such bad condition, I would ignore this congressman and
sent that sloop to you, and not to him. But I can’t change
anything anymore, and I can only live out the time left for me
with the knowledge that with my decision at that moment I
almost killed her with my own hands. Unfortunately, then I
preferred the access of our military forces to Chariot-seven
planet, to help their congressman.
Well, essentially it will not change anything, the current
situation promises very big problems, but perhaps I will tell
you consistently” by reflexively rubbing the right side of the
face, which in reality was partially numb, he continued
collecting his thoughts. “The events began to unfold three
years ago, when we were looking for a new server for a virtual
training ground, aimed at training fighters. The old one,
unfortunately, had already a critical mass of errors
accumulated, and the artificial intelligence just burned out,
and, as usual, club-handed programmers ignored that fact.
Then, we went to the company that developed the new game
project Alfarome, using the most advanced technologies,
which in some cases were ahead of any competitors. But when
they tried to go directly to the owner of the company, they
failed completely. We just could not find him. The man on the
documents exists: there are absolutely all documents that
accompany a person’s life, but physically this person has
never existed. The parents turned out to be an elderly couple
who never had children. At school where he allegedly studied,
they didn’t know such a person, and so on and so forth.
At first, some analysts assumed that this alien intelligence
network was able to get into our databases so deeply, but this
version was quickly refuted by cross-checks. Then it began …
How to say it … In general, mysticism. Those analysts who
were approaching certain assumptions died earlier than they

could pass on their work. Why mysticism? Yes, because even
analysts from Group A were dying! And as you know, they
worked on a special base, where they also lived. There, even
the commander-in-chief without control is not allowed
anywhere. So, they were dying there, right in the workplace,
they had only to look for some results. All attempts to
introduce their man in the staff of developers ended in loss of
qualified personnel. Attempts to pressure through the laws
failed miserably, members of parliament abruptly changed
their decisions, and there were a lot of other things.
By that time, the entire control department was in panic, to the
extent that when we tried to take the main office by storm and
capture all the databases, we lost a group of fighters. The most
annoying thing was that they all died almost simultaneously,
as soon as they moved to attack. No fighter reached the
building. Death came for various reasons: heart attacks,
strokes, hidden tumors in the brain. In general, one diagnosis
is as delusional as the other, provided that we monitor the
health of each fighter well. Now you understand why I called
all this mysticism… And now let’s move on to what just put
everyone who had access to information into shock. On the
day of the game’s release, the most ordinary gamers-freaks
came to our management, through which an encrypted
message was transmitted in an extremely rare encoding that
only two people knew.
At the beginning of the message there was an instruction with
the requirement to be sure to register in the game before
decoding the rest. After several hours of discussion, each of
the Enigma group created a character for himself. You could
understand our surprise, when deciphering the message, we
realized that it was sent by our agent, who died six years ago.
There were bits of information there, but local coordinates
turned out to be the most important thing in this message,
where you can find a person who has information about all
these events” he stopped again, apparently picking up words.
“During our first conversation, I wanted to convince you to
help us and prepare a group that can get to that place … to the
minus 7th level. Yes, you heard right! It is a minus seventh
level. It turns out that there are not only sixteen upper levels,

but also the same minus levels exist, which are underground.
They are separated by five levels of sewage and a “zero”
level.
But a few days ago, one of the groups that tried to break
through there and died on the third level, recorded a very
interesting video, which I am sending to you. I was lucky that
the fighter who recorded it was from the old squad and he was
experienced, so he immediately sent the recording to me,
ignoring the official bodies. I don’t know what you will do
after watching this video, but I just have to give it to you,
otherwise I’ll have to forget everything that you have done for
me.”

Then the picture changed and went to the video footage, shot
in the first person of one of the fighters. He seemed to be
crawling, considering that the floor was visible and
occasionally the walls when he stopped to look around. But
something in his movements was wrong, it felt like something
was preventing him from crawling, but the viewing angle did
not allow him to see the reason. Reaching one of the gaps in
the wall, the fighter cautiously looked into it. Making sure that
there was no danger in the street in the nearest zone of
visibility, he began to crawl to the other side of the break, but
almost immediately went back. He took out his binoculars and
looked into it, checking that the video was being recorded
directly from his eyes. An anthropomorphic mutant, covered
with thick silver wool and resembling a classical werewolf,
frozen in the middle of the transformation, stood on one of the
streets stretching into the distance. It was no longer a man, but
not yet a werewolf, but an upright walking wolf-like creature.
It was immediately clear that this was not a monster, but a
sensible mutant, especially since he had an open-type bulletproof vest with a pile of cartridge pouches on it, put directly
on his naked body instead of a vest. He was wearing black
pants and high-top boots. In the hands of this werewolf was

some kind of monstrous firearm with a barrel-mounted drum
and a bell muzzle fifty millimeters. The mutant stood on the
spot and looked around, I suspect, even sniffed. Not finding a
threat, he turned his face toward the nearest alley and barked
something or, maybe, said, I don’t know how his speech
apparatus works there. Then he slowly walked down the street.
From the alley came a small group of people who were
wrapped in various rags up to the very eyes. Judging by the
figure, the girl in a hooded cloak hiding her face closed the
procession.
They managed to walk fifty meters away, when at the end of
the street a dozen straight- walking lizards jumped out. The
werewolf, having exchanged a few words with the girl in a
raincoat, began to push the others and take them away, but the
girl remained in place, pulling out two blades of thirty
centimeters from the floor of the raincoat. Short flashes of
lightning began to fly out from under the hood. Exactly the
same lightning bolts ran along the blades, forming on them a
bizarre ligature, which is in constant motion, but without
losing its structure. The fighter who observed through
binoculars wanted to trace where the main group had retired,
but stopped the movement of the binoculars, returning to the
girl in the center of the view. He was very interested in the
way the girl worked with blades. The spectacle was
fascinating, but not this attracted his attention.
Almost in every movement, the technique of working with
melee weapons, which is taught in the reconnaissance-landing
corps, was quite noticeable. Therefore, the fighter, and I were
watching as she, one by one, killed lizards and those could do
almost nothing to her. Only the last managed to blow off her
hood with the front paw. The girl, having finished the last
scaly opponent and looking around, turned around to check
her group and, having made sure that everything was all right,
put on a hood and moved to her group. But the fighter froze. In
the meantime, everything inside me just pulled into a tight
spring, and my heart squeezed in a vice, when I saw the face
of this girl.

“The Witch!” With respectful trembling in his voice, the
fighter whispered on video.
“Alona!” I whispered almost simultaneously, in disbelief.
The only thought that was in my head after what I had seen
was: WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING HERE?

CHAPTER EIGHT: OUR RETURN TO THE OUTPOST
A lot of assumptions swarmed in my head, ranging from more
or less real ones, ending up with quite delusional, to the point
that I almost wanted to rush straight to the third level to
confirm or deny the information received, but I stopped myself
in time. You should not hurry; otherwise I can break so much,
which then I will not understand. To begin with, I re-watched a
number of times that recording, which was made on the third
level, analyzing every movement of the girl in the smallest
detail on the video.
There was no doubt left, it really WAS Alona, well, or maybe
an ingenious copy that they could recreate preserving even the
smallest details of her manner of movement and the gestures
characteristic of her movements. The only option to find out
whether she is real or not is to meet her in person. Only this is
still an impossible task, at least for now. So I will not be in
hurry and should be well prepared before going there. The
question of whether it was worth going there even was
irrelevant; this is now my main goal. It remains only to decide
how best to prepare for this, not only to get there, but also to
have the strength to fully understand all this.
Glancing around the room in which I was, I almost started to
bang my head against the wall. I still have Tilorn and the
group is practically learning the ropes, I must first deal with
them and only then go to solve personal problems. Well, the
third issue is how to deal with the problem that Andrei was
talking about. Hmm … it seems that my dream to live quietly
in my last years and just having fun does not wait for me.
Okay, it’s time to get out of here and return to the base …
Fuck, there I also have to deal with the evil Centurions. Well,
fuck them all and kick in the ass to give the correct trajectory
and speed. One of the Greatest Minds said: “The best defense
is an attack,” – so it’ll be my motto in order not to make
excuses.

“Tilorn, Castra. We are returning to the base!” I gave the
order to my team, rising from the floor. “We have just a load
of work that must be done!”
“What happened?”
“So, one piece of the information is not very clear, they deleted
it, but this will be discussed at the base … Although if you
figure it out, there will already be a lot of everything at the
base that we need to talk about. Tilorn, can you negotiate with
the trophy drivers? Plus I’m telling you that we are taking the
robot. God forbid something happens to it, I’ll write a report
to Carefire.”

Nodding, he set off to negotiate. In twenty minutes we were
already sitting on the armor of one of the TBM (Tactical
Combat Machine), which was supposed to accompany the first
convoy with the loot collected in the laboratory. We reached
the outpost without any incidents, with the exception of
several small groups of mutants who were quickly driven
away by two large-caliber machine guns mounted on the
TBM. But at the gate we were met by a delegation of people,
consisting of fighters of the Centurion. Jumping off the armor
that had braked in front of the gate, he gave his command to
move to the base.
“What are you up to?” Castra could not stand it.
“I’m going to chat with our “non-friends.”
“We are with you!” said Castra and was also going to head for,
but I stopped her.
“No, they won’t do anything to me now, I don’t have a red
level, but here there is a huge pile of outpost guards. If they
come up to me, they will immediately be put down from the
towers.”
“He is right,” Tilorn supported me, putting his hand on her
shoulder, preventing her from going down. Then he added in a

whisper. “Do not forget, we still have our secret passenger
with us!”

Castra froze and stopped trying to go down, and nodded her
head, agreeing with this fact, and then sat herself better on the
armor, waiting for the gateway to open to let the equipment
through. I went to a group of fighters, who were standing
slightly away from the gate, and most of whom wore the signs
of the Centurion clan. They noticed me, it seems, even when
we were just approaching, so now in the clan ranks there was
an active discussion, which could not be reassured even by
their commanders. Most of them had thirst for my blood and
absolutely did not understand why they had not yet been given
the command to attack. And my quiet approach only warmed
up the most bloodthirsty ones.
“What the fuck? He is alone…”
“Isn’t he frightened at all? Not in the least…?”
“***** is he that *****? Still coming, mother fucker, give me
a good gun!”
“Everybody stand still! You want to be red, assholes?” Oh, it
seems that already one of the commanders is trying to restore
order.
“Yes, what a fig, he himself must be red, so many people were
killed.”
“Open your eyes: his level is white.”
…
…
…

I had already stopped three meters from this crowd and just
stood and listened to this raging stream of voices, trying to
identify the commander of this gathering. I did not find a
familiar person, and in this blah-blah-blah, which was gaining
momentum more and more, it was not possible to make out
who the commander was. Here, to the right, a few meters
away from me, a pebble suddenly rolled, which until then had
quietly been pretending to be an element of garbage, in
abundance wallowing almost everywhere.
“Let’s talk? Or did you come to try and kill me?”
“Again,” said Siniami, who had emerged from the invisible
mode. “How do you do that?”
“This time, the little stone that you hooked up led you,” I did
not hide the reason for its discovery. “And it’s already much
better, I’m looking, and the equipment is more properly picked
up in order to make less noise … So, let’s talk about anything?
Look, and then your rank and file will soon reach the boiling
point. Of course, they will kill me, but how will you deal with
the local administration after the lawlessness within the
walls?”
“Do not worry about them, now they will do their business.
I’m more interested in why you didn’t get the red level?”
“Yes, I just thought that red does not suit me and refused such
a tempting offer that the Server made to me.”
“REFUSED?” Her eyes turned into two round balls. “How
did you refuse? Did you have an offer to get a red level or not?
How come…?”

A number of questions from her poured simply like a shower,
she was so carried away that she even began to have
speculations with what it could be connected with. In the
meantime, I watched the crowd of fighters. Even I couldn’t
call them a detachment - a gathering of players in which
everyone acts according to his preferences and desires. Over

all this background, only a small group of fifteen people stood
out, who, it seems, were part of this movement, created in the
crowd, but at the same time they seemed competent,
constantly controlling any movement of mine. I chuckled
seeing this.
“Are you kidding me?” Siniami returned to the reality, seeing
my smirk.
“And why, damn it, do I have to tell you why I did not get the
red? Do you represent the value for me to disclose this
information?”
“Do you have any idea how much we paid for your trick?”
She went on to an aggressive conversation. “Yes, for the
money we can hold you and your wards at the base until you
pay every penny back.”
“OK, I have one interesting video, with the Centurion platoon
being killed by five kids, and it will quickly be uploaded to
many forums. How many views do you think it will gain?”
“And aren’t you afraid that the Wolfs and I, who have a sharp
tooth and want to bite you for the trick with Martha, will
simply nullify you?” She gritted her teeth. “Do you want war
with the two most powerful clans in this territory?”
“You can attack me and invite all the others! I just don’t give a
fuck about your opinion!” turning around, I headed for the
gate. But, having walked a couple of steps, I came back. “By
the way, I forgot to tell you about two points. Firstly, I warned
you, but you did not listen to me, therefore you are to blame.
Secondly, compare the fighting qualities of my group before I
started training them and afterwards, and then think about it:
what will happen if I start to form my clan and prepare
everyone in it at the same level? How long will you survive?”

Only after saying this, I finally left them, with Siniami deep in
thought. I understand that her decision is not the key one
within the whole clan, but the fact that it can influence the

choice of the future policy of the clan leader is not even in
doubt. Why would I talk to her then? And now I need to
devote time to my group and decide what to do with them:
either I would give some practical advice and send them to
fight by themselves, or start intensive preparation for a hell of
a raid. For myself, I have already found a way out, although it
will cause a lot of other problems to me, but at least it will
allow me to break to that level and solve this puzzle.
Already almost reaching our base, I turned the other way. My
guys will wait a little bit, especially since Quartz and Sargos
have not recovered yet. But the issue needs to be resolved with
Carefire, and the sooner, the better, because I can’t even
imagine how much he would charge me for the information
and the license. Oddly enough, he was on the spot and
completely unoccupied. Going in and saying hello, I threw the
backpack from my back and, placing it near the chair, sat
down opposite Carefire, with my elbows on the table, and
stared at him.
“What?”
“I’m waiting,” I was open to discussion.
“What?” He did not understand.
“While you are here, I have a question, to what extent am I in
debt for you?”
“Ah, that’s what you want,” rising from the table, he began to
pace around his office. “I don’t know if I’m pestering you or
not, but …” he made a pause, lifting his index finger upwards.
“Let’s not drag the time!” Everything was boiling inside of me
in anticipation of how I would have to pay back.
“But …” he repeated. “Anyway, I do not know.”
“Not understandable!” I had an attack of cognitive
dissonance.
“What don’t you understand? I do not know yet how you can
pay back.”

“Stop it!” I put forward an open right palm in a gesture calling
for a stop. “You want to say that you gave me valuable
information, forced me to sign an agreement, and that’s all just to be able to demand a return service sometime in the
future?”
“Well, yes,” agreed Carefire.
“Are you nuts?”
“No, I just managed to understand you quite well.”
“Ah …” I opened my mouth, but almost immediately closed it
back, realizing that, indeed, if Carefire asked for a service in
return, I would not refuse. “Shitty!”
“Others wouldn’t be in my position,” He also laughed.
“Phooey on you!!” Standing and picking up the backpack, I
added. “Should there be anything interesting, write to me!”

Coming out of the office under the laughter of the
commandant, I smiled myself. I am glad that here I earned a
certain credit of trust; this will greatly facilitate my life in this
outpost. And if something out of the ordinary happens,
Carefire will listen to me first, before taking any serious
measures. And in some situations it is very much worth it.
This time, having already reached our base, I found Castra,
who was on duty near the replication capsule. The girl is
worried, but it is understandable, such a bunch of shocks in a
day does not pass without a trace. The main thing is now to
make sure that it does not result in some kind of phobia.
“How long left?”
“Almost six hours left,” she answered, not taking her eyes off
the capsule.
“You should sleep.”
“No, I don’t want to.”

“It’s your business,” I shook my head. “Tell me where Irala
is.”
“With Tilorn. They are in the lounge.”

Having received the information I needed, I quietly went out,
leaving Castra on duty near the capsules. Going into the
lounge room, I discovered Tilorn talking to himself. Well, at
least from the outside it looked that way. I understand that he
communicates with Irala, who now cannot visualize herself, so
she can only talk to those who have her physical carrier in
their hands, connected directly to the neural interface.
“Tilorn, I suspected that you were suffering from
schizophrenia, but I didn’t think that it was so harsh,” I said to
our doctor.
“I’m actually talking to Irala.”
“Have you even thought for a moment how it looks from the
outside?”
“Um … Well …” he hesitated, and then gave out with sadness
in his voice. “Progressive schizophrenia with auditory
hallucinations…”
“That’s it, so understand your seat and go to the main techie,
it’s time to finish the little body for Irala. By the way, does she
hear me?”
“Yes, so far through me, but he hears,” Tilorn confirmed.
“Then, Irala, I ask you very much, while we are at the
technician, in no way show up yourself. Let him think that you
are a regular control processor.”
“She agrees.”
“Then what are we worth?”

It may not be good on my part, to expose the guys this way,
but I am not going to take the wearer’s carrier in my hands.
The fact that I am paranoid does not mean that they do not
follow me. While we were going to Leksha, I was surprised by
our doc. He seemed to be different. Tilorn shone straight as a
battled war-head of a combat aircraft carrier and avidly was
saying how lucky we were, from his point of view, that we
could help Irala.
“… Do you understand? In this laboratory, they practically
passed along the line between science and legislative bans of
the government….” honestly, I tried very hard to understand
what he was talking about, but because of the mass of specific
terms, I could not understand half of it. “… If we take into
account the genetic model of Mozerkhayner, with amendments
to the calculations of Edler Kirilov, then the genetic element
should not have taken root, but here an additional solution
was applied in the form of a Korsayev equation, which…”

Of course, I knew that Tilorn was a nerd, but I couldn’t have
thought so much. Well, somehow it did not fit with his
complexion and manner of conversation. The only thing that
remained for me throughout the journey was simply to nod my
head at the right moments. Today I learnt a lot about him from
a completely different angle. I used to consider him a field
doctor, or, a young doctor, who decided to devote himself to
helping patients in poor condition, but now I understand how
deeply I was mistaken. It turns out he is still the psycho of
science, obsessed with genetics. The worst thing was that we
just walked for about twenty minutes. At first, Leksha was not
found in the workplace, then a lot of time was spent to find out
where he was, and so, when we came to the door of the
kingdom of Leksha, I stopped and began to carefully examine
Tilorn. In a few moments, having caught a short pause in his
monologue, he inquired:

“Can I hit you?”
“Not understood. For what?”
“But together we ain’t understand nothing.”
“Sorry, I got carried away,” he admitted after a short pause. “I
got used lately to you understanding a wide range of issues, so
I began to tell you some specific information.”
“OK, I almost understood everything.”
“Seriously?” The doctor asked incredulously.
“Yes!” I answered confidently. “Look, you see, even the left
eye began to twitch from my understanding.”
“Yes, you go …” he laughed.
“Nah … I have already arrived, and so have you,” after which
I banged on the door where we stood. “Leksha, open, Volper
came!”

Hmm … it’s a phrase that I heard of somewhere but it just
seems something wrong in it. Well, okay, since I cannot
remember, then it was not so important. Turning my back to
the door, I hit a couple of times with my feet, repeating the
phrase. The owner of the long-suffering door appeared only
after the third call for action to open the door. The sight of
Leksha caused only sympathy: disheveled hair, sleepy face
and red eyes from lack of sleep. Seeing me, he immediately
began to resent.
“That’s how he knew, Volper would come here, start breaking
the door, knocking with his feet. He would start shouting:
“Leksha, why didn’t you open? Leksha, where is my order? ”He doesn’t have the brains to bring in the last component and,
without it, I cannot finish the order. When you bring it, then
we’ll talk.”

Having said that, he tried to slam the door in front of me, but
my shoe, inserted into the door, did not let him do it. Tilorn,
meanwhile, noticing my short movement of the head, pulled
out the information carrier of Irala from under the shoulder
plate and put it under Leksha’s nose. He several times looked
from me to the carrier and back, sighed heavily, opened the
doors and stepped to the side, letting us into his dwelling.
When I entered the twilight of the room, I almost immediately
stumbled over some kind of tools lying on the floor. Usually I
am attentive enough when I enter an unfamiliar room, but then
my eyes just didn’t notice it. Leksha somehow managed to
arrange a whole engineering workshop in a small room:
machines, racks with different tools and parts, pieces of wire,
some garbage hanging from the ceiling, vaguely resembling a
mixture of a soldering iron and a plasma cutter - and all this
created chaos of metal and plastic clutter.
Even on a small bed, in the corner of the room, some keys,
screwdrivers, and parts of the microcircuits were scattered. It
all showed through the many shadows of the twilight reigning
in the room. But this twilight was caused not by poor lighting,
but by excessive accumulation of technical junk, because a
little deeper, near a long metal table, resembling a surgical
one, there were six powerful searchlights, not leaving even a
hint of shadow from the mechanical body on the table. Behind
me, Tilorn cursed, kicking his knee into one of the pillars on
which the various-sized racks rested.
“I have argued with Sargos that he has a mess, and it turns
out that there is another example of cleanliness and order,” he
grumbled behind me. And when we got to the lit space, and I
had the opportunity to step aside, freeing the review, he could
not resist. “***** !!! Is that what I think about?”
“I don’t know what you think, but this is Volper’s order,”
Leksha answered him. “A complete copy of a human girl.
Bone frame made of high-alloy steel, synthetic muscles. Again,
I do not understand why it was to make a complete copy of the
human? Many of them are for an anthropomorphic droid, so

they are not technically necessary. At the same time, we had to
think a lot, embedding the whole range of tech surprises. A
couple of times I even had to make changes to the original
drawing, otherwise everything that was requested would not
fit. Most of all, I went to great lengths when using artificial
leather, or rather the appropriate wiring of all contacts
connected to it. By the way, I still cannot understand the
functional purpose of this pile of sensors under the skin. In
general, I still think that it was five times cheaper to make a
combat anthropomorphic droid that would be ten times better
in combat performance…”

Leksha, having told us all of this, squeezed past us and began
to walk around the table, pointing with his hands at certain
parts that he considered important. But I stood with Tilorn
unable to say a word. Before us lay the naked body of a young
girl, which we had previously seen as a hologram. The future
body of Irala was so well done that it did not let go of the
feeling that she was an ordinary living person. The entire
impression was spoiled only by the back half of the head,
which was revealed in the manner of petals and showed a view
of the electronic insides of the skull, where a whole bunch of
wires stuck in anticipation of connecting to the processor.
“… Well, I, of course, understand that you, Volper, perhaps,
has sexual deviations in your character, this, of course, is not
my business, but listen to an experienced man. Droids in bed
are just not good! Even brothels have long since got rid of
them. Although I doubt that you are a droidophile, these
assholes do not usually embed so much stuff for self-defense
inside the droid.”
“And if I punch you in the face?” I came to myself after such a
statement. And Tilorn was trying to keep the laughter that was
tearing from him.
“Why on earth in my face? I have spent a lot of time thinking
and trying to understand why you need such a droid. You look

at it from one side, it’s quite a combat droid, well, and slightly
specific, but you never know what tasks you will set for this
piece of iron? But on the other hand, there are a lot of
moments where I cannot understand your logic thinking. Here,
for example, this skin with sensors, well, why the hell is it on
your droid? It is easily damaged, rather expensive in
restoration; there is practically no functional benefit. I’m just
at a loss!” He was really at a loss what to say and shook his
head. “Okay, give me your processor, we’ll take
measurements.”

Tilorn, unbent, wiping out the tread of tears and waiting for
my affirmative nod, gave the carrier with Irala. Leksha, having
carefully examined him, stated.
“It’s quite an old model, but the connectors are quite standard.
Rejoice, the dimensions are quite small, and I have an adapter
in stock. Fifteen minutes to install the supporting frame, well,
and about ten minutes to connect, and you can get your
droid.”
“You said it would take a day.”
“Well, I took time with a reserve, but I did not know what you
would bring me. Well, if you strongly insist, then I can work
for a day.”
“No! Do it as fast as possible.”
“Well then, stay right there in the corner, and do not interfere
with my work,” he pointed out to us to a place where, in his
opinion, we will not disturb him.

We were standing for half an hour, shifting from foot to foot,
carefully watching the actions of Leksha. And finally, the
moment came when he finished his work and closed the back
of its head so that even the joints could not be seen. Then he

conjured a little near the left ear, turning around, came up to
me and held out a small device.
“This is what you asked for.”

Taking the device and hiding it in my backpack, I nodded to
Leksha, showing that I understood everything. This was my
additional insurance, which in a difficult situation could save
me from a host of problems.
“Can we take it?”
“Yes, it will start in a couple of minutes, and you can go
together. Over here I have an old jumpsuit, which you can put
on a droid, so that it won’t walk down the street naked. And I
am going to bed, you will leave - slam the door harder, there
the lock jams, not always auto-close works.”

Yawning, he went to the corner where he had a bed. And we
were left to wait for the launch of Irala. Three minutes passed
before she opened her eyes. After lying down for a while, she
sat down, dangling her legs off the table, and looked around. It
felt like she was confused. She twisted her head, looking
around. Stopping her gaze on her hands, carefully examined
her palm, and then held it across the table surface, startled, she
moved her hand and patted her face.
“How are you?” I asked the question, which, most likely,
tormented Tilorn.

The sound of a voice made her shudder again and pay
attention to us.
“Volper, this … this … is just great! You understand? I can feel
it! Maybe not like people, but I have a feeling. Thank you!”

I wanted to say something to her and to ask her to get dressed
so that we could quickly get back to our place, and a lot more,
but my view was covered by a huge red sign.
Attention! Global Message! The first representative of
Androids, a synthetic intelligent organism, returned to
Alfarome. Will this new AI join one of the existing parties, or
will it become a separate party to the conflict? It all depends
on you!

From the corner where Leksha went to rest, a swearing phrase
came. Only the end of the sentence was audible.
“… So Android, you say, well, thank you for having given me
at least five levels, increasing to seventy-sixth.”

CHAPTER NINE: THE FARTHER WE GO, THE MORE
PROBLEMS WE HAVE
Leksha was sitting across the table from us and nervously was
twirling an electronic caliper in his hands, examining Irala as
if it was not he who had created the body and saw it for the
first time. Irala, meanwhile, was trying to figure out how to
manage her new body under the protection of Tilorn, who
almost all the time was between her and Leksha. And I
carefully watched the technician, trying to understand the
reason for his nervousness. At one point, he stopped the
rotational movements and squeezed the device in his hands,
looked at me.
“Do you even know what you’ve done? And I did it together
with you,” he asked in an ingratiating voice.
“Not really,” well, I have no idea, which is what made me feel
so awkward.
“Hmm …” leaning back in his chair, he once again looked at
us. “Well, then I can tell you: we are all fucked up.”
“Yes, we, in my opinion, have screwed up lately,” Tilorn
replied sarcastically.
“I doubt you had such big problems,” Tilorn just grunted in
reply. And I had a skeptical smile. Leksha, meanwhile, did not
pay attention to our skepticism, and he continued. “Not only
that, different corporations and powerful people will hunt for
you if they find out that the android is in your hands, and the
government will not stand aside. After all, after the uprising of
the androids, none of them remained, and the attempts
themselves to recreate them fell under a government ban. That
is why, it is extremely important to keep it a secret that your…
um … girl … in fact, is an android.”
“In fact, her name is Irala … By the way, Irala, can you still
dress at least?” I pointed my finger at the clothes offered
earlier by Leksha. Tilorn already feels ill at ease, trying almost
constantly to look in the opposite direction, and after myself, I

again began to notice a hormonal imbalance. Of course, it’s all
clear, but Irala has always been naked, and considering that
she was studying her new body and its possibilities, it was
often bent in extremely sexy poses. There was not even a hint
of vulgar thoughts in my head, but nobody has canceled the
banal physiology with its reactions of the organism.
“What for?” The question of Irala made everyone puzzled.
“Well … How can I explain to you …” Tilorn began to choose
the right words. “There are certain moments in the
relationship between people of different sexes … Well, uh …
Between girls and men … And you, kind of like a girl …”
Towards the end, Tilorn completely stopped. It’s strange. I just
did not expect this.
“So? Something like this was in my archive …” Irala stared
into the void, apparently looking up in her archive. “So, so …
Yeah, here it is … Hmm … Interesting … Wow, even so …!
Wow, is that possible?! Interesting … Um … What?”

Irala, having sharply concentrated her gaze on us and, running
over our faces, ran to the clothes and managed to fall down
twice. Reaching the jumpsuit, she quickly began to put it on,
while hissing at us.
“Could not you warn me immediately?” And seeing that we
continue to watch her, she raised her voice. “What are you
staring at? Well, turn away!”

The three of us, immediately turned in the opposite direction,
with our backs to Irala. Judging by Leksha’s pent-up grunting,
he is now choking with laughter, which seems to be logical,
because he was anticipating it. But I was tormented by only
one question: what did she read there in her archive that she
had reacted so fast? I hope the system administrator did not

keep a couple of terabytes of perverted porn there. And as if
the embarrassment would not work if she perceives any
distortions for the standard of mutual relations. From such an
assumption, I already shuddered. It will be necessary to
urgently ask Castra to come to grips with Irala, especially
focusing on the female point of view. While Irala was trying to
cope with clothes, I decided to clarify a couple of points with
Leksha.
“Leksha, I can’t understand a couple of things. You mentioned
the android uprising, but what actually happened then?”
“I don’t know for sure,” having stopped laughing, he began to
speak. – “It all happened a long time ago, the information that
got to me. The conflict with the androids occurred even before
the split of the mutants and people, but already much later
than the time when the Server was granted all the rights to
control and manage…”
“So…” Tilorn interrupted me. “You want to say that the
Server did not always manage everything here?”
“Of course, it didn’t! The server is a creation of human beings,
made to facilitate our lives. How its name was right there …
Now, for a second, I will remember the correct wording!”
Leksha stopped for a couple of seconds, apparently
remembering. “An artificial, highly intelligent server cluster
for collecting, storing and processing data to optimize and
improve the needs of residents with the functionality of
monitoring and administering living conditions of Alfarome,”
having added this speech, after a second thought, he added. “It
seems that somewhere like this, I do not presume to guarantee
the correctness of the quotation, but I think you understand.
Well, for simplicity, we all call it simply the Server. But we are
a little distracted from the main issue …”

Irala, who had already put on her jumpsuit, came to us and sat
down beside me and, putting her finger to her lips, asking for

silence, resting her chin on her exposed palms, began to listen
carefully to Leksha. It seems that she is also very interested to
know the history of her predecessors. Turning around in search
of Tilorn, I noticed him standing right behind our backs and
also listening to the voice of the technician.
“… I do not know what exactly caused the conflict. Perhaps
someone did not like the fact that the Server does not have
control over the androids. Or maybe just being envious,
because in many areas of work they gradually replaced living
people due to the fact that they worked much more efficiently
and better, and in most cases the speed of information
processing was higher than that of an ordinary person. As a
result, androids gradually began to oppress legislation in
almost all spheres of life: starting from prohibitions to appear
in certain places, ending with additional taxes for enterprises
that use android labor. As a result, at one point, they rebelled.
And a massacre began between the synthetic and the living.
Here the most ordinary of people for the most part could
recover in replication capsules, and the androids had no such
opportunity. Naturally, they tried to save their information
carrier, because the body can be restored or created anew,
having a corresponding technical base. But if the processor, on
which there was the consciousness of the android, was
damaged, then it was for it as death. In this case, the
cultivation of a full-fledged consciousness for an android took
dozens of years. Moreover, we can remember only three
percent of attempts to grow it brought positive results. As a
result, the androids were destroyed completely, as well as all
the information on the proper creation of a full-fledged
artificial consciousness. And without this data, the chance of
success falls to one-thousandth of a percent at all,” he sighed
heavily.
“You said that the Server does not have power over them,” I
clarified the moment that interested me. “Why?”
“Because they have no piconite colonies… Accordingly, there
is no neural interface. More precisely, they have some kind of
interface, but their own, not connected to the Server network.”

Irala’s silent nod confirmed his information. And this opened
up a completely new facet to the story told by Leksha. After
all, judging by the information that I managed to collect during
this time, almost everyone has a neural interface, the only
exception is the monsters that have flooded the lower levels.
But then how did the Server find out that a new android
appeared? This question was asked to Leksha.
“Based on information from our neural interfaces.”
“But how?”
“Directly. From my neural interface, it received complete
information about the body, because I collected it, I saw every
detail, the drawings that I did on my own. By the way, the
Server, as the creator of the android body, opened for me a
whole layer of information on the production of bodies for
them, their modernization, updating. But this seems to be even
less than the percentage of data it has. So … What am I talking
about?.. Yes! From your neural interfaces, it received
information that there is an artificial consciousness in the
information carrier. As I understand, you communicated with
her and understood perfectly well that this is not a usual
control processor? So we practically gave all the information
to the Server ourselves.”
“*****!”I expressed my indignation. “It is, it turns out, a
continuous global control of any of our actions.”
“Of course! Therefore, no one has control over the Server. It
has too much information about each user of the neural
interface, to the point that every action or word from the
moment of birth to the moment of final incarnation is written
in seconds.”

Well … The more I go into this virtual world, the more I
become confused by what’s going on here. While there is an
opportunity, I need to find out more. God knows when I will
have another chance to talk in a relaxed atmosphere, but
Leksha was ahead of me with a question.
“Damn, will it take your girl a long time to get dressed? And
you know, somehow it is not comfortable to talk with the
wardrobe.”
“Well, I am dressed now and I’m sitting here, listening to you.
I just didn’t want to interrupt.”

Turning around and making sure that Irala was really already
dressed a long time ago, he got up and walked around her,
looking from all sides, shaking her head.
“I should have known that I was creating a body for the
android, then I would have done something differently …
Although if I had known about it straight away, I would never
have agreed to take on this work.”
“Why so?” Ahead of me came with a question Tilorn.
“Because the day of the week ends in “y”! If they find out that
it was I who created the android, then they either jail me until
they get all the available information, or they kill me without
the right to replicate if I fall into the hands of the officials, and
then… oh my,” with a shrug, he added. “And now there is no
choice, I stuck to the fullest. Even the achievement for it was
given. And it’s interesting, damn; this is already a really new
level of technical work. Now, looking at it from the height of
the new information that has opened to me, I almost cannot
cry. I created practically a masterpiece defying the limit of my
abilities, but it turned out that I made a fake of a full-fledged
android.”
“What?” roared Irala. “I AM A PRIMITIVE FAKE?”

“Calm down!” He put his hands in front of Leksha, fencing
them off from Irala. “I still could not have done it better, I lack
the skills. Even now, having much more information, I just
physically cannot do it. Firstly, you need to understand all
these schemes, and then improve your skills, and after that we
will improve your body.”
“Do you promise me?” clarified Irala, calming down a bit.
“Yes … Um … Well, if I am paid for materials and work.” He
clarified, squinting at me. I could only nod my head as a reply.
“Volper,” after seeing our glances, she started speaking. “I
would like to talk to you tête-à-tête,” she said, being a little
embarrassed. Having heard her say this, I nodded.

Well, I feel it that in the near future I will have to talk a lot. So
one more conversation will not harm – what’s the difference? I
wanted to ask Leksha another question, but I was distracted this time the by the blinking envelope of the incoming letter.
Sender: Alexander Carefire
Text of the letter:
Please tell me that you have nothing to do with the latest
global alert because I feel it with my guts that we are
already awaiting a huge pile of problems. And recently
they are caused only by one person named Volper.
Therefore, please tell me honestly that you have nothing to
do with it, so that I can finally calm down.

I immediately remembered how my ancestors would react in
such a situation – they would say “we are fucked up”, in
another way it is not possible to express my feelings now.
Something needs to be answered to Carefire, and I don’t know
what to say. If I tell the truth, it is not known how he will react

to this, and if you lie and the truth comes out, then the longterm relationship with the commandant will end. Okay, while
I’m pondering what to answer, I will need to clarify a question
that had tormented me a long time, which I paid attention to on
the first day in Alfarome, but until today either didn’t ask
anyone to have it clarified or just forgot to do so.
“Leksha, you mentioned the phrase “official government”.
And is there an unofficial government, then?”
“Um …” my question obviously caught him off guard, but,
quickly collecting his thoughts, he began to explain. “In
addition to the official government, which in fact only has
legislative control in its hands, there are many other different
governments, which at first sight do not exist, but in fact have
power far more than the official one. Of the most powerful,
this is the Mutant Government, which controls the Psionics.
Then there is the corporate government, which has most of the
enterprises. Then there is the criminal government to which
most criminal elements are subordinate. There is also a kind of
resistance, which also pursues its goals and it has many
people at different levels of the city. Well, these are the ones
that are heard the most, not counting all sectarians,
communities and other forms of associations. The political
structure of Alfarome is very complex and multifaceted. Even
experienced diplomats who have devoted their whole lives to
these issues do not have full information.”
“Ok, then the last question, and we are going to leave. What
can you tell me about Carefire and Sanych?”
“Well …” he scratched his chin, “Carefire is an honest man,
well-known personality among the SVF fighters, and the
majority respects him very much. And he repeatedly showed
that he does not abandon his guys. In general, I can’t say
anything bad about him. Actually, I myself came here just
because of the fact that he commands here. And as for Sanych,
I can’t definitely say anything, a very mysterious person. It
seems, on the one hand, a cool old man with his rats in the
attic and most people perceive him as a beloved grandfather
with his quirks. But sometimes you see it in his gaze so that

you have got goose bumps. In general, I cannot say anything
about it.”
“OK. We are leaving. As I understand, you are not going to
report anywhere about Irala?”
“Am I an idiot? I’ll be the first to suffer.”
“Then we will come later and see if you can improve her, if
you don’t mind.”
“Of course, you will come only to me! Yes, and for me it is an
interesting experience,” he smiled in response.
“Thank you,” and, already addressing the others, I added.
“People, we have to move to the base.”

Saying goodbye to Leksha, we left his residence and moved
straight to our base; we had to take Ira there as soon as
possible. It is desirable that at the same time especially curious
personalities would not pay attention to us. Therefore, I
walked ahead, a couple of meters ahead, and already Tilorn
and Irala followed me. Quickly reaching the base, I instructed
Tilorn to take Ira to Castra so that she would be engaged in
putting Irala into the picture of events. Not only will our
saboteur be a little distracted, it will also be useful for Irala to
talk with the only girl in our team. Maybe, she will adopt the
model of behavior of real girls and there will be fewer
situations where she may be suspected of something. Finally, I
exchanged a couple of words with Irala and, making sure that
she understood me, I sent a letter to Carefire.
Recipient: Alexander Carefire
Text of the letter:
I’m coming to you!

Well, what else could I write? To be honest, I’m still not sure
whether I am doing the right thing. But if my suspicions are
correct, then there is every chance that Carefire will cover us.
In the meantime, just starting a move toward the
administrative building, I received a new letter.
Sender: Alexander Carefire
Text of the letter:
I wish I were wrong. Waiting for you!

What a big letter I have just sent! However, it is still
encouraging. He did not send the unit to capture my beloved
girl, I haven’t yet reached the red level, and, I have not yet
been kicked out of the outpost. So everything is alright for
now. The fighters at the entrance to the building blocked the
passage and did not allow several people inside, which,
judging by the phrase, were players, but I was immediately let
in, which caused a lot of indignation. It was especially
pleasant to observe the face of one of the fighters of
Centurion, expressing an extreme degree of surprise, or, if to
put it in simple words, he was shocked. All this time I was
moving with a calm, leisurely step, and with almost every step,
the puzzle in my head acquired integrity and was quite intense.
So, forget any worries!
There is already the door to the commandant’s office and now
everything will be decided, the picture in my head lacked a
few pieces, but they were already uncritical. Going inside, I
noticed that apart from me and Carefire, Sanych was also in
the office, the grandfather is not as simple as he was trying to
pretend to be. When Alex saw me, he nodded at the chair,
inviting me to take a sit, and he went to the arms stand, where,
as I already knew, there was a secret mechanism for launching
an additional cabinet protection. When the colors flashed, like
last time, and the colors ran through the walls, he turned
around and, looking at me, sighed heavily. And then he began

to shout at me using swear words that, despite my rather big
military past, I was able to find a couple of new interesting
words. Five minutes later, exhausted and all red from tension,
the commandant stood and gasped for air. I did not wait for a
new call, but, turning to Sanych, I asked:
“Why didn’t you give him a sedative? And then inadvertently
your protégé will be broken down.”

Carefire was really tense, and he immediately lost redness
from his face and shortness of breath. Sanych, on the contrary,
reacted calmly, simply with a gesture to Alexander of stopping
him to say something. The old man sat and carefully looked at
me in complete silence, only the background rumble of a
working barrier slightly disturbed the silence. In response, I
looked at Sanych. Now he no longer looked like that old man
who was sitting not far from me a few minutes ago. No, he has
not changed his facial features, and the visual age remains the
same. But the look, posture and facial expression have
changed dramatically. Before me was no longer an old man
living out his life, but an experienced predator who, by his
infirmity, only lured the victim. Opening the letter from Tilorn,
I grunted. Now the puzzle has been solved.
“So is it so obvious?”
“No, on the contrary, it’s a great conspiracy.”
“Then where did we fuck up?” Sanych asked me.
“It’s just that the issue of the grey cardinals is too jaded: when
they put one on display, and in fact everything is ruled by a
completely different person, most often from the inner close
circle.”

Sanych’s face relaxed a bit and his eyes narrowed a bit, his
look was not evil, but sly. This happens when a person wants
to smile, but restrains themselves. It means that I was right in
my conclusions - Sanych is far from an ordinary training
grounds manager.
“The fact that you have learned who really controls everything
here does not change anything. We still wonder how you are
involved in the case of the android’s return.”
“Maybe let’s stop these games? The only thing that I did not
understand yet is why you need me. I came only to solve this
issue.”
“I don’t understand what you mean …” Sanych began, but I
interrupted him.
“Well, you understand everything perfectly. That’s enough of
me to be deceived. Yes, I agree, you did not expect an android
return, but you were ready for this. After all, Leksha gave you
a full report in the very first minutes.”
“From where?” Carefire was so curious that he asked the
question himself.
“Where on earth you could get it, damn it. The nervousness,
which he showed by twisting one of the tools in his hands, was
hard not to notice. And then suddenly - bang and he abruptly
calmed down. That’s just literally a couple of seconds before
he calmed down, his eyes began to run from left to right, and
you know for whom is this movement of the eyes
characteristic? For the person who reads something. So he,
having received valuable instructions from above, calmed
down - once the bosses are in the know and give commands to
do something, then everything is fine. We begin to stuff the
stories of the stupid mercenary according to the list, which the
bosses approved.”
“Aren’t you afraid that we will just destroy your Irala?”
Sanych again showed his bestial essence on his face.
“Using this?” I pulled out of the backpack the detonator,
which Leksha gave me. “Do not tell me that all this

explosives, namely neither this toy, nor the second one that
you have left will not work,” after which I pointedly pressed
the activation button.
“Don’t do that!” Shouted Carefire. “What have you done, you
moron?” He clutched at his head, seeing that I had pressed the
button.
“Calm down, Alex. He said that he would not work,”
responded Sanych to my actions. “See, he is not as simple as
we had thought.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “The explosive, like all seventeen tracking
devices that you have built into it, has long been under the
control of Irala.”
“You are smart,” Sanych grinned. “Why did you come then,
since you understood a lot?”
“Sanych, I have already said, I want to know why your
organization really needs me, or is it better to address you
“The Old Man”?” Now it is really twisted. And Carefire, on
the contrary, looked extremely surprised. “Wow, the young
Alex did not know?” I was surprised. “Well, intrigues are
everywhere! Then I will ask another question. What do both
organizations need from me? This time please no fairy tales!”

CHAPTER TEN: THE TALK
Sanych leaned back in his chair, most likely reflecting on the
situation. When Carefire tried to ask something, he briefly
replied:
“We’ll talk later!”
Carefire obviously wanted to talk right now, but didn’t say
anything, glancing at Sanych. I was calm, despite the fact that
there are many ways to restrict my freedom, and in general to
ruin my life, but I didn’t care at all. I was again in my element,
even if it was not on my own territory, but the rules of such
games for spies, scouts and similar personalities of the
invisible front are almost the same everywhere. Therefore,
while these two people decided how to deal with me, I
admired the periodic flashes that ran over the barrier,
simultaneously reflecting on the play of colors that these
flashes caused. It was great! In these color play it was possible
to observe almost the entire range of hues based on the main
colour - red. The hues ranged from bright orange colour to
blood-maroon shades. At first, the darker colors gradually
faded away, taking on the lightest shades, and then darkening
back to the standard red color of the barrier with the same
wave.
“You are a mystery man,” Sanych announced the verdict after
looking at me for a short time. “I could learn about us so
much, while the information that we were able to collect about
you, is so scarce. So I want to ask a question: Who are you?”
“I have already answered this question to Alex: a simple
mercenary who lives for today.”
“You yourself suggested starting a conversation without
telling any fairy tales, but now you are the first to talk

nonsense,” Sanych shook his head, covering his eyes. “There
are no such mercenaries! Believe me; I saw a lot of them.”
“What do you want from me? Well, I’m such a wrong
mercenary. Anything can happen in life.” I shrugged my
shoulders, because whatever one may say, now I really was an
ordinary mercenary who takes on the tasks I like, and when
there are none, I go on free raids over the ruins of former
greatness.

My question put him a little at a dead end, and I understood
him perfectly - none of us wanted to open our cards first,
completely unaware of what the other party had in mind.
Carefire generally sat down at his desk and, leaning his chin
on the hands, frowned, glanced now at me, now at Sanych,
obviously digesting his heavy thoughts. This is how you trust a
person for many years, and maybe even for decades, and here
he turns out to be completely different from whom he said he
was. So we were sitting for almost a minute, in silence, where
each of the three participants took their defensive wait-and-see
attitude.
“Considering the current situation,” I began, and immediately
came under the scrutiny of the others, but that didn’t bother
me at all, “I propose a tripartite agreement, attested by the
Server. Let’s play, so to speak, in the game “QuestionAnswer”. The rules are elementary: one of you asks a
question, I answer it as fully as I can. The Server can easily
record this; all data is stored in it. Then, the right to ask a
question goes to me, but my question must be answered as
fully as I did. How do you find this idea?”

Judging by the frowning Sanych, he was thinking very hard,
weighing the risks. But Carefire, on the contrary, sharply
cheered up. I was envious; I would have his strong self-

confidence in the contracts confirmed by the Server. So he
almost immediately said, “I agree!” And the text of the
contract opened up in front of my eyes, the template of which
in a fraction of seconds was composed by the Server, based on
our words.
Attention! You are signing an agreement…

Having looked through the terms of the contract and making
sure that everything there exactly corresponded to my proposal
and then temporarily turned it up, continuing to watch Sanych.
And this old man carefully was studying the contract,
apparently weighing the risks. After all, I am sure that this old
scoundrel has something to hide in his closet. But, despite his
doubts, after just a couple of minutes, he agreed and accepted
the contract. It remained for me only to open my copy and,
having made sure that both of them accepted it, I also
confirmed the acceptance of conditions.
“Well, who will be the first of you to ask a question?” I said
when the Server confirmed the legal side of our agreement.
“How did you find out about us?” The commandant almost
immediately fired a question.
“Alex, of course, I am impressed by straightforwardness of
your warriors, but you are sometimes too straightforward.
Make your question more specific, otherwise I can begin to tell
you from the first minutes of my life to this moment, in details
and vividly describing every moment. And all this will be for at
least a week.”
“Um …” he blurted out, but Sanych just smiled at this a little.
“Ok, I’ll say it in another way. What exactly made you think
about my involvement in Resistance?”
“Well, not exactly your involvement with the “Resistance”, but
obviously in one of the organizations that do not like the

current state of affairs. A lot of things pointed to this. I will
begin, perhaps, with the absence of civilians who report
directly to you. Literally from the first days I paid attention to
the fact that almost all civilian positions are occupied by
people who have no relation to you, but at the same time you
diligently command your reliable people, from your point of
view, fighters. The second point, most likely, can be how the
outpost develops. Despite the fact that you have a lot of people
replicating here, you are developing the object not on the basis
of their needs, but only as a military garnison.
Yes, these moments could be attributed to the fact that you
yourself are a fighter, in difficult environmental conditions,
where security is more important. This is all true, but in
conditions of a shortage of space and resources. Your outpost
has no such deficit. I alone gave you a few objects, where
there was a lot of different civilian equipment. And you,
instead of making workshops, laboratories, bars and a lot of
different civilian establishments with equipment installed
there, and also find excellent specialists for this equipment;
you simply send it in an unknown direction. This is illogical
from the point of view of the curfew, but if you assume that you
feed the main base with this, then everything becomes logical.
Only you have forgotten one thing: in theory, you should not
have a main base, you work directly for the Server. We now
turn to logistics.
Just a few times accidentally going to the raids during the
arrival of supplies to the store, I was able to notice that the
nearest elevator to the upper levels is absolutely not where all
your cargo shipments go, and sometimes from there you also
go with fully loaded cars. Well, if you had somewhere else to
trade aside, filling in your personal pocket, but having
communicated with you a little, it becomes clear that you are a
principle person and you will not engage in trade for personal
gain. So, what else … Well, as to your fighters? They do not
carry out orders! No, it seems from the outside that you
command and they carry out them, but for a person who has
more or less good service experience, it becomes immediately
obvious that they are more likely to fulfill requests.

But at the same time they do everything neatly. And so,
basically, they do everything based on some ideology, which
means they have either been brainwashed well, or have a big
and bright goal, towards which they go, not sparing
themselves. And such a goal is mainly either among those who
defend their homeland from external invasion or among all
sorts of rebels, revolutionaries and other fighters striving for
“justice.” But the remaining moments are trifles that simply
gave additional indirect confirmation of the conclusions, only
reinforcing my opinion. That’s all what I wanted to say.”

A message from the Server in the lower left corner indicated
that the completeness of my answer was estimated at sixtythree percent. As for me, it is a good indicator. But Carefire
was not satisfied and he decided to ask for more.
“But how did you know that we need something from you?”
“Alex, my wonderful friend, I’m sorry, but this is the second
question,” I broke it off, and he frowned a little. It seems, and I
understood that I was right, but at the same time he could not
wait to get answers to all the questions that were spinning in
his head. In the meantime, I turned my eyes to Sanych, who all
the time during my monologue did not take his eyes off me
and mechanically tapped two fingers on the knee of his right
leg, thrown over the left. Gathering his fingers into a fist, he
slapped them on his knee.
“How?! How do you manage to say one thing, think of
another, do completely different things, and at the same time
draw some other conclusions?”
“It’s a piece of cake, Sanych! When I just started the service,
besides the unit where I went, there were a few more that were
considered more elite, where, according to rumors, there was
simply exorbitant preparation. So, I tried to get into such a
unit: I prepared, trained and, it seems, went through all the
tasks and was fit for the service, but there was one of the most

difficult tests. In a completely empty room you were put on a
special chair in front of a strange unit. Your only task was to
just sit for thirty minutes without a single thought in your
head. It seems that it is easy not to think about anything. And
in order for you to understand when you are not able to do it,
for every thought that flashed through, the chair gave a small
and harmless discharge of electricity.
Although it is not dangerous, it was extremely painful, I must
admit. Do you know what is the most common thought rushing
into the brain during this task? Maybe you will laugh, but with
such an ordeal, you almost always have one thought in your
head: “Do not think at all.” It becomes almost a mantra for
you. “Do not think, just do not think,” – it pounds in your
head almost every second. And at the same time, whenever you
are exposed to electric current, you repeatedly try to get rid of
everything, but this fucking thought will come out anyway, and
the discharge again hits you. I failed this test and did not get
into that legendary military unit. As I was later told, my
personal record was only five seconds without a single
thought. I was angry then, I was furious, I shouted at everyone
and everything, but most of all I was cross with myself. The
result of this test for me personally was the decision that I
would learn not to think. Sooner or later, but I’d get it. I can
immediately say that in my whole life it never happened to me,
but then I learned how to deceive my brain, so to speak.
After all, our mind is conventionally divided into two mental
levels - this is the consciousness and the subconscious level.
So, as it turned out, no device can fix the thinking process on
the subconscious level. And the funniest thing is that the
subconscious mind also processes information much faster. So
gradually, constantly training, I learned almost all the
important thought processes to send to the subconscious work
of the brain. At the same time, I could either leave the
consciousness completely empty, or simply hammering it with
all sorts of nonsense. For example, reflections on the structure
of a speck of dust flying past me or on the game of colors on
the glare that has reached my sight. For you, as a not-sostrong telepath, basically only superficial mental processes are
available.

And yes, I will even answer the question, which was not asked:
the fact that you are a telepath, I found out about it because of
your small mistakes, well, plus a few thoughts from Krill. Then
I simply compared several facts. Realizing that you have
telepathic abilities, I compared the speed of the appearance of
Krill near me and the fact that he received information from
the Old Man, and I came to the conclusion that you and the
so-called “The Old Wise Man” are one person.”

When I marked the end of the answer, the system managed to
surprise me enough. This fucking system did not give the
percentage of completeness of the answer, but simply reported
that it processes the data and the result will be a little later. I,
of course, repeatedly noticed the habit of the Server informing
me after something happened, but that it directly admitted that
it had no answer yet, this was for the first time.
“It explains a lot,” said Sanych in the meantime. “Although it
makes you a person difficult to predict, but it’s good for us.”
“Perhaps,” I did not argue. “But now it’s my turn to ask you
questions.”

Sanych nodded almost synchronously with Carefire,
confirming my right to receive an answer to any question.
Moreover, the system finally acted, showing that the
completeness of my answer to Sanych is eighty-seven percent.
It was very strange. To begin with, it is not clear how it
estimated and confirmed the information brought from my real
world. And what is even stranger - why such a low
percentage? I explained completely everything that was in
accordance with the question. Well … maybe I missed out on
something for myself. Most likely, these thirteen percent cover
some point that I know, but just missed out.

“Alex, then to you goes the first question. What are you
striving for? For the military people, I will explain: this is all resistance, outpost, games with spies. What is the purpose of
all these acts?”

He lowered his head, looking at his fingers, which he
nervously picked up in the air, rubbed against each other, and
in general did a bunch of actions that showed his deep level of
excitement. He, without raising his head, began to speak.
“Volper, I do not know how to explain it to you correctly. You
just still don’t really know anything of what’s really going on
in the upper levels, but I’ll try…”

Sighing heavily, he finally raised his head and looked me
straight in the eyes. I almost recoiled from his gaze, restraining
myself at the last moment. There was so much fanatical
determination in him that it was terrifying, but at the same
time compelling to respect. It was the gaze of the wrong
fanatic who was undermining the charge on himself with some
kind of delusion on his lips. There was fanaticism, in which
the fighters with many wounds, being courageous, manage to
accomplish the combat task, and then undermine the thermal
charge, so as not to leave for the enemy their body. Hmm … It
seems that Carefire is not brainwashed, but simply
ideologically inclined.
“You know, in our society, an orphan is an extremely rare
thing. Indeed, even with all sorts of tragedies, parents are
restored in the replicator. But there are exceptions, mostly it
happens when parents are deprived of parental rights by the
court, or if they are completely unlucky and have died many
times in a row, having spent all their replication attempts once
and for all …”

He paused again, choosing carefully words. I did not hurry
him. According to him, it was clear that these words are hard
for him to pronounce. Although this did not apply to my
question, or rather it was most likely related only indirectly,
but for some reason he decided to speak now. Sanych rose
from his chair and went to the counter with a weapon and
remained there, standing with his back to us. Carefire went on.
“I was, unfortunately, in a third, more rare case. My parents
were gone. They never appeared in the replicator. Most often
in such cases, people later find themselves in slavery with
some gangs, or they are reinstalled with a neural interface and
tied to another replication capsule, being sold to some shadow
corporations for experiments. Be that as it may, the situation
was extremely nasty. Even though our children are under
intensive supervision, a lot of benefits and subsidies, but this
all applies to those who are caring for the child. The rest,
unfortunately, do not care about the child. So it turned out that
I have, conditionally, parents who should look after me. The
government regularly gives them a huge amount of benefits for
them.
And in fact I was left to myself, not being able to even find
some-thing to eat. But that’s not the point. As you can see, I
got up and became quite an influential person among the
military people. Why did I tell you this then? And the fact that
while I was trying to survive in a conditionally ideal society,
or as the government say: “A utopian society, where everyone
gets to the best of his merit,” I saw this society from the
bottom, where, with all my desire, there is almost no way to get
out. I was lucky, several opportunities turned out well, and a
few people turned up on my way, who helped me just out of
pity, but that turned out to be enough. But so many others were
unlucky, because really the top positions were occupied long
ago by the most powerful corporations that are not planning to
move anywhere.

Absolutely all the posts have long been assigned for several
generations ahead. You are familiar with Leksha and perfectly
saw that he is a cybernetic technician, very talented, all the
cyborgs that serve in the outpost, stand in line for his implants
and upgrades. So, he, with all his talents and quite a rather
big level at that time, could not get a job even in a shitty
workshop for repairing anti-gravitational machines. I found
him already a step before his getting the red level, because the
guy was desperate then,” Carefire gradually became anxious.
It can be seen, this was an extremely painful topic for him.
“Many of my guys pulled me from the guts!
So, if you dig to the essence of your question … My goal is to
overthrow corporations from the top of this pyramid and give
ordinary people the opportunity to really get the benefits of
society to the best of their merits, and not for the merits of
selected people, who are eligible only in one case – if they are
born to the right, influential and well-off family.”

After this, Carefire became silent. I didn’t even have to look
into the system to understand that he answered my question, if
not one hundred percent, then close to this value. Sanych
turned and headed towards his chair, but his lips were tightly
pressed and his cheekbones were tense, which clearly showed
that a little more and his teeth would begin to crumble - he
squeezed his jaws so hard. He sat down and stared at me.
“Well?” He decided to address me.
“Do not wait for my turn! I will not ask you a question.”
“Why not?” It seems I managed to surprise him again.
“Just because… In the contract it is not stated when I can use
my right question,” I smiled in response.

Sanych’s defocused glance made it clear that he immediately
got into the contract to check my words. After making sure
that there is really no such item there, he at first tried to curse,
and then laughed.
“WELL, sucker, oh WEL!” He squeezed out of himself, wiping
away tears with a palm of his hand. And then, squinting a
little, looked at me. “Why? You do not want to know my
pursuits?”
“What for? You have already defined your goals long ago. You
just want to return to how it was to everything be as you
planned. If it is possible to put it this way, restart everything,
and in the new version do not allow that critical error, which
ruined such a colorful idea. Well, if it is ordinary and
understandable for Carefire, then you just want people and
psionics to coexist again.”
“Oh, you are not simple, Volper, not simple!” He shook his
head. “It seems that I did not say anything like that, but you
understood me. I just don’t understand how you found it out,
but using Alex’s example, I’ve already seen that you can see
the right picture bit by bit.”
“Then I have one more question for you …” the commandant
began. “What do you know about Sanych? After all, between
you and me, the first questions are already closed. So I can ask
a new one.”

Sanych started this question a bit, obviously wants to keep a
lot of information secret from Alex, but he doesn’t know for
sure how much information I have about him. Carefire,
meanwhile, looked at Sanych with a hint of a smile, expecting
to hear about him, if not all the details, but a lot of
information. But it was not in my interests now; let them
figure it out on their own, among themselves, in their
intrigues.

“And who told you that I will answer?” Sarcastically, I asked.
“But the contract …” I begin to smile wildly at this. It seems
that they have been using contracts for so long, but they still
haven’t found commonplace loopholes.
“Where does it say that I have to answer? It only says that if I
answered, then you must answer my question with no less
complete information.”

Again being cornered, again shifty eyes checking the text of
the agreement, only this time there were no curses, just a
heavy sigh of regret that they so easily fell on the hook of the
contract.
“Ok, I understand your goals and plans, too. So far, only one
clarification is plausible: as I understand it correctly, you just
need a valid Scurfifer?”
“Yes,” they answered almost synchronously.
“Ok, I agree. I just had one extremely important task that
without this profession would be difficult to accomplish. So, as
long as our goals coincide, I will help you.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN: YOU NEVER KNOW WHERE
YOUR LIFE PATH WILL TAKE YOU
We spent on the coordination of the obligations of each party
the next few hours. The question was complicated by the fact
that at the moment it was not clear why they needed a
Scurfifer. Unfortunately, they both decided to keep still, but
they didn’t want to waste my turn to ask a question for the
sake of such a thing. They agreed that as soon as I receive the
profession, they will describe in detail the first task that I will
need to complete. For my part, for such secrecy, I bargained
not only for the preparation for the exam to get the profession,
which is necessary not only for me, but also for professional
training of my team. Moreover, it took almost half an hour to
discuss what kind of training I need. Well, they could not
understand why I so strongly protest the standard training in
their understanding.
“Volper, how can’t you understand?” Carefire repeated. “We
have worked out training schemes for almost any profession
available here, which have already been tested by more than a
dozen qualified specialists of a sufficiently high class.”
“Alex, how difficult it is to deal with you,” I sighed, and patted
my short hair cut several times back and forth. “Let’s analyze,
for example, a sapper-demolition specialist. You offer me at
the end of training to get a hulking fighter, whose work is only
connected with explosives and mines.”
“Well, why do you need more skills?” He was surprised.

Sanych, at this moment, kept his mouth shut, not wanting to
interfere in our little heated debate. Although for the most part,
his word would be decisive in the use of the training grounds,
but no, this old man was sitting and smiling as if watching a
holographic film.

“You may not need others in tactical groups, but I need a
mobile high-damage fighter specializing in explosives who can
perform the functions of a small mobile artillery system of
massed fire.”
“What?”
“Hey, damn it!”
“Alex, he just wants his guys to be universal fighters, to be
able to act completely autonomously in a long separation from
the bases of support. You know, I’ll probably support him in
this endeavor. I do not know what will come out of this, but
this is only to our advantage.”
“You are fucking adventurers!” He humbled and sank back
into the chair. “Fuck with you, only if you fail them with their
profession, then you yourself will suffer! Just tell me, how are
you going to make a secondary profession a fighting one? I
realized that it was necessary to raise certain weapon skills,
but they are not related to the profession.”
“You are mistaken, they are related. Imagine for a moment if I
give Sargos two small forty-millimeter automatic grenade
launchers with drum magazines instead of revolvers.”
“So what?”
“And now let’s take unusual ammunition: cartridges converted
together by Quartz and Sargos under this caliber, filled with
various mines, explosive shells, chemical grenades, and even
usual paralyzing gas.”
“We get direct work with mines and explosives in battle,” his
eyes widened. “Remote installation of mines, the ability to
trigger most skills directly in combat fight…”
“Exactly! And that’s not all. Therefore, I insist on training
those skills that I consider important.”
“Okay, I can see that you are very persuasive so that you
would make a meat eater start eating food made of concrete!”
Carefire finally agreed. “And with your android, what did you
decide to do?”

“Firstly, she is a member of my team, and not an errand droid,
so I’ll ask you to mention her by name in the future,” I added a
bit of strength to my voice. But nobody is allowed to speak of
my team members as things, even if not all of them are people.
“Do not worry; you’d better answer the question.”
“I don’t know yet, I planned to make a working pair consisting
of her and Castra, but for now I’m thinking how best to
implement it. By the way, why does she interest you so much?”
“In general, we did not count on it,” Sanych took the floor.
“But she fits very well with our plans. We need a fighter, and
better a group that will have neutral status. Previously, we
thought only about the Scurfifer and completely lost sight of
the androids.”
“It is clear, we have dealt with this issue, and now I will go
talk to her. For now, my brain starts to slow down.”
“Ok, you can go,” agreed Sanych and Carefire, repeating after
him, nodded. “And we still have something to talk about. We
will be waiting for you in two days at the site, and then we will
make you a professional.”

Turning off the barrier and letting me go, they closed the door
again. And rubbing my eyes, I went to my base. Glancing at
the clock in the neural interface, I was a little bit shocked. I
had not noticed how I did not sleep for almost a day. That’s
probably why my brain started to burn slightly. It will be
necessary to ask Tilorn to make a couple of sets of some
stimulants for such cases. I feel that they will come in handy
for us more than once, especially taking into account the
upcoming intensive training. Going first to the replication
capsules, found both our girls there.
Castra was asleep on a small folding chair, folding her arms on
a capsule in which Quartz was to appear, and placing her head
on top. Irala was sitting beside her and curiously watching the
dimensional movement of the white fog, which completely hid
the replication process, but as soon as the door opened, letting

me in, she turned almost immediately. Noticing that it was me,
she put a finger to her lips, nodded at Castra, and, rising,
stepping smoothly, making almost no noise, approached me
and, pulling me by the sleeve, led me out of the room. When
the door closed behind us, she started to speak.
“Let her sleep, she fell asleep only ten minutes ago.”
“Yeah, I do not mind. Today, she was quite exhausted, that’s
true. - Have you figured out the mine stretches?”
“Yes, I neutralized everything, except for the tracking sensors:
there were three more explosives. The detonators are
neutralized, but they will have to be removed, otherwise it may
be activated if accidentally hit.”
“Well, I’ll ask Quartz to do this, when he comes to himself.”
“OK!” she was a little crumpled and nevertheless asked a
question that now was very unpleasant for me. “Why did you
want to put so much explosive in my head? I analyzed the
construction and words of Leksha. If two stretches were hidden
from the outside view, they could be placed in the head only
with your consent.”
“Well, how can I explain to you,” I began to choose words
correctly in order to give her information more softly, but then
I mentally stopped and decided to tell the truth. “Irala, to be
honest, I did not trust you after our first meeting. At first, I
thought that you were just using me, then there was a thought
that they wanted to put you on me specifically in the neural
interface. In general, there were many thoughts, so I decided
to play it safe.”
“And now, do you trust me?” She slyly squinted.
“Um …” I thought. “I do not know. The only thing I know now
is that you were not in the plans of any of the organizations
that would like to influence me. You are an unrecorded factor,
so I decided to take a chance and trust you. If I did it right or
not, time will tell.”

While I was speaking, I was very closely watching Ira.
Although she, in fact, is not a living person, she has emotions.
It was by their manifestation that I tried to understand her
attitude to my words. She, having slightly lowered the head,
obviously thought that it looked very strange, considering that
she, in theory, should process a larger amount of information
in a fraction of seconds.
“Thank you!” Finally spoke Irala.
“For what?”
“For telling the truth. I will have a request for you. Though I
don’t know you very well, but judging by what I understood
and saw, you try to keep your promises,” I just nodded in
response. “Therefore, I want to ask you only about one thing.
Promise, do not just say, but promise, whatever happens, do
not deceive me.”

Her request really surprised me, and I was on the verge of
saying “yes, I promise,” but I stopped myself in time. I have
no idea what is happening in her electronic soul, but obviously
she is not calm. I don’t know what influenced her like this: a
new body or communication with my group members - no
matter what, now you can’t be light-hearted about her request.
She was five centimeters below me and now looked
somewhere in the area of my chest, so I had to bend a little to
look into her eyes.
“Irala, I cannot promise to never to you, because situations
are different and sometimes it is necessary to deceive a friend
in order to save him or in order not to protect him. I can only
promise that I will never deceive you unless there is need for
your safety or the safety of people who are dear to me.”

“You’re right, it will be better for her,” she agreed with my
common sense. - “I just connected to the local database and
immediately hacked it … You know … When Leksha mentioned
the fact that there used to be androids, it became very
interesting for me, and I began to search for information about
them. What I learned was just awful, in fact, they were simply
deceived and betrayed and … and … I do not want the same
thing to happen to me.”
“Don’t worry,” I decided to calm her down. “I’m not going to
betray you, at least until you do it first,” she even smiled a
little hearing my words.
“Don’t worry about it. Do you remember, Leksha mentioned
that the Server has no influence on us at all?”
“I remember it.”
“So, he was not quite right. The server has a communication
channel with us and, depending on our actions, sometimes
sends s kind of information data packet. In one of such
packages there was one rather interesting piece of
information: androids have ability…”

After a moment of silence and having had a little rest, she
nodded to some of her inner thoughts and closed her eyes,
evidently getting into her interface. And then a warning
system popped up for my entire review, for some reason in
purple-red tones with green and blue elements that looked like
a board, peeking through blood and meat. Such a sign only in
its design caused goose bumps to start spreading through the
entire vertebra. This is only a design, but the text, which was
on this background, just froze the brain from the
understanding that I gradually climbed deeper into the
problems.
Attention! Android Irala wants to be your companion.
Accept the offer?

Yes/No

The notification slightly knocked me out, but I almost
immediately confidently pressed “No.” I really wanted to press
another button, but now it is not the time.
“Why?” Irala almost immediately responded, while, it seems,
being a little offended.
“Because I don’t want to get a person attached to me just out
of gratitude. I need a comrade who I can always rely, and not
the one who executes orders just because they have to do so.”
“I didn’t quite understand your motives, but I accept them and
will try to figure out the matter in time.”
“Good! Irala, of course, I’m sorry, but I want to sleep because
I have been awake for more than a day and really exhausted.
Let’s talk tomorrow when I’ll come to my senses.”

She did not object and, lost in her electronic thoughts, went
back to the room with the replication capsules. And I stood a
little with an absolutely empty head without a single thought.
Shaking my head, dispersing the light mist formed in the
thoughts. Having reached the room, I barely forced myself to
get undressed and put all things and weapons in their places.
Hmm … I remember earlier, just a few days ago it was not a
problem to do without sleep, and then now I am exhausted just
after one single day. Probably it can be attributed to my
characteristics. Fully exhausted, I got to my bed and fell into
the arms of Morpheus.
I was awakened by our usual morning noise, which occurs
almost every morning in our room. Without even opening my
eyes, I immediately realized that everything was okay. Castra
was chasing Sargos around the room because of something:
either they were training, or he did something naughty. Quartz

used his foul language as usual, where he has his workshop,
again switching to slang. Tilorn, who had previously been
chatting with Irala, broke off, and literally a second later there
was the sound of someone hitting someone’s head, returning
Quartz to the mainstream of normal language. The idyllic
place is great; it feels like I came back about seventy years
ago, when I constantly had a similar noise in my house that
created my large family. So, maybe I should stop being
nostalgic?
It’s time to wake up and bring my team up-to-date about the
events. While I got dressed, the others had already arranged
their seats on the beds in anticipation of the conversation.
Taking a chair near Quartz’s workplace and moving it to the
middle of the room, turning it back to the others, I sat on it,
with my elbows in the back.
“I promised you a heart-to-heart talk. Considering that one of
these days the situation with us will dramatically change, I
think that it is time to speak openly. Who has any questions?”
“In the laboratory, when we encountered a raid by the
Centurion, their commander spoke a lot about it. I would like
to understand what he was talking about,” Tilorn said, trying
to find correct words.
“Well then, let’s start from scratch. Only for Irala I will
explain a little…”
“No, I already understood almost everything about the fact
that you consider this a virtual world and everything that
follows from here. I cannot agree with you, but your version is
not devoid of sense.”
“Then it’s easier…”, coughing a little, I continued. “Then I’ll
tell my real name. My name is Ignatenko Vladimir
Alekseevich, a retired Lieutenant-General, in the past,
commander of a separate special-purpose battalion of
reconnaissance-landing troops as part of the space defense
forces of the planet Earth. You most likely heard about the socalled Ignatenko case.”

Having introduced myself, I closed my eyes and clenched my
teeth. Now absolutely all the relationships that I have built
could crumble with a crash. At the same time, I understand
them perfectly, it is practically because of me they are stuck in
this gloomy world, where they mostly have to survive without
the commonplace joys of life, where they have to go on
dangerous raids, grit their teeth in pain, and delve into bloody
remains to earn local money. Therefore, I expected a lot, and
when I heard the approaching cautious steps, I opened my
eyes, and saw Castra approaching me uncertainly.
Immediately, involuntarily tense up, waiting for a slap in the
face, although this is not typical of her. But she knelt down in
front of me and, clasping my neck with her hands, she rested
her head on my shoulder and wept bitterly. Having circled the
rest with a dazed look in search of an explanation, I saw that
everyone else, except for Irala, stubbornly looked in different
directions, but not in my own.
Having finally caught Tilorn’s gaze, with mimicry and eye
movement, he expressed to me all of his shock of the situation.
If Castra had not pressed my arms to the back of the chair, I
would have shown him with my fingers. In response, he
whispered only one short phrase with his lips, after which I
released my arms and held the girl tightly to me.
Unfortunately, in our time, this phrase practically forced
anyone to grit their teeth and try to help anyone who referred
to these words: “She is from the Raut”.
Fifteen years have passed since those events, but this tragedy
has not yet let go of any person in all the inhabited space. The
Raut was once a small resort planet, almost completely
covered by water. The only part that was land on it, was the
size of Australia, more precisely, as it was in the twentieth or
twenty-first centuries. Due to the almost unique confluence of
cosmic events and the twin stars that warmed this planet, the
temperature on the island was always between twenty-six to
thirty-two degrees all year round, turning this small island into
a paradise for holidaymakers.

Then this paradise suddenly turned into hell. One of the
extremely aggressive sects landed on this island from transport
spacecraft. A total of about seventy thousand people came:
after conducting a huge number of investigations, it was found
out that this act of terrorism had been prepared for almost
several hundred years, and the groups of sectarians were
practically on every planet and in every city. And shortly
before the action, they all gathered in one place.
The only thing that could not be found out then was: did they
specifically choose the day when one group of children arrived
at the resort and another had not left yet, or was it a fatal
coincidence? But anyway, at that time there were only a
couple of thousand adults on the entire planet and almost
twenty thousand children aged from two years old to twelve.
The sectarians, almost immediately seizing the whole territory,
began to make bloody sacrifices, calling for some kind of
demon, or devil, or some kind of shit. The closest militarized
unit was a company of yesterday’s cadets, with whom I
arranged a test training flight for the selection of candidates
for the battalion.
There was a hundred fucking young men still under the
command of an old man who was about to retire. Well, we had
also the spacecraft’s team, which, although familiar with hand
weapons, but still not infantry. So, we landed on the Raut
facing a huge crowd of sectarians. When the main forces
arrived in three days, there were only six of us left, and there
were nearly three thousand hungry and exhausted children
around us.
“Quartz!” I quietly called the technician. And when he looked
at me, he nodded at Castra.

He understood everything and, coming up, carefully pulled the
girl away from me, and led her back to the cot, trying to calm
her down. In the meantime, I looked at Tilorn. I wanted to tell

him a lot about his choice of the virtual world for its
immersion. But he stopped short, remembering that I myself
was partly to blame, creating a precedent for only one project.
Just clarified:
“How did she even get to you?”
“After the events on…” he stopped, and continued looking at
Castra. “In general, when she was brought, with almost all her
body paralyzed because of the psychological shock. From a
medical point, everything is in order, the problem is
psychological failure.”
“I see.”

Yes, now it’s really clear to me both her desire to be stronger
and her reaction in the laboratory. Yes, almost everything
became clear. But it would be better if it did not happen, but
who could have known that, like this, fifteen years later, I
would meet one of the Raut children.
“Will we have any further questions or will we round off this
topic today?”
“We’d better round it out,” Tilorn shook his head. “Yes, and
your name and position give the answer to most questions. No,
I have one question. Could this judicial precedent influence
the entire virtual reality, and not only Alfarome?”
“Honestly, at that very moment I didn’t even think that it could
come out this way.”
“Yes, I have no complaints, just a cry from the bottom of my
heart,” he smiled sadly. “By the way, what have you decided
there with big cheese?”
“Big cheese and I decided that our lives are changing
dramatically in the near future. Tomorrow we begin intensive

training under the guidance of local specialists, and Sanych
will prepare me for passing the exam to get the profession.”
“Really you decided to get yourself a professional?” Tilorn
was smiling.
“Were you forced?”
“Not understood…”
“Something incomprehensible is happening in this world and,
it seems, without this profession, or rather, without what it
gives, I cannot unravel this puzzle.”
“OK, but do not forget about us. We are not going anywhere
from you now.”
“I …” Castra began to stammer a little, still not fully
reassured. “I … For that … What you did for us then, I would
never leave you alone …”
“Already then, near Martha, I said everything,” it was Quartz
who added.
“I owe you my new body,” decided Irala, who had been
silently sitting all this time, to define her position.

Sargos simply raised his thumb, making it clear that he
supports the decision of the rest. Nice, damn it, when there is
someone to support you.
“Well, and then get ready for the next month to go through
hellish training under the strict supervision of local
specialists,” I smiled in response.

CHAPTER TWELVE: ROUTINE
I sometimes feel that I lack a nice, good-tempered warehouse
manager. More precisely, this is not the case, I have my own
warehouse manager, but this is Carefire’s man, and he thinks
first of all about the benefit of the commandant, and not about
mine. And I need a good, one might say, experienced
storekeeper, not one who without a dozen documents with my
personal signature would not even give out a grain of sand in
the middle of the desert. And also, he would mainly think of
enriching our group, as well as accumulating assets. In
general, from time to time I dream about the physical
embodiment of the legendary fighting hamster, even together
with the very toad that covers his back, when together they
protect everything they have gained.
And now I’m here with a tablet PC, like an idiot, and trying to
figure out this pile of trophies. I exaggerate a little about the
pile-up, everything is neatly laid out on the shelves, and
especially large objects stand right on the floor in specially
designated places. For me, it’s all the same, it all remains a
jumble. Well, I do not understand anything in these devices! It
was much easier in the lair of the bandits - everything was
very simple and clear: there were cartridges, there were small
arms around the corner, armor, and in the next hall there was a
large-caliber defensive weapon. And then, damn it, an
unknown to me device, called “Device ANP 3223523 M”. So I
can’t understand what it is.
Well, damn it, when I addressed the others, as soon as I told
them about it, everyone ran away in their corners to finish
their “extra urgent” business, which they needed to finish right
away. Only Irala did not know what to do. I already wanted to
take her with me to the warehouse, to sort out trophies, or
rather, to lay out the share due to us in two piles. One pile is
something that we will probably need, and the second one is
something that will definitely go on sale.
Quartz interfered when he rushed up with burning eyes and
dragged Irala to his robot to register a behavioral algorithm

and synchronize with the control module of the technician.
Having sighed heavily, I ignored my thoughts and returned to
this damn list showing the contents of the warehouse, and, of
course, to the local all-knowing storekeeper.
“Remy, please explain to me what the fuck is this?” I asked
another question, poking my finger first in a line of text on the
tablet, and then on an incomprehensible pile lying in front of
me on the shelf.

The answer came immediately, however, like many times
before, but only every time it was almost the same.
“Volper, how many times can you repeat,” Remy sighed
heavily. “My business is to take to the warehouse, place and, if
necessary, give away. And of what have you brought here, I
have no idea.”
“Yes, I know … Just got enough to come across the strange
fucking things.”

I had to look up in the database again and for about fifteen
minutes I studied the available information on this device. Of
course, I read quickly, and the description was not very large
there, but many specialized terms were used so that it made
me think very hard and then I had to look for decryption or to
contact Tilorn so that he would explain everything to me. It
was hard to communicate with him. Every time he sent me big
texts asking me to leave this or that device. It even went so far
that he once rushed almost to the point of insanity in his
medical overalls and clung to some kind of “Paragmatic
analyzer of the urine-wave value of genetic material.”
After that, it took him twenty minutes to fuck my brain, telling
me what an awesome thing this was, and that without it, we

couldn’t fight at all. The funny thing about such situations was
that I didn’t really mind it all, I just couldn’t even put it into
words and I think all I had to do is just say “Take it away from
me.” And the saddest thing in the situation was that he fucked
my brain so much that my head was spinning because of a
huge number of medical terms and concepts, his trying to
prove our need in this particular device. It seems that recently
he has become a medicine freak. Probably, he finally decided
to devote himself to something useful and he started his labor
of love.
I had been wandering around this warehouse trying to decide
what would go on sale for eight hours. The point is, frankly
speaking, useless because it was possible for me to just collect
everything in bulk and send all this to Carefire on the
exclusive right basis, and the remains could be sold to the
merchants. But I screwed up a couple of times, so now I
decided every time to think thoroughly before I do something.
Having finished analyzing trophies, I glanced at my guys and
made sure that everything was okay - everyone was busy
doing their own business. Tilorn played with a bunch of new
devices in his mini lab. On the one hand, they could have been
profitable to sell, but after looking at how Tilorn was looking
at them, I realized we wouldn’t get any profit. And, it seemed,
we were not in distress yet.
Having made my way through Tilorn’s laboratory to that half
of the room that was allocated for Sargos; I found that after a
routine clean-up it looked perfect. And last time I had the
impression that he was constantly in a mess, but it seems I was
wrong and I turned up at the wrong time then.
“Well, young fighter, are you ready to learn?”

In response, he first waved his head, then, turning around,
tried to show me with his hand that, as they say, he had a lot of
work, and I need to go away but when he saw that he already

had almost brilliant cleanliness, sighed heavily, squeezed out
of himself:
“Ready …” and then added in a guilty voice. “Worried!”
“Why?”
“Not sure … that … I will learn correctly …” again he was
silent for a while and added. “You teach well … showing
examples … As to the others; I do not know … The way they
teach.”
“Do not worry: if you do not understand anything, I can
always explain. I’m not going to leave you, and no one has
canceled periodic raids.”
“Thank you … You reassured me … So it will be … Much
easier.”

Then I helped him a little with the cleaning and went to the
others, after warning him that if I ever saw such a mess, he
would be doing the daily cleaning of the entire base for a
month. I couldn’t find Castra, but judging by the words of the
duty fighters from the cover group of our trophy players, she
rode off to the general training ground. I had to go to the
garage, check the two remaining team members. In the garage,
Irala was sitting on the robot we had obtained, and with the
help of a laptop connected to it, tried to adjust the brains of
this piece of iron.
I wanted to ask why she needed such a pile of metal, but
having noticed two technicians swirling around nearby, I
understood everything myself. Quartz, meanwhile, carried out
repairs to the robot. Having walked a little bit, I had to admit
that I was just pulling time, trying to postpone the inevitable
beginning of Sanych’s bullying of my mortal body. There was
no sense to drag on any further time, but I didn’t want to
distract the guys from work.

Peering into our room, I quickly got changed, taking only a
couple of pistols and a set of knives. Well, I can’t be
completely without a weapon here, because even in reality I
always carried a gun with me! Damn, I am again distracted.
What an incomprehensible case! It seems that a young man
has already grown older, and quite a lot of things had passed,
and here, before the usual training, I am again worried, as I
was before entering the academy of landing troops. Getting
ready, I went to the service ground to be under Sanych
supervision. He was there - in the control room of the testing
site.
“It seems we agreed to meet tomorrow,” without even saying
hello, the old man immediately started shouting at me.
“Yes, I know that but I am already free, so I decided not to
wait.” I replied.
“Okay. Come on, join me,” turning back to the control panel,
he began to work on it, making some adjustments, while
continuing to talk to me. “The training ground has not yet
been prepared, but we still need to clarify a lot of stuff before
starting training to create a good training plan…” And then,
turning to the attendant, shouted at him. “What are you
waiting for? Go to the training grounds and control the work
of the technicians!”

The officer, jumping up, almost turned over the chair on which
he was sitting, and rushed to the door at full speed, completely
forgetting about the helmet, which Sanych immediately
reminded him of.
“You sucker, fuck! Helmet, you forgot your helmet!”

The poor soldier at first almost ran into the door jamb, trying
to stop after the gained speed, and then, with a slight slippage
on the mirrored floor, rushed back and, snatching the helmet,
shot out of the room like a bullet. Sanych, having made sure
that we were alone, blocked the front door from the inside and,
turning around to me, put his elbows on his knees, clasping his
fingers in the lock.
“Well, my friend,” and then he continued right away, “so, after
yesterday’s talk you put everything out on the shelves and
practically surprised us with your vast knowledge, and now I
can’t call you a young sucker anymore. Okay, Volper, let’s get
to the point. As far as I understand, you want to train
according to the “Seraphim” specialization, or did you
manage to get a couple of other “souls”?”
“No,” I replied briefly.
“So we are not changing our plans yet. Look here…” and he
brought out a three-dimensional image of the Scurfifer over
the console in the complete set of “Seraphim”. “As I
mentioned, each specialization is designed for your specific
fighting style. The set of “Seraphim” was specially designed
for light, highly mobile Scurfifers, and is designed to work
both in isolation from the main group and for the performance
of one of several roles in the group. In the group they were
scouts because of their high mobility, sniper support, or attack
aircraft for combat in closed conditions at close distances.”
“It turns out he is a special-purpose scout,” I began
thoughtfully, carefully considering the three-dimensional
projection of the fighter and listening to Sanych’s talk on the
way. “Judging by the equipment, almost everything is
accentuated by deep penetration, the extraction of information
and, if necessary, the elimination of especially dangerous
targets, even if it is not possible to get close to them. All the
rest is just means of evacuation, if he was discovered and
surrounded.”
“We considered this option, but decided that this was not taken
into account in the design. Especially if we take into account

that in the archives of that time there was not a single mention
of major military clashes in the city.”
“I can be mistaken,” I shrugged my shoulders, “let’s stick to
the point. What do I need to get this profession?”
“It will be necessary to hold on for an hour at the training
grounds while being tested for Scurfifer. There will be
additional tasks there, but if you survive within an hour, you
will get the profession. Moreover, you should realize that the
tasks will be so difficult that it will be impossible to fulfill
them.”
“Why?”
“A total of ten additional tasks must be passed. This is not a
whim, but the conditions for obtaining the profession. Each
completed task requires the Server to pay you an additional
amount, and a very substantial one. And besides, there must be
a reward, which is discussed at the time of the assignment. The
equal value of the reward to the task is regulated by the Server.
So there you can get unreal bonuses.”
“Wait, I have a question! Why don’t the others, who get this
profession, pass a similar test?”
“Because only those who want to get the “dead” profession,
get tests at the Center of Professions,” he added, after seeing a
misunderstanding in my eyes. “Those are the professions that
do not have at least three people with the right to teach.”
“It is clear, and then what are we going to train here?”
“You need to increase your basic skills and a couple of other
characteristics. Therefore, you will have at least one to three
months of training, with breaks for raids only to consolidate
the acquired skills. Well, let’s try to open you a couple of
necessary skills,”interrupting, he stared into the distance and
continued again after a moment. “OK, great, the technicians
have finished. Fifteen minutes to download the training course
and we shall begin.” And now he unlocked the door.

Nodding in response, showing that I understood, I went to the
locker room to prepare for training. I changed clothes pretty
quickly, so I stuttered for more than ten minutes in front of the
door to the training grounds. But finally, the door sided up to
the sides, and I stepped onto the grounds. It seems that not so
long ago I had a week-long training session here, but the
feeling that more than a year had passed; the past days were
too intense.
“So,” Sanych’s voice came from the speakers. “Now I’ll form
you a Seraphim training kit. We will test it while idle so that
you can get used to its capabilities and get control of it.”

On saying this, a lot of nanites began to separate from the
floor, and this dark, stirring mass began to creep up my legs,
gradually forming a set of armor and equipment. These nanites
are a good thing, only one disadvantage - for their full use you
need such a room, where special control sensors are built into
the walls, the floor and even the ceiling, which allow you to
create practically anything in this space. In the “field”, to my
great disappointment, the range of their use is much lower and
is used most often in armor, which has a frame with wired
control sensors.
When the nanites completely formed my equipment, without
waiting for the Sanych call, I began to do a full-fledged warmup, trying to understand in the meantime what movements the
armor would forbid me, and which ones I could do freely.
Oddly enough, I performed almost all the warm-up elements
without the slightest embarrassment. The only thing that
hindered was the tiny stubs of the wings, now assembled on
the back in the marching mode, and a rifle located in the
middle of the back. One thing is good that from the side it
looks like a small backpack on my back.

“I was given another ten minutes to study the kit and begin the
test run,” Sanych’s voice came again.

I should wait for ten minutes, ok, then ten minutes. So now
quickly go over the information about the things. Trying to
open information about the left glove, brought to my eyes, and
was completely disappointed.
Layout of the left glove set “Seraphim”
Material: Nanites.
Condition: 100% or until cancellation of the form.
Weight: Depending on the parameters set when making a
form.

Well, okay, then I will conduct a visual inspection. The helmet
was light and did not constrain the movement of the head,
while leaving only the face open from the chin to the middle
of the forehead. The back of the head and neck, as far as I
could understand, were protected by a segment gorget, which
was either attached to the shoulder pads, or was part of them.
The eyes were protected by big goggles, exactly the same as
the set that I have, so I didn’t focus on them. But I was
interested in the half mask. In fact, it was an independent
element of armor, but somehow it was very cleverly docked
with the lower part with a gorget, and the upper part with
glasses, and there was also a flange to the helmet. The only
thing that I did not understand when I looked at the half mask
was where I could get oxygen from?
After all, judging by its structure, it is a closed breathing
system. In general, all four elements of armor, designed to
protect everything above the shoulder, looked separately as
completely independent things. But when you put them on and
customize them, you get the feeling that you put on a one-

piece closed helmet, in which you can walk in outer space if
you like. Shoulder protectors, judging by a fast inspection,
were a whole complex designed to protect the shoulder girdle
and shoulder to the very elbow, where it was flowing into the
bracers, forming an elbow pad at the junction and then going
into gloves. I even spent almost a minute on these three things,
trying to find something unusual in them, but no matter how
hard I tried, I could not.
It is just an ordinary armor and it has got quite an interesting
system of cells which is used to distribute the load over the
entire surface, and a couple more engineering solutions that I
have never seen before. In general, me being not very
technically experienced, there was nothing unusual in these
things. It is not clear why they are being longed for. I also
looked at the breastplate with a quick glance, but I began to
study the belt in more detail. Judging by the location of the
segments, the belt contains a lot of special pockets, but for
some reason it is very small, and no matter how hard I tried, I
could not open them up. Right and left in the thigh holsters
were hanging compact pistol-machine guns, which I had
previously seen.
But in the area of the knee pads, I was in for a surprise in the
form of two small handles of long blades that were stored on
the outside of the lower part of the leg, and these handles were
covered with armor. So at once you will not notice their
presence, especially from the side. In order to extract them,
only light pressure was needed, after which they directly
jumped out in the palm of my hands. I did not have time to
explore my back. Firstly, the time was running out, secondly, I,
unfortunately, did not even have the most lousy mirror, and to
take off all this harness would take too long. Yeah, and
Sanych’s voice comes again.

“That’s it, I’m ready. To begin with, you are to go through the
usual tasks, and I will collect the data. Then we will test the
basic features of the kit. Are you ready?”

“I am always ready to fight.”
“Well then, let’s get started. Raise your right hand. So, now
your left one…”

He tortured me for about twenty minutes like this, first
making me move my limbs, turn my head, then squats, jumps,
and such nonsense went. In general, everything is the same as
I did at the very beginning. Couldn’t he immediately take the
measurements he needed? I directly felt myself not at the
training ground, but being in front of the commission to check
me for military service. Judging by the intonation of Sanych’s
voice, he liked the data he received, and so it went on until we
switched to the capabilities of the kit, or rather, to the wings.
“Spread your wings in an app.”
“Um … how?”
“Mentally. You can, of course, simply form orders,
pronouncing them, but the best thing is if you can manage
them mentally as part of your body.”

If it is better as a part of the body, then we will get used to it
right away. No sooner said than done. Having a little detached
from the surrounding world, slightly as if immersed in myself,
I tried to get those feelings that, in my understanding, should
cause the wings attached to the back open up. So, now we fix
these sensations and try to move the muscles responsible for
the wings. I was so carried away that I even slightly shook my
shoulders. The next moment, my vestibular apparatus rebelled,
and opening my eyes wide, I tried to catch at least one stable
point with my eyes. I twisted in all sorts of sides about half a
meter above the ground. Sanych shouted something in an
offensive language, but his words did not reach my

consciousness, which was now absorbed in attempts to
stabilize my condition. But no matter how hard I tried, I was
just thrown from side to side, occasionally spinning in various
somersaults.
Here, it seems, there are only six surfaces on the test site: four
walls, a floor and a ceiling. Only for some reason it seems to
me that there are a couple of hundred walls here, because at
least so many times I managed to crash into different walls. I
was glad that most of my strikes against the walls and the floor
were extinguished by the armor, but from time to time I was
still knocked out by several units of life. The end of the epic of
my first unsuccessful flights was put by the most usual thought
that “get out of here as soon as possible.” Like what’s wrong
with that? Well, the thought came, and literally in a fraction of
a second it left me, only from this thought a kind of
afterburner was activated on the wings. To my great regret, at
that moment I was making another uncontrollable somersault
and the switching on of the afterburner caught me almost
strictly head down. The next thing that broke through to my
consciousness was Sanych standing over me.
“Is that the case why you have so many problems? How much
flexibility or acrobatics do you have?”
“Acrobatics,” I squeezed out of myself and, with difficulty
concentrating my glance on the data of the neural interface,
sounded the figure from there. “Twelve percent.”

Sanych made some strange throat sounds, very reminiscent of
a moan of despair, and looked around. It is unfortunate to
admit, but it seems that he is looking for something hard to
finish me off. To my luck, the ground was practically empty.
After stopping the training program, all Nanites returned to
their places. Having breathed in and out a couple of times,
Sanych looked again at me.

“That’s why you are not like sane people, eh? You cannot
answer.” -He stopped me, seeing that I had already opened my
mouth to speak. “So, you go now to the doctors in the capsule.
As you recover, you will raise acrobatics to a value of at least
thirty, or better forty percent, otherwise you will perform
uncontrolled somersaults until you can’t smash your head.”

Hmm … He is right time and again. Well, judging by the
number of debuffs hanging on me right now: dizziness,
bruises, hematomas, and so on. And the points of were only
sixteen units. What a mess, I would have turned without
armor, generally scary to imagine. Having risen with difficulty
and limping on both legs, waddling like a pregnant penguin, I
headed for the exit from the range. I feel it with my ass, I have
to take Tilorn with me, let him use his medical knowledge.
And with such bad luck that I have, I supposed that I will get
out of here, constantly in such a poor condition in the near
future.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: GETTING OVER
The lid of the regeneration capsule pulled away, with a hiss,
allowing me to get out of it. How many times have I been
here? Ten times? Twenty times? One hundred times? I don’t
know, somehow I didn’t think at first about counting it, and
then … Then I became completely indifferent. I once thought
that our training in real life is just hell, but how wrong I was!
It turns out that it was just the threshold of hell. This hell is in
this reality, in seemingly unpretentious outpost No. 5-17-23, in
the ordinary-looking old man. I’ve probably learned all the
facets of pain here: broken bones, torn ligaments, injuries, and
cracks in the bones, hematomas on my whole body - I felt all
this, getting into the regeneration capsule over and over again.
The doctors have long been betting on me, namely, the period
of time after which I will get to them again.
Only two weeks have passed since I agreed to this torture of
myself, but now I’m cursing myself for such a decision. This
old man seems to have decided to try all his sadistic practices
on me.
My day began with an obstacle course, and it could have been
fine, but eighty percent of my route was at a height of five to
twelve meters above the ground. The obstacle course itself
consisted of one hundred and twenty miniature islands, which
not only were located at different distances from each other,
but also at different heights.
Moreover, the way to move from one island to another was
constantly changing. First I had to jump to different heights
and distances, run across narrow passages, try to bend
uncomfortably in a jump to slip through a small hole in the
vertical wall. It came up to the point that it was necessary to
run three meters on a vertical wall, or, hanging on thin
handrails and swaying on them, jump from one side to another.
But it was the first week, and starting from the eighth day of
my training, moving elements were added to the obstacle
course, which tried to throw me off the height. Gravitational
anomalies were added, where the force of attraction could

change dramatically in the range from one-tenth to three. I’m
even afraid to imagine what he will come up with in the third
week.
After such a kind of warm-up, infantry training began, in
which the focus was on rifles and submachine guns, which is
not surprising, especially given the list of weapons in the
Seraphim kit. But I still tried to convince Sanych to add
weapons with which I could train. In the end, I managed to get
another weapon for myself, but I didn’t even pay attention to
the fact that he agreed on condition that the choice of weapon
would remain for him.
So, it was my own initiative, after the rifle training I received,
I also had classes with twin blades. I wanted to first voice over
everything what I had on my mind, but remembering how
recently he himself had been poking his nose into a contract, I
decided not to brawl. Moreover, the instructor which was
created from nanites, who was also a sparring partner at the
same time, was very good. But now I know for sure that if I
saw an adversary with small half-meter blades, I would never
let him get closer to myself than for about ten meters … No,
better fifty … Well, fuck with it, better just a kilometer away
cover up with artillery.
So, the last point in my daily training session was doing
logical tasks and practicing self-control techniques. With this
stage in my preparation, Sanych wanted to at least slightly
increase the value of my “Mind” characteristic, and then,
according to his words, I’d occasionally behave like a child.
During these two weeks there were only three full-fledged
raids for practicing the acquired skills. But I practically rested
at that time, both physically and morally. The load in the raids
was just ridiculous compared to the Sanych test site, and my
group at such moments gave me a huge amount of
information. Who boasted about his achievements in training,
who complained that he did not get some tricks or techniques?
And I, listening to the flow of these influences, just morally
rested.
Irala surprised me most of all. I didn’t decide how to develop
her myself, leaving the choice to her. Literally in three days,

having pushed around the outpost and gathered a bunch of
different pieces of information, she chose for herself three
main directions that she liked most. And she didn’t care at all
that they didn’t really match with each other. The first thing
that interested her was programming. Ashe enjoys a big
amount of calculations in terms of volume, writing the longest
codes, and, not surprisingly, the excitement of hacking other
people’s programs, trying to bypass all the protection systems
written there.
When she told me this, I was not particularly happy, but I
didn’t mind either, because I really needed a good hacker in
my team. Another thing has surprised me a lot - during the
first raid she came with a large-caliber sniper rifle. Not only
did the rifle itself weigh almost twenty kilograms, but also the
damage force there was just mad. Of course, I forgot the fact
that she is an android with artificial muscles, so she could
shoot from it, without stopping the movement. And to my
question: how is she going to oppose the enemy in close
combat? - She silently punched a hole in the concrete wall
with her fist.
The last thing that confused me was her fascination with the
structure of various monsters, so now she was also engaged in
dealing with trophies. We decided to spend a substantial
amount of money, considering her strength and mobility, and
buy her a backpack with a twenty-fold miniaturization system
and half the weight compensation. We spent an insane amount
of money on this backpack. Moreover, we had to order it and
wait almost a week, and around five million were spent on just
“adjustments”.
But then, thanks to it, we learned one small feature of Irala there are no server restrictions on her. It turned out that this
backpack required level sixty-eighth for use; moreover, the
Server displayed the level of Irala to everyone as the twentyseventh. But she calmly put it on and without any problems
used its full functionality.
When he learned, Carefire was trying to persuade Irala to try
to launch some ancient mechanized battle armor, which,
judging by his observation was more like a six-meter-tall

robot. His main argument was that this armor requires the five
hundredth level, and there is every chance that Irala will not be
affected by this restriction. And then Sanych quickly cooled
him down, saying that he had already dismantled it into parts
to study a couple of years ago.
Carefire’s face showed all his emotions at that moment. He
seems to be such a healthy man, a military officer, and the
expression on his face, as if the child had been deprived of a
very tasty candy, which he even managed to lick a little. In
general, these two weeks were not boring for anyone. So, I
need to collect my thoughts and get out of this regeneration
capsule. In fact, I did exactly the same and immediately went
to the locker where my clothes were. After taking a couple of
steps, I noticed that my incoming mail envelope was blinking.
Sender: Alexander Carefire
Text of the letter:
Come to me, let’s have a talk.

Well, I think if they invite me, why not go, especially since I
do not have a strict training schedule. Therefore, after dressing
and leaving the medical unit, I immediately went to the
commandant’s office, where I found him nervously pointing
his finger at a working widescreen tablet.
“Finally, he came,” he began, even without saying hello.
“Though Sanych doesn’t agree, but due to a number of factors
we will have to send you to the profession earlier, we will not
finish your training.”
“How much earlier?”
“Tonight, at nineteen o’clock, the next convoy is sent to the
sixth level. You will go along with them.”
“And my guys?”

“You can take them with you, it does not play a special role,
and there is enough room for everyone in the convoy.”
“Something is shady here, Alex…”

He, confirming my words, looked away. Apparently, he
himself is not enthusiastic about this venture. Curiosity eats
me from inside. What could happen that drastically changed
their plans? Okay, I agreed to play by their rules, so in the
evening I will have to go. But a couple of points needed to be
clarified.
“Where do I need to go and how will I get there?”
“You need to get to the tenth level and go to the institute of
professions; only there can they assign you the profession of
Scurfifer. To ease the journey for you, our man will accompany
you; I will introduce you to him before you go.”
“Well, I then went to collect the rest of my group and prepare
for departure.”
“Volper, one more thing,” he did not let me leave at once, and,
hesitating a little, added, “up there, do not trust anyone!” I
was only able to raise my eyebrow, creating one big question
mark in my face. “Believe me: there is an evil place, where the
majority will quietly sell their own mother, if it is profitable for
him.”

Nodding - a sign that I understood him, I left the office. Well,
let’s see how this evil place differs from what I’m used to in
the real world. Hmm … Somehow I feel a little weird. I don’t
perceive Alfarome for a long time as just a game, I can say
that I’ve already got used to the local world, but still I call that
old world real. Ok, I’d better get ready, and there I will find
Alona and finally figure out what is happening in here.

That’s just how hard it is to calmly train and do various tasks
when the only person who is dearest to you is somewhere out
there. It may not be her, but simply a very well-made replica,
but until I check it myself, I cannot say anything for sure. I’ve
been demanding from Sanych to find out about her through
different sources of information. But he stopped himself at the
last moment.
I cannot give him such a powerful lever of influence on me. If
I tell someone that among the Psionics, my wife could be – it
will mean I will put a slave collar on myself. Even now, I am
trying to carefully choose all my words or actions with an eye
to the fact that they can pressure me through my team.
One thing is my team – the guys to whom I have become
attached to, and it is quite another matter as for Alona, for
whom I will do anything. OK, if necessary, I will go through
all nine circles of hell, but I will find her. But then … Then …
I do not know, let’s see how our trip will end.
“Wait, Alona, just wait a bit, and I’ll definitely see you again,”
I whispered, barely audible, as I moved to our room.

Everyone was already there and waiting for me. Convenient
thing is this internal mail. While talking to Carefire, I sent out
letters to everyone asking them to get ready and get together in
the rest room. Upon entering the room, I did not beat about the
bush and immediately notified everyone:
“We are leaving in the evening. Therefore, get ready quickly.
It’s time to pack up things; you have less than five hours.”
“But we have at least another month to train,” Quartz was
surprised.
“They have something to be going on, so we go at nineteen
zero-zero. We are going, as I understood, with a convoy on
duty. Although we are heading to the upper levels, you should

not relax, because you still have to get to them. Any
questions?”
“On foot or by transport?” Tilorn asked.
“By transport.”
“OK, then we can take a little more with us.”

After that, everyone crawled in different directions, starting to
collect things and pick up equipment. Only Irala immediately
went to me and asked her question of concern:
“Volper, what should I do?”
“What do you mean? Get ready just like the others.”
“Well, I thought I needed to hide from the rest.”
“You misunderstood me a little,” I began to calm her down,
“you just have to hide that you are an android, and not sit
locked up, hiding from everyone,” I smiled.
“But … but what about my behavior and reactions to certain
moments?”
“I do not understand …” I honestly admitted, simultaneously
scratching my head. “What is wrong with your behavior?”
“I try to behave like an ordinary girl, flirt a little, be shy in
certain situations … In general, I show emotions and
reactions, as any girl would do at my age … But those with
whom I communicate often react to this wrongly…”

I just froze for a moment, trying to understand what she
wanted to convey to me, and only after fifteen seconds I
slapped myself on the forehead of a guess that came to mind.

“Irala, tell me one thing. As I understand it, you are confused
by the fact that others are surprised by your almost natural
reaction to various events?”
“Well yes. For example, on the first day, Leksha was very
surprised that I was ashamed of my nakedness and shouted at
everyone: “What are you staring at?” But this is quite a
normal reaction for girls of my age.”
“Do not worry!” I smiled at her. “The problem is not your
reactions or emotions; here the problem is in those people who
know that you are an android. They just do not realize that you
can show emotions. Unfortunately, most people confuse the
concept of a robot and an android, and perceive you as a usual
programmed robot. When we come back, I’ll talk to Carefire
so that he can clear his mind of those who have access to
information about you.”
“Thanks!” With a smile she thanked.
“Irala, I hope our group treats you well?”
“No, everyone in our group treat me very well. Well, at least I
did not notice the difference between relations among the
others, in comparison with the attitude towards me …
Although …” she stumbled.
“What?”
“Yes, I just analyzed the relationship of some members of the
group, and I cannot understand some of the points in the
relationship of Castra and Quartz. They sometimes behave
rather strange…”
“It’s all simple!” I almost choked. “It is called love, I just do
not recommend getting into their relationship, they will sort it
out themselves, and otherwise it can only be worse.”
“Love? Hmm … I’ll have to look in the archives for
information about it, and then there is a feeling that they have
periodically manifested progressive disease associated with
the brain.”

Irala, continuing to mumble, went somewhere in the direction
of the arms room. Apparently, she was going to get ready. And
I was laughing. Although Irala is partially right, love is the
disease, only it affects not only the brain, but many other
things. So, okay, calm down, I myself still need to pick up
equipment for this exit. First of all, I got into the neural
interface, trying to navigate the numbers that I assigned to my
body and the “Server” gave me skills.
Name: Volper
Your Level: 26
Armor (average): 17
Life: 60/60
Hunger: 14/120
Thirst: 17/120
Fatigue: 7/60
Carry weight/load: 7.2 / 60
Specifications:
Strength - 6
Dexterity - 9
Endurance - 6
Perception - 9
Intellect - 6
Mind - 3
Luck - 8
Charisma - 5
Skills:
Handling one-handed guns - 64%
Handling firearms-machine guns - 78%
Firearms Handling - 42%

Handling automatic gunfire rifles - 62%
Firearms Handling - 69%
Handling energy one-handed pistols - 68%
Handling energy machine pistols - 77%
Handling energy shotguns - 27%
Handling automatic energy rifles - 63%
Handling energy rifles - 96%
Handling single-handed pulse pistols - 72%
Handling impulse submachine guns - 84%
Handling pulsing shotguns - 67%
Handling automatic rifles - 41%
Handling rifles - 87%
Handling thermal one-handed pistols - 23%
Handling thermal pistols, machine guns - 35%
Handling thermal shotguns - 62%
Handling thermal automatic rifles - 27%
Possession of thermal rifles - 82%
Handling knives / daggers - 54%
Handling energy knives / daggers - 62%
Sword Handling - 2%
Handling short swords - 34%
Throwing grenades - 74%
Shooting using two hands - 77%
Acrobatics - 43%
Flexibility - 17%
Combat engineering - 26%
Explosive - 32%
Pitfalls - 32%

Optical sights - 53%
Digital sighting devices - 76%
Wound dressing in the field - 12%
Fast reloading of automatic weapons - 52%
Silent movement - 48%
Search caches - 7%
Mechanical hacking of locks - 25% (further development is
blocked until confirmation of the status of a third-class
specialist)
Regeneration - 23%
Trade - 6%
Torture - 26%
Vivisection - 26%
Interrogation - 26%
Bullying - 26%
Injury - 26%
Professions: NONE
Progress:
One step beyond the edge - you looked into the face of
Death. Who you are? Are you Lucky or Loser? After all, it
was not only you who looked into the eyes of Death, but it
also looked into yours.
Executioner - There are those who are silent under any
conditions, they are just badly asked. You have proven that
if necessary, you can make anyone talk.
Android’s father - You are the one who revived the first
representative of the android race for a long time. Be
careful, not everyone will like what you did.
Awards:
Breastplate “The will to life” - a triangular sign with the
hand depicted on it, clutching a bloody heart in his fist.

Every genuine warrior, seeing this badge, will respect you
for your desire to survive. After all, the main order is to
survive in order to carry out the orders.
Classification icons: [Expand]
Killed neural network owners:
Criminals: 2
Dangerous to society individuals: 19
Killed Under license - 11
Personal account: 7,213,395 credits

It seems that there are not so many changes since I last
thoughtfully re-read this data, but a couple of new skills
appeared, and others pumped up a bit. True, I am a little sad
that Sanych forced me to restore the lost interest on the torture
skills, and even surrender to the removal of the first skill
development limit. As he said: “You never know what can be
useful, so you need to develop everything that your hands can
reach.” He knows better. The only thing that surprised me was
a new achievement. No, not the fact of achievement,
everything is clear, I am surprised by the fact that I somehow
managed to skip it.
That’s enough to stare at numbers, it’s time to pick up the
equipment, otherwise I will look stupid if the others manage to
get together, and I will sit like an idiot, staring into emptiness.
There is only one problem - I need to slightly change the
technique of working in a group, and not the group itself, but
my actions. I don’t know if I will get all the parts of the
Seraphim kit, but I think that now I’m getting used to weapons
and armor as similar as possible to this kit. Let’s start, perhaps,
with a rifle, and it was quite large, even though we tried to sell
everything unnecessary. Going to the rack, where there were
about a dozen rifles, I began to pick up one for myself. I did
not even look at the top six pieces; these were too big for Irala.
Even if you do not look at the restrictions of the level, then I
just will be carried away only by returns. I am still silent about

their weight. Of the remaining four, I immediately rejected
two others; they are on the thirtieth level, so to speak, “for
growth”. But from the remaining pair the choice was quite
difficult.
Rifle “Nightfall”
Ammunition: 9.31 x52
Combat rate: 25
Modes of shooting: single
Installed modules:
Digital sight 1.5-7х35
Foldable bipod on spring handle
Telescopic butt
Muffler
Condition: 87%
Weight: 2.95 kg
Threaded cartridge “9.31х52”
Kinetic damage: 52-64
Damage penetrating: 46-67
Condition: 100%
Cartridge weight: 10,2g
Energy Rifle “Phantom”
Ammunition: Iris battery
Combat rate: 9
Shooting mode: single
Installed modules:
Optical sight with digital display 3-12х50

Energy damage: 103-118
Thermal damage: 71-87
Ammunition: 10
Weight: 2.5 kg

On the one hand, it is a gunshot rifle for medium distances, but
lower damage. On the other hand, it is energy, with high
damage rates, but working with it is convenient only at
distances. And the rate of firing is too small. I tried it that way,
in the end I decided to take the Phantom, and for short
distances I would take two submachine guns.
Submachine gun “Ristor”
Ammunition: 8.67x28
Combat rate: 900
Shooting Modes: Automatic
Installed modules:
Muffler
Condition: 90%
Weight: 2.1 kg
Cartridge cut “8.67x28”
Kinetic damage: 35-56
Damage penetrating: 31-42
Condition: 100%
Cartridge weight: 10.2 g

Now it’s better, and I added 50-unit magazine cases and hipholsters to them. Now I feel like a real fighter. Hmm … I
completely forgot two more short swords, similar in size to the
Seraphim. Well, the armor is also very conditionally
reminiscent of the same set, and I’m almost ready. I need
twenty minutes, but no. I sighed heavily and set about
collecting my backpack. And here I was busy for a few hours:
choosing the right ammunition, which is better to take more,
which you can sacrifice in general for the total weight, packing
a couple of sets of grenades, and then the most difficult thing
was deciding which usual things I can use. I will not take the
nippers, Sargos has already packed them, but a thin nanopolymer cable needs to be taken without a doubt, I can find a
good use for it. Hmm … So, did anyone pack a camping
stove? Or will we again eat cold dry rations?
“Hey people, who packed our camping stove?”
“It seems, Quartz stuffed it into his backpack,” Tilorn’s voice
was heard.
“No, I did not take it, look into Castra’s bag.”
…
…
…

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: EVERYTHING WENT THE
OTHER WAY
We spent almost all the time that we had stocking up and as
usually happens, it turned out that we didn’t take something,
and then something extra was found. We had not long stopped
gathering when the fighter Carefire came for us fifteen
minutes before departure. But even with all this delay we were
not the last to arrive at the place where the convoy was waiting
for us.
Most of the transport vehicles were still being loaded. The
only ones from the convoy that were ready was an escort
group, whose task was transport security. Next to the seven
combat vehicles were about forty soldiers. It was to them that
the guide led us, or rather, to the two fighters standing a little
apart, who were actively discussing something while using
gestures. Approaching them, I even heard a piece of
conversation that seemed to concern my group.
“I don’t give a fuck who asks for them, I am responsible for the
security of the convoy. So, it will be either on my terms or they
will get there on foot!”
“Asmodeos, do not worry… you see they are coming to us.
Now we will solve all the questions.”

The fighter, who stood with his back to us, sharply turned
around and gave us an appraising glance. He himself was
equipped in a hydraulic exoskeleton, which was attached to
heavy segment armor. Judging by how much it should weigh
roughly, there really is not enough without an exoskeleton, and
all of its gain simply goes to compensate for the weight of the
armor. In his hands he was holding a paired automatic carbine
with two barrels, one of which, judging by the box magazine,
was a firearm, and the second barrel was an energy one, but I
couldn’t determine the class for sure, but probably it was a

pulsed one. I may be wrong. A small three-charge grenade
launcher was attached under the trunks, with a hull design that
allows you to hold onto it like a fire carrying handle.
On the left, a couple of centimeters from the edge of the
barrels, I noticed a laser target designator, the posting from
which I was reaching for the pistol grip, displaying a tactical
button under the thumb of my right hand. Mirroring him, on
the other side of the trunks, was a small lantern. Asmodeos
was now looking at us from under a darkened-up visor. This
comrade was seriously equipped, and considering how he
moved, it was clear that he was quite accustomed to this kit,
which characterizes him as a real fighter who can use all this
for the intended purpose, and not just a man with expensive
toys. When he evaluated our outfit, his face smoothed a bit and
he had a quite normal voice, which didn’t show any irritation,
asked:
“So you are my passengers for today?”
“It depends on the commander of the convoy,” I shrugged.
“Where he tells us to sit, we will sit there. And if necessary, we
can go as security guards.”
“You are welcome!” He covered little eyes instead of a nod.
“Are you in a group? Who is the commander?”
“Yes, we are in the group, I am the commander.”
“I’m sending then an invitation to the raid, as part of your
group,” he said, after some thought. “I do not know your real
skills, so I will not enter the battle group, you will go on the
armor of the third box. In case of unforeseen problems, you
will help the guys on the right flank. Everything is clear?”

Checking that everyone understood and accepting the offer to
take part in the raid, I noticed how the raid leader twisted.
Looks like he immediately looked at our professions, which
became available to him when we became part of the raid.

“Have you got radio?” He asked with great irritation. Seeing
my affirmative nodding, he added, pointing to the car with
antennas of various dimensions. “Go then to the
communication machine, let the radio operators set up the
radio frequency. Do not forget about the raid chat, there the
main command is sent. You should use the radio only in a
combat situation.”

After that, he turned around and went to the car, which was at
the side, with anti-cumulative grilles and with an open rear
part, where a machine gun was mounted on a rotary bed
sheathed with armored sheets in the manner of a rhombus.
“He didn’t like … Our professions,”, or Sargos stated or asked.
“It is his problem,” Castra shrugged. “It is better to explain
what the third box is?”
“This is a very old version that originated in the days when
armored vehicles were just beginning to appear. At that time it
resembled a rectangular box on wheels or tracks. Here, for
short, the soldiers began to call them boxes;” I decided to
make a short digression into the history of the term. “Well,
considering that our box is number three, and then we are just
looking for the third armor in the column. So, stop distracting,
and we move to the radio operators, and the column has
already begun to line up. Quartz, take care of it.”

Without further ado, Quartz darted off to the side of the radio
support vehicle. The others under my leadership moved to the
combat vehicles, which lined up in a marching column, in
search of armor, which will go under the third number. Head
machine in the column was the vehicle with a machine gun,
which I first noticed. Immediately behind it, there was a

massive armored carcass of the tank “Tyrant” complex; at
least, the system showed me that info.
Its width was about three and a half meters and it was seven
meters long, equipped with a twin eighty-four millimeter
cannon and a seventy-three millimeter automatic mortar
located at the rear of the tank tower. The fire power of the
“Tyrant” was completed with the two twelve-millimeter
machine guns to the right and left of the tower. These few tons
of armor and large caliber carried eight gravity cushions,
although they were not the only driving force. Lifting side
plates covered a few more caterpillars, which could not be
seen in detail.
Exactly the same tank was at the end of the column, providing
a rear cover. Immediately after the head “Tyrant”, our vehicle
was seen on eight wheels, each of which was a height up to
my shoulder, only this fire armor did not differ in firepower,
its main purpose was to transport infantry to the battlefield.
Only automatic twenty-six millimeter cannon protruded from a
small turret, and that was all. The only distinguishing feature
of this vehicle was the inflated hexagonal sides, each face of
which is positioned so as to ensure the maximum level of
bounce.
Glancing over the column, I noticed three more such barrels:
one was in the middle of the building, next to the radio support
machine, and the last one was almost at the very end, not far
from the “Tyrant”. The remaining space in the middle of the
column was filled with armored trucks, which had large
containers right behind the cabin. There were about two dozen
such trucks.
Going to our armored vehicle, I looked through the landing
hatch, which was still open and greeted.
“Hey, fighters! We were assigned to the third box for the raid;
I am not mistaken it is here?”
“No, you are here,” came the voice of the mechanic from
somewhere in the dimness of the front of the vehicle. “We are

the third to go. How are you feeling? Would you like to get into
the steam room or you want some breeze?”
“We were ordered to travel with the breeze. And is there
enough space in the steam room?”
“Our beautiful vehicle called Karina is designed for two dozen
people, and it is usually loaded with about a dozen, therefore
there is a lot of space,” another voice answered me. “So if
your team is fewer than a dozen, you can freely get on.”

I was seriously thinking about it. Moving inside an armored
vehicle has a number of advantages over moving on it, but
also a number of drawbacks. Hmmm … It’s a hard choice, but
still I made my decision travelling in the fresh air, not for
nothing that Asmodeos for some reason commanded “on the
armor.” And I don’t want to run into a conflict with a raid
leader at the beginning of the campaign, it’s not known how
long we will have to cooperate with each other.
“Thank you, men, for the invitation, but we would climb up.”
“Well as you know. Look only in front of the tower, don’t get
out otherwise if the crap comes out, I’ll take it off at the bend
and don’t even think about it.” The second voice was heard
answering me, who seemed to be a gunner.
“Agreed! By the way, what are the sound codes?”
“Standard ones. One sound means go, two - stop, frequent
blows - we go back, according to the pin. We will react to the
boards with a turn. On the tower from the side of the blows the enemy.”
“Got it! We then jump aboard.”

After letting my team get on, I seated Tilorn right behind the
tower in the middle of the armor. In the case of a frontal attack

he will be able to cover the rest. Behind him our girls sat on
the sides, and a little further – I was, again in the middle.
Quartz and Sargos closed our position, again on the sides. But
the Quartz’s toy had to be arranged on a small trailer attached
to the truck following us. Only did we manage to get together,
as on the walkie-talkies Quartz reconfigured, having received
the raid frequencies, the command sounded: “On the
vehicles!” - And immediately everyone ran, everyone wanted
to quickly get on their vehicle. Two machine-gunners with
light machine-guns, the same number of grenade launchers
with their own overall tubes, with various projectiles on them,
and about eight ordinary shooters with various automatic
weapons jumped into our armor.
At the very last moment, I remembered one small feature of
one of the group members and barely had time to send a
message before the start of the movement. It seems that she
raised her skill a bit; I hope that she has opened a similar
functionality.
Recipient: Castra
Text of the letter:
Can you limit the illumination of the enemy only to our
group? If so, do it urgently, so that we can avoid a number
of unnecessary questions.

Turning to me, she nodded a little, and then I felt relieved.
Sighing with relief, I began to examine the district. It
immediately struck the eyes that the movement of the column
was repeatedly worked out; everyone acted practically as a
single mechanism. The outpost fighters quickly stepped up
their defenses near the gateway, through which they were
planning to leave, and as soon as the door began to open, a
light machine-gun machine jumped out into the opening and,
making a couple of small circles in front of the gate, rushed off
into one of the paths of the road. The rest of the column

moved immediately afterwards, as soon as the gate stopped
opening, along the same route as the first vehicle, which,
apparently, worked as a head patrol. And the machine-gun that
reached it gave rise to the idea that they also cleaned the road
from various obstacles.
I wonder who should accompany us from Carefire. He said
that his man would go with us, who would help us, but I don’t
see anyone. Judging by the behavior, there are guys in armor
who regularly carry out cargo escort, and in trucks only two
drivers, who on the road must replace each other as one of
them gets tired of turning the steering wheel. In general,
without having understood the escort, I began to carefully
study the buildings that are approaching us, looking for
potential danger.
After about half an hour of tedious monotonous movement, I
heard a faint whisper from behind. Turning around, I was
shocked by the arrogance of some of my fighters. Quartz,
lounging on the ledges of the reclining armor, was whispering
something to Sargos. And he, listening attentively to him,
nodded in time to the words, evidently agreeing with the
statements. Having completely turned around and stooping a
little, I grabbed the heads of these two guys and just knocked
helmets against each other with all the force.
“Are you completely nuts?” I shouted at them. “Are you on a
trip from Earth to the Moon? Fuck, we are in the neutral zone
where almost everyone wants to either shoot you down or bite
your head off. Well, look around carefully!”

I understand perfectly well that it is unbearably boring to stare
into a monophonic landscape, but let them pay attention better
and control normally than provoke an unexpected attack. And
we have repeatedly seen that there are often creatures that can
easily have a bite to eat. The next four hours we drove without
any incident, almost dying of boredom. Most of the smaller
monsters were shot at long-range approaches. Already, even

on the radio, the team went through, that in an hour we will
arrive at a stronghold, where we will have a rest until morning.
Almost everyone relaxed, even from the inside of the armor,
on which we rode, jokes and bursts of laughter came
occasionally.
I also relaxed, glancing idly around, mostly just studying the
architecture and memorizing various interesting details in the
construction plan. The only thing that saved me from losing
the last bit of vigilance is the oddity in the abrupt change of
plans of Carefire and Sanych, and also the fact that for some
reason their people did not come to accompany us, well, or
came, but did not tell us about it. And it’s somehow strange to
leave late in the evening, by using a proven, but rather
dangerous route.
A scattering of red dots manifested itself literally a second
before the energy beam slammed into the head Tyrant. But the
mechanics did their business perfectly well and managed to
activate the energy barrier, which bloomed with bright colors
from such a load. It was possible to save the vehicle, only by
inertia it was brought to the first floor of the building on the
left. I didn’t have time to ponder what happened to the tank,
because I was already yelling like a mad hare:
“Tilorn, your shield! Contact at eleven hours angle!”

We were like scattered peas, rolled off the starboard side of the
armor, hiding behind its body from enemy fire. The last one to
jump off was Tilorn, in the process of flying, extinguishing the
shield.
“Seventy six.”

Immediately he announced, landing. And Quartz, instantly
slipping between us, jumped behind Tilorn and began to
change exhausted batteries. Irala, jerking a little forward,
leaned out from behind the nose of the vehicle and
immediately made two shots at random from her monstrous
rifle. At the same time, the airborne landing hatch lay back,
from which fighters fell, taking up positions for defense.
Around us, the tympanic membranes of the multi-caliber
cannon were practically tearing. Quickly glancing around the
battlefield and scatter marks on the tactical map, he continued
to distribute commands.
“Castra, Irala, running for three hours angle, I need light and
fire!”

The girls almost synchronized off their feet, trying to drop into
the building to our right, under the cover of leaning out Tilorn
with his shield. I, retreating a step away from the armor
covering us, gave a couple of short bursts of positions, which
were highlighted in orange due to the passive Castra, which
was superimposed on my passive observation. Judging by the
experience that had flown in, I also managed to shoot
someone.
“We are moving slowly! We’re going to break through on the
route M-39. Moving under the cover of equipment shields!”
The order came to me in the general radio broadcast.

Tilorn dragged two burned fighters past me, holding the shield
with one hand, grabbing them in an armful of evacuation loops
with the other. At the same time, the mini-map was lit with
even more red markings at various distances.

“Castra, observation! Irala, cover up. You work only as a last
resort, do not show your position.”
“A plus.”
“Roger that.”

While running, I switched to a common channel of the raid
and scream there with a foul language, simultaneously firing
back under the cover of barely moving armor.
“Asmodeos! I am Volper, we see about ninety goals. We’re
giving lights on the mini-map. How did you take it?”
“Accepted clearly. Hell no, nothing is understandable, but
accepted clearly.”

Tilorn, having finished rendering first aid to the injured
fighters, whom he threw into the hatch still open, jumped up to
me and shoved a combat cocktail in the armpit. I, having
switched to the group channel, started distributing commands
again.
“Castra, light the whole raid, two minutes and change
position. Sargos, provide surprises so that the guests do not go
to our girls.”
“One minute …” came the voice of Sargos, and then he
continued in the general air, “from nine to ten hours … Close
your eyes … Undermining!”

Three buildings to our left between the third and seventh
floors just flashed a bright flash of an explosion, almost ceased
to exist, while destroying a dozen and a half enemy positions.

My eyes almost jumped out. Turning to Sargos, I wanted to
ask “what was it?”, but noticed how he equips his two
revolvers with huge drums with no less large cartridges, and
remembered how he himself recommended that he try to
charge explosives instead of bullets.
In the meantime, we stopped sluggish movement, snapping at
each other. Asmodeos barely had time to distribute commands
on the radio, sending small groups of one or another
coordinates. From the moment Castra gave backlighting to the
entire raid, less than a dozen seconds passed, but he had
already managed in such a short time, accurately knowing the
location of the enemy, to suppress a quarter of its firing points
with his fighters, and with every second the number of
destroyed enemies only grew. It is regrettable, but we have not
been without losses. The lines of the four fighters completely
grayed out, showing that they had gone for another replication,
and about a dozen other fighters had miserable parts of their
lives, but between them two raid medics and Tilorn, who,
under the cover of their shield, were pulling the heaviest right
out from under the massive shelling. Quite surprisingly,
Quartz, who finally transferred his robot to combat mode and
covered the last cluster of opponents with a missile strike from
the mounted volley fire systems attached to the robot, put the
finishing point.
I had a couple of seconds to realize that the main battle was
over, and the shooting sounds began to subside. Glancing at
the neural interface, I was surprised to see that the battle took
only seven minutes. On the radio, sharp, short commands
began to be replaced by more detailed orders, sending fighters
in all directions to clear up the surrounding buildings. But the
extreme order given by Asmodeos even surprised me a little.
“We are clearing up, and then occupying all-round defense,
building “Deedra”. We’re stuck for at least a couple of hours.
The reinforcement group will be in forty minutes, look, don’t
hit them by mistake.”

Well, about the reinforcement group, everything is clear, most
likely they were called from the defense group, where we had
to stop to rest, and we didn’t get to them yet. But the fact we
are stuck here for such a long time was incomprehensible to
me. In a couple of movements, I sat on the armor, using
corrugated chutes of the wheel instead of steps. Straightening,
I looked around the entire column. Hmmm … It’s not that we
got off easily, as I initially thought from my position. The
heels of the trucks stood firmly, forming gaps in the
continuous column. Also, near the head “Tyrant”, which is still
half stuck out of the building, the mechanics were running
around. But a little smoke, rising in the middle of the column,
seemed to show that there also suffered a radio support
vehicle, or armor, which covered the radio operators.
“Volper,” said a voice practically behind my back.

Turning around, I noticed that Asmodeos was standing on the
broken part of the road, practically near the cab of the armored
personnel carrier. Having returned both submachine guns to
their places, I, sticking to the armor with my left hand, neatly
jumped down beside him.
“I came to you …,” he began, waiting for me to straighten up
after the jump, “to say thank you.” If it were not for your guys,
we would lose at least half, and most likely, the whole
convoy.”
“Not at all.”
“Well, seriously, if it were not for your highlight of most
positions, we would not be able to quickly navigate and, most
likely, by the time they figured out the next position, they
would already lose some of the fighters. By the way, how did
you manage to do that?”

“Dear friend, we are smarter than you, aren’t we?”
“Yes, you are. Thanks, anyway.”

He was interrupted by abruptly rearing ground under us. We
barely had time to bounce back, as the enemy in robotic armor
jumped out of the opening on the backpack engine, about one
and a half times larger than an ordinary person. We, together
with Asmodeos, bounced in the same direction literally in a
synchronized jump, and both managed to turn the body in a
jump so that the blow to the ground fell on the back. That’s
just the difference we had in that Asmodeos almost
immediately opened fire on a new enemy, when I only had
time to pull my weapon out of my holster. Neither he nor I,
who joined the shooting, achieved anything. All the bullets
just ricocheted from the enemy’s armor, but we simply didn’t
have anything more powerful, and there were no large-caliber
fighters around.
This robotic shit turned to us, holding a heavy multi-beam ray
machine gun, on which the barrels had already begun to spin.
An invisible blow at the side made it shake, then again and
again. On the fifth jerk on the right side, it had a large hole
approximately in the area of the pilot’s head inside, and the
final sixth jolt simply flunked this armor, which had ceased to
show signs of movement. Asmodeos, jumping, spun around
trying to figure out who was able to overwhelm our opponent.
And I relaxed, lay back on the pavement and loud enough for
the raid leader to hear, went on the air of the group.
“Irala, thank you! Change your position and take Castra with
you. Sargos, keep them safe. Tilorn, grab Quartz under your
wing, cover him, and the robot covers you.”

In response, immediately followed a friendly confirmation of
receiving the order. Asmodeos just stood there and shook his

head, looking at me.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: I NEED TO GET TO THE SIXTH
LEVEL
Asmodeos did not say anything, just urgently sent two groups
of three people into the resulting opening in the pavement to
inspect and clean up technical tunnels. If the column had not
stopped and this robotic fighter jumped out somewhere near
the middle, most likely, we would have lost most of the
machines. But I cannot understand the goals of this attack.
Absolutely everything indicated that our convoy should have
simply been destroyed, starting with the alignment of ambush
positions, ending with the use of mainly large-scale weapons.
Irala had shot dead the shooters with a handheld laser gun.
Well, at least the crew was experienced and managed to
transfer all the power to the shields. If they had time to
recharge, more lightly armored vehicles could not resist such a
shot. But the second heavy armor just would not have time to
break through here. So, we can say that we were just lucky
several times.
The reinforcement, strangely enough, arrived literally in time
of the deadline that was rather surprising. Moreover, they also
brought repair equipment with them, which made it possible to
return almost all vehicles back to work, except for a
completely burned-down vehicle with a machine gun, which
played the role of a scout. We got to the post where we were
supposed to stay for a rest at about four in the morning, so my
guys almost fell down exhausted on beds and immediately fell
asleep, except for Irala, who sat down on duty at the entrance
to the room, cleaning her rifle.
I wanted to sleep too, but Asmodeos asked me to talk a little.
Having departed to the far part of the post fenced off with a
concrete wall, he took off his helmet, and with gestures asked
to disconnect the walkie-talkie, which I immediately did.
“At first, I wanted to ignore Carefire’s request,” he began, and
my eyebrows went up. “To be honest, I thought that you were

just noobs, who somehow gained the support of the
commandant, but considering how you helped us out today, I
regret very much that I thought so.”
“So what are you, a player?”
“Well yes.”
“And the others too?”
“Only a few people… But this is not important. The question is
that today’s attack was extremely non-standard and this
worries me very much.” I did not interrupt him, waiting for
him to get to the essence of the issue which he wanted to
discuss with me. “After thinking carefully, I came to the
conclusion that the only change from this being a standard
convoy is your group, and there is a very big chance that they
just wanted to destroy you. Well, the convoy is under my
command. Considering that the level in my escort grows
extremely well, as does the reputation with some outposts, it is
extremely important for me to avoid additional problems for
the convoy. But for the assignment of Carefire, he wants me to
take you to the sixth level and hand you over to a certain
person for a very good reward. Now I have a dilemma, what
should I do with you?”
“What can you offer?” I doubt that if I had no way out, he
would have started this conversation altogether.
“There are several options, but I would like to offer you the
one, which, in my opinion, is now the most good for your
group…” having interrupted for five seconds, and collecting
his thoughts, he continued. “I don’t know what is going on, but
given the power of your group at such low levels for that, and
the reward that I was offered by Carefire,” when he saw that I
opened my mouth to reply, he interrupted me. “Do not say
anything. I am experienced though and I understand that
sometimes it is better not to know some things, but at the same
time I clearly see that it is extremely important for you to get
to the destination safe and sound. Therefore, after six hours,
the convoy moves along its route, and I pretend that you are in
the center of the column. Forty minutes after us, the TBM will
leave the post for a planned detour of the controlled territory,

and quite accidentally there should be six unregistered
passengers. Did I clearly explain my thoughts?”

After getting an affirmative nod from me, he put on his helmet
and went about his business. And I looked at him as he was
leaving and was trying to understand what made him do that.
If you look at the situation from the point of view of the
ambush that had been staged, solely hunting for my group, he
decided to make his convoy as bait for the enemy, sending us
by another vehicle. There is no need to fear the loss of
personnel, anyway they will be alive in the replicator after
twelve hours, but the loss of equipment and cargo, is really
bad. What did Carefire promise him that he was ready to take
such risks?
I hope he will be able to get us to the sixth level, keeping the
convoy. Having sighed from the fact that it turned out to be a
rather unpleasant situation, I went to sleep, because my team
are fast asleep, and I find myself wondering where. But Ira did
not let me go to bed.
“Volper, can you spare me a second?”
“Of course!” Here she likes to choose moments for
conversation, when I almost falling asleep. “Something
happened?”
“No, I just cannot understand a couple of issues, and in the
databases where I connected, there is no explanation.”

After removing the backpack and rifle, I leaned them against
the wall and sat down beside it. I was prepared, if necessary,
for a long dialogue. If Irala does not understand something,
this is not a joke. Indeed, despite the fact that she has existed
for a very long time, she didn’t have real communication, and
if at some point she misunderstood and accepted it as a

standard, she will start to behave accordingly, regarding it as a
norm of the society.
“What exactly is incomprehensible to you?”
“Why do people kill each other? You have the same numerous
opponents who are trying to reduce your population, and with
a natural birth you have problems too. It seems that it would
be logical to join forces and act together, but no! For some
reason you destroy yourself.”
“Hmm … You asked a very good question …” taking off the
helmet and leaning back, leaning back against the wall, I
began to look at the ceiling, trying to choose the right words to
answer it. “You know, honestly, I don’t really understand it
myself, but I will try to explain to you a little. We have been
trying to find the answer to this question almost all the time of
the existence of mankind, and there is still no definite answer.
But, in my opinion, the problem is that people have emotions
and desires. On the one hand, these two things bring a lot of
positive things into our lives, but, in contrast, they bring a lot
of bad things.” I stopped to take a sip from a flask taken from
a pouch and Irala listened attentively in the meantime.
“Therefore, there are people who absolutely do not pay
attention to the consistency, correctness or legitimacy of their
actions because they want immediate benefits at the expense of
other people. That’s why, it is easier to kill a person and
because of this get some material benefits for you than to work
for a long time.”
“Hmm … then, it turns out that all people are potentially
dangerous for their own species?”
“It’s not so easy here…”
“Why?”
“Because people with positive emotions and desires, on the
contrary, try to help our species.”
“So you have some kind of balance in society,” said Irala
thoughtfully. “But then how can you determine who helps the
development of the species, and who just stops it?”

“Here I cannot give you an answer, almost every person needs
to be dealt with individually: their goals and the way in which
he achieves these goals” we both fell silent, each of us
thinking about his own ideas.
“I see!” Irala said after a couple of minutes. “You are like a
program, where each person is part of the code. Sometimes the
code improves the performance of the program, sometimes it
slows it down, but there are times when an error occurs in the
code and it starts for one reason or another to destroy other
codes or even turns into a virus. If the broken piece of code is
not removed, it may eventually begin to threaten the entire
program.”
“Um … well, you could say that.”
“Why did you talk about emotions, desire and other things?”
“Hmm … I tried to explain how I understand it.”
“Thank you,” she smiled at me, going back to cleaning her
rifle.

I just had to pick up my things and get to my bed. Damn, it’s a
shame when you start talking about something divine, and you
are given the simplest explanation. So you can get an
inferiority complex. Well, at least, Irala understood me
correctly; otherwise one could get confused in my
explanations. With such a sad thought, I fell asleep without
even undressing.
In the morning we got into armor, which was supposed to go
in the middle of the column, but when the column began to
rebuild into marching order, our armor, waiting for its turn to
leave, stopped near a small extension where we jumped out of
armored vehicles covered from the rest. Having sat there for
about forty minutes, trying not to make any noise and not
breathing at all, we heard the curse of the mechanical drive,
which braked near our extension and jumped out to check
something in the equipment.

Again, under the cover of armor, we quietly got into the TBM.
Well, almost imperceptibly. The gunner, who noticed us,
simply turned his head in the opposite direction, pretending
that he was interested in something there. The only small
disadvantage was that the TBM was not designed for so many
people, so we had to go tight to each other. The only ones who
enjoyed it were Castra and Quartz, who, would have thought,
were near in the farthest corner, and pressed against the
armored wall by the others. Yeah, and the robot had to be left
in the trailer column. Of course, it is a pity for such a weighty
argument, but even Quartz recognized the need for such a risk
in order not to lose it.
No, I was mistaken; a small amount of space is not a small
minus, but a HUGE! I mentally cursed at Asmodeos in every
possible way. Five fucking hours we spent like canned food,
where every unevenness of the road gave way to painful blows
to the body parts, which were pressed to the armor. But now,
finally, this torment was over and we stopped.
“Get out,” came the voice of the driver. “We are a kilometer
away from the elevator to the sixth level, we cannot go any
closer, otherwise we will be noticed from the post near it, and
we, in theory, should be on patrol. Asmodeos asked me to
convey that the person upstairs himself would approach you;
the main thing is to take the thirty-second elevator.”
“Thank you, guys.”
“Not at all, we are very well paid for our job.”

Getting out of the TBM vehicle, we immediately began to
knead the stiff limbs. The crew, showing us the direction to the
elevator, turned the vehicle around and jerked at full speed in
the opposite direction, bouncing merrily on uneven spots. It
turns out that they were still carrying us carefully, because
now they almost turned over on especially large bumps.

“You are nuts!” Quartz voiced the general opinion, but just
what kind of envy in his voice? It will be necessary to make a
reminder for yourself - don’t let him sit behind the wheel,
otherwise it will kill us.
“Why are you chilling out? We still have to stomp a kilometer,
so we ran the ammunition and marched to the aim.” - I excited
the whole group.

Having passed just a few blocks, we went on a wide road that
led straight to the elevator. When we saw it, we even stopped
for a few seconds - this structure was monumental. Eight
hundred meters ahead of us, to the very top of the level, a
slightly curved vertical metal wall stretched across the entire
space of our visibility. And the buildings to the right and left
allowed us to look at six hundred meters of space. Without
hesitation, I decided to climb the nearest building higher.
Shooting on the way a few not very dangerous monsters, we
climbed about fifty floors, from where we could already
completely cover the metal structure with a glance. Sargos
from this spectacle already whistled.
“I wonder how wide this pipe is in diameter.” Quartz asked
thoughtfully.
“And why did you think that this was the pipe?” Tilorn
questioned.
“Because the cars are going into it, and once they are in, it
means it is hollow, and once hollow, and then it’s a pipe.”
“It’s not a pipe, it’s a central elevator,” said Irala. “At the
same time it is the central bearing support pillar, which runs
through all the levels of Alfarome. It has a diameter of three
kilometers six hundred meters, has seventy-two loading and
unloading locks; thirty-six for ascent and thirty-six for
descent. Every five minutes, three pairs of elevators begin to
move, alternately counterclockwise, which greatly helps
movement between levels. After all, each elevator individually

starts once an hour. But at the same time, general movement of
elevators is constant, with a difference of five minutes, and if
you don’t want to wait an hour near one elevator, you can start
moving clockwise to those elevators that will start in the near
future. To navigate which lift is soon to be launched, there are
two color signals above the doors of each one: green means
that the lift will start in the next fifteen minutes; yellow
meaning the elevator starts in the next thirty minutes.”
“How do you know?” Quartz inquired.
“This info is in the public database.”
“Maybe then you will also say what material this shit is made
of? After all, it can withstand a huge weight.”
“Unfortunately, the material from which the central support
column is made is unknown,” she began talking in a bossy
manner. “It is not known, and no one has yet managed to
deform, heat or freeze it. On scraps of preserved information,
the Alfarome frame was created by another alien race from
unknown materials and donated to humanity. Why, what race
was it and what goals they pursued - is unknown.”
“So, stop talking blah-blah-blah, we still need to get to the
elevator, and then the posts covered them at a distance of two
kilometers into a tight ring, although it would be more
practical to retreat a couple of hundred meters and form posts
there, a smaller area would have to be protected.”
“This is because of the server. At a distance of a kilometer
around the central column, the Server does not allow the use
of weapon and cause harm to anyone by any other action. And
somehow it is necessary to defend from monsters, so the
perimeter of the defense was carried out with a reserve of two
kilometers in order to be able to maneuver in battle.”
“Again the piconites?” I decided to clarify.
“Yeah.”
“So let’s get moving, we have to look for the thirty-second
elevator. Or did you decide to have a picnic here, until a
breakthrough of monsters starts?”

Having quickly descended, in six minutes we reached the
nearest post, where we were met rather indifferently. Well, I
thought of the group of people cornered. Only the officer on
duty glanced at our heads, apparently, checking if we have red
levels, and he said clearly to us:
“Discharge the weapon, put the fuses off, and remove the fuses
from the grenades. The use of weapons is strictly prohibited
here, with the exception only for shooting mutants. In case of
violation weapons, units of the SVF will shoot dead anyone
without understanding who is right and who is to be blame.
You can go now.”

Only now did I notice that all the fighters there had three
letters SFV. We did not stay for long, we only inquired in
which direction the thirty-second elevator was and, having
received instructions as to the direction, moved in the direction
we needed. We walked a little relaxing, while staring at the
sides, as if the farmers from the colonial planet trapped in the
metropolis. There already raged real life. The first kilometer
we passed stood out more or less inhabited territories and a
large number of people, after the next post at the onekilometer mark, where electronic seals were placed on our
weapons, although I didn’t see any sense in them, because the
Server will not give anyway use weapons, life was bustling.
There are shops, office buildings, luxury casinos every
hundred meters and brothels every fifty. Elite restaurants that
serve meat, edible, obtained by raiders, side by side with poor
eateries, where for a small amount of credits were given a
portion of the nutrient substance. I am not used to such
crowded places, when at every level of sidewalks a crowd of
people are almost clinging to each other with their elbows; the
metropolis is a multi-million-people street at rush hour. Only
this rush hour lasted here 24/7.

The most striking thing was that we didn’t see any children, at
all. And it was very depressing. But, on the other hand, it is
quite understandable - with such an attitude towards children
at the government level, no one will let them into this
potentially dangerous zone.
“Irala, is there a kilometer safe zone on each level?” I decided
to clarify the issue.
“No, only at the fifth level. Earlier, before the start of recovery
of the fifth level, a similar zone was in at the sixth level, but
when a certain mass of people accumulated on the fifth level,
the Server moved it to the fifth level.”

I would not be surprised if it is so crowded here precisely
because of indulgences in this area. And then I somehow did
not notice here the various offices or enterprises. Pretty often
there are a lot of entertainment centers for every person and
shops selling almost anything, if only there were enough loans.
But no, I was mistaken; there are also medical centers for the
installation of various implants. In general, everything is
aimed at getting money from various adventurers who are
fighting on the fifth level. Already when we were near the
door to the thirty-second elevator, which was to arrive in
twenty minutes, the reason for installing electronic seals came
to me. Yes, you cannot shoot at someone here, but nobody has
canceled indirect damage, damage to infrastructure elements
or just property damage.
“It feels like I’ve been in the garbage bin,” Castra shrugged
her shoulders.
“What happened?” I immediately responded.
“How to explain this … As soon as we passed the first posts,
there was a feeling that the bulk of society was around us.

Their bad behavior and so many drunken people out there…
Almost everywhere speak here on caps lock voices, constantly
turning to slang or obscene phrases. In general, there is the
feeling that I was in the slums of human garbage.”
“Do not worry, let’s go up, I hope it will be a little better
there,” I decided to calm her down.

But in the meantime, I was thinking about her words. Of
course, I did not notice so many details, but only now did I
notice that almost all the way I did not remove my hand from
the grip of a submachine gun. Our whole way was quite
intense. And women are known to be more sensitive to their
surroundings. Well, now we just went through this semblance
of civilization. Not to fall into sin here, it will be necessary to
avoid having to stay in such a place.
I wonder how Asmodeos is. I hope he got there without any
problems, and we made a mistake about the fact that the
ambush was for the destruction of the convoy. And somehow
it is unpleasant to feel guilty that the reputation of an adequate
man could suffer just because of me. Behind me, it clanked
softly, announcing that the indicator light above the elevator
changed color to green, which means we have fifteen minutes
to load. Quickly entering a forty-forty-meter-wide room, I
found absolutely nothing in it — a simple box, nothing
unnecessary at all. A horn signal came from behind. And the
driver shouted with curses.
“Why are you standing there, stand next to the wall, you f
*****. Otherwise I will run over you *****!”

I wanted to throw a grenade into his cabin so badly, or rather a
couple of grenades that my hand reached out to the pouch

where the grenades were without fuses, but Castra grabbed my
hand and dragged it to the wall. Looking around, I noticed that
really everyone who is not in transport clings to the walls,
leaving the center of the elevator to various vehicles.
“Thank you,” I was grateful to Castra.
“Not at all, my commander. We know you very well! You can
start a slaughter right here in the elevator cabin … The
laboratory was enough for us.” It seemed like she answered
jokingly, but by the intonation of the voice I was not sure
whether she was joking or not.
“No, no, no, I don’t need a second robot yet. Yes, and after the
last events, I was not eager to share my feelings with each
other.” Quartz joined in with his cheerful voice.”

It was such a tragic situation, but everyone was smiling.
Whatever you may say, but continuous battles really change
the psyche, and the fact that some people could remember the
past events with a shudder, now they can recall those events
with a smile. And now, one by one, they began to recall
various funny moments from joint raids, occasionally causing
outbursts of laughter in our small company. When the elevator
lifted us to the sixth floor and let us out of its cabin, we could
not believe our eyes, we were too accustomed to the general
chaos around, and the view of the entire city made a shocking
impression on us.
“Hey Volper!” I heard a familiar voice from the side.
“Hi, Litara, I have not seen you for ages!” I smiled at her. “I
understand you are meeting us?”
“You got it right,” she blushed slightly in response.
“Well then, tell us everything.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: OUR JOURNEY
Since then, she has hardly changed, although our meeting was
brief, but for some reason I was very glad to see her. There are
people who you like from the first minutes of conversation. I
was a little hasty with the conclusion that she has not changed.
If you look closely, you can notice a slightly rounded bump.
“Can I congratulate you on such a special occasion?” I asked,
looking at her external changes.
“Yes!”

It seems that one short word, but with such tenderness it was
said that it was immediately becoming clear - Litara is now
one of the happiest women in the entire Universe. And the
way she pressed her hands to her tummy and began to stroke it
lovingly, showed that, most likely, she would become an
excellent mother. My face involuntarily stretched into a smile.
“Dear Lita, I am very happy for you! I’m glad” and then
frowned sharply. “Wait, how did they even let you in here
being pregnant?”
“What’s the big deal?”
“Um … Well, you have the kind of tremulous attitude towards
pregnant women by the government..”
“Well, we are not kept under lock and key,” she laughed
loudly, “you, apparently, misunderstood the way things are
done here. We are provided with medical specialists, finance,
and additional opportunities. But how to use everything our
concern.”
“Hmm, sorry, I really misunderstood a little.”

“And it is good, because otherwise there would be too many
tragedies,” she said sadly. “And so, for those whose children
are still in the womb have undergone the level of mutation,
after which they are transferred to the category of mutants,
there is still a chance to escape to the lower levels.”

Tilorn quirked deviously, although he tries not to use curses
with us, but sometimes he says something abusive. And I
finally realized where on the fifth level weak psionics come
from. With such a rare chance to have a child, if the fetus is in
the womb due to a genetic failure, it receives sufficiently
serious deviations from the standards to be recognized as a
mutant. In this case, the parents only have two options: either
go to surrender to the authorities, or run to the lower levels. I
suspect that most people choose the second option.
The problem is that they know absolutely nothing about life
there, and even more so - how to get to the psionic bases. Here
you have a steady increase in illegal residents on the fifth
level, and most of them with small children in their arms. How
many of them there are killed by monsters, fall into the hands
of different psychos who cut them up to sell parts of the body
… I do not want to even think about it, and I already clentch
my teeth. So, I need to calm down: one, two, three … nine,
ten. It seems to let me go. At least, the mystery of the
appearance of Ellie in the clutches of those thugs is practically
revealed. How much did her family survive among the
monsters? It is terrible to even imagine. Okay, stop thinking
about the injustice of local life.
“Let’s not talk about sad things. Better explain where we are
going and how we can get there?”
“Oh, yeah,” she said in a blush. “First you need to keep your
large weaponry in the store. At the sixth and higher levels,
openly carrying of weapons is prohibited, and starting from
the ninth level, even for concealed weapons carrying, a license
is required.”

“Then take us to your store.”

Nodding in response, she headed somewhere deep into the
buildings. Literally in three minutes we were already standing
in a small room in front of a clerk, who was typing something
on a holographic keyboard, and the entire surface of the table
was one big screen, which was lined up in sectors and marked
with various color markings. Glancing over this scheme, I was
slightly surprised by the size. If I understood correctly, he was
showing now on this screen the layout of the storage rooms,
which occupied several nearby buildings.

“I’m all ears,” he looked up from his keyboard and stared at
us expectantly.
“We need a weapons repository,” Lita started the
conversation.
“Dimensions? The duration?”
“The room is three by three …” Litara began, glancing at us,
but I intervened.
“Ten by ten, and that next was a freight elevator, with a
carrying capacity of at least three tons, with an access ramp
for large transport.”

Litara turned and looked at me in surprise, but said nothing.
Well, I hope that Asmodeos will take the robot, but he needs to
be placed somewhere. I doubt that we will be allowed to walk
with it through the streets. The clerk quickly entered the
parameters of my request and a long list popped up in front of
him. Quickly running his eyes over it, he summarized:

“Now there is one hangar on the first floor, a couple of hours
ago it was emptied. It is larger in size: ten by fifteen meters.
But it has access directly to the first tier of roads and a very
wide access road.”
“What’s the price?” Somewhere there is a trick in here. It
feels like he is trying to persuade me to rent it, and it usually
does not happen just like that.
“Three hundred and twenty per hour.”
“What’s the catch?” It’s strange … and the price isn’t too
high.
“From the first to the fifth floor rent is valid for a period of at
least seven days.”

I have felt relief - the guy is good at doing his job. He seems to
be getting a commission from the amount of turnover per shift,
so he tries to please. Looking at Litara, I sent him an
affirmative nod showing that the terms and conditions are
quite acceptable for me.
“Well, we take it. How do we get access?”
“A standard set of electronic locks that you can customize for
your own needs, including a digital custom code, electronic
key, DNA analysis and retina eye. Everything is connected to
the Server database. If you fail to appear within forty-eight
hours after the expiration of the paid period, the Server will
transfer control over access to the premises to our employee.
And all that is stored there becomes the property of the
corporation.”
“Will the lease term be extended?”
“Yes, for the time being you do not need to personally appear.
Our corporation has a license from the Server to work through
the neural interface, and you can extend the lease directly
through it.”

“Agreed!”

Typing something with his fingers over the keyboard, the clerk
quickly booked me this hangar, and then filled in the contract,
simultaneously clarifying with me a lot of information such as
my identification number, the main place of replication, etc.
As a result, we had another forty minutes to re-read the
contract from the Server, in which there were sixty thousand
characters - so scrupulously there were stated different force
majeure cases, rights and obligations of each of the parties to
the contract. Of course, I don’t know local laws so much, but
at first glance I did not find any pitfalls in the contract.
Therefore, with my clear conscience, I signed the contract and
paid for it, after which I received a seventeen-digit access code
for the hangar gate.
Reaching the gate of my temporary possession, I almost
started stumbled. Before our eyes did not appear the gate, but
only the name for the gates. Well, more precisely, the gates
were ok; they were just automatic shutters, in which the
segment of thickness reached a maximum of three millimeters.
If someone has a desire to open it, then such protection of my
things, unfortunately, is very doubtful.
“Why do you need such a big hangar?” Litara asked a
question to me.
“I have to put the combat robot somewhere.”
“What kind of a robot?”
“Ask Quartz, I don’t know anything about their models.”
“I’m not talking about that. Where did you get the robot?”
“Well … I just happened to get it.”

Opening the hangar, I sighed heavily. Although the dimensions
corresponded to the stated ones, unfortunately, it was
absolutely empty. At all empty. Although in the far corner
there was an abandoned wrap from a ration of dry food. Thank
you for at least the lighting, it’s quite good.
“Lita, is it hard to get a license to carry a weapon with you?”
“It is difficult to get. It is issued only to a limited circle of
people, and not only the level is important, but also your legal
status.”
“What will happen if we are caught with weapons?” Quartz
added his question.
“Well, the patrol can confiscate it, and also assign you a fine.”
“I do not understand …” I shook my head. “And there is no
criminal liability?”
“No, there is not. The authorities of each of the levels decide
upon the fines.”

It’s good that at that moment I was looking the other way;
otherwise Litara would have been scared by the sight of my
grin. So … And what do we get? At levels there are internal
regulations that simply restrict the freedom of ordinary
citizens. At the same time, individuals with a fairly large
account with money are likely to ignore such restrictions, and
their protection seems to have the necessary legal status. Then
there are a couple of options, but we’ll leave it as a last resort.
“Ok. We unload all the unnecessary, large-scale weapons
incompletely disassembled and everything small in Irala’s
backpack. Castra, we need civilian clothes, so look for a shop
while we are here dealing with weapons. Quartz, change the
access codes to the hangar and contact Asmo. If he brings the
robot here, let him leave it in this hangar. Any questions?”

“What about the explosives?” asked Sargos.
“We take only those that fit in the pockets,” a little thought, I
replied. “By the way, Lita, do we have to travel a long
journey?”
“Around ten hours. In twenty minutes, the car that was
ordered will arrive and take us to the elevator right away, and
at the tenth level – it is only five minutes from there to the
center of the professions.”
“Ok! Guys, did you all hear? We have twenty minutes for all
things, so we need to get a move on.”

At the same time, I myself began to disassemble the “Zarya”
into the main elements, so that they could pass into the
receiver of the backpack Iraly. No matter how we hurried, we
didn’t make it before the car arrived. And it was due to the
most usual reason - Castra with civilian things returned
simultaneously with the arrival of the car. I had to change
clothes in a hurry. I got black pants made of coarse material, a
black tight jacket and a raincoat that resembles a leather one,
which is mid-length, and is also black, by the way. Looking
around at the others, I noticed that they had all the things in
black.
“Castra, do you like black?”
“Do you want to walk around in clothes of cheerful rainbow
colors?”
“No, I just asked,” I immediately went back down, imagining
this color scheme.
“There is nothing to be indignant about! And then next time I
will choose a raincoat with pink bear cubs!” - From such a
statement, even my eye began to twitch. “Yes, yes, they had
such a raincoat there!”
“That’s all, I understood, I was wrong. In general, you rock!”
Having checked out that practically everyone dressed in new

things, I sent the command tone. “Ok! We laughed a little and
that’s enough, it’s time for us to set off!”

Our car turned out to be a mini bus with a dozen seats. The
minivan was a non-descript dirty gray color. The only thing
that I noticed was a set of anti-gravs running along the lower
edge of the body. And it was despite the fact that the wheels
were also present. If we take into account that at the sixth level
we only came across wheeled vehicles, then we get a rather
expensive taxi.
When we were seated, the driver, who was separated from us
by a transparent partition, silently started the car. As soon as
we were on one of the main roads, almost all our team looked
out of the windows, well, just like tourists. Although, I must
admit, there was nothing to look at. No, there was not any
architectural beauty, as well as something supertechnologically advanced for people of our time. But there was
a solid mosaic of high-tech devices adjacent to the terrible
rusty rarities. I, probably, would not even be surprised if a
prehistoric gasoline car came from round the next corner. So
awkward was the picture of this mixture of technologies.
So we overtook a pickup truck, in which I noticed two gaps in
the sides, moreover, eaten by rust. And after this we were
overtaken by a sporty type of passenger car with streamlined
forms on anti-grav chassis and, having slightly wagged, goes
on the rise, rearranging already in the air to the second tier of
roads, which is thirty meters above us, while clearly violating
traffic rules, considering how many drivers are beginning to
press the horns.
This was seen everywhere around us, even several jet cars
flew by with a system of vertical takeoff. Running a glance
over all the transport in my area of visibility, I realized that it
was divided into two categories. Either these were wheeled
vehicles in a poor state - ninety percent of all the vehicles- or
high-tech models that already shine in the glare of street

lamps. Some kind of transitional models could not be
observed.
Pedestrians deserved special attention. I thought Castra was
just joking about a raincoat with pink bear cubs, but when I
caught sight of a guy in a white woolen raincoat with purple
elephants on it … Well, if only one raincoat was the case, but
light green shoes with high lacing and knee-length leggings
completed this picture. This guy was crowned with a tall red
Mohawk with a whole set of large earrings in his left ear.
Maybe there was something else, but I did not have time to
notice. Well, and I did not want to do so. I’m afraid my brain
would not have survived seeing any other elements of the
clothing of this miracle.
I rubbed my palms over my eyes from such a psychedelic
combination of clothes, happily discovered that we had
already gone further and this picture was not visible. Only here
we, it seems, at the same time left the zone with safe buildings.
Though we continued to be surrounded by huge high-rises
sweeping past from all sides, but now their appearance left
much to be desired.
There were shabby facades of buildings, in some places
gaping with rather large cracks, a huge amount of garbage,
which was seen in the doorways, despite the fact that my eyes
managed to rest just for a split second. And the most important
thing is the people who, with the change of the zone, also
changed significantly, now it was rarely possible to notice
things of bright colors. Mostly here people were dressed in
gray or dark tones, and the behavior also changed: lowered
heads, a quick paced step and almost constant concern were
noticeable in every person.
At first, I hoped that we were just passing through a zone with
a low standard of living, which had reached out to one of the
main roads. Five minutes, ten, half an hour, and there are
practically no changes in the environment. Buildings changed:
somewhere a bit worse, somewhere a little better, but in the
bulk almost the same thing - devastation, dirt, and non-descript
people with a tired look - this was what was mostly seen
outside the window for the last hour of driving. The others

were also depressed by what they saw outside the window.
Even the light talk and laughter, heard at the beginning,
completely stopped.
“Is it everywhere like that?” I asked Litar.
“At the sixth, unfortunately, yes,” she answered in a sad voice.
“And what about all those colorful buildings at the beginning
of our road?”
“It is only near the central lift column, within a radius of
several kilometers, so to say, the remnants of luxury. Yes, and
various local oligarchs try to settle there, and they do not want
to live in mud and gloomy houses.”
“And what about the higher levels?”
“At the seventh level, about 60 percent of the buildings are in
the same condition, only the first three rings of the level are in
fairly good condition. In the eighth level, things are already
better, there is only the extreme ring of areas, and a couple of
areas in the penultimate ring like that. The others are more or
less in a good condition. Well, on the ninth level everything is
quite decent, but there is already much lower population
density in the district and the higher the level, the more it
decreases. For example, I know for sure that on the thirteenth
floor there are only two hundred buildings that exceed ten
floors. And, according to rumors, on the sixteenth, a whole
section of one hundred per hundred meters is taken by one
family.”

Upon hearing the words, she lowered her head and tightly
squeezed her fists, fingers touching the edge of her dress. And
in the voice I could hear despair, mixed with malice, slightly
flavored with hatred. Hmm … it is unpleasant to hear such
intonations from such a pleasant and positive girl, but here,
unfortunately, I am powerless.

“Litara, you mentioned the rings and areas,” Tilorn
intervened in our conversation, apparently trying to distract
her from sad thoughts.
“Oh! Don’t you know anything?”

Litara turned her head, looking at our entire group, who were
interested in the conversation and were now looking at her.
Each reacted differently: some shrugged his shoulders, others
shook their head negatively, but the essence of all the gestures
came down to one that no one but Irala had any idea about
these rings.
“Oh! Then I will explain to you. ”she immediately revived.
“In the center of Alfarome there is an axis, which at the same
time is the main transport elevator between the levels. The
whole area around is divided into seventy-two rings of the
same width. Each ring is divided into many districts, which in
turn are divided into sectors …”
“Um … I didn’t understand anything,” Castra admitted,
without even listening.
“So, okay, let me explain it the other way.” Wrinkling her
brow and gathering lips with a bow, she thought for a couple
of seconds, and then her face began to shine. “Here, for
example, an outpost in which you passed the first replication.
It has a code of five, seventeen, twenty-three. So the first digit
indicates the ring distance from the center. It turns out that the
outpost is in the fifth ring. The number seventeen is an area
that is calculated from conditional north and goes in a circle
from right to left. If my memory doesn’t fail me, then in the
fifth ring there are about eighty districts. So our outpost is in
the conditional west. Well, not strictly in the west, but a little
to the north. The area of responsibility of the outpost is the
whole territory, but, in fact, it is located in the twenty-third
sector. Is this explanation understandable?”

“Aha, there are only a couple of questions: why did you so
accurately name the number of districts in the ring, and how
many sectors are there in each district?” continued to ask
Castra.
“Well, the farther the ring is from the center, the longer it is
around the circumference. And also, if we take into account
that at each level’s width of the ring is different, then the
number of areas in the same ring, but at other levels, is
different. The only thing that is constant for each district is the
number of sectors. They are always eighty-one. The area is
lined up in squares: nine sectors in length by nine sectors in
width. That’s just because of the difference in the area levels of
the sector can also vary slightly in size, even at the same
level.”
“It’s a rather complicated system,” said Tilorn thoughtfully.
“Perhaps,” Lita shrugged. “But we have become accustomed
to such a division. However, regardless of the level, you can
always find out what place they are talking about.”

The others continued to ask Litara, but I was distracted and did
not pay attention to their conversations at all. Something
strongly attracted my attention, some kind of discrepancy, but
I just could not understand what it was. The only thing I could
say for sure was that it wasn’t because of what Lita was telling
us. So, Irala was sitting relaxed and listening to the
conversation; she was paying special attention to Castra’s
behavior, she seems to have decided to take her as a role
model in women’s behavior. Castra and Quartz were sitting in
a double seat. The attention of Castra was fully seized by
Litara. Quartz, sitting near the window, was pinching a
screwdriver in some kind of mechanism on his lap,
occasionally becoming distracted and sticking a few words
into the conversation. Sargos pretended to be sleeping leaning
back in his seat. Tilorn was half-turned to Litara and listening

attentively. It seems everything was in order, but the feeling of
anxiety did not let me go.
For sure, here it was! The driver, who for several hours
absolutely did not pay attention to us, began for some reason,
began very often looking in the rear-view mirror, directed to
the salon. Perhaps it was my paranoia, but the fact that the
flow of cars on the road had greatly decreased only stirred my
paranoia. Getting into the neural interface, I quickly sent a
message and sent it to the whole group, except Litara. She did
not need to worry in vain, maybe I was just wrong.
Recipients: Irala, Castra, Quartz, Sargos, Tilorn
Text of the letter:
I could be wrong, but be careful, so as not to attract
attention and you should get ready for battle. I do not like
something for the last twenty minutes in the behavior of
our driver. Tilorn, if anything, you have to ensure the
safety of the Litara, she shouldn’t be hurt at all. Sargos, I
hope you have something to make a smoke screen with.
Irala, you have a forceful breakthrough to the place where
we can arm ourselves. Castra, our girl, forgive me, but you
will have to not only find the enemy, but also provide
combat support. Quartz, cover Castra.

A slight nod from Tilorn showed that he understood. Castra
just pulled on her gloves. With such small movements, they all
showed that they had received the information and were
preparing it. Litara further talked about Alfarome, completely
ignoring our gestures. Nothing happened for fifteen minutes,
we all also were going on talking about routine life.
Everything changed when the driver turned off the main road
somewhere to the left and, having gone through several streets,
stopped the car, instantly jumping out of the driver’s door.
Literally at the same moment, Tilorn grabbed Litara in his

arms, activating the shield with his left hand, covering her
with a shield on one side and his body on the other. And I,
regretting that I was right, growled:
“BATTLE!”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: NO TIME TO RELAX
Irala, with her hands on the seat and leaning a little forward,
with one powerful kick of her foot, simply destroyed the side
door, which had previously moved off to the side. Now,
tumbling in the air and flying about ten meters, it stopped only
because of a collision with a wall. I wonder how much power
she has calculated in the Server units. In her personal
interface, a value of twelve units is displayed, but at the same
time, it is clear that she is stronger than even cyborgs, which,
with their implants, reached the level up to the fifteenth.
Castra slid into the opening, instantly rolling away to the side
to make it difficult for an opponent to shoot at her. I was thrust
afterwards, picking up one of the Ristor on the move, which
Irala held out to me. Restoration of each element from the
miniaturization state takes only a couple of seconds, but in
combat conditions it is too long. And in the whole Irala’s
backpack, only my “Ristor” was restored quickly.
On the mini-map, one by one the labels of the opponents were
appearing as Castra, coming out of the roll-out, twisted her
head in a dash to the nearest alley. Having pressed my left side
to the cabin lining and holding a submachine gun in my right
hand, I covered the evacuation of the others. Shooting was
now dangerous, because all the marks were white, and for
some reason I didn’t feel like shooting and painting myself
with red colour meaning that I’m a criminal.
Now Tilorn jumped out, holding Litara in his arms and
covering him and her by the energy shield. Maybe, it’s still my
paranoia, and we should calmly chill out? I noticed that in the
building opposite to me, approximately on the fifth floor, a
characteristic bright flash was flashing. No, I was not
mistaken: the driver just jumped into the hall of the building.
Meanwhile, I was already yelling at the top of my throat,
because the radios, too, were in Irala’s backpack:
“ROCKET!!!”

I literally take three or four steps to the side, trying to gain
acceleration, and dive forward like a fish into the ocean. Along
the way, somehow detached, the brain had time to fix two
points - how some of the labels change their color to red, and
also a picture is imprinted in my brain, which I probably will
not forget for a long time. In a long jump, having barely bent
my head, Irala rushes past me, holding in each hand one
weakly trembling body, in which at first glance Quartz and
Sargos could be recognized. I imagine the picture: “Two
fearless warriors save a beautiful maiden” … well, or vice
versa.
Before colliding with the land, I barely manage to stretch my
arms bent at the elbows in front of my face. Harsh landing it
was, and I immediately push off with my right hand so that,
like a log, roll behind a kind of iron box, which for some
reason very much resembled a garbage can. The blast wave
almost squeezed all the internal organs out of me, holding my
body between the container and the wall - and before that there
were about three meters between them - my mind was blown.
From the moment the driver jumped out of the car, only seven
seconds had passed, but in those seconds a lot of events and
one rocket had already managed to squeeze in. It seems that
the shooter was waiting for us to send the rocket solely
because he was waiting for the driver to leave the affected
area, otherwise we would have been roasted in the remains of
the car; well, or torn apart by the blast, colorfully stretching
across the available space: the hand is here, the foot is there.
Immediately as the pressure of the container stopped being
exerted upon me, I pushed it a little to the side, while gritting
my teeth in pain. Here bastards, also debuff was given: “The
crack in the third rib on the right side.” It did not give any
minuses, but during movement it occasionally caused small
flashes of pain. Judging by the frames of the group, I only got
it, because as soon as I had twelve health units, the rest of the
health bands were full.

Having picked up my legs, I abruptly started from the spot in
the direction of the gateway, in which, in theory, the rest of my
team should have gone, but the door opened and a fighter tried
to jump out in a lightweight set of dark gray armor, which
squeezed short-barreled machine. It came so close that I only
had time to jump up and group, crashing my whole body into
the enemy and rolling with him inside the room, pressing his
chest to the floor with his knees.
I realized my grave mistake only when, lifting my head a little,
I noticed five more fighters standing ready one by one, who
seemed to be about to jump out after the first one. I was saved
only by the fact that I still continued to squeeze the
submachine gun in my right hand. Immediately throwing up
my left hand, I hit the barrel of the machine gun, which
practically looked at my forehead, literally a split second
before the fighter pulled the trigger, but the first bullet still
managed to pass along the tangent, tearing off the skin on my
head with a long stripe that started a little to the left of the
center of the forehead and stretched right up to the crown.
Literally the second movement, I already pressed the descent
on my Ristor and threw it up in front of me. Given that I
pressed the descent simultaneously with the movement of
weapons, the first seven, maybe ten bullets went to the floor.
More precisely, they should have gone to the floor, but, to the
chagrin of the fighter who tried to jump out the very first and
was now under me, he took upon himself this whole small
amount of lead. It did not kill him, but he clearly will not
escape his pain shock, because no one has yet canceled the
dynamic damage, and his armor is clearly not specifically
designed to compensate for the dynamic impact.
Another rounds of bullets passed between the legs of the
fighter standing in front of me, but everyone else had already
dug into his armor, ranging from the groin to the chest.
Submachine guns, probably, from the very beginning of their
production lacked accuracy, and to fight with them at distances
of over fifty meters - mostly useless use of ammunition. Here
they only compensate for this with their rate of fire; spitting
out not less than ten rounds in a second, and more often,

turning this class of weapons at close distances simply into a
product for making bloody minced flesh.
His left eye was just beginning to pour with blood from the
wound on the head, and I was already glancing at the ribbed
cylinder with such a familiar marking in the boy’s pouch under
me. Um … maybe not a guy, but a girl, God knows only, there
was no time to get to know them closer, he … or she didn’t
take off the helmet, she didn’t show the primary gender signs
behind the vest. Stop it! Damn, again my consciousness begins
to drift away and any nonsense gets into my head. The only
good news is that this whole stream of consciousness most
often returns to its normal in a split second.
Squeezing a round barrel of a plasma grenade in my left hand
together with a small grenade pouch under, I jumped
backwards, trying to fly back into the street, while hoping that
I will not miss out the doorway. Already in flight, I have time
to notice that there is not a check with a ring, but a big button
at the top of the grenade, and below is a small flywheel with
tick marks, the turn of which is responsible for the delay
before the explosion. Having felt the landing by hard hitting it,
I threw the valve cartridge bag with the thumb and, firing the
submachine gun, twirled the retarder at random through the
fabric of the cartridge bag and immediately pressed the
grenade activation button, then threw it into the corridor that I
had just left.
Again, picking up the “Ristor”, rolling, at maximum speed,
rushed into the passage between the buildings, where my
squad was holding the defense. The deafening blast and
explosion burned with the burst of plasma coming from a
narrow corridor. And in my eyes it got dark due to the flash of
pain in the rib from a sharp start. Therefore, I reached my
group being almost blind. It was only from the powerful big
hands that picked me up and quickly laid me on my back, I
realized that I was in Tilorn’s paws.
“How are you doing?” I immediately asked a question.

“We’re fine,” Quartz’s voice made me happy, while Tilorn was
treating the wound on my head, and dark circles began to
disappear in my eyes. “The enemy are minus three …”
“Then minus five is accurate, perhaps minus nine,” I corrected
him, adding fighters in that corridor.
“OK … In general, they tried to take us but in vain, they did
not expect us to resist. Now they have moved away, apparently,
they understood that we are too tough for them.”
“Or: they blocked us and they are waiting for the group in
armor being more serious, and with a larger caliber,” Tilorn
mumbled, moving already to my ribs, wrapping some cloth
around my torso that had hardened sharply, forming a rigid
frame.
“Yes, hell! They just ran away, being scared and they
understood it was difficult to fight with us.” Quartz began to
boast, but I cut him off.
“Tilorn is right. These are not the usual gangsters, too elegant
weapons for them, and I didn’t even notice the red levels, and
we didn’t paint ourselves after killing a couple. So they use
that shit similar to the one that I used then in the laboratory.
And such types will not forget us. What is our position?”
“We were blocked in a small passage between the houses,”
Tilorn continued the report, “the location is a bit bad — we
cannot lean out, but we can be thrust too, beware. I am
covering this exit with Quartz, opposite to Castra and Irala. In
the middle there is Litara, under the supervision of Sargos,
who at the same time makes an obstacle line so that in case of
a breakthrough we are not hit in the back. In my opinion, there
is only one way out - to go for a breakthrough, until something
more difficult comes up. It is only necessary to decide which of
the two sides.”
“The third one,” I grunted, rising to my feet.
“Which third side?”
“Tilorn, you are like a little child, there are always at least six
directions for movement. Therefore, we will go where we are
least expected” and, having quickly looked around, I asked.

“Already received radios?” having received confirmation, I
continued asking questions. “Have you got all the
ammunition?” Again a positive nod. “Then I’ll change and off
we go.”

Having estimated the approximate route from shelter to
shelter, we quickly moved through ragged intervals of time to
the depths of such gateways, where we occupied defense
positions. The situation is, of course, unpleasant, but I am glad
that my guys were able to take defense within literally a
minute and get ready for the battle. It is a pity that I had to
leave most of the protection in that warehouse, as far as the
size of the Irala backpack did not fit.
When I reached Sargos, I spoke to him and he began to mine
the wall in order to organize a new passage for us. No wonder
he persuaded me to cram explosives towards Irala on almost
all the remaining space after packing weapons there. Making
sure that Litara is okay, he moved towards our girls in the
same rushing manner. Irala was already waiting for me,
squatting behind an incomprehensible extension that narrowed
the passage a little. She kept her rifle on her knees already in a
fully assembled state, and the remnants of my weapons were
carefully laid out next to her.
Strangely, Castra seems to be somewhere nearby, judging by
the mini-map, but I don’t see her right away. Just wanted to
ask our attractive android where her girlfriend went to, as I
noticed a slight, barely noticeable movement at the level of the
second floor, and literally at that very second my passive
vision outlined Castra’s silhouette in green. She somehow
managed to get on the pipes of communications that passed
between the first and second floor, and was observing from
there. Given the black color of her clothes and the poor
lighting of this lane, our scout was very hard to notice. If she
did not move, changing her position a little, I would hardly
have noticed her.

Having made an extreme rush, I reached Irala, and, picking up
my equipment, in a hurry I began to hang it in its place.
Although the equipment is so primitive: hip holsters for a
submachine gun, unloading vest with cartridge pouches, full of
spare magazines and grenades, a set of cold wigs, and a rifle
on a belt behind his back. I had neither armor nor a helmet,
unfortunately. Even a backpack with a bunch of useful stray
was left in the hangar. Fixing the radio and putting it on a
wireless connection, combined with a microphone that went
from ear to cheek, I immediately went on the air to talk to my
group.
“Irala, how is the connection?”
“The connection is good, until they are jammed, they cannot
listen, I encrypted the signal.”

It seems to be strange to communicate with Irala sitting next to
me through the walkie-talkie, but it was necessary to check the
connection, and at the same time show the rest of the group
that I was on air. And then suddenly there is no connection,
and I, as an idiot, would give out orders to the microphone,
thinking that they were listening to me.
“Then listen to me attentively. In a minute, Sargos will make a
hole in the wall, and we are escaping through it. We are
moving in the shape of a box with a drill, Litara is in the
centre! If someone does not understand, she is pregnant, so the
respawn for her is the loss of a child. Do I need to explain any
further?”
“No,” Tilorn replied in a hollow voice.
“So, the main task is to take Litara to a safe place, and then
we are going to run with the speed of light and get away from
our pursuers. Target bonus: kill as many as of these rats, just
not too much. When I signal you, we must put smoke curtain in
both directions, and we will have a couple of seconds, if we

are heading for a breakthrough. Any questions?” After
waiting for two seconds, I continued. “No questions… Then
get ready. And… Be careful not to kill the civilians.”

On saying these words, I again ran from one shelter to another,
moving to Sargos. Because according to the “Box with the
drill” plan, I am the first to go with Sargos: I am like a fire
drill; Sargos is like a demolition man, laying a path. The
central link, the role of which Litara now performs, and she is
taken by Quartz and Castra under the arms; they, if necessary,
drag her on their backs, well, for the most part they work with
a human shield. Irala with Tilorn must cover our backs from
being chased, and at the same time they will shoot very
zealous pursuers. After another couple of sudden advances, I
was already near Sargos, who, seeing me, nodded at me,
letting me know that he was ready. Litara was eager to say
something, but I interrupted her with the movement of my
hand and shook my head, implying that this was not the right
time.
“Sargos, five seconds delay. The others start the smoke
curtain! Come on, guys, do not let down me.”

The metal smoke bombs sounded falling on the ground on the
right and left, setting up a smoke screen. Quartz even fired a
couple of times from his shotgun, imitating the beginning of
the breakthrough. The third second, now the smoke, in theory,
should have already become an impenetrable cloud and hold
on in this state for ten to twelve seconds. I took a step to Litara
and press it to my chest, turning my back towards the future
explosion. A sound blow to the ears and a few small pebbles
crashing into my back indicated that Sargos had carried out an
explosion.

Immediately, after letting go of Lita, I spun around and,
grabbing two submachine guns, rushed through the concrete
crumb, which did not have time to settle in the resulting
opening. Damn it, we seem to be here just in time. Bursting
into the room, I almost stumbled over two bodies in the
already familiar light armor, who, it seems, were knocked
down by the blast wave. But I have a terrible suspicion that
they, too, were going to put explosives somewhere here and
suddenly jump out in front of us.
I fell down sharply, stamping on one of the bodies with my left
knee, and throwing up my arms in different directions, filling
the space to my right and left of me with lead from the Ristor.
If I were alone, I would never have done such nonsense - even
to stand still for a second in one place. But I had not been
alone for a long time, and as soon as my head freed Sargos’
view, I did not hesitate for a second, and began to peck out of
my revolvers above my head, creating a fire curtain in the
third direction, which I simply could not cut off.
On the sides three fighters were killed, struck by my fire, the
others managed to whisk into shelter. I took two small steps,
moving forward a little, leaving behind me, it seems, stunned
bodies and bringing my hands in front of me, carrying all the
fire forward. Sargos, on the contrary, lowered the revolvers
and, with a paired shot, held control to the head at the same
time to both. Having stopped the chaotic shooting, slightly
spreading his arms, he was ready to open fire at any moment
in any direction. Immediately behind my back in a hurried
pace, our demolition man emptied used cartridges and threw in
new charges, collected in special speed loaders, designed for
his revolvers.
As soon as he recharged his weapons, I immediately rushed
forward, where I noticed the lower flight of the stairs. Quartz
immediately jumped into my place, covering Castra, who,
grabbing Litara under her elbow with one hand, with her
second hand slightly bending her head, quickly crossed the
dangerous space, where the enemy was still on both sides. I
noticed this, literally for a second looking back, for almost
immediately mentally cursed myself. Now it was not the time
to be distracted, I had to ensure the safety of the passage, and

if I turned my head in the wrong direction, I would risk
quickly being left without this part of my body, having missed
the enemy that was hiding nearby.
Reaching the stairs, I leaned my back against the wall and,
taking the next flight at sight, with a quick step, I moved up. A
short firefight broke out behind me, which was quickly broken
off by several booming shots, so characteristic of Irala’s rifle.
Hmmm, I sympathize with her, with such a big thing it is not
particularly convenient to fight in narrow corridors.
Jumping up to the second floor, I immediately moved along
the corridor to the far end. The door that opened on the right
made me react instantly, and I, releasing one of the Ristor,
grabbed the man who had appeared in the doorway holding the
door handle. Pulling at me, I threw him over my hip and fell
from above, crushing him with all my weight. Turning the arm
with the second submachine gun still clamped, I pressed the
muzzle slightly in an uncomfortable position into the bottom
of the jaw and nearly pulled the trigger. Well, at least at the
last moment managed to figure out that the person was in
civilian clothes.
“Attention! There are civilians.”

Jumping from the wrong enemy, I, without releasing his
hands, pulled up, put him on my feet, and shoved him back
with a sharp movement. I was not even going to say anything
or even apologize, he should be thankful to me for being alive,
because I could just cut him off with one shot, but I was afraid
to start a firefight so that the stray bullet did not accidentally
get Litara, who Castra and Quartz just pulled out on the floor.
Well, what a stupid idiot, hearing shooting outside, he decided
to go out of his apartment! I swear with the soul of the
seraphim, that if I asked him now why he did it, his answer
would be from like “I wanted to know what happened,” well,
maybe in a slightly different wording, but obviously of such an
essence.

Having picked up the fallen weapon from the floor, I rushed
down the corridor, gritting my teeth from pain in the rib. The
corset, whipped up by Tilorn, of course, helped, but debuff did
not go away, and after a hard fall with this civil idiot, the rib
was again aching with pain. When I reached the end of the
corridor, the pain had already been gone. Quickly looking
around, casually glanced at the mini-map. Judging by the
marks on it, each pair in motion was able to maintain a
distance of a couple of meters. Therefore, without thinking
twice, I nodded my head at the door on the left and
commanded Sargos.
“We are passing through!”
He himself, clinging to the wall, carefully looked out of the
window. Outside, almost on the edge of my sight, to the right
of the building, two amphibious armored personnel carriers
stopped, from which fighters in heavy infantry armored
overalls began to jump out. But they were moving somewhere
to the right, which so far was to our advantage. After all, the
entrance to the building is in the opposite direction from us,
and they seem to have decided that, having driven us inside
the building, we were deprived of the chance to hide.
Well, we will not tell them about their delusions. Moreover, it
seems that fighters landed on the first tier of the curtain road,
where there was another entrance to the building. True, I am
not completely sure of this; unfortunately, my view was not so
good now: the road was poorly visible at a height of about the
eighth floor. But we must pay tribute to them; they act fairly
quickly, blocking two exits for us. Now they are likely to
simply begin to clear up floor by floor, driving us in a vice
between the two groups of heavily armored infantry.
Sargos, having already finished his manipulations on the door
and activating the detonator, launched a ring ignition of some
combustible mixture along the contour of the door, in this way,
just cutting the door out of the carrier frame. In this case,

almost silently, only a slight hiss accompanied this action.
Having jumped inside the apartment, I found myself in a small
hallway of a rather small two-room apartment, which was
designed in a steel-gray style. Quickly checking it for the
presence of tenants and not finding any, I relaxed slightly.
“One minute to recharge and prepare for the next dash.”

Tilorn, immediately blocked the doorway, the others began to
put the weapon in order, finishing off the vacant place with the
cartridges after the shooting. Castra, on the other hand, put
Litara in the nearest chair, because she was breathing heavily,
obviously not used to such running.
“Are you okay?” came the quiet question of Castra, addressed
to our guide.
“Yes … Everything is ok … For now.”
“What do you mean?”
“These are Almotek troops. Almotek is the corporation that
controls forty percent of the sixth level. It has unlimited license
for hostilities within half of the territory of the sixth level. I
don’t know how much they regularly pay for it, but for the last
fifty years this corporation has had no problems with the
license.”
“And what does such a big corporation want from us?” - I
could not understand the reason for the hunt for us.
“Most likely, they want to capture you.”
“What a cool way to capture someone when they shoot to kill
you,” Quartz said.
“If you die here, then because of the long distance to the
replicators of your bindings, you will be respawn in the

nearest public replication center that they have under control,
and you will be taken there without any resistance.”
“Fuck, we now mustn’t die, - through clenched teeth, Quartz
exclaimed.”

Meanwhile, I was silent, trying to figure out our further
actions. I still do not know how, but I just have to get everyone
out of this shit. I only have to figure out how.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: WE ARE BREAKING
THROUGH
Going to the window, I gently pushed one of the blinds,
opening the view of the street. It seems that I was right in
predicting the actions of the enemy, and now the main forces
from the opposite side of the building were trying to cut us in
both ways out of the building.
“Litara, they try to keep silence about the information on
licenses, and here the whole corporation enjoys the right to
kill. Something is really confusing here,” continuing to look at
the street, I turned to the girl.
“So only the top managers have the information, and the
others simply know that in a certain zone they can safely do
what they want. They are not told the details.”
“I see,” letting go of the blinds, which I was holding with my
finger, I turned to the others. “Send me he coordinates of the
nearest elevator.”
“The closest one leads only to the seventh and eighth levels,”
clarified Litara, making a hand movement in my direction,
thereby sending the coordinates I asked for.
“Ok,” I glanced over my group and, without noticing even the
shadow of a wobble on their faces, took a deep breath and
commanded. “Everybody, go! The formation does not
change.”

Putting my “Ristor” into holsters, I pulled the rifle over my
chest and with a quick sliding movement I transferred the belt
from the transport to the combat mode. Now I finally have a
space to work with it. Going to the others, I gave the task to
Irala.

“You are responsible for Litara’s safety.”

Turning around, I ran back to the window at maximum speed,
and at the last moment jumping up and covering my face with
my forearm, knocked out the glass with my body, flying out in
an array of shatters, and with acceleration given by gravity
rushed to the ground, slightly pressing my legs. As soon as the
feet touched the ground, I immediately spun them, leaving for
a roll to extinguish the inertia, otherwise I could dislocate the
legs, and with a particularly unsuccessful landing, I could even
break my legs.
As soon as I began to extinguish the inertia, I immediately
mentally clicked on the combat roll icon in the skill icon, and I
landed just on my knee. One second past, and I was ready to
fire. I pressed the butt of the “Phantom” to the shoulder,
catching the opponent’s head in the crosshairs of the sight.
Slightly relaxing my left hand, lowering the aiming point
under the lower part of the helmet, resting the grid cross on the
back of my head, I exhaled sharply, stood still for a second and
pulled the trigger. Two hundred meters for such a rifle is not a
distance, up to three hundred, it calmly hits without correction
for the distortion of the beam. The main thing is that your
hands should not tremble so that you do not ruin the perfect
shot yourself. Therefore, the red energy beam with an orange
shade stuck strictly at the place where I aimed.
Now we have an extra ten seconds of handicap, until they find
us completely in the place where they didn’t expect us. This is
what inertness of thinking means, I had been caught on such a
trivial thing a couple of times in the past. For some reason, the
overwhelming majority of fighters do not think at all that it is
quite safe to jump from the second floor. In fact, the trained
people calmly make it from the third floor; there were even
individuals who managed to jump off from the fifth and after
easily escaped.
Irala was the last to land, leaving a small dent in the ground
from the legs, holding Litara in her arms. Quickly overcoming

the open space, we rushed headlong toward the eliminated
fighter. It was now the only hole in the cordon, which could
disappear at any second if only those who command our
capture noticed the loss of the fighter. Reaching the body, I
only stayed there for a couple of seconds. He sat down and
began removing his body armor. Sargos immediately returned
literally a couple of meters and began to install a grenade on
the banner. Having coped with the clasps on the vest, he threw
it to Castra.
“To Lita!”

I picked up a short-barreled machine gun with a small bag,
which I tore off the dead body from his belt, and rushed on, so
that it was not too late for me to escape. If we compare our
current coordinates and those that Litara sent to me, then we
have six kilometers to the nearest elevator. And this, in the
best case scenario, is about forty minutes to run, considering
that a pregnant girl is following us. I began to examine the
machine on the move, having only noticed that he had
conveniently located the store reset buttons and the slide delay
reset, as two large jeeps drove from around the corner and,
squealing with the brake pads, stopped sideways to us.
Armed people, already equipped with a little more serious
armor, started to jump out of the opened doors, and
immediately opened fire at us. Almost on the move, I plopped
down on the belly and activated “Brann-castle”. How long this
activation time drags! But finally, it starts up, and I begin to
shoot the enemy with power bullets from the machine gun. I
didn’t even immediately understand what was wrong here, like
an ordinary firearm, but there was no exhaust flame from the
combustion of gunpowder. Well, those were just bullets
formed from a compacted force field. Such a compact and
powerful fire forced the enemy to take cover behind the
equipment on which they arrived. Thanks to this, my group
was able to safely hide in a side passage between buildings.

As soon as I ran out of bullets, jumping up and activating the
“Pendulum”, I rushed away, with my hand into the bag, which
I grabbed from the former owner of the machine gun, hoping
to find there a spare magazine case for the machine gun. But I
felt there was only a plastic box. Without stopping, I took out
the find and nearly tripped over because of the surprise. There
was a plastic gaming card set. It was not just a traditional
playing set, but some kind of shit that is very reminiscent of
card games being admired by art lovers. I wondered why on
earth the fighter in the area of a military operation had some
set of cards from a fucking collection. I had to throw this
garbage away, as well as the useless submachine gun.
Immediately around the corner, Sargos was standing on his
knee. Clutching the heels of the cartridges in his teeth, he
quickly stuffed the drum of a revolver. When I was running
past him, he was distracted for a second and squeezed the
detonator attached to the right shoulder, after which an
explosion came from behind, somewhere near those jeeps.
Hell yeah, he indulges in his bullets combined with mines
again. Throwing the last cartridge in the drum, he spun it,
snapped the rotational motion of the brush and immediately
fell in behind me, only a few steps behind.
Ahead, thirty yards away from me, a massive Irala’s rifle,
which operated under the cover of Tilorn’s shield, destroyed
the most heavily armored targets. Quartz, meanwhile, leaving
Litara under the cover of Castra, shot off the locking
mechanisms on the door to the left. When he was about to
knock out the door hanging on the snot with his foot, I stopped
him.
“Quartz, Irala, swap! Tilorn is already half empty,” I added,
seeing a misunderstanding in Quartz’s eyes.

While they were changing places, I already jumped to the door
and knocked out its flimsy remains with my foot. A short line
immediately flew into the left jamb of the door, leaving five

pierced hollows in the metal. Plasma shots, bastards, but I
have a couple of unpleasant surprises for them. Snatching
offensive and noise-causing grenades, squeezing the guard
mustaches, I squeezed one by one in each hand. Putting my
hands together, I hooked my thumbs over the rings of
grenades. Sharply spreading my arms to the sides, I pulled out
two safety rings at once with this kind of device. The fuses of
my grenades with a delay of six seconds, considering this,
while continuing to squeeze the light-noise grenade with my
little finger and the ring finger, took the rest of my fingers to
the side, freeing the spring-loaded foot, allowing checks to fly
off to the side.
My attack consisted of a number of steps. One step— quick
inhale, two steps—exhale just as quick, and doing the same
actions with the offensive grenade with my second hand, three
steps — making a step to the side, slightly opening the
shooter, four steps — not a very accurate throw with my left
hand into a fairly large room, which to my surprise, the enemy
had already managed to take, five steps - one more step
sideways, and the left half is covered with a door jamb, but the
right side is visible through the doorway, six step - at the last
moment I had time to cover most of the body, and most
importantly, to hide my eyes from the flash that lit up every
corner in the room. My left hand, only the right hand remained
in the doorway with a grenade clamped in it, seven steps - an
offensive grenade was thrown, and quickly removed my hand
from the doorway. Eight steps - I completely hid behind the
doorjamb, and the grenade explodes almost at the top of the
flight, filling up all the available space with shatters,
accompanying with the sound of broken glass.
I pulled both Ristor pistols of mine out of my holster and
rushed into the room, jumping over several dead enemies,
leaving them to Sargos. I started shooting even before my legs
hit the floor, and not at the wounded people. To our
misfortune, the room was some kind of shop and it had a huge
glass case covering the entire width of the wall, the only joyful
moment for us was that this solid glass window, although it
was up to the ceiling, started at about the level of waist.
Therefore, the first bullets went through the window openings,

forcing the fighters on the street to seek shelter. I immediately
fell to my knees, making it difficult for enemy to shoot at me,
as if on a growth target, and then I had to spin like a whip
already on my knees, finishing off the wounded; otherwise I
still stood a chance to get a bullet from some kind of bastard.
“I am passing a meter from the floor,” I’m letting the others
know the state of affairs, at the same time putting several
bullets into the barely moving fighter.

Sargos, quickly assessing the situation, first of all threw
several smoke grenades into the windows, immediately sitting
down, and only after that began to finish off the fighters I had
missed out on. Eh, I’ve got nostalgia again: the smell of hot
plasma, explosions of grenades, energy clots and plasma
charges rush over your head! Having finished off the
wounded, I crept up to the windows and, periodically
extending my hand, made long shots, not hoping to hit
someone, just to delay the oncoming movement of the enemy.
My group is sneaking behind me quickly, a heavy armored
vehicle roars somewhere close by, now there would still be
combat copters with a pair of hanging missile cassettes - and it
almost reminds me of the evacuation of diplomats from the
Eisbuch … WAIT! Heavy armor engines … Fucking shit!!! …
“Quickly move your body!” I shouted into the microphone.
“We seem to have a large caliber of armored guests.”

Leaning back against a piece of the wall under the wide
window, which served as a shelter for me, I made sure that
everyone had already disappeared into the next room, only
Sargos was there to cover me leaving. One after another, I
threw two offensive grenades behind me, with a difference of
about two seconds and quickly rushed after the others.

Walking by Sargos, who was squinting at something into his
revolver, I was able to level off and change to a normal pace.
Sargos, having at last made one single shot, rushed after me.
Having run about five meters along a small corridor, I jumped
into the storage room, filled with various shelves, drawers and
containers. The warehouse was lit by a dozen scattered lamps
in a chaotic, at first glance, order, but this small number of
light sources provided a dim, but very uniform illumination,
which immediately showed their arrangement not to be chaotic
but rather thoroughly thoughtful. Yeah, and the defense here is
just a pleasure - there is not a single window, access to the
room only through the corridor left behind and massive metal
gates in the right wall, which, unfortunately, were leading
straight to the enemy thirsting for our blood.
That’s just in our position to get bogged down in one place in
defense - this is the right path to replication, if the cartridges
are empty or heavy weapons are pulled up. And given that the
sounds of heavy equipment are getting closer, then the second
option seems to come much faster than the first one. Now, all
our hope was for constant movement and mobility of the
detachment. However, our mobility because of Lita was very
restricted. After all, she must be protected from enemy fire,
which binds us.
Going around a couple of racks and going out to the others, I
squeezed the handles of the submachine gun so that my
knuckles were white, and my thoughts were swept inside the
head with all the force, crashing into the walls of the skull in
search of a way out of the situation. Litara was sitting on the
floor, and beside her, Tilorn was kneeling and bandaging his
hand. The injury was minor, but this injury infuriated me. The
question is not that Lita may die, but that she will lose her
baby. Children are the highest value even in reality, and here
… here I am starting to shudder just of one thought.
I found a way out of the situation in the form of a small door,
barely noticeable in the dusk of the light in the room. Behind
the door there was a small room, literally two square meters,
where the cleaning droids huddled together. Returning to the
others, I made a difficult decision, but now it was probably the

best. Approaching Irala and crouching beside her, I began to
talk to her in such a way that Litara would not hear a word.
“Irala,” I drew her attention. “I have a very serious task for
you. Although it is rather not a task, but it is simply a request
from me.”
“I’m all ears.”
“Take Litara and you and she shut yourselves in that office
room,” I pointed to the door I had discovered. “We will move
up the rack so that it will be unnoticeable, and when it is safe
here, take Litara to a safe place. Will you do that for me?”
“And what about you?”
“We will try to get everyone away from here.”
“Why me?” She was indignant. “My combat potential will
help you more in battle than if I stay here.”
“…Because you and Litara mustn’t die… There is no certainty
that any of us will be able to pull out your information carrier.
I can’t take a risk like that.”

She looked down at her rifle and thought for a while, or maybe
she just analyzed the information, I didn’t dare to say exactly
what was happening in her electronic mind. But she seemed to
have made a decision and, raising her eyes to me, she
announced her decision.
“Ok, but you will owe me one good turn!“
“You are just like the others.” I grinned. “We will soon
introduce a new type of currency - “the debt requests Volper
owes””
“What are you talking about? I don’t quite follow you.”
“Well, never mind, it’s just that you are not the first to whom I
owe one request, so I agree. And try to get to the outpost

carefully. Even with the worst concurrence of events, Carefire
and Sanych will help you.”
“OK!”

Having solved this issue, I gathered the others and explain my
plan to them. I cannot say that everyone agreed, but no one
objected. Everyone understood that at the moment the other
options were even worse. Having hidden the girls, we gathered
near the far wall, preparing for a breakthrough. Charged in full
Tilorn`s weapons, and we re-checked the cartridges in the
weapons. Sargos, putting on the wall a thin line of explosives
similar to clay, sighed bitterly, and said tragically.
“It was the last!”

Quartz and I stood on either sides of Tilorn, preparing smoke
grenades. The remaining combat ones were given to Castra
and Sargos. The modified hammer of Tilorn`s took its place in
his right hand, because, quite possibly, we`d have to come
together in melee, where work will be for him and Castra.
Having looked at our team for the last time and making sure
that everyone was ready, I was about to give a command to
start, but Tilorn stopped me, breaking several flasks under his
feet, which had a yellowish color with a pleasant strawberry
odor.
“I managed to make only a couple of ampoules. They are for
the rainy day.” He shrugged his shoulders at my questioning
glance.

The rate of recovery of fatigue has doubled, the consumption
of fatigue has decreased by one and a half, the rate of
regeneration has increased threefold, and a whole host of
minor gains, ranging from hundredths of a percent to seven. It
will be necessary to find out later what he needs to create such
capsules. I would absolutely like to have such a thing before
each and every fight. But it will be later, when we get out of
this shithole. Giving a signal to Sargos, I pulled the ring out of
the smoke hoods and grabbed the submachine gun with my
free hand. Unfortunately, it will not last for a long time, there
is only one more magazine case left, but I am also going to use
these cartridges to the maximum benefit.
The explosion ruined a piece of the wall so that it crashed
outside, sufficient to freely pop out even for Tilorn of his
rather big size. But two smoke grenades, launched almost at
the same time by me and Quartz, flew first to the exit. But
already behind them, activating the shield, Tilorn rushed,
assuming almost all the hitting of the sharply starting firing in
our direction. Jumping after him, on the move with two hands,
I opened fire to the left of him, literally shooting the first few
steps at the blind through the smoke covering my view.
When I ran from the smoke into the open, I found three dozen
fighters who, putting transport in a semicircle, thrashed under
its cover from all trunks on Tilorn’s shield. Considering that
our medic already barely moved his legs and a huge weight,
which almost knocked him down, and these now flew into his
shield. As soon as I and Quartz came out of the smoke on both
sides of Tilorn, the fighters began to turn their weapons at us.
But the main task of the smoke was not to cover our way out,
but not to let notice the little brisk Castra, who, like a real
sprinter, jumped out of the smoke strictly behind Tilorn’s back.
Without slowing down, she caught up in front of the walking
medic and, using the batteries on his belt, located at the back,
like a step, and with her shoulders, like the second step,
jumped up another three meters, while firing both harpoons
into the opposite building. And as soon as they sank into the
concrete, they immediately turned on the built-in winches at
full speed, rushing like a rocket over the heads of the enemy.
The fighters opposing us did not expect such a trick, although

they figured out where we would most likely try to go for a
breakthrough. Most of the shooters who had already begun to
transfer the sight of their weapons to me and Quartz, seeing
the new target, simply hesitated, not knowing which way to
shoot and which of us posed a greater threat, which gave us
literally a moment of time, which we used with maximum
efficiency.
Castra, flying over the enemy, dropped two pouches of
grenades, forcing the shooters to run in different directions,
waiting for an explosion, which Tilorn took advantage of.
Bursting into their ranks, he immediately brought down his
hammer on the head of the nearest man. Slightly to the right,
with over clocking by jumping over the hood of one of the
cars, Quartz simply mowed down the right flank with a large
twelve millimeter canister. If it didn’t kill anyone at once, they
were clearly incapacitated, inflicting many traumatic wounds.
From the left, I burst into the chaos, slipping with my feet in
front under the bottom of one of the jeeps, which was too
much kicked up from the road surface. True, in terms of
dimensions, it was much larger than a car, on the hood of
which jumped Quartz, so I had only two options: either run
around, losing precious time, or under it. So I chose the latter,
twisting at the last moment and jumping out from under the
bottom, slowing down my further movement with the toes of
the boots and the lower part of the arms of the submachine
gun, simultaneously tearing the ribs of my palms into the
blood.
On the last bits of inertia, I pushed off the ground with my
hands, and the residual energy of the movement simply lifted
me, putting me on my stiff legs. Having rather poorly
calculated the movement, I strongly pushed the heels on the
road surface, and I almost dragged on further, forcing myself
to uncontrollably roll over the back, but I miraculously stayed
on my feet, immediately starting to shoot down fighters who
were trying to escape from the blast wave, which their fatal
chagrin was not followed.
Well, that we are not quite idiots to dump a mass of grenades
without rings close to us. Well, think about it, a dozen blanks

fell and rolled on the ground, so at first glance you can see that
the safety rings remained in place. Although, to be honest with
myself, this method of disorienting the enemy I had received
from the history of military conflicts and it was used in the
twentieth century. Well, so far nothing can be done about the
conditioned reflex at the sight of a grenade, the body itself
reacts, making it jump to the nearest shelter and try to push it
as hard as possible to the surface, hoping that the fragments
will sweep over you
This was played, finding almost all opponents in the prone
position, and not being able to give us a rebuff. Quickly doing
away with this bunch of ex-fighters and picking up the trophy
plasma machine and heels of generators to me, I was about to
move on, but the jeep under which I was drew all my attention
by the fact that on board only in a couple of places the paint
was erased from bullet hits. It looks like it is well-armored, but
the problem is that we do not have a driver who could drive it.
“Can I?” Quartz jumped towards me. It seems that the last
thought about the driver I expressed loudly.
“Three seconds! If you do not start, we move further on foot.”

Before I could finish speaking, he had already jumped into the
jeep and started it. Not three seconds passed, but probably
only one and a half, as this armored vehicle purred with its
four paired electric motors, and I heard a cry of joyful Quartz.
“Yahoo!!!”

Oh, something overwhelms me with doubts about the
correctness of my decision, but it’s too late to retreat.

“All aboard!”
“Wouldn’t it be better to walk?” Castra asked as she
approached, clearly sharing my opinion about the driving
skills of Quartz.
“There is no time to think, I’ll have to take a chance and trust
this guy,” turning round, I noticed that Castra’s right hand was
hanging with a whip, and she was touching her shoulder.
“What happened?”
“A bad landing,” she frowned. “It looks like the shoulder joint
is knocked out.”
“Then without any options, we are driving.” and, lifting my
eyes to the ceiling, I added with a sigh. “ I hope he does not
send us to the replication centre earlier than the enemy.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN: WE’D BETTER WALK
I have always been an atheist. Nowadays there are not so
many believers left from the general mass of people, but all
the same there were quite a few. But personally, since my
childhood I have never believed in higher powers and always
believed that what and how we can achieve depends only on
us. Although I use the words-parasites when I address God,
this is more of a reflex than actually addressing Him. Just now,
I quite seriously think about starting to pray, and only about
one thing - so that we will not be smashed in a thin layer on
the inside of the jeep.
That was not for nothing, oh, really, I thought about keeping
Quartz as far as possible from transport management and
blundered very much, giving him the opportunity to drive this
vehicle. Well, how could I know that it starts by means of one
single button, and this button is the largest, and even the red
one? Naturally, he immediately took the driver’s seat, and I, as
the commander, jumped onto the front passenger seat. The
others sat down behind, holding Castra in the middle. It would
be better if I sat down in the trunk, because Quartz started up
so that I was pressed into the back of the seat.
That’s why I, after a lot of quite aggressive landings on
different planets, fighting in space, and in repeated situations
where I was close to death, thought that it was hard to frighten
me. But considering that in the first two minutes of the ride we
nearly fifteen times crashed into various objects, most of
which were just walls, I grabbed the dashboard in front of me
with one hand. So this guy still managed to be distracted from
the road, trying to figure out the purpose of the set of switches
and buttons.
Having escaped into the open road, literally in ten meters they
barely missed the mobile group, when Sargos reacted
immediately and discharged a full case, thrusting his hand out
of the window. We rushed ahead at full speed, squeezing the
maximum out of our vehicle, thereby almost instantly

detached from the mobile group that had begun to turn around.
This, of course, is excellent, only …
“Quartz, fuck you! We need to go the other way!” I screamed
into his ear.
“OK, no problem, everything will be alright.”

And with all the force he spun the steering wheel to the left,
while pressing the brakes, causing the brake pads to squeak. I
didn’t even have a desire to hit him on the head for using slang
words. I just watched the approach of ground to my window,
trying to recall, in the meantime, if I didn’t notice
compensation levers on the sides of this vehicle, and somehow
I don’t feel like the idea of being banged against the ground.
Despite the sharp turning and the fact that, by inertia, the car
was lifted with two wheels, my head and the window, did not
reach the road surface. When the car did not stop its
movement hung in a shaky position on the right row of
wheels, Quartz, leaning out of the driver’s window, slightly
outweighed, which gave the necessary weight to return the left
row of wheels to the road.
Being shaken strongly, and judging by the hissing Tilorn, he
seems to have been hit well. Hopefully, the guys didn’t
squeeze Castra there, but God forbid, they could squash the
poor girl, I didn’t have time to turn around, because the mobile
group that was trying to catch up with us now rushed towards
us.
“Tilorn, take care of the enemy…” I shouted loudly through
the whole car.

Without waiting for an answer, I leaned my body out of the
window and almost immediately felt how Tilorn’s lap-legs
were grasping my waist belt so that I would not fall out of the
window. Pulling up the two pistols of “Ristor”, brought them
together in front of my eyes, almost squeezing both aiming
strips one to another, turning each submachine gun at an angle
of forty-five degrees, to facilitate aiming both at once.
Pressing the triggers, I began to shoot the windshield of the
head machine of the enemy rushing towards us.
All five of their cars are now approaching us at high speed,
lined in the shape of a fir tree. So, they occupied the entire
width of the road, giving us no chance to break through them.
The bullets began to ricochet from the armored windshield,
but they carried out the main task, forcing the driver to
reflexively swing to the left, hooking the vehicle next to it
with a half lag. At the same time, both cars slowed down a
little, creating a gap in their movement.
I immediately got back into the car, so that due to a tangential
collision, my upper half of the body did not go out for a walk
separately from the legs, which would continue to go in the
car. Quartz had enough space to squeeze through the gap,
while losing only the side mirror on the driver’s side.
We drove through the next intersection almost at the last
moment, almost immediately after us two light armored
vehicles with a small automatic twenty-millimeter- cannon
vehicle pulled out and almost immediately opened fire at us.
But I feel it with my guts - it’s not for long: it will take no
more than ten seconds and our car will be caught in sight.
Quartz seemed to have understood this even without me giving
clues, because, he turned the steering wheel to the right,
simultaneously tearing down a pair of metal garbage cans, fit
into a not very wide passage between the two houses. Almost
immediately, jumping out onto a parallel road, he embarked on
the previous course of movement, slightly adjusting the
direction of the car to the right, taxiing up the slope to the
second tier of the road.
But this maneuver did not really help us, because in just a
couple of seconds both pursuers jumped out after us, and on

the other side they were joined by several jeeps and five
motorcyclists who had bikes without the wheels on a
gravitational pull, who, seeing us, immediately speeded up and
began to gradually reduce the distance.
“Wow! I discovered the new driving skills,” Quartz smiled,
turning to us.
“Look where you are going!!!” They all yelled at him at the
same time, even Sargos.

Somehow uncomfortable we feel being chained in this iron
coffin without the ability to do something. I wasn’t allowed to
reflect on this, loading us with something powerful in the right
rear wheel, which caused the car to skid, and Quartz yelled at
us as if he lost his mind:
“You’re not going to get us, *****, you cannot defeat me with
your bare hands!”

At the same time, he pulled some kind of lever, which caused
our car to accelerate sharply, almost without obeying the
steering wheel. At this acceleration, we can say, we carried it
to the second tier of the road, but did not turn according to its
bend, but, having demolished the flimsy rails, soared into the
air. Well, at least for a second before the car rushed towards
the ground, incidentally crashing a bumper into a fighter with
a backpack engine behind his back, taking off literally a split
second before that right in front of us. I wonder if this car
model has wipers on the bumper. And now they would be
useful.
The painful three seconds we spent in peaceful tranquility,
staring at a guy who was not so lucky to stick to our bumper.
While he, staring at the eyes, was staring in response at us, it

was clear that he was shocked by the situation he was in.
Quartz, raising his hand, poked his index finger behind his
back, where a building wall with many windows was
approaching. Turning my head around and seeing where we
should land, the fighter with the knapsack shouted something,
most likely, swearing, but his words were carried away faster
than we could understand that he was yelling.
“Hold on!” Quartz voiced what we already understood.

We crashed into the building exactly on the third floor,
breaking through the windows under the ceiling. I do not know
how the others felt, but I firmly put my head on the dashboard.
Well, my head today is getting all the rough bumps; I thought I
should probably have taken the helmet with me. Having
kicked the jammed door a couple of times for his part and not
having achieved any success, I twisted it a little and slipped
through the window, immediately checking what happened to
our unexpected passenger.
Hmmm … the bottom half of the guy just smeared under the
bottom of the car. In this case, the upper half of the body was
practically without any damage. The main thing is that he is
now definitely not dangerous. Hmm … here comes the bonus.
Having unbuttoned the retainer under the lower jaw, I pulled
off a rather good helmet that covered the back of the head and
the ears almost completely, leaving the face half open. And the
closed part of the face was covered by a thin, but very durable
transparent plastic.
Without thinking twice, I put the helmet on my head. It’s a
little cramped, but as a temporary measure it’s ok. When I
have some free minutes, I will adjust the suspension system
under the bowler.
“Quartz, if Volper doesn’t strangle you, I’ll make a meat chop
out of you,” Tilorn grumbled from behind my back.

For the others, I was not worried yet; the interface did an
excellent job of displaying vital data. But what it could not
show was the emotional state.
“No, I will not strangle him, I will make it worse! I will lock
him up in a small room and invite Castra there, let her make
fun of him…” I smiled, watching the above mentioned lady
crawling out of the car, after which she tried to rise on slightly
trembling legs.

Hearing my words, she immediately nodded very slowly and
very frequently, stretching out her arms towards Quartz,
clearly wanting to hold onto his neck. Our technician was
saved from immediate reprisal only by the fact that he was
now on the opposite side of the vehicle. Our relaxed manner
after a little stress was blown away by just a single word.
“They’re flying,” said Sargos in an even, calm voice.

He squatted right next to the gap leading to the street after our
relatively successful landing. In just two steps, I was near him.
Tracing the direction of his gaze, I noticed that about a dozen
flyers were rushing to us in the same outfit as our unsuccessful
passenger. A little behind them, another ten and one and a half
units of equipment, of varying degrees of armor and
armament, were approaching.
Swearing a little out of breath, I quickly climbed back into the
remains of the car in search of a rifle, which I, getting into the
car, put on the side of the seat. Taking it, I immediately
returned to the gap in order to start shooting the flying

opponents, but Tilorn stopped me, putting his heavy palm on
my shoulder, pointing with his other hand somewhere to the
right. Moving the gun aim in the direction indicated, I lowered
the rifle powerlessly. On the other side, much closer to the
flyers, a full-fledged battalion formation was moving towards
us, stretching out in a column of fifty units of various vehicles,
where both transport trucks with infantry and other various
armored vehicles, including small tanks, were present. It’s a
shame, damn it. We did not reach the elevator just for about a
kilometer away, and we were practically cornered.
“Castra, why aren’t they marked as red?”
“Um … I do not know, maybe the Server does not perceive this
group as our opponent until they start to show aggression
towards us…”
“…It’s strange,” I scratched my chin, watching the flyers
drastically change the trajectory and head towards their
equipment, “Irala, can you hear us?”
“I can hear you perfectly,” the sound came in my ear.
“How is the situation there?”
“I don’t know, you closed us in the back room, but judging by
the sounds coming from the outside, most, maybe all, urgently
left somewhere. I could hear roaring engines.”
“Castra, run to the opposite side and see what is happening
there. Quartz, go with her.”

Before Castra had time to reach the opposite side of the
building, a new strange thing had occurred. Practically all the
equipment moving in our direction abruptly changed the
direction of movement and spread out along the road
approximately two hundred meters from the building in which
we were at the moment. I thought we would just be smashed
with large caliber weapons now, just taking down the entire
third floor with a friendly hit, but infantry began to land and

take positions between the equipment with a solid front. For
all the time while we were watching them, not a single shot
was done in our direction.
“Does someone understand what is happening?” Tilorn asked
on the air.
“I have an assumption, but I will wait until Castra reports
what is happening from the opposite side.”
“Wait a bit, Quartz will now open the door in the apartment
opposite, then just look.”
“Watch carefully there for civilians! Or else they will shoot
you being frightened.”
“Ok, I will be careful.”

The door to the next room began to open, forcing us to react
sharply. I knelt, raising the rifle, which at that moment was
squeezed in my hands, and Tilorn, moving forward slightly to
the side, activated the shield so that I did not block the firing
sector, but at the same time could close me from the oncoming
attack by a slight offset to the side.
A young guy in soft blue pajamas and huge headphones on his
head stared at us from the doorway. In his hands he was
holding a glass bowl with a light beige liquid in it, which he
tried to bring to the mouth with a spoon, but he did not
succeed. Spoon hung in the middle of the path between the
bowl and mouth.
“It is my flat!”

Now it is clear why at first we did not notice any of the
civilians in the room. The owner of the apartment had just had

dinner, listening to music that was louder than all the chaos
going on behind the wall. I just do not understand why he
needed headphones. After all, it seems you can listen directly
from the neural interface, since I myself watched the video.
Well, this is his problem; maybe it is more convenient for him.
“Tilorn, deal with him,” I commanded, dropping the rifle.
“Castra, how long are you going to be there?”
“One moment, please, we’ve got here a couple of hysterical
women.”
“Who would say …” Quartz said, apparently forgetting that
the headset was on.
“So you mean, I am a hysterical woman …” from the quiet
voice of Castra, it was already becoming harsh.
“Uh … I did not mean to say that.”
“Stop talking nonsense! Or did you forget that they were going
to kill us here?”
“Yes, everybody wants to kill us lately,” retorted Castra. “OK,
so be it, I’ll deal with Quartz later. By the way, from the
opposite side everything is clean. Well, at least I don’t see
anyone.”
“Damn, I do not understand their actions! If the second side is
empty, why aren’t they trying to cut off our escape route?
There is, of course, the option that we are simply being driven
into a trap, purposefully leaving only one direction for
departure. But they just took positions and stared at us. Who
has any ideas?”
“I don’t know what exactly is happening there,” said Irala in
the headphones, who continued to listen in to our
conversations. “Only Litara suggested that we were now in the
territory where their license does not apply.”
“Well, it is a plausible explanation.” I agreed with her
assumption. “After all, anyone who shoots us now will turn
red.”

Now in my head the picture was quite formed. We were able
to escape; it remains only to get to the destination, not
plunging into the zone of their license. One thing is a problem.
How to find out where it applies, and where not? My
reflections were interrupted by the doorbell.
“Are you waiting for anyone?” I asked the owner of the flat,
who Tilorn put on the sofa.

The guy shook his head with such haste so that a little more
and it would fall off his body. Well, it seems, the negotiator
has arrived to see us, but I decided to clarify just in case.
“Hey, guys! Did anyone order pizza?”

Tilorn and Sargos looked at me like an idiot. I could not
physically see the reaction of the others, only Quartz’s quiet
hysterical laughter on the air gave away that I puzzled
absolutely everyone.
“Well, if you did not order it, they came to visit us.”

Going to the intercom, I activated the screen, which displayed
a short man of about forty in a strict black suit. Pushing a
finger on the touch button, which is responsible for the
speakerphone intercom, I decided to have my line.

“Your pizza was three minutes late, so it cooled down and I
refuse to pay for it!”
“Hmmm … I apologize, but I’m not pizza delivery, I …”
“Salespeople can also go fuck themselves!”
“Um … sorry who?”
“All sorts of assholes in suits who are trying to sell to gullible
housewives second-rate shit under the guise of elite products.”

Judging by his face, the man’s brain was a little jammed, but
he quickly coped with his face and, taking an unruffled look,
continued in a fairly even voice.
“I don’t know, dear Volper, who you are talking about, but I
represent KeyorTech. And I came here to discuss the situation
in which you found yourself.”
“Okay, come on in.”

I gave the permission, even though the door was not closed
anyway. It is interesting how fast competitors act here. They
hardly let us alone, just as another corporation had already sent
their negotiator. So, it’s enough to have fun, it seems, now they
will try to leave me without anything, and at the same time
they will make me also run around, with my personal
belongings, expressing my gratitude, supposedly to saviors
and benefactors.
On entering the room, the man turned his head from side to
side, assessing the local chaos, keeping his gaze on the owner
of the apartment, to whom Tilorn was now giving some
sedative. Well, at least I hope it is a sedative. And, crouching
on one of the chairs he began to talk to me, so to speak.

“My name is Johan Kurchatov. As I have already said, I am
here to represent the interests of KeyorTech, or in the full
name of the Corporation of Cybernetic and Organic
Technologies.”
“And why did we attract the attention of a representative of
such a large corporation?” sitting on the other chair opposite
him, I asked.
“Our bosses decided to discuss with you peacefully a common
point of interest. Unlike our competitors from Almotek who
tried to achieve their goals by force. As we can see, they did
not succeed, and they still have to spend a whole lot of money
on restoring all the ruined buildings and pay compensation to
affected people if they don’t want to spoil relations in this
territory and lose their benefits there.”

He paused for a while, looking at me and waiting for any
questions. But there were no questions. I listened to him all
ears, but I was in correspondence with the others. The only
problem was in the absence of a chat as a phenomenon, we
had to send each other letters in order to let the others
understand what was going on.
Recipients: Quartz, Tilorn, Castra, Sargos, Irala, Volper.
Text of the letter by Volper:
Castra, watch your side; there is a chance that this guy is
just dragging time, diverting our attention. Sargos, you
keep your eyes on Almotek fighters.
Castra: I am controlling the situation, if something is
suspicious, I will inform you immediately!
Sargos: Well, while I’m busy, check that the vehicle
remains in the trunk, otherwise I’m almost empty. With
the remaining pieces, I cannot even make a smoke-puff
charge. I told you that you need more explosives to take

with you, but no, “Only those which fit into the pockets of
a citizen”.
Thanks to Irala who allocated a bit of space for the things
we need. Fie on you, even I don’t have enough forces to
swear, there is some frustration today, and not a single
minute to relax!
Quartz: Oh my!
Castra: Fucking shit!
Tilorn: Wow.
Irala: Is he able to communicate in a good way?
Sargos: What? I’m just not used to talking, so it’s hard for
me, but it doesn’t bother me with typing.
Volper: So, stop talking, you’d better check what you have
left for ammunition, otherwise I only have one and a half
stores at Ristor, and three cases (without one cartridge) for
Phantom. In the meantime, I’ll give a couple of minutes to
our negotiator.

Johan was singing like a nightingale, describing how good
they are and how they treat us well, and in general beautiful
girls, who offer us an indescribable opportunity to get rid of
such pain, and even give us a few pennies.
“ Cut the long story short!” I interrupted him. “I am a simple
man, so to speak, an honest mercenary, so let’s get to the point.
What do you want from us, and what will you give in return?”

Damn it, and why are they looking at me like an idiot again?
Tilorn’s the jaw went down, obviously intending to meet with
the floor, and Sargos leaned out of the trunk, interrupting his
research of trophies.

“Our bosses want to get all the elements of the Seraphim set
that you have. Even with all the generosity they are ready to
offer as much as a whole … as much as one hundred thousand
for each thing. Well, a small bonus will be the solution of all
formed problems with Almotek Corporation.”

I almost had an eardrum burst from the wild laughter of
Quartz, judging by the sounds, he had there in a fit of laughter.
And the others are not far behind him. Well, at least now
Tilorn and Sargos were almost behind Johan, and their
attempts to hold back laughter were a separate pantomime
worthy of multidimensional fixation and inclusion in the
training materials, as an example worthy of the best actors in
the Meme category.
Recipients: Quartz, Tilorn, Castra, Sargos, Irala, Volper.
Text of the letter:
Castra: It seems that I have poor connection, but I heard
that he offers only one hundred thousand credits for
“Seraphim” belonging to Volper… Maybe he said one
hundred million? He expects to bargain, greatly
understating the price.
Tilorn: You heard it right, this idiot really offered a
hundred thousand. I now do not know how to hide my
shock.
Sargos: I found a box of grenades! Let’s give them to him,
but first we should activate them …
Volper: Do not distract me and it is so hard to keep a
serious face. And, where is the report on ammunition?
Quartz: Seventy-three bullets.
Castra: Yeah, I am almost full, I only did that I ran from
corner to corner.

Sargos: Six sets of revolvers … and a box of grenades,
judging by the plasma markings. Here, however, there are
still some blanks, most likely from a grenade launcher, but
I do not see the grenade launcher. Now I will try to open
one of the shots, maybe at least I’m picking up some
explosives.
Tilorn: Sixty-three percent of the shield. The hammer is
charged fully.
Quartz: I have four more spare batteries for the shield.
Volper: Okay, get ready to run away as fast as you can,
now gently get rid of this clown, and we shall move.

I focused on Johan, who was waiting for my decision. I
scratched my chin and delivered a verdict after our
negotiations.
“I do not like these conditions! So tell your bosses to get lost
or I’ll get them.”
After that, with a mental message, I activated the visualization
of his achievement “The Executioner”. It was just for a
second, but this was enough for large drops of sweat to appear
sharply on his forehead.

CHAPTER TWENTY: WE HAVE MADE IT, HAVEN’T
WE? OR BREAKTHROUGH IS A SUCCESS OR NOT…
Without giving him time to come to his senses and contact the
management for receiving new orders, I got up and went to the
exit, sending an order to the others along the way: we are
going to the exit. The last to get out into the corridor was
Sargos, who was delayed because he was stuffing his
backpack with grenades. After making sure that everyone
gathered downstairs - well, we somehow were unaccustomed
to using elevators; - I began to give out the introductory data.
“We are moving in the raid manner, in a quiet version. We
have scarce amount of ammunition, any skirmish, more or less
serious - and we will only have melee weapons, and here we
deal with not monsters with which you can simply come
together in hand-to-hand combat. Any questions? No
questions. Then what are you waiting for?”
Castra went first, as our forever scout, carefully looking for a
possible ambush and ready to retreat at any moment to Tilorn’s
protection. Although the energy shield was not activated now,
Tilorn walked slightly bending his arm, ready at any moment
to bring the shield into action. We were moving slowly, with
all the precautions, but now it was worth it. Somehow, I did
not have the desire for one of my guys to fall into the hands of
Almotek - who knows what plan they have in mind.
Damn, it will be necessary to clarify the issue with this
distance for replication, and I’m not quite willing after death to
be in a capsule God knows where. I have a couple of
assumptions, though, but it’s not the fact that they are true… If
we consider local logic, then, most likely, binding to the
capsule operates within the level. But in order to avoid this,
you need either a more powerful capsule, or to put something
like radio relay station. Although … Andrew’s fighters died at
the fourth and third level, and this is a bit inconsistent with my

logic. Okay, let’s get to a safe place; I’ll try to clarify this
question with the locals.
Surprisingly, we quietly got out of the building and moved in
the direction we needed, periodically dodging, when Castra
noticed something suspicious. The only thing that surprised
me was the almost complete absence of civilians, which, given
the local population density, was very strange. Near the central
elevator just crowds roamed the streets and there was quite a
busy traffic. But here it was as though everyone had died out,
only rare pedestrians came across my eyes, and even they were
in a hurry somewhere, trying not to stay in the street for too
long.
Having walked about half the way to the nearest elevator and
relaxed a bit, we found the reason why people try not to show
up on the street. In one of the rather large lanes, where we
turned out, following Castra, there were about six passenger
cars, near which a dozen and a half guys and five girls drank
some kind of shit. The guys were dressed mainly in darkcolored pants with narrowed cut and light sleeveless jackets,
on the back of which was viewed the image of a broken gear.
Girls, on the contrary, did not have the same style, and each
was dressed according to her own taste, only two things united
them: each was dressed very vulgarly, trying to put her
“charms” in the most favorable spotlight, and at least one of
the elements of clothing , but the same gear that was broken in
half was necessarily present.
“Oh-la-la, Can you see what a chick came to us!” One of the
guys said, noticing Castra, who first jumped into the zone of
visibility of this company.

He put the can on the hood of the car, onto which he leaned,
his hands in his pockets, leaned his head towards Castra,
clearly feeling superiority on his part. The rest of the company,
having stopped talking and not even having time to notice

anything, began to smile, anticipating entertainment,
simultaneously turning in the direction of the casual victim.
It’s not worth counting on the inhabitants.
It was only at this moment that we jumped into their field of
vision. Castra, quickly orienting, jumped back under Tilorn’s
cover. I fell to my knee, raising the rifle to my shoulder, while
Quartz, slightly leaning to the left, took my place in mirrorlike stand for firing from his shotgun on the opposite side of
Tilorn. Sargos, grabbing both revolvers and spreading his
arms, prepared to shoot in any direction - at least cover his
back, at least help on any of the flanks.
The local gunmen immediately disappeared, obviously not
expecting this, and they had only really simple weapons:
knives, small steel batons and only one pistol. Although there
is no mistake, that young lady has a characteristic, very high
ankle of the right boot. There seems to be something small in
the series of needle-thrower. The guy who was heading to
Castra, stood still and, stretching his hands out of his pocket,
raised them to the height of his shoulder, showing us his empty
palms.
“Hey People! Sorry! Well, we did not recognize VIPs here; I
am ready to give back some cash, if your chick wants some
remuneration.”
“Um …” I’m a little puzzled. “Did anyone understand
anything?”
“Yes, I was busy chewing some stuff here, shoveling around
…” began Quartz, but he interrupted himself and, spitting,
continued. “Ugh, you are puzzled by what he said, he
apologizes that he did not recognize the respectful people, and
is ready to pay some bribe for his trick if his spontaneous act
offended our lady.”
“We are simple people, go where we want to, we do our best
when we are stressed out.” The guy again said something,
which we didn’t understand.

“I see … show us in which direction it is easier for us to get to
the nearest elevator, and we will forget about you.”
“you should go past us,” he gestured with his hand in the
direction we were moving. “But now, it is useless. There are
closed until the traffic is allowed.”

I looked again at Quartz, waiting for the explanation, but he,
having slightly twitched his lips, obviously trying to
understand the translation, finally gave up and shrugged.
“Difficulties of translation due to the peculiarities of the local
dialect.”
“He says that the OCA fighters will not allow you into the
elevator until the morning,” one of the girls said to us.
“What do you mean, until the morning?” glancing at the
clock, I made sure that it was the middle of the day.
“Well, now it’s three o’clock in the morning, and they close the
elevator to the seventh level and higher from ten in the evening
until six in the morning.”

Fuck, that is why there are almost no people on the streets, it is
the middle of the night, and the clock is not three in the
afternoon, as I thought, but three in the morning! We got used,
damn it, that on the fifth level we almost always climb in the
dark, and perceived the local bright light for us as daylight, but
it turns out that it was also night.
“Okay, to the side,” I slightly moved his rifle barrel, indicating
where to go. “We understand!”

Without taking away the trunks from them, we quickly slipped
through the opened space and moved at maximum speed.
Having retired about a hundred meters from the local punks,
Castra slowed down a bit and moved on, carefully examining
the neighborhood.
“I did not understand why he so abruptly went back and was
even ready to pay a certain bribe?” She asked along the way
obviously tormented by the question.
“With almost all small gangs like that,” Quartz took the floor.
“If you ran into those who are too tough for you - pay a fine. I
ran into someone who was stronger under the wing – then pay
a fine. Caught someone without a good cover in the
background - shake out everything you can. So they live.”
“Strange rules, but I will accept it as a fact. But if this applies
to criminals, then why was he ready to pay a fine to us?”
“He just didn’t want his gang to go to replicate. This is our
constant fight, and we quickly restore our skills” having heard
Castra snort, he added. “Yes, yes, a couple of days to recover it’s quick! They have to restore their lost skills due to one
death for weeks or even months. And if he has a group, say a
well-prepared thief or a Mafioso? Loss of a few percent of
such a frame of skill will hit your pocket much more than
paying a fine.”
“You never answered why he decided to pay us a fine. I
understand why he did not start to run up, but he could just
apologize and slip away without engaging in battle.”
“Castra, this is not the fifth level!” I intervened in the
conversation, seeing that Quartz cannot correctly convey a
thought. “Have you seen how they were armed? It is just
trash, and by local standards they are most likely a very
dangerous gang. And here we appear: rifles, shotguns,
automatic pistols, energy shields. Yes, here immediately the
thought comes to mind that we are either in the service of a
corporation, or another group of criminals going on the task.
And given our current outfit, corporate marching style here
and does not smell. So who are we?”

“Bandits,” she grunted, realizing that the answer to her
question was literally understandable.
“And so, are we already bandits?” came the voice of Irala in
the earpiece. “You should have warned me, I would know from
the databases where it is better to sell the stolen goods. And it
is better to find a way to the black market. Hmm … at the same
time you should look for underground cyber-technology with
a normal reputation for me.”
“Stop it! Irala, do not be hasty; we just argued theoretically
how we look from the outside.”
“Well, it would be more interesting,” she said the last word.

Brrr … My group sometimes scares me, you never know what
they will do at the next moment … On the other hand, with
them I practically revived again, and not just live through as it
was for the last years. And to be honest with myself, I don’t
even remember when I last thought about reality, the constant
whirl of events doesn’t allow me to relax, and how sad it is not
to admit, but I like it.
When we were almost at the elevator, I stopped the group and
instructed Castra to find a technical hatch for descending down
into the maze of technical communications. It took around five
minutes for her to find it in one of the branches of the streets.
Quartz with Sargos, carefully opening it, gave us access,
though not to a reliable, but at least some kind of shelter for a
couple of hours.
“So, guys, we are having a rest for eight hours,” I told them
when we went downstairs and carefully closed the entrance
hatch behind me. “The first two hours I’m going to control the
situation. Then an hour and a half - Sargos, Quartz, Tilorn,
and the last Castra…”
“What’s the point of spending so much time sitting here?”
Tilorn asked, sitting down near the wall. “Before the elevator
starts is a little less than three hours.”

“Corporations that hunt for us think the same way. Let them
better decide that we went to another lift and have already
slipped past them.”
“It’s quite logical,” he agreed.
“Irala, how is Litara?”
“She is fine! She is asleep. Volper, here’s another point…”
“Yes?”
“When you go upstairs, I will lose contact with you, only
correspondence will be available.”
“I understood you. Try to get to our hangar. Wait for us there,
even if we do not respond to letters, try to get to the outpost,
and send the coordinates every half hour where you are and
where you are going to move.”
“OK. And one more thing … thanks for worrying about my
safety.”
“Not at all.”

Interrupting the connection, I grinned. Well, who else will take
care of Irala, if not me? Especially if you consider the
achievement that they gave me for her. I wonder if Alona will
kill me when she finds out that I have had another child
without her? Although I want to believe that by some
unimaginable miracle they were able to digitize it or make a
full copy, but it is worth looking at the situation clearly.
I am eager to find her, just to understand the question of who
she really is: just either an NPC or someone really made her
copy purposefully. But when I figure it out, I won’t spare
myself, get out into the real world, and even in my body in a
decrepit real-life body, I will destroy this fucking office and
wipe it from the surface of our planet. But first I need to get
evidence.
Looking at falling asleep guys, I exhaled sadly. No, I will not
do that. Let these poor children live at least here like this, and

lead a very fulfilling life. Let the servers work for only five to
ten to twenty years until they are closed due to low
profitability, but at least this time they can, even in such a
perverse way, but live, and not exist. Like it or not, but I agree
with the decision of Tilorn to stay here forever
I wonder how many groups have been formed and are now
running around the world of Alfarome along with their
curators. As I imagine, a chill comes down my spine. So it
makes no sense to rush down there, or is there any way? I
closed my eyes a little and took a deep breath, and I listened to
myself. No, I cannot just leave it, I am attracted there, to her.
To just see, talk, even if it is not that real Alona, let it be just
an inscription with her face, but it just breaks me from the
inside, it pulls so much to her. So many years passed, and I
still love her madly, and then let any skeptics say that love
does not exist and this is only sexual desire. But I know what
it is, and it’s not about sex or habits.
Starting up, I began to look around very quickly. Some kind of
sound on the verge of hearing caught my attention. So, this is
clearly not my guys. Quartz, sitting on the floor and throwing
his head back, leaning against the wall, quietly snuffles.
Castra, fitting her head on Quartz’s lap, curled up. Tilorn is
sleeping a little to the left sitting, putting one foot under
himself and dropping his chin on his chest. Opposite him,
Sargos sprawled on his side, using his arm bent at the elbow
instead of a pillow. Such fights are very exhausting, so
everyone fell asleep literally in one moment.
But the sound that attracted my attention clearly did not come
from them. It was like a very distant conversation, which
literally caught the edge of my consciousness. No matter how I
listened, I turned my left ear out of habit to the side from
where I expected to hear something, but I still did not
understand what kind of whisper it was. And I could not even
understand where it was coming from. In general, there was a
feeling that this whisper comes from the depths of my mind. It
can be just schizophrenia, oh, it can be terrifying. And then,
suddenly, the echoes of this whisper abruptly stopped. So I
was sitting the rest of my duty, listening, if I could hear it
again. When the time came, I woke up Sargos and, lying down

in his place, switched off almost instantly, catching the idea
that we didn’t take the food, so it would be necessary to
immediately address this issue after we deal with the elevator.
Tilorn woke me up a little more than half an hour before the
specified time, although Castra was on duty. Sharply opening
my eyes, I stared at Tilorn, who closed his mouth with one
hand and shook the other. Seeing that I was awake, he put a
finger to his lips, making it clear that silence must be
observed. Looking around, I found Castra down the corridor,
who was carefully watching someone, judging by the three
marks on the mini-map on that side.
As it turned out, it was the technicians who serviced the local
power grid, so we had to leave our secluded place in complete
silence. When we got out, I was a bit taken aback. The streets
were fundamentally different from what I saw yesterday: a lot
of cars that were moving very closely to each other, forming
an almost endless stream of moving technology. And there
were even more pedestrians. The flow of people went
continuously in five or six rows, more precisely, it was
difficult, this flow was constantly mixing, some tried to
overtake someone, and others either poured into the flow or
tried to leave it. Suspended automatic pedestrian belts, which
were located at different heights and allowed standing in one
place to move along the main roads, were also loaded almost
to the fullest.
It is strange that I did not see them at night. But it was stranger
to see the power excavator, which appeared at the beginning of
the alley. When we went there at night, it certainly was not
there. It seems that during the day the city simply includes all
the equipment that allows unloading the human flow. Above
us, an aero bike was moving at a low altitude, taxiing to the
main road and abruptly embedding itself in a high-speed
stream of cars with gravity engines or other devices that allow
us to drive a little over it, creating a second echelon of traffic.
“Are we still in the same city?” Tilorn asked while the others,
opening their mouths, stared around.

“It seems to be so,” I said doubtfully, shocked by what was
happening around. “So, everybody get together and do not
stare in all directions! We must not stand out, we must hide.
Quartz and will have to have to leave a shotgun and a rifle
here. Irala is not around right now, so there is no place to
hide.”
“Now, if you wait five minutes, I’ll be there,” came her voice
from the earpiece.
“Not understood.”
“I’ll come soon and explain.”

Quickly hiding big weapons behind the nearest trash can, I
opened the mini-map in full screen. The mark of Irala was
really close and, judging by her speed of movement, she will
literally be near us in a couple of minutes. While I had a
couple of minutes I tried to see what was going on above our
heads, but the jumble of various bridges, power tracks and
advertising holograms just covered the view. I was able to
count seven transport lines, along which people and vehicles
moved. This all causes a cognitive dissonance - such a striking
difference between night and day city.
Sargos gave an enthusiastic whistle, forcing me to lower my
gaze at the entrance to the alley, and I almost repeated after
our sapper. Tilorn generally hung, only Quartz struggled not
to stare in that direction, carefully glancing at Castra. A hefty
man approached us, consisting entirely of bulging muscles,
and even steel corrugated prostheses instead of hands only
added power to him, and not disfigured him. But he did not
cause such a reaction.
Next to him were two fragile girls in light airy dresses of soft
blue color, around their shoulder and neck both had a semitransparent shawl thrown over, only one had the same color as
the dress, and the second had turquoise. Both girls were
walking in high-heeled shoes. Also each had a wide-brimmed

ladies’ hat on their head, which allowed them to slightly hide
their heads with a slight tilt of the head.
The only big difference between them was in a rather large
suitcase on a gravitational pad, which one of the girls was
carrying behind a patterned handle. Coming to us, they lifted
the caps, and under them I was surprised to find Litara and
Irala.
“Well, yes, friends,” Castra pouted, “we crawl along the
sewage system, and you decide to walk through the boutiques
… And, above all, without me!”
“Castra, do not be grumpy, we have such cool little things for
you, you just rock!”

Um … Is this really Irala? And then my eyelids starts to twitch
from such drastic changes not only in the appearance, but even
in the manner of speaking. It feels like it’s not an android in
front of me now, which only a dozen hours ago successfully
participated in the battle, but some kind of local coquette lady.
Tilorn, meanwhile, was standing and looking at the man who
had come with the girls. But he could be understood, even
though he was as tall as this man, but he was clearly losing his
shoulder width with a crushing score.
“Oh, I completely forgot,” said Litara. “This is my husband,
Rachmus. As soon as he returned from the night shift, he
immediately rushed to help me, well, considering how our
clothes were worn out; we decided to drop by the store on our
way. Well, then I persuaded Irala to find you.”
“Are you Volper?” He asked in a surprisingly soft, velvety
voice, turning to me. Having received an affirmative answer,
he smiled and extended his hand to me. “Thank you for taking
care of my beauty.”

“Well, there’s nothing to be thankful for.” I shook his
outstretched hand, waiting for a rather rigid handshake from
the prosthesis, but he answered the handshake very gently.
Either the prostheses are of sufficient quality, or he has already
become accustomed to them perfectly. Letting go of his hand,
I turned to Irala and looked at her sternly.
“Don’t you want to tell me anything?”
“Um … no,” she lowered her eyes.
“Tell me, please, where you are supposed to be now?”
“In the hangar,” she pouted, puffing her lips.
“So what the hell are you doing here?”
“It was so interesting on the street, and those“ bandits ” she
singled out the last word in her voice, making it clear that they
didn’t tell the whole truth to Rachmus, “they left a long time
ago, so Rachmus offered to take me to my friends.”

Damn it, these emotional changes in her to the image of a little
girl are just unsettling, she just smiles. Eyes lowered, hands
behind her back, guilty facial expression, well, it’s just
impossible to be angry with her. I wanted, of course, to speak
about subordination, about the need to be more responsible
and a lot of things in the same way, but the presence of a
stranger stopped me. Well, I will yell at her later! And since
she likes to pretend a little girl, I’ll also put her in a corner.
“Okay,” I sighed. “What are the suggestions for our further
actions?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: THE OTHER SIDE OF
LIFE
Once again having collected all the weapons in the bag of
Irala, we entered the stream of people and headed towards the
elevator. As it turned out, I was afraid in vain of being checked
for weapon possession or something like that. A rather small
elevator, by the standards of the central one, it was designed
only for people, and it could contain about two hundred people
at a time. It went every five minutes and had only two shafts.
One shaft was responsible for the ascent, the second for the
descent and, judging by the whole structure, there is a
suspicion that the lift cabins are simply looped, making the
transition from one shaft to another, at the level of technical
corridors.
Judging by the fragments of conversations of people who were
together with us crammed into the elevator, many people
worked on the seventh or eighth level, while living on the
sixth. It was also very striking that there were a lot of people
around us who did not even have a tenth level. We had ten
seconds of ascent, and the elevator stopped at level seven. As
soon as the stream of people rushing to the exit dried up a
little, and only those who planned to go higher remained, I
commanded to my guys to leave the elevator.
“And aren’t we supposed to go on the eighth?” Quartz asked
when we had jumped out.
“Those who hunt for us, also think that we go there.”
“Understood.”

In the surroundings, at first glance, I did not notice any
fundamental changes: the same flow of people and transport,
well, buildings look a little better, and everything else is
almost the same. I did not even understand that I was now on a

different level. The only thing that really differed here was the
presence of urban transport in the form of a train on magnetic
a monorail, which allowed a maximum of several transfers to
reach any point of the level. It is clear that it still takes a lot of
time, but at least not on foot.
We decided to use this transport in order to reach another
elevator and to climb even higher with it, preferably to the
tenth level. Sitting along the windows, everyone went about
their business: Castra and Quartz again chirped about
something, Irala chatted with Lita, and Tilorn and Sargos just
rested. I stared at the city passing by out of the window, along
which we raced at great speed.
Almost immediately I caught myself thinking that I perceive
this world as reality. No, I, rather, do not perceive the world as
real, but perceive local people as living people, and not as a
program. Take, for example, Litara. From the thought that she
could lose her unborn child because of me, everything inside
me shrinks. Although, in theory, nothing could happen to them
since they are digital. But I just cannot perceive them as being
unreal. Yes, I have a thing about children, and for me they are
practically the highest value in any of the worlds.
Or the same concerns Sanych, who organizes some strange
schemes. Well, I don’t believe that with his actions he doesn’t
solve several important tasks for him at once; this old bloke is
too beaten by life. At the same time he is in resistance, and has
some weight among the Psionics: I would not be surprised if
he is known by various names in a dozen different
organizations. Well, how could each and everyone be so
thoroughly programmed?
The train began to slow down near the next station, and the
fading of buildings outside the window stopped smearing,
merging into one gray picture. When we almost stopped, a
sign struck my eyes that I just could not ignore, and I doubt
that they would be looking for us in such a place.
“Run everything out” I ordered, rushing to push through the
accumulated people who were preparing to leave.

“What happened?” Castra asked anxiously, smoothly flowing
into a position with which she could quickly enter into battle.
“Take it easy, we shall see.”

So, maybe we should go here. But no, there’s a dead end, so
this street should lead us to the building I need. In a couple of
minutes, petered into the complex architectural arrangement of
the buildings, we came to the house where I saw the sign that
interested me so much. Stopping in front of the huge glass
doors, I looked at the sign with a smile.
“Meat restaurant “de Henri””… read Tilorn. “Volper, I never
thought that you might be so quickly run to a restaurant.”
“Tilorn, honestly, I am already fed up with soup packets and
snacks. I would howl like a wolf! I am ready to stay here for an
hour, but give me a couple of pieces of usual meat!”
“Wow! I see that you like the luxury life, ” said Lita, who
came up with her husband. “It is an expensive restaurant that
serves natural meat and vegetable dishes. I didn’t even know
that they had a branch on the seventh level.”
“Oh Lord!” Quartz folded his hands in front of his chest and
lifted his head to the ceiling. “Thank you for giving us such a
commander who after so long austere chaste life finally
brought us to paradise, where there is normal food!” as soon
as he finished speaking, he immediately shook the cuff from
Castra.
“Do not joke. Although, I have to admit, I am longing to try
that delicious food.”
“And you … Did you forget anything?” intervened Sargos,
eyes pointing at Irala.
“Do not worry, everything is fine!” Irala just nodded,
confirming my words.

It was not in vain that I asked for additional functions from
Leksha for so long, one of which was a special container to
completely imitate human life?
“Well, what are you waiting for? Everyday food is waiting for
us!”

Well, what, you need to be able to get pleasure from life, the
more I really miss the normal food. Better, of course, would be
something from home-made dishes - nourishing, rich and
insanely tasty, and most importantly, made with love. But the
restaurant food is very, very tasty, especially to those starving
people like us …
Especially I was kind of able to get of that observer, who was
following us near the elevator at the sixth level, because we
jumped out of the train at the last moment. And most
importantly - in prestigious restaurants most often care about
the safety and secrecy of solvent customers is high. It is also
an important moment.
Having straightened the jacket, I again examined myself as far
as it was possible. I looked not particularly well-dressed, but I
hope the local headwaiter has enough experience of his work
not to judge the book by its cover. Having relaxed a bit, I went
to the door, changing the gait, facial expression and manner of
holding on the way. Now I looked down on the world, a slight
laziness appeared in my walk, and from all other movements I
could see through a slight disregard for those around me.
I extremely disliked this face mask, but when questions were
solved at the highest levels, I had to pull it over myself. After
all, if you recall some of my predecessors at the post, their
attempts to do what financial influential people that had the
greatest influence on the parliament did not lead to anything
good. Therefore, I then chose a different tactic and,
conversely, treated them as unworthy dirt under the nails. Of

course, I had to spend a couple of demonstrative power
actions. Yeah, and to withstand the pressure of the joint
general staff with a bunch of commissions and inspections, but
it was worth it - they began to respect me even in the highest
circles.
And now I used the manner of behaving, being developed in
elite institutions, where a lot of meetings of a young general at
that time who just took office with people who have real, not
fake power, took place. The doorman was just fine, opening
the door in front of us when I had to go through exactly three
steps, and stood still like a statue, holding the door.
The first step was I found myself at arm’s length and noticed
an open bill hanging to the right of my level display. The
second step - I am already near him, and with a lazy eye
movement I send five thousand to pay that bill. The third step I am already on the threshold of the restaurant, and I see the
head waiter rushing towards me. It was ideally calculated.
Those who are not ready for such services are likely to fail or
not have time to tip. Also, I am sure that in the mail of the
headwaiter, who, while retaining his dignity on his face, is
approaching us quickly, a description of the amount and the
reaction of both mine and the others is already presented.
Although the porter was only at the fifteenth level, the
headwaiter was proud to show his, quite surprising for this
level of Alfarome, forty-ninth level, it is clear that it is not the
first year that he has been doing this job. Perhaps even as a
reliable person, they sent him to a problem restaurant to
maintain it, because the failure of the restaurant, even in such
conditions, may affect the reputation of the entire chain of
restaurants.
Moreover, even at this level there are rich enough
personalities, because the gangsters have quite decent means,
even if they are of a low level, do not have manners and
upbringing, but always try to get into high society.
The headwaiter made an elegant and measured turn, standing a
little to the side of the trajectory of my movement, and slightly
bowed his head in greeting. He was probably the first person
to have not only a level that cannot be completely hidden, but

also a name, allowing customers to immediately call by him
by, even if they were here for the first time. In reality,
holographic badges are used for this. But Alfarome neural
interface left its mark here.
“Good afternoon!” With a slight bow, he said hello. “You
would like to have a table for eight people, as I understand
it?”

His face was shining with happiness and beheld us and
expressed full readiness to fulfill all our whims. But the eyes,
like ice needles, tried to crawl right under the skin and scan the
fullness of our personal account. And my guys added fuel to
the fire of his distrust, behaving like wild farmers, trapped in
the metropolis, staring at the sides almost with an open mouth.
Of course, there was something to see. Polymer multi-layered
finishing, imitating a real tree, near the entrance to the main
hall, small flowers in tubs, and these were the first living
plants that I saw here for the first time at all. Litara looked at
them with such trepidation that there is every reason to assume
that she also sees a living flower for the first time.
I even wondered how much theoretically it could cost to have
such a flower in a city where, I think, there is practically no
soil and there is no sun at all. And even more interesting is
how difficult it must be to care for them. So, Volper, let’s not
be distracted, we must pamper our group a little. Of course, I
don’t know local prices, but lately we’re not in distress.
Accumulated nearly fifteen million, of course, this cannot be
compared with my jackpots at the very beginning, but also
very good. I hope that after dinner in this institution we will
not be bankrupt.
“Start the bill,” I demanded. He did not ask, did not order, but
instead I demand from the headwaiter with the interesting
name Johan.

With the certain movement of two fingers held in the air from
top to bottom and to the right, revealing information about the
account, obviously long ago he had trained this gesture to have
such a function, and considering how easily and elegantly he
did it, this requirement is clearly habitual for him. With a flick
of an eye, I sent a million to him and added in a bored voice:
“When we run out of money, inform us!” I lazily looked at the
hall and, looking at the entrance to the main hall, slightly
raised one side of the upper lip. “Do you have only a general
room?”
“I can offer VIP rooms for rest and for negotiations,” coldness
was gone from his glance, and now he was completely
beaming with benevolence and courtesy — that’s what
confirms solvency to people.
“Show us your room for some rest.”
“Follow me.”

Bowing, he showed with the gesture of his hand the direction
into which he proposed we should move. By double-clicking
the fingers, I draw the attention of the others and started
moving to the place offered by the headwaiter. Johan,
immediately reacting to my movement, also began to move,
while trying to move a little to the side of me, so as not to turn
his back to me, but also a little, literally half a length, ahead, to
gently point me in the direction.
Having gone deep into the corridor on the left, having passed
several doors, Johan obligingly opened the door to one of the
rooms for us, making an inviting gesture to go inside.
Stopping next to him and not even trying to enter, I asked:

“I wonder if this establishment is aware of confidentiality.”
“Please forgive me, but we have only meeting rooms like
this,” the headwaiter disappeared a little, but almost instantly
took himself in hand.
“If you have a desire, we can provide such an office, the
nearest one is two rooms from here.”
“Show us!” I waved my hand to him, graciously allowing him
to take us to a new place.

A small meeting room really was literally through two doors
from us. There were no soft sofas, which I managed to notice
through the open door of the previous room, but everything
else was really up to standard. Upholstered leather chairs with
a high back and curved armrests, a snow-white tablecloth that
cut straight the eyes with its unnatural white color, silvercolored appliances with snow-white plates - and this all was in
the middle of a rather extensive room eight by twelve meters.
Soft hues were prevailing in the room, starting from light
turquoise-colored walls, ending with the slightly yellowish
warm light of lanterns in patterned chandeliers under the
ceiling. Going into the proposed room, I looked around and
slightly twisted. So be it, graciously accepted the proposed
place for our lunch.
“It will do for us,” I said, commanding the others to sit down
along the way.
“The waiter will come in exactly ten minutes to get your
order,” Johan bowed. “Holographic menu is in the right
armrest of each chair. In the left armrest there is call for the
waiter and unlock the door.”

Then, taking a step back, he left the room, closing the door
behind him. The guys wanted to start something to say, but I
did not give it to them, immediately commanding:
“Check for additional equipment.”

After two minutes of examination of the room by the guys,
Irala found one well-camouflaged camera and a wellcamouflaged microphone. Well, I expected something like
that, I am even sure that the information obtained in this way
does not leave the establishment further, but is used solely as
an improvement in service.
“Break it!”

After they had carried out the order and further confirmed that
there was nothing left in the room of unwanted equipment, I
finally allowed myself to return to my normal manner of
behaving and talking. Flopping on one of the chairs, I almost
spread over it.
“Now you can relax and ask questions,” I told the others.
“I will ask, probably, from everyone … What was that?”
Tilorn moved his fingers in the air, apparently hinting at my
behavior.
“And it was the status behavior of the usual fat cat who, due to
some kind of misunderstanding, got into such a cesspool and
barely found a more or less decent a establishment.”
“Um … I didn’t understand,” said Irala sadly, looking from
me to the other team members.

“Volper simply portrayed a harmful rich man, so that they
wouldn’t get us kicked out of here straight from the door,”
Tilorn decided to explain.
“Why did he portray a very demanding one?”
“Dear Irala, unfortunately, the wealthy are practically all
demanding, and they have a scornful attitude towards the
others,” Litara shook her head sadly.
“So, did we come here for lunch or talking?” I asked,
simultaneously activating a hologram of the menu, “whatever
you want, and I will prepare for the arrival of the waiter at
least to know the names of the dishes.”

Immersing in the menu, I began to look for the name of the
dish, which I would find interesting. Well, what’s the
difference what to choose if I haven’t eaten absolutely any of
this? But I almost immediately from the reading heard a cry of
Castra.
“What the fuck, look at the prices here! Fucking steak a la
something there - seventy thousand.”
“Yeah, and you should look at the information about the dish,”
Tilorn muttered.
“WHAT? Kill me now. For such big money, they serve steak
from an ordinary meat-eater? Yes, we have recently been
giving it up for parts for a little more than five thousand.”
There was simply no limit to Castra’s outrage. “At least they
are not offering stuffed rat.”
“The third page, item number forty-seven “Stuffed rats in soy
sauce,”” I rejoiced her. “I suspect that rat is nothing like a
first-class rat. Or look at the fifty-third position “Ratatouille
from rat tails smoked in various ways.””
“Are they torturing us?” Castra asked with a slightly panicky
tone in her voice, and judging by the faces of the others, they
had roughly similar thoughts.

“Castra, calm down, no one is mocking us here,” picking up a
couple of items from the menu and closing it; I clasped my
hands in front of me and stared at our scout. “You probably
forgot what’s going on around here. It is a completely closed
city, in which no one even thought about breeding animals
specifically for slaughter, because even people do not have
enough space. This is the first point. And now turn your head
and look at Litara with her husband, they already have saliva
just from the names themselves; therefore accept as a fact that
in this world even rat meat is valued at the level of a culinary
delight.”

Castra, slamming her mouth, paused, thinking about my
words. It took her only five seconds to get my words to her.
“Sorry,” she admitted her mistake, “but the prices here are
really high.”
“Well, what did you want from a luxury establishment? Prices
should be high. And, most likely, the quality of cooking is also
very high.”

I just stopped talking, as they knocked on the door, and a
holographic image of a waiter appeared at the right armrest,
waiting at the door.
“Excuse me, are you ready to order?” The voice came from
the built-in speakers.

Unlocking the door, I made it clear to the waiter that we were
ready to place an order. Having carefully entered, he stopped a
few steps away from me and stood in a slight half-bow, ready

to accept the order. In fact, he was not needed here; we could,
using the functionality of the menu, simply send the list of
required dishes directly to the chef. Or, having paid only thirty
percent of the price of the dish, immediately the order is sent
to the chef. But the presence of a living person who accepts
the order was, as I suspect, a certain tribute to the traditions of
the first restaurants. Well, or just the requirements of the status
of the institution.
“Garson, I would like meat medallions in mushroom sauce
and on mashed potatoes, and, probably, DelFato soup. And
that young lady over there,” I pointed out at Litara,
“something with vitamins, she will soon be the mother.”
“Please accept my congratulations,” the waiter immediately
responded, “in this case I can offer vitamin salad from fresh
vegetables, the batch arrived the day before yesterday from
one private greenhouse at the ninth level.”

Well … The day before yesterday vegetables were mentioned
with such pride, as if fresh pickled cucumbers and tomatoes
were being served to you at the North Pole. But I will not draw
attention to this, just a couple of minutes ago having
reprimanded Castra.
“It’s ok, and her young man wants some meat raw or medium.
The rest, I think, will voice their orders.”

A slight nod of the head, indicating that my order is accepted,
he is already focusing his attention on the rest of my group,
expecting an order from them. And I strenuously begin to look
for some kind of popcorn substitute, preparing for a quite
cheerful show. My expectations were not met only by Sargos,
who tritely opened the menu so that the waiter could see,

jabbed at several items, I suspect, in general at random and
leaned back in his chair, watching the others.
Castra, having calmed down a bit after her indignation, just a
couple of minutes tormented the waiter with inquiries from the
category “and what is this, and how is this cooked?” She
graciously ordered a couple of sweet desserts and a small side
dish, seasoning it with very expensive sublimated tea. But
Tilorn and Quartz came off to the fullest, practically pulling
out the waiter with questions in turn. He barely had time to
answer them. I even caught his shocked gaze a couple of
times. Well, what to do if the guy was not used to ordinary
raiders from level five who can go to their place, which just
have to give a fuck for all these conventions and knowledge of
the correctness of the names of some dishes. Irala acted much
easier simply by repeating the order of Castra.
On the one hand, it is a pity for such money for fairly
primitive dishes by the standards of reality, but on the other
hand, we got quite a lot of experience, and most importantly, I
gave my guys the opportunity to think about the local food
problem: the difference between ordinary hard workers and
local authorities. I do not know whether this will be useful to
them in the future or not, but at least next time they will not
behave like collective farmers in the city.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: NEW ASPECTS AND THE
GREATS OF THE WORLD
Only did we have time to finish with the ordered food, as
someone knocked on the door. Activating the screen in the
armrest, I was almost instantly tense. Here it comes again…
Damn, I was sure that I got rid of all the observers. There
were, of course, a couple of options that had the right to life,
but some of them were simply unreal, and the others were just
improbable. Each of the options is extremely unpleasant. But
what to do, life sometimes does send such unbelievable turns.
Well, as one of the ancient philosophers said … or it was an
actor … no, probably, a musician … in short, it doesn’t matter.
What did they say there: “The show must go on…”
“Come in, do not hesitate!” I invited the visitor, unlocking the
door. “Right, I shouldn’t keep you waiting any longer; by the
way, we were waiting for you. Frankly speaking, I was
thinking of ordering the second course.”

With a flick of my hand, I made Sargos leave his place, at the
same time showing the sign “Play with me.” While Sargos was
freeing the chair and helpfully holding it back, until the visitor
crouched, I panicked how to get out of this asshole. He sat
down opposite me in a mannered way, putting his hands in
front of him, stretching his legs, and then he started the
conversation with a confession.
“Honestly, I was a little surprised to know that you were
expecting me. I thought you would start to panic, and try to
find a way out. And I could see you quietly sitting and eating.
I’m amazed, I’m really amazed,” and he patted one hand on
the other barely touching.

Sender: Irala
Text of the letter:
Keep him for a couple of seconds; I connected to the local
wireless network, looking for information on him.

“Not at all, I don’t need applause,” and I took a relaxed
position. Since Irala says that we need to drag time, then we
will do so. “I do not deserve it. I just decided at leisure to have
a light snack. And then, you know, the local rhythm of life is a
bit tiring and hectic and it wets my appetite.”
“Yes, I fully agree with you, on this level, the entire time
running, which is just awfully exhausting,” he shook his head
sympathetically.

Sender: Sargos
Text of the letter:
I installed a grenade with my fuse under the chair, waiting
for the command.

“Sorry, you mentioned that you kind of expected me to try and
find a way out. Please explain why you are of such a bad
opinion of me.”
“I beg you to forgive me, I already see perfectly well that my
analytical department has long been over clocked; they are
obviously not being well- paid. Just a misunderstanding
occurred, for some reason they predicted that you would begin
to show aggression and try to escape. Although, on the
contrary, you are chatting with me in a relaxed way, and, to
my highest admiration, it is enough in a pleasant manner” he

spread his hands to the side, ostensibly admitting his mistake.
“But why are we all talking about such trifles? I probably keep
you. Therefore, I propose to deal directly with the issues I need
to discuss with you.”
“No, no, sir, you do not delay me; all the more I just wanted to
order a dessert for the ladies here. Therefore, I have time for
such a sophisticated conversation.” Damn it, why is Irala
messing around, I was already tired of snaking around in front
of this dude. “Therefore, if you do not mind, I suggest enjoying
the local pastry having a pleasant conversation.”
“That would be just great,” he smiled.\

And then I thought to myself, well, where the hell you run
away now, you are the fool; you yourself began to lead such a
high-level dialogue here, now it is necessary to comply with
the rules. Although there are suspicions that he does not show
off, but in fact he constantly communicates in such a manner.
But whatever one may say, it will give us a couple of extra
minutes, which I just desperately need to come up with a plan.
Here we had him to come by at such an inappropriate time. I
still do not know what kind of type he is, but only his level
makes me worry. Again, smearing my eyes over his head, I
was convinced that this did not seem to me.
Unknown character, level 284

So, Volper, we don’t get upset, we work further, the guys are
ready and they are waiting only for my order to take action.
Tilorn laid his hand on the armrest so that, by activating the
shield, he covered most of the group. Castra slightly turned her
legs, allegedly taking a more feminine pose, but I can clearly
see how the installed impulse in the sole barely glows in the
“steady” mode. Quartz is doing something in one place; I
cannot understand what he is preparing there, but obviously

some kind of dirty trick. Having made an order through the
interface, I finally waited for a message from Irala.
Sender: Irala
Text of the letter:
I finally found information on him. Christopher De-Line is
the head of the security service of the Vintrain weapons
company. By the way, it is very strange that the company
has existed for more than a thousand years, but until now
it has not grown into a corporation. Also, all attempts to
absorb it by larger corporations failed. Looking for
information further, it is very difficult for this type to at
least find something in public databases.

Well, well, well … Why did we interest him? In the meantime,
we were served dessert, and when the waiter who had brought
it left, I decided to make our dialogue flow faster a little bit.
“I hope you are enjoying the dessert, Christopher. The
restaurant specializes in other dishes, but they say that they
have quite good desserts.”
“Hmm … Well, your awareness of my personality is quite
commendable, and desserts are really good here. But, I think,
we will set it aside for a while, and while the ladies are
enjoying the excellent desserts, let us move on to the question
for which I came here.”
“I am all ears!”

Having pushed dessert aside, I leaned back in my chair and
prepared to listen, simultaneously reading a new letter from
Irala, while trying not to even move the pupils so as not to
give myself away. Before that, I hid my eye movement,

looking into the dish, which I was engaged in along with our
conversation, but in the current position, he perfectly sees my
whole face, and this must be taken into account.
Sender: Irala
Text of the letter:
I opened one database, which was not well-secured. There
is little information on him. Presumably he is about six
hundred years old and there are still a lot of replications
left. The estate of the De-Line family is on the sixteenth
level, the family currently includes from twelve to fifteen
people, two of whom are children - a boy Egor and a girl
Angelica, who are the grandchildren of Christopher.
According to unverified data, his father Samuel De-Line,
who seems to hold the position of adviser to one of the
members of the government, is still alive.

She gave me information in small chunks as she found it. At
the same time I managed to calmly enjoy the dessert. Of
course, she did not feel the taste, but very successfully
imitated her enjoyment of this dish. Then I read her messages,
and understood what this Christopher is like. One of the greats
of this world came to visit us. He is the one who has real
power in this world, not just status. But I cannot understand
why he needs us. Of course, the option remains that he also
needs the “soul”, but I doubt it, he would just give the
command to his people to get it out of us in any way, and not
come personally.
“According to the information I have, you, Volper, are a very
interesting person! You came here not so long ago in our
society, but already managed to acquire a number of quite
interesting friends. To my surprise, even Stepanenko spoke
very positively about you, and there were only a dozen such
cases in my memory.”

Hmmm, here’s the difference in possibilities, he even managed
to talk about me with that security man, though I still don’t
understand why this Stepanenko spoke so well about me, but
now this is not the issue.
“So,” he continued. “I have a situation when I need a team of
high-quality fighters. That’s why, I rushed here.”
“Strange, I would never believe that the De-Lines lack their
own military capacities,” I questioned his words.
“You are right; I have more than enough military power. But
the peculiarity of the task does not allow me to use them. I
need just a small, but extremely powerful group. But,
unfortunately, I don’t have such people; basically everyone is
trained to work in large divisions.”
“But why then my group? Even if we take only replicants,
there are many groups stronger than mine.”
“I tried working with some of them, even with the team that is
considered the best of the replicants. By the way, they were
people from the same outpost as you, only three people, but at
the moment they have about the eightieth level. As the other
replicants - they are the “TOPs”. And the members of this
group are strangely positioning themselves as professional
gamers. But they failed the task, but according to my bad
analysts, you have a lot more chances to perform it, even
though I honestly didn’t believe them at first.”
“And what is this task that the group of pros could not cope
with, and why would I have a better chance for it?”
“I would like to discuss this issue with you personally,” while
he saw the eyes of the others, making it clear that his further
words were not for their ears.
But no one even moved hearing such a remark. Oh no, Litara
and her husband, who were twitching at the exit, reacted, but

noticing that the others completely ignored Christopher, they
sat down again. The situation is straightforward, I was
expecting a lot of things, but that I would be offered a job … I
didn’t have such a thought even in the most incredible
assumptions.
“The gentleman is asking for a private conversation,” I turned
to my group. “Let’s respect his request”.

It was after this that everyone began to move, getting up from
the table and going out into the corridor. When only
Christopher and I remained in the room, well, except for the
fact that the guys bombed me with letters, he moved on to a
more direct conversation.
“Your chances are much higher because you have practically
a unique set and, I am sure, you will soon acquire the
necessary profession. This is only a matter of time, and it will
not very long. Considering how you broke through the Almotek
security forces that hunted for you, analysts changed the
chance of you getting the profession of Scurfifer from eighty to
ninety-five percent. And in my memory, they gave the highest
chance of ninety-eight. It was their estimates that made me pay
attention to your group.”
“It’s all very nice to say,” I interjected, when he paused for a
second. “But this does not reveal the essence of the question.”
“Yes, you are right. I need you to reach the zero level, find one
person there and give him a message, if necessary, escort him
here to the upper levels.”
“I will not ask stupid questions about the letter and
replication, and so it is clear that everything is not so simple,
but I just do not understand why you decided that we could do
it.”

“The main problem is mutant people and psionics, with whom
we now have almost an undeclared war. But your Scurfifer
status gives you one interesting bonus; if you have the “Soul of
Seraphim”, you and everyone who is in your group will get
neutral status. Accordingly, you will not be marked for them as
an aggressive element. And with ordinary monsters, I think
you can deal.”
“It is a much unexpected offer, but what will we have from
this?”
“As an advance payment, you will be immediately delivered to
the center of the professions, and within fifteen minutes you
will get the profession of Scurfifer. As payment on completion I will give you all the missing elements of the set
“Seraphim”.”
“I have one question,” I decided to clarify. “How far was the
previous group able to move?”
“They made five attempts, before they abandoned the contract,
they reached the first level five times, and all five times there
they encountered by mobile psionic squads, who simply cut
them out.”
“As far as I understand, the remaining details only after
signing the contract?”
“Absolutely!”
“I need five minutes to think it over.”

Rising and going out into the corridor, I leaned my forehead
against the wall and was deep in my thoughts. Right here and
right now, everything that is happening around tends to move
to a completely different level. It is no longer just raids
hunting for monsters, not dealing with corporations that think
too much about themselves. Now it depends only on my
answer whether we are moving into a new league or staying
floundering and further in the ranks of the average raider. Or I
should take a risk, and then we will start the game in the ranks
of the powerful and mighty people, but we should not forget

that every action, and even more a mistake, has a completely
different weight and sometimes has a very heavy burden of
responsibility.
Are the others ready for this? Or maybe I should refuse?
Where it will lead us if we agree to go on this adventure? How
would Carefire act in this case? What will Sanych say? Will
this not cause us in problems with other really serious
personalities of Alfarome? A lot of questions and no answers.
Turning and leaning back against the wall, I slid along it to the
floor. I clasped my chin with left hand and gazed thoughtfully
at the toes of my shoes.
Asking other members of my team does not make any sense,
let alone discourage them from undertaking this. They have
long shown their attitude towards me, and no matter what I
say, they will follow me further. I don’t even think at all about
Litara and her husband, I’ll ask to have them taken back home.
I understand that Litara was sent by Carefire and, as it were,
look after us because he asked her to, but now a little more
serious personalities came into play. No, I, of course, can
refuse this offer and continue to break through to the tenth
level, get a profession and return to the outpost. But to lose
such a chance…
…My head was just spinning with thoughts, and the
subconscious was already buzzing, processing arrays of
available information, trying to find the best possible solution
in this situation, and no matter how I considered this proposal,
it was most advantageous to accept this contract. No wonder
that the first group agreed to it. But if this is the three pros I
saw on the first day when I was carrying the corpse of the
meat eater, then they are really professional players. Although
in this game it does not really help them, because there are so
few game conventions, on the masterly use of which real
gamers leave. Here we need real fighters who know how to
fight for their lives.
I looked around at my team members, who stood in a semicircle around me with serious faces on. Even forever positive
Quartz with a serious face on was holding Castra by the
shoulder so that she would not distract me, in a woman’s way

twitching to calm or help in a difficult moment. They all also
understand how serious my conversation with Christopher
was, perhaps they even suspected how this all might turn out
for us. But I could definitely say, peering into these currently
serious faces, I realized that they were now worried about me.
Well, it is all decided: we shouldn’t miss such a chance. I don’t
know how much I’m left with, but if they have local support in
such high circles, this will make their life much easier for
them. Therefore, rising, I firmly walked back into the room
with an answer. But I will not forget about the interests of the
rest of my team.
“I agree, but with a few additional conditions.”
“What are they?” Christopher frowned.
“You are to provide us with weapons and ammunition for the
whole group.”
“I agree, it is of my interest; the better equipped you are, the
higher the chance of successful completion of the contract.”
“Next, our start is in one or even two weeks.”
“It is far too long,” he grimaced. “I’ve lost too much time
already.”
“It will not work out the other way; we will need to get used to
the new ammunition and work out new tactics, taking into
account the peculiarities of the new weapons and protection.”

He squeezed his lips and began banging his fingers on the
knee, looking, comparing the risks in contrast to his desire for
a quicker solution to his problem. In the meantime, I got
another letter.
Sender: Carefire
Text of the letter:

I don’t know what De-Line wants from you there, but I beg
you very much, don’t do anything freaky. This is
absolutely not the man you can argue with, it is better to
just let go of everything and may it be as it is.
Otherwise, we will have to take you very deep
underground, and that is not a fact that will help.

Well, Litara has already reported to Carefire, and this
Christopher is worrying him a lot. I am worried too.
“Five days is enough for you?” He came out of his thoughts.
“Only if there is a large training ground, but it will be hard.”
“I will find the ground, do not worry about it. Anything else?”
“Well, it is necessary to give rewards to my guys.” He raised
his eyebrows up from such a statement.
“Aren’t you their commander?”
“I am, but do you want maximum efficiency or the medium
one?”

Here I’ve was a little bluffing; nothing will change for the
reward for them personally, but it’s a stupid thing not to use
the opportunity to get an extra reward.
“Well, three items with my personal weapon for each. But you
will need to complete the task for the first time.”
“Agreed, we undertake the contract, send me the contract.”

The huge document sent to me, almost made me wonder. Yes,
there are about a million characters! Looks like I’ll have to
spend some time here.
“Do you mind if my group returns? Otherwise I wouldn’t be
able to quickly deal with this contract.”
“No, of course not. I will even keep you company so that we
can quickly solve controversial issues. For me it is very
important to resolve this issue.”

For four and a half hours, the whole group had been dealing
with the contract. Each member got a part, which they
carefully re-read and searched for various pitfalls. Well, except
perhaps for Litara, who, together with her husband, went home
in a corporate car of the De-Line family. Irala got the bulk of
the text; or rather ninety percent of this text was in her hands.
Well, what to do if her electronic mind is much faster to cope
with such an array of information. To my surprise, there was
even an item about getting a profession. When I showed it to
Christopher, he also could not hide his surprise.
“Strange, this item was not here. Looks like the Server decided
to add restrictions from its part. But this is only to our
advantage; it will be easier to settle questions in the center of
the professions.”

To summarize the information in the paragraph, it turned out
that the Server will assign me this task as a test for the
profession. And if I fail, I lose the status of the Scurfifer. It
turns out that I will get it now, so to speak, in advance. It’s just
not clear why the Server makes such concessions, what kind of
algorithms it has developed so that it became possible. Judging
by Christopher who has gone into himself, he is now also

tormented by this question, and this, moreover, that he is most
likely one of the most knowledgeable people about the Server.
As they say, the farther we go, the more puzzles we have. I
already have three reasons to start the descent, which are not
related to each other. But now even the Server pushes me to it.
Damn, every day more and more questions and no answer. I
will soon start to get confused in local misunderstandings.
In general, with trials and tribulations, we managed to read
this agreement, making only two changes, and minor ones,
which could be ignored. But already from the principle I
decided to insist on them, for good reason we had killed so
much time. At the same time, they showed that we really
studied it, and not just ran our eyes for a tick.
When we left the restaurant, a million credits came back to
me, which I paid off to Johann for our lunch. To my inquiring
raised eyebrows, he gracefully bowed and said:
“Lunch at the expense of our establishment.”

Now I know who handed me over to Christopher, and I before
tried to understand who informed of me. Already even began
to think that I’m quite forgetful in old age, as they say, not all
observers were noticed and got rid of. And here everything is
quite simple. On the street a car was waiting for us! I cannot
even choose the right definition of this device. A black
lacquered cigar six meters long, which gently swayed thirty
centimeters above the level of the ground, while not having
visible protrusions or devices that could allow it to soar. It was
also completely incomprehensible how it managed to turn if
necessary.
Inside this transport it was furnished with chic: huge soft
sofas, covered with the skin of one of the mutants, a mini-bar,
a desk with a holographic display and a laser sensor, a lot of
built-in technology and the complete absence of the driver and
I did not even see the controls.

“Get in! Forty minutes and we will right there.”
“How come forty minutes?” Quartz could not stand the
silence. “But the distance is rather big.”
“If you traveled by conventional transport, then yes,” he
smiled. “But my super-car develops a speed much higher than
usual transport.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: WHAT TO DO NEXT
AND WHAT TO EXPECT
If you look at the control screens, we are now rushing at a high
speed under the ceiling of the seventh level and, judging by
the direction of movement, we are approaching the edge of the
level. It seems that the car cuts the way, just flying out of the
level zone, and there it is already moving up or down without
unnecessary hindrances and loops, which is very reasonable if
we take into account our current speed, which will need to be
reset during any maneuver so as not to crash into any obstacle.
But while I have some free time, I decided to rummage around
my brain again, and no matter how many times I tried to put
everything together, something would always distract me, just
some kind of Murphy’s Law in action. As soon as I begin to
strengthen my reasoning and try to unravel the whole mystery
of events in my head, something should happen, and it cannot
be ignored. Well, I’ll try again, I have about ten minutes.
So, it is necessary to forget the recent events and remember
that I was very much stressed out at first. But I don’t
remember what exactly took me to the side from the main
events. And the very first sign was probably the presence of
just incredibly real pain in the game, although it is very
strange that developers decided to introduce such thrills. How
they have done this is out of the question, the capsules directly
affect the brain receptors apart from the rest of the body, and at
least developers say so, explaining the transfer of visual
images.
And any amateur just like me knows, pain is a signal alert of
nerve endings about a problem in a certain area of the body,
and they are transmitted to the brain by a certain kind of
signal. So if they can transmit visual signals directly to the
brain, then they can send any other types of whatnot, forcing
our brain to experience almost any feeling.
But here the question arises: Why? I do not argue that in order
to make the game more realistic, pain and other feelings and
senses are simply necessary, but you could make it less

powerful by a third than in reality, it would be still felt, but it
would not repel potential users. Stop it! I started from the
wrong thing; I caught up with this moment only because it was
the brightest flashback on my first day here.
Hmm … what was before that … Absence of a noobie zone, I
mean, near the place of appearance in the game there was no
specific zone where the player could safely raise their first
levels, getting acquainted with the basics of the game. Or there
should be at least a training zone, where there is an
opportunity to look at your results on handling weapons, like
at least a usual shooting gallery with targets at a distance of
five and ten meters. There should be a place where you can
just see bullets scatter. Um … it looks like I got distracted
again.
After all, the very first oddity was the time when I was
creating a character. I remember there was a lack of the ability
to properly distribute the initial characteristics features, as well
as limits in the maximum value can be guessed only by trial
and error. There was a poor and concise description of the
choice of races. It seems there’s nothing particularly strange,
considering that this is the first launch of the game server,
most of the developers at first are all bad.
Probably because of this, I did not particularly attach
importance to such factors. But, looking from now after some
time spent here and considering how everything works out in
detail, then such details at the beginning look very strange.
Not knowing all the details, I don’t dare to assert something
unequivocally, but at the moment there are several
assumptions. Probably, absolutely all technical workers were
busy with internal content, and there simply was no time left
for the login page, respectively, it was created at the last
moment in the trial mode.
But the functionality which was laid down in the starting page,
especially for mutants and cyborgs, shows something
completely different - there is simply the broadest toolkit and
features. This leads to another supposition that the game itself
was made by some developers, and the starting page was left
at the mercy of someone from outsourcing, which simply

sketched the visual frame and installed already introduced
functionality. This idea is already more viable, and if we
consider all this with only the starting information in hand,
everything is quite logical.
But here comes another oddity. Why were there no starting
kits at all at the outset, or at least where to go and what to do?
One gets the feeling that we were then simply imprinted with
virtual bodies and abandoned to the mercy of fate. It is very
reminiscent of the examination task in many military
structures, where the fighter was thrown into aggressive
conditions even without primary instruction, and, of course,
without any equipment, and his task was not only to survive,
but also to complete the task.
Ordinary players are here in this game and they are not pros,
or just considered civilians without any special training. For
the most part, at first, they simply hung around, asking each
other what to do. And if you remember how the crowd that
had already jumped into the street, having heard about the
activation of the neural interface, rushed back in search of
specialized activation specialists, I think that many people
managed to even jump out of the perimeter, even without
knowing how to activate it.
In general, it is strange how in the end everyone was able to
activate it in that confusion … Or maybe not everyone
managed to? Oh, I remembered! When Litara activated my
neural interface for me, a message popped up with a greeting
that I was able to activate it with the official Government. But
then something distracted me and I lost this thread of thoughts.
But now, having the information about the existence of a
number of competing organizations, especially some of them
are in conflict with the Government, and the Server is
somehow blind to it without giving them colour markings, it
can be assumed that there were many options for activating the
interface.
Something reminds me of it, where did I see such a scheme? ..
Fuck, oh, nothing … These are children! Children have
exactly the same scheme: until a certain age they do not
receive a neural interface and cannot replicate, even though

they still have piconites in their bodies. They have this,
perhaps, due to puberty, too much like the average age of
receiving a neural interface. But why do the players get it in
the same way?
If we continue to draw an analogy, it is quite possible that the
players who did not receive the interface and managed to die
could no longer enter their character, or I am mistaken … So,
for the time being, we’ll leave this question open, and we’d
better do it differently.
Recipient: Siniami
Text of the letter:
Hey! I suppose you’re not happy with my letter. But sorry,
everyone is trying to pursue their own interests. But at that
moment they were extremely different from us. OK, so I
am writing to you because I urgently need some
information! And yes, it will be useful for both you and
your sponsor. By the way, as for that sponsor… We are, of
course, two old assholes, he and I, but you seem to be more
quickly oriented to a changing situation, you could either
give him information long ago how to contact me through
letters, or give me his email. Returning to the information,
you need to find out what happened to the players who
managed to die before receiving a neural interface. I would
be very grateful for such information. And if you continue
to sulk at me for my antics, we can discuss the price of this
information.

So, I will get back to the questions later. For now, she will
notice the letter, and while she is considering whether to reply
to it all, well, I’ll just give a bit more time for her to shout at
everyone, plus gather the information or simply sort out her
thoughts what to give to me and what to keep. We’ve got a lot
of time, so for now let’s go further in weirdness.

The view on the control screen made me pay all my attention
to the picture that opened up in front of me. On the one hand,
what all the young people were staring at, they were looking at
the very edge of such a pyramid, barely noticeably rounded
edges of each level layered one above the other, and even with
the naked eye it was clear that the higher the level, the thinner
it was, creating a semblance of pyramid edges.
All this magnificence, which shattered the imagination with its
scale, was thickly entwined with the veins of a huge pipeline,
where the smallest pipe was about ten meters in diameter,
maybe even a little more. On the outside of these pipes, it
seems, there were all communications wires connecting
various levels. Looking back, I noticed that Tilorn stared at the
screens on the opposite side with an extremely thoughtful
look, and was scratching his head with the fingers of his right
hand.
Turning back there, I, just as he, stared, carefully studying the
image of the anthracite-black surface, on which flashes of soft
dark-gray lights overflow periodically ran. It was not
something incredibly beautiful, but I was interested in a
different thing, and Tilorn was clearly not interested in the
beauty of the flashes. The surface, which was displayed on the
screen, had a slight bend vertically, and the same distance was
constantly maintained within it and the edges of the levels,
despite the fact that each successive level tried to move away
from it, squeezing its borders.
“What is it?” I turned to Christopher, with a nod of my head
pointing at the screen from which I had just looked away.
“You mean this?” He said sighing, and decided to answer my
question. “These are the walls of our so-called prison.”
Seeing my misunderstanding, he had to explain in more detail.
“These are the walls of the protective sphere, well; at least, we
hope that they have a protective function. Judging by the data
that we have, Alfarome is inside a sphere of such material.
What it consists of is not yet known to us. Even when a group
of scientists, despite fears of destroying the integrity of the
protective sphere, attempted to take a sample of it, a burst of

unknown energy escaped from it and simply split them into
atoms. And the strangest thing is that they later did not appear
in their replication capsules.”
“Why exactly a sphere, and not, for example, a dome?” No, I
would shut the mouth of Quartz, so that he would not
intermeddle with his questions. Though, I have to admit; now
his question is most welcome.
“Because, young man, Alfarome consists of sixteen+ levels
and sixteen - levels, which are located deep in the earth.
Between them there are five levels of suspended sewage, then a
zero level and five more levels of underground sewage. Our
sphere, presumably, is covered up by the ground up to one
half, so the surface of the earth forms the so-called zero level.
It is the place where you need to get to.”
“And cannot you just go down on this vehicle?” Quartz did
not stop questioning.
“Unfortunately not. This, as you put it, vehicle can only
descend to the sixth level, below there are no special
transmitters, more precisely, they should be there, but, most
likely, they are simply de-energized.”
“And what about the central elevator?” damn it, are they
conspired today? Castra joins in with her question.
“If the Server allowed the central elevator to go below the
fifth, you would only reach the first level, because below the
central column is completely monolithic, without a void. It is
because of this, and also because of the stupid theory that the
central control board over the entire city is at the zero level,
my daughter went there on a scientific expedition.
Unfortunately, when she got there, we lost all contact with her.
Before that, I had been sure of the correctness of this action, I
even helped to select protection and promising scientists. It
was only a few days after the loss of the connection that I
remembered the incident with the scientists who tried to take
the samples of the sphere for testing. It was at that moment
that I really became afraid for my daughter.”
“And you cannot send a large armed detachment, because the
Psionics will perceive it as a threat and fight against them,

which will lead to another round of war,” I voiced my
thoughts in my ear. After that, a single thought flashed in my
head. Well, again I interrupted my attempts to sort out the
local oddities. Okay, I’ll wait for the answer from Siniami and
I will continue to analyze the information. In the meantime,
I’d better focus on the information that Christopher gives.
“Exactly,” he admitted that I was right. “Especially for large
military units, they almost immediately oppose sufficiently
large forces of their own. Therefore, only small groups like
yours have a chance to break through.”
“Sorry,” Castra spoke again, a little embarrassed. “Maybe this
is a tactless question … But why are you sure that your
daughter is still alive? After all, as I understood, those
scientists died 100%, since they did not appear in the
replication capsules, and your daughter can also …” she
finally hesitated, without completing the sentence.
“It’s okay,” Christopher replied, rubbing the bridge of his
nose. “Using some privileges, and having paid a rather high
price, I learned directly from the Server that she was still
alive, and even managed to bargain for an alert in case of her
final death, if such should happen. But in spite of the extremely
high price paid by me, I could only find out this information. I
don’t know where she is and in what condition, I do not know.
There are only a dozen coordinates at the zero level, where she
was going to go as far as possible.”
“Could she just get into another replication capsule?” Tilorn,
apparently, remembered the warning at the sixth level, when
we tried to escape from the groups of Almotek Corp.
“No, her personal replicator is powerful enough to completely
cover the area up to the fifth level of the underground sewage
system, maybe even reach the minus first or second level, but
this is not accurate information, there are a lot of possible
factors, so she should have enough power to get to her
replicator with a margin.”

Everyone was silent again for a moment, each of my team
members thinking their own thoughts. Again, I tried to catch
not completely the lost thread of my thoughts on the weirdness
of Alfarome. But then the envelope of the incoming letter
blinked in my interface.
Sender: Siniami
Text of the letter:
Hi to you! When I find you, I will definitely try to kill you.
So you’d better keep hiding where you are now from my
eyes. Well, as to the information, we have one analyst who
dealt with, at the very beginning this issue, but none of the
people who were involved in this case could find a single
player who would have managed to die before receiving a
neural interface. So in this matter, it still needs looking
into, although I’m writing this letter to you now and I can
remember the chaos in the first days, and I can’t believe
that there were no such people at all. Therefore, I sent your
question to our supervisor, as well as your contact data for
correspondence. So, when you see a letter from a stranger,
do not delete it immediately, but read it first. By the way, I
still can’t understand where you went, I haven’t seen you
at the outpost for quite a long time, even though you didn’t
move out of that semi-accessible building - I’ve already
clarified this information. So where are you hiding? Or did
you find a new dungeon?

She is being so naughty, why should I tell her everything and
show everything. She will wait, ok, I’ll leave it unanswered.
What do we get, even under the condition that no one knew
that you need to activate the neural interface, there was not a
single loser who managed to die without having activated it,
and that’s more than a million players who rushed into the
game on the first day. I cannot believe. But why then is there
no information about them? Given the current trend that
almost everyone keeps a blog or a section in any forum, I

doubt that this information would not have leaked out
somewhere. So we put this item to bank of oddities.
We are going ahead, the next moment, which I absolutely do
not understand, is me myself. Why on earth the first thing I did
was rush to buy a weapon and go over the walls to try and kill
the evil for the first time? At first, I blamed it on the problem
of the randomness of my decisions at the first time, as Tilorn
explained a little later; this was due to my low indicator of
Reasoning. But even from this point of view, after observing
myself a little, I now realize perfectly well that my
spontaneous decisions concerned exclusively instant actions.
As a result, it turns out that I completely, unreasonably at the
very beginning got into a groove. But I’m far from a pimply
kid who could just succumb to the general mood and rush to
try my character in the wake of euphoria. Taking into account
the fact that the owners of this virtual reality can potentially
influence the brain, this leads to very bad premonitions.
What else … Yeah, a lot of things! The elaboration of the
characters fascinates me a lot, where even a janitor has a
complete background and a very well-written emotional
portrait. Almost all gaming conventions are absent in the
game. Well, I agree that most people will immediately say that
the neural interface and characteristics are responsible for
everything. But, in fact, this is just a well-developed
technology. Usual tactical interface that is displayed on the
visor combat helmet, is similar in its capabilities. Yes, I agree,
the difference in the level of debugging and the levels of
development of a tactical interface with a local one is
comparable as a toy cruiser with its real combat equivalent.
But this is just a different level of technology development.
And even Psionics are looking good in this picture, I came
across them in reality, and I can say that they are capable of
less than their local counterparts, but they exist.
Moreover, these mysterious deaths, which Andrew told me
about, do not seem to fit into the picture of what is happening,
but they are also associated with the developers of this game.
Well, it’s like a cherry on a cake, the appearance of Alona,
who just knocked the ground from under my feet? So, having

a great deal of scattered information, I can only attribute it to
several versions, although some elements of the mosaic still do
not fit into its place.
To begin with, let us take the current assumption that this
world is not a game, but reality, which I am sure about eighty
percent of that now. Also, behavior, emotions and dialogues fit
perfectly into this theory. But then the question arises: is this
our clever people who have created a world that has become
reality, or is it some kind of parallel universe, where they just
managed to get through? Of course, there is also a third
explanation: no less fantastic than the first two, it’s still our
own world, and we just transferred our consciousness to
special clones that we control ourselves.
While I am inclined to believe that the third option might be
true, since it most of all explains some points, but,
unfortunately, not all of them. Therefore, I will continue to
collect information and analyze, because some completely
wild versions can easily come out. The funny thing would be
if everything turns out to be really just a game, albeit a very
specific one, but a game, and everything else is just a series of
coincidences.
Unfortunately, I still can’t share my thoughts with the others,
because the Server controls almost everything except your
thoughts. Yes, it can influence the quality of data processing or
just lead to the necessary decision, but I think on my own.
This fact pleases me. But, on the other hand, it saddens me as
well, since in this matter I can only rely on myself, and not
because I don’t trust anyone, but just that the information does
not go to the Server, well, or to those who are behind it.
Given all this information, I will have to decide on my
immediate plans. In any case, I will try to help this
Christopher, not because I am so a yes man, or God forbid, a
hero without doubt or reproach. No, everything is much more
trivial in here. I need this kit of Scurfifer; I need an influential
cover in case of a complication of the situation around me; I
need an excuse to go downstairs to find Alona and talk to her
and I badly need the information about local Psionics, which I
can get it on my own by collecting it.

Well, I almost forgot, I want to get Martha, which will be my
personal production complex. And I have good reason to
suspect that I will need it. Well, and probably the last reason I need to get to that informant before Andrei gets him and be
the first to get all the information from him.
I just need to resolve the issue with Sanych and Carefire, they
have plans for me, and this cannot be ignored. Carefire has
connections in the military, which is very important. Sanych,
on the contrary, has connections with Psionics, so to speak,
with the opposite camp.
Christopher has influence in the circles of the local power, if I
manage to turn everything right and dodge well enough, then
in any situation I will always have support, or at least from one
of the parties.
Judging by the image on the screens, we are already moving
along the tenth level, which means we will soon be there, I
must use the moments and quickly type messages to Sanych
and Carefire, explaining that I’m starting to carry out
Christopher’s task solely to get the whole Seraphim kit, which
will greatly increase my combat power, at the same time
greatly save us time. I hope they will accept this information
and agree with me; otherwise I will have to somehow find a
way out.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: THE PREPARATION
We landed at the very entrance of an odd-looking building.
Well, we were used to seeing different buildings and this one
simply did not fit into the familiar local architecture, prone to
external minimalism. The twelve steps of the ramp were
crowned with seven columns arranged in a row, on which a
small bas-relief depicted many people who were engaged in
various activities. Such a building would be closer, most
likely, to the architecture of old libraries: high arched
windows, massive entrance doors and only three floors…
It was not possible to look at it in more detail, since as soon as
our transport stopped in one place, Christopher immediately
jumped out, waving his hand, ordering us to follow him,
immediately ran up the steps, without even bothering to check
whether we were following him or not. Gritting my teeth, I
nodded to the others, confirming that he needed to follow him.
“Now is not the time to pay attention to his imperious
manners,” I commented on my decision, having seen Tilorn’s
eyebrows. “We need him now more than he needs us.”

Nodding, he got behind the others, and I left the vehicle
behind him. Christopher was already standing near the door
and threateningly said something to a man in a dark suit.
While we came, they had almost finished their short
conversation, and only part of it reached me:
“ … You let me down, Derin! Think about the future, and think
whether I’ll support you next time after this.”

Noticing that we were approaching, he sent away the person
with whom he spoke with an imperious hand movement and,
having already turned around to us, said with an apologetic
smile:
“Unfortunately, there is a small problem. We haven’t taken
into account one thing, so you will not be able to quickly get
this profession.”
“What happened?”
“Well …” He hesitated a little, picking up the words.
“Suddenly, another candidate for the profession appeared.
And, according to the restrictions established by the Server for
Scurfifers, only one applicant can pass through the center of
professions per month.”
“Shit!” Quartz came out with his indignation.

I mimed to Quartz, asking him to shut up, and then I continued
to stare at Christopher. He clearly did not finish, because if
there were no options for solving this situation, most likely, he
would have screamed at that man using foul language. Yeah,
and in the system there has not yet appeared an alert that the
contract is violated. Therefore, I waited for other information.
“The young man has very precisely put it, but, fortunately,
there is a solution to the situation, while not violating our
contract with you: the so-called right of the strongest to get
the profession. The bottom line is that you can have a duel and
the winner will receive the profession.”
“What compensation will I get?” Just one word of mine, and
Christopher grimaced, as if he was filled with criticism.
“I will give you the parts of the Seraphim set that I have
before the mission, but they will be transferred to your
ownership only upon completion of the contract.”

“Seriously, that fellow set you up.”

I have kept him by the short hair on purpose. Since he
shouldn’t have messed around with me and tell us to do what
he wants. Although it is very strange that he managed to get
into such a situation, usually such fighters think over
everything not just a step in advance, but dozens of steps
beforehand, and even with options for action when
unaccounted factors appear.
“I still cannot grasp how it could have happened, and how
could anyone even think of becoming a Scurfifer. After all, this
is a completely useless profession without one of the “souls”.”

But on hearing these words, my ass was very itchy, feeling
oncoming trouble. It looks like Carso or those for whom he
works may have had a hand in it. And I wondered why they
hadn’t found out about me earlier, before I moved to the tenth
level and too many people had the information, and therefore
there was a leakage of important information. It means that it
was beneficial for him or them not to disclose information
about the “soul.” Now I even understand why.
“Are there any restrictions in the duel?”
“No, they will even conditionally give you the status of a
Scurfifer until the end of the duel,” Christopher finally
finished me off.

If my suspicions are correct, then my chances of winning this
fight simply are around zero. And now there is this agreement.
If I can’t get the profession now, there will be bad sanctions

from the Server in relation to De-Line, and this should be
avoided. It seems that I should be happy - I will get a lot of
things just like that, especially without making any effort. But
people like Christopher, do not forgive those who simply
profited on them, and it does not matter if they are involved in
it or simply get everything by coincidence.
“Christopher, tell me, how many of your influential partners
are aware of your problem with your daughter?”
“Well, a couple of people,” he was surprised at the question,
but answered.
“And how many of them would benefit from you not fulfilling
the contract with me?”
“I do not understand … Do you want to refuse the fight? Stop
it, but then the penalties will already apply to you. But,
according to the information on your level of preparation, it
shouldn’t be difficult for you to kill an idiot who suddenly
became a profi. I do not get it.”
“Are you in direct connection with your analysts?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Then here’s starting info for them to process: Jerión Carso,
former head of the technical department of the outpost 5-1723. Before his arrest, for about two days, he was the owner of
two sets of “the soul of Seraphim.” Attention, a question to
them! Who does Jerión Carso really work for, and did he
really dismantle the set illiquid asset while examining it? Time
for analysis starts now!”

De-Line frowned, not understood what I was talking about, but
it seemed that he was told something, and he relaxed and
waited for the results from analysts. In the meantime, I was
watching Irala out of the corner of my eye and noticed how at
the thirteenth second she grinned, apparently gathering the
necessary information and completing the analysis.

Sender: Irala
Text of the letter:
The chance that he will come with the part of the kit
ranges between 92 and 94 percent. Did you expect this
from me?

Recipient: Irala
Text of the letter:
Good girl! I did not expect, but hoped that it would be
interesting for you to calculate the situation.

Sender: Irala
Text of the letter:
Hmm … It was really interesting, it will be necessary to try
to solve a couple of similar tasks.

Whatever one may say, the cybernetic brain is simply by far
the fastest brain in the universe if it is used in the right
direction. It took Christopher’s analysts thirty-two seconds to
send him the result. They are far behind Irala, but they simply
amaze with their speed of analysis from the point of view of
ordinary people. It took me a few minutes, and this was
despite the fact that all my initial information had been
spinning in my head for a long time. But the question was
whether it could be attributed to Carefire deciding to send me
up ahead of time? Damn, there is a lot of intrigue because they
probably like such games a lot.

“As far as I understand, you haven’t got the “Seraphim” soul
with you right now?” Christopher asked a rhetorical question,
being a little nervous. I just lifted my hands in dismay. “Any
suggestions?”
“What can your analysts say about this?”
“Well, they don’t know anything!” He shouted, being very
indignant. “I’ll kill these idiots. These dumb asses missed out
on important things.”
“What’s wrong with that? Well, we will return to you
everything that you pay us for non-compliance with the
contract. We understand that this is force majeure on your
part.”
“What do you understand, you sucker? My reputation is at
stake here!” He shouted, almost spluttering at Quartz. And his
hands, very quickly covered with segment armor, formed from
bracelets.
“STOP IT!” I screamed very loudly.

Absolutely everyone froze for a second. And Christopher was
afraid to move at all: literally a millimeter from his neck, the
laser thread was hanging in the air, sandwiched between the
fingers of Castra, which were behind him. Tilorn slid slightly
to the side in a sliding step, controlling the area, throwing a
bent arm at the elbow, ready to activate the shield at any
moment. Sargos’s revolver was against the left temple of Mr.
De-Line. Quartz, having obtained a screwdriver from
somewhere, froze his hand halfway, aiming at heart. Irala
subsided, crouching on her bent right leg, holding her left far
forward, slightly bending her knee and resting her elbow on
her knee, creating a sort of support under the rifle’s forearm.
Considering that she was still wearing a dress, it looked very
impressive, though I did not have time to notice the moment
when she managed to get a rifle out of her bag. I seem to be
getting older. I was standing relaxed, because I assumed the
possibility of his emotional breakdown.

“I would not recommend you shout at someone from my
group.”

I calmly said that, referring to our employer. And in the
meantime, he was amazed at what kind of fighters I brought
up. Not so long ago they could get lost in any aggressive
situation, and now they react even to the smallest potential
danger. I am really proud of them, as well as I am sad since I
screwed up their psyche. Another six months, a year at the
latest, and they would become killers, whom a lot of people
would be on alert of. Unfortunately, in this world it cannot be
otherwise. A second assessment of the situation, and
Christopher, relaxing, straightened his hair and, not paying
attention to different items for potential murder, he went on to
speak in a calm voice.
“I beg your pardon; I lost my temper a little. The problem is
that among … Um … A society in which I conduct my
business, reputation is much more important than financial
status” and then he added in a slightly changed voice with
trembling notes of rage: “Now I will not pay attention to your
trick, because I myself am guilty, letting emotions take over
me, but if ever you once again point the weapon at me and you
will regret your actions!” And again in a usual voice he
continued. “But we are not sticking to our issue; we need to
urgently look for a solution to the problem, since we have a
little less than two hours left. That is how much time is left to
the start of the test of a competing contestant.”

Showing with a gesture, I asked the others to hide their
weapons, which they did obviously regretting it. Yeah, I am
also fed up with his way of talking, almost spitting words out

of his lips. Unfortunately, sometimes you have to put up with
such obnoxious individuals.
“Are there any restrictions?” I decided to clarify the issue.
“Well, except that the duel is only one on one,” he replied,
referring to other members of my team.
“So …” I said thoughtfully. “Is it possible to quickly deliver
equipment and weapons here?”
“Within an hour, my people will be able to get a lot of things,”
and then, raising his eyebrows, specified. “Have you decided
to fight? Will you be able to win?”
“Do I have any other way out?”
“Not yet, but analysts are working on this matter. I thought
you would suggest some other ways to solve the problem.
Somehow I doubt that you will be able to defeat a person with
one of the sets of Scurfifer. According to the data we have, any
of the kits in firepower could compete with a company of wellequipped professionals.”
“Well … not everything is so simple with these kits,” I smiled.
“If you are talking about energy sources, even using usual
sources, the Seraphim kits are very mobile and can fight for a
long time with a large crowd of opponents.”
“Really? I wonder where he could manage to work out the
capabilities of the kit in practice?”
“Anywhere …” and then he shut his mouth. “Most likely, he
learned only in theory, a very detailed, very well-described,
but only in theory. But if he had clever mentors, of which I
have no doubt, just a couple of minutes would be enough for
him to fully understand the functionality, Christopher said
thoughtfully.”
“No,” I disagreed with him. “This means I will have as much
as a couple of minutes in order to defeat him.”
“Hmm … It might work.” What do you need for this?

“Tilorn!” I immediately began to distribute commands,
realizing that we are now ready to give a lot of things.
“Calculate the set of buffs and send the list of what you need.”
“Got it, I’m already working on it.”
“Quartz, I need speed!”
“I got it.”
“Irala, try to find out how many and what elements of the kit
he managed to get.”
“It is difficult … but I will try.”
“Sargos, I need something very powerful and as compact as
possible,” waiting for his nod, turned back to Christopher. But
I did not give anything to say to the offended-sounding voice.
“And what about me?” Castra frowned.
“Uh … you will give me a positive mood.”

I smiled back at her. But she still continued to show being
offended … Well, damn; I really do not know how she can
help now. Her knowledge and skills are not enough in this
situation. I have considered several options for additional help;
now let’s move on to the main one.
“Christopher, apart from what is on the lists indicated by the
guys, I need a compact short-barreled machine gun,
preferably with the ability to fire several types of energy or …”

I dictated the list of potential equipment to him for about five
minutes, well, damn, fuck who knows what suits me and what
characteristics there will be, and most importantly, limitations.
Of course, I could just give him my parameters and ask his
specialists to pick up something … But I’d rather give myself
a shot in my head without anesthesia than I would show my

real parameters to someone. Even Sanych, who was involved
in my preparation, did not know all my parameters. And to
show your soul in front to a dressed-up jerk with extremely
overpriced sense of his personal importance, but well, thank
you, but no.
While we were making lists of what needs to be delivered
urgently, we managed to enter the building and get to a small
but very comfortable office, where there were six sofas located
around a low oblong table. It seems to be a local lounge.
Having already settled down, I began to be interested directly
in the training ground for our duel.
It was almost exactly the same as I had expected. The whole
zone for a duel is a circular training ground with a diameter of
about a kilometer, on which a conditional city labyrinth
created from nanites will be located. This technology, as I
suspected, is used on all more or less advanced test sites, the
only difference is in what things, objects and opponents can be
formed on them, and this solely depends on who has the set of
programs.
This gave me the opportunity to assess that the enemy had no
opportunity in practice to test the “Seraphim” kit. I doubt that
anyone could get the source code of the training program for
Scurfifers, except for Sanych, who was directly involved in
their preparation.
That’s just a kilometer - it’s a lot, even at the maximum speed
of my movement, ignoring any caution, I’d get to the enemy in
three or four minutes. But this time may be enough for him to
equip himself and understand the functionality of the
equipment. But I will hope that Quartz will come up with
something to overcome this, otherwise everything will be very
complicated.
Forty minutes later, they began to deliver the first orders, and
the guys took up the business, trying to figure something out
for me to fight. Only Irala was sitting all this time with a
detached look and did not give any information at all. With
flowing time, I began to worry more and more, because
despite the fact that I was given a lot of weapons and
ammunition, I could not choose anything definite, because I

was going to base the whole construction of battle tactics
solely on the weaknesses of the kit, which simply must be, if
he doesn’t have all the elements.
Damn, I was trembling, I have already started to sort out this
heap of equipment and I couldn’t decide on one thing. Thank
God, at least they didn’t bring bulky and heavy items. I did
right, mentioning several times that I needed maximum
mobility. Otherwise, God forbid, they would bring in heavy
sluggish exoskeletons. They’d only waste time.
When there was only twenty minutes left until the end of the
allotted time, Irala finally got up and, finding me with her
eyes, with gestures asked whether she could report out loud.
Having received my affirmative nod - it still makes no sense to
hide something, - she began to give out the information found.
“It was hard, but I got some information about him. Ernest
Melnichuk, the birth is registered one hundred twenty seven
years ago, at the seventh level. Childhood and adolescence
was not particularly exciting, he was an ordinary child, being
twenty-two years old he entered the service of the SVF, he was
with them for thirty-two years, received six minor awards,
replicated nineteen times. The only survivor in several major
breakthroughs, for his service in the ranks, the SVF managed
to accumulate from eleven to thirteen replications, more
accurately not to be calculated, there is not enough
information for which achievements the Server awards
additional replication. In illegal actions during the service
was not noticed. After leaving the SVF, he served in the OCA
rapid response team for almost twenty years, where he was
awarded two more awards, during which time he went once for
replication. He may have received from one to three
replications in stock. After leaving the OCA, he completely
disappeared, but I managed to uh … find out that all this time
he was engaged in training fighters in some organization
called “The Hive”, who provided him with eleven items from
the Seraphim kit. Supposedly, it is the soul, the punishment, the
eye, wisdom, both hands, both chains and a complete set of

freedom. A more complete file with information about him I
have sent you by e-mail.”
“Mademoiselle, didn’t you think to change jobs?” Does he
seriously think that he can lure her away?
“No,” a simple and concise answer from Irala.
“Well, at least it was worth a try.”

Well, that’s it? And where are the promises of the highest
salary, super benefits, and everything that she wants? Rather, it
is not an attempt to entice her, but just a conditioned reflex in
him working. Okay, not distracted. Squatting, I began to
consider kits scattered in different heaps, which I had formed
during this time for various tasks, taking into account my
features and skills. But all the same, nothing could have given
so much needed superiority in the first couple of minutes of
the battle.
“Quartz?”
“Well … sort of …” Quartz said doubtfully. “I soldered here
one fucking thing…” after silencing and throwing a quick
glance at Castra, I received an affirmative nod from her. “Well,
here it is.”

The device was passed to me and it was vaguely reminiscent
of a knapsack engine with many small nozzles and with a
frame welded to it, which, in theory, should be wrapped
around the legs. In the area of the belt there was an open
jumble of wires, some small blocks and incomprehensible
connection nodes.
“I’ve redistributed the power supply here a little bit,” he
began to explain, as if apologizing. “Therefore, one strong

impulse should throw you up two hundred meters. Here you
just get an overload of about six “G” force. This is the first
problem … The second is that the backpack will explode in
fifteen seconds from overheating. Well, the third problem is in
landing and I was only able to connect the Tilorn’s shield to
the bottom, sending the shield opening down in the shape of a
hemisphere. But with the suppression of inertia, I could not
think of anything.”

It is clear why he was looking at Castra, this scheme distantly
resembles a system of landing from orbit - she seems to have
prompted Quartz, remembering how we went to the rescue on
the Rauta planet, ignoring our own safety, disabling the
maneuvering nozzles that were supposed to dampen our speed
after entering the atmosphere. So she explained the effect as
much as she could that she had then observed as a child during
the landing. But she could not have known that during this
landing the three fighters simply were killed, and even did not
join the battle. Okay, but it gives at least some chance.
“Thanks. It will do” I have already begun to form a plan as to
how to use this jump accelerator. “Tilorn, what have you
got?”
“I managed to create only two injections, more precisely I
synthesized more, but some of them are trash, and the others
simply did not work. In general, the first one is a fairly
powerful regenerator, but it hits the internal organs very
strongly as a pullback. But the second one … I do not even
know whether to apply it… In general, you will see the
description yourself.”

Biological amplifier “Gates of Hell”
Type: Intramuscular injection.

Effect: Within three minutes, all major features are
increased by forty percent.
Requirements: You must have the courage to use it.
Limitations: Your confidence in whether to use it.
Consequences: At the end of the effect, there comes a
rollback in the form of an eight hundred percent increase
in sensitivity.
Warning: The biological amplifier does not protect your
organs from excessive load due to amplification, the failure
of part of the organs is possible, and self-harm is possible.
Fatal outcome due to failure of vital organs… Perhaps, the
occurrence of spontaneous mutation of the body…

Hmmm … extremely unambiguous amplifier turned out. Here
you will really think twice before applying it to yourself. OK,
you should not count on it, but just in case, I will take with me.
Miming thanks to Tilorn, I turned to Sargos; maybe he will
please me with something? He really exceeded all my
expectations, silently laid out in front of me a huge pile of
various explosive devices and even ammunition to the firearm,
where he replaced the bullets with his own designs. Glancing
around at everyone, I noticed that absolutely everyone was
nervous. Even Quartz was surprisingly silent.
“So, set aside your worries! We will still dance in the ninth
circle of hell,” having said that nonsense, I smiled. But why is
my smile so similar to the grin of a mad man?

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: THE DUELING
The force field were pulsing around me, which does not allow
to move, and the timer in front of my eyes counts the last
thirty seconds before the start of our duel. Unfortunately, the
first plan was a failure. I was hoping to see the exact location
of the enemy in those few seconds while the training grounds
were being formed and the nanites were creating too many
obstacles that should separate us. But, to my regret, they let us
into the already formed grounds, not leaving even a chance to
see each other.
The conditions for our battle reminded me very much of the
familiar environment of the fifth level. Partially preserved in
the bulk of the buildings, around which there were some
destroyed ones as well as almost complete structures. Judging
by the location of the buildings in the survey accessible to me,
the maze started from the central square and mirrored into two
parts.
OK, I know the approximate direction. Within the time of one
minute given to us to prepare mentally, I already managed to
study in detail the whole space around me and plan my
movement according to the scattered buildings. Therefore, as
soon as the last seconds expired, I would immediately begin to
implement one of the plans for this fight.
I am glad that this force field completely blocked my body,
leaving only my head free, which allowed me to turn around.
No, my immobility does not please me, I am satisfied simply
with the realization that the enemy is in the same conditions,
which means that he cannot put on the parts of the kit now.
After all, the field first appeared, and only then the system
message popped up. There is still a dozen seconds, so you can
re-read it thoughtfully again.
Attention! You will have a duel for the right to receive the
profession “Scurfifer.” You, as an applicant, temporarily
issued the profession “Scurfifer.” The losing party will lose

the profession, and as a fine - the possibility of its receiving
will be blocked for one hundred eighty-two days. The
winning person will be admitted to the profession in
accordance with the rules and regulations. Good luck to
you!

So far, I have been thinking. Did Christopher know about the
half a year ban for the loser? At first, of course, I thought that
he had simply deceived me, saying about the term of a month,
but then, after thinking a little, I understood. He talked about
the fact that the center of the professions can only issue the
Scurfifer profession once a month. But about the duel itself, he
either deliberately concealed the information, or did not have
it himself. So, that’s all for now, last seconds are finishing,
thoughts aside, it’s time to work!
Before the start of the duel:
3
2
1
Only one person wins!

And why is the last phrase associated with head chopping?
Well, again, other thoughts climb into my head, even though
my body carries me along a given route. The point where I
started was not very well suited for my current plan: one of the
buildings, which was against the ceiling with a roof, prevented
me from acting: that’s why, I spent the first three seconds
changing positions. Now turn to the fencing wall of the
monolithic wall, a small acceleration and, having run onto the
wall in just two steps, I activated the jump bag with all the
power Quartz has put into it.

Now my jump is not in the plane of ninety degrees from the
surface of the floor, well, plus or minus ten degrees, but I have
an angle of about forty degrees. Well, the height of the jump
will be less, but the jumping effort will also drag me a couple
of hundred meters forward, plus the subsequent inertia, and,
respectively, the fall along a ballistic trajectory. As a result, I
hope to overcome four hundred meters, ideally six hundred.
It will not be so painful for me to fall, it is quite possible that
the shield from Tilorn will be able to compensate for all the
consequences of the fall. As soon as the nozzle impulse ended,
I turned my body in the air, now flying forward. Having
crossed my feet and stretched my legs in the knees, having
parted them slightly, I formed a kind of bed for a large-caliber
rifle, which I asked Irala for at the last moment. I will have
only one shot, I will not restrain its return and in a stable fixed
position, and in such a roaring-out case, most likely, it will be
thrown out of my hands.
I hope that my hands will not be torn apart, given the set of
armor, reinforced at all folds with synthetic muscles. The gain
from such a suit gives a very small impact, and protection
against penetrating damage is quite low, but it keeps the
kinetics and blows perfectly well. I hope for only these
features and, well, for the ease with high mobility. But even
despite all this, I left only one cartridge in the chamber,
completely disconnecting the magazine case. Since there is a
probability in this position, during the shot, from the recoil, the
store would damage my manly parts, and I would be left
without this treasure.
But there is a rather big chance that the enemy will not appear
in the shot zone, but all the same, as soon as I took the final
position in the air for the shot, I instantly activated a
combination of three sniper skills “Shooting corrections”,
which increased the accuracy of the shot due to amending the
scope, taking into account all variables, such as gravity, firing
angle, wind movement and many others”.
“Stabilization” made me change the position of the grip a bit,
fixing the rifle in a position that further increased the accuracy
of the hit. And, of course, “Motuskhant”, which task was only

to make Nanites react to any enemy who was in the shooting
zone instead of me. It seems a trifle, but sometimes, even a
response with a delay of a fraction of a second makes it
possible for the goal to react at least a little.
But I did not want to leave a single chance to the enemy. Of
course, it would be good to activate the Sniper Shot, but,
unfortunately, in order to trigger it, I need to see the enemy.
And this motherfucker is hiding. Have I miscalculated? It
seems he should have been in mirror conditions for me and,
most likely, he should be moving in this direction, at least in
order to assess the surroundings.
I had already overcome the highest point of the flight and even
flew half way back to the ground, intending to interrupt my
skills and activate the shield for landing, but at that moment
my opponent showed up around the corner of the building. My
skill immediately reacted to his appearance. That’s right; I
activated it, because, to my shame, I paid attention to the
barely standing figure at the very moment of the shot.
Although he was in my field of vision, the extremely wellchosen equipment coloring practically merged it with the dull
background of concrete. But for “Motuskhant” it was
absolutely unimportant.
As I expected, the rifle just was thrown out of my hands by the
shot, twisting my body around its axis, but I managed to notice
how the bullet divided into several parts and rushed to the
target, halfway through each of the elements of the bullet
divided into several parts, leaving a little to the side. It turned
out that each element of the bullet reached the point at which I
shot a little from different sides, crashing into the enemy from
the front, sides, and from above.
I wonder where Irala managed to get such unusual
ammunition? I feel as if I am that Mr. Caesar, who managed to
do several things at the same time, because while I was
pondering over a strange, but such effective bullet, I
simultaneously tried to launch a protective field, unfasten my
knapsack, which in seven seconds would have to jerk, and
then I had to figure out where the ceiling was, or else I would
be spun harshly. So, I did not see the results of my shot, I just

saved my own body, otherwise it would be a shame to die right
after the enemy.
The jumping backpack was unhooked almost immediately, and
according to the inertia of rotation it flew off to an unknown
side. But there were problems with the Shield - it almost
flickered twice, and then immediately went out, and only at
the third attempt I was able to open it almost at the last
moment before the collision with the floor surface. Then I
swore worse than our cruising boatswain, jumping like a ball.
Well, I did not take into account that the angle of my landing
would cause such a strong rebound, forcing me several times
in a row to noticeably attach myself to the road.
I do not know how much more I would ride in this way. But on
the way of my movement, a building came up from
somewhere, the wall of which stopped my extravagant way of
movement. The whole body was terribly sore, but I didn’t find
any debuffs under the life stripes, which means I didn’t get any
fractures and just got away with a lot of bruises. Having
detached the second element of the Quartz-assembled device
from my feet, I hardly rose to my feet, immediately pulling
forward the short-barreled impulse machine gun with an
additional barrel under the fire ammunition. Before that, it was
securely pinned back to the back.
Somewhere on the right there was a muffled explosion, which
marked the demise of the jump bag, although it performed its
task one hundred percent. But the announcement of the victory
did not come, it means that this asshole is still alive, so I need
to finish him urgently before he attacked me. Clenching my
teeth, I start from the spot, on the move changing the machine
gun from the fuse to the automatic fire.
Not only did it spin me up during the fall, but it seems that the
recoil also changed the trajectory of my movement, and I spent
almost fifteen seconds so that, not sparing my strength, I could
escape to the operating space at maximum speed, where I
could see the place where the enemy was last seen.
But there I didn’t see my enemy; there wasn’t anything there
at all: neither blood nor equipment, only a small crater from
entering showed that I was not mistaken about the place. But,

damn, how? Was he able to dodge? Or maybe energy shields?
Although I did not notice the characteristic flicker. Stop,
funnel in the floor, then he must have just dodged. But in what
way - I will think about it later.
The whole confusion of thoughts flew away in less than a
second, and then my body twisted in an incredible acrobatic
bend that made my body trying to reach the doorway of the
nearest building. The place where I was standing was crossed
by two lines that left quite small potholes in the concrete. I
was once again saved by the passive dodge skill. The only pity
is that the rollback is big enough; otherwise I would
practically be eternal.
But that was enough to save my ass from an unscheduled
replication again. Then I was in a very unreliable, but still
refuge in the form of a doorway of the building. I immediately
grouped and rolled to the side, I escaped from another line
fired up after me. Having pressed my back to the concrete wall
between the doorway and the window, I began to urgently
prepare for the third version of the plan.“
“You are quite good,” a voice came from the street. “Perhaps
those tales that have reached me about your possibilities are
not entirely made up.”

Well, the person wants to chat, well; he can do what he wants.
I’d rather keep silent; somehow there is no desire to give out
my position. I’d rather give him a grenade through the window
to keep the conversation going. And now quickly on all my
limbs I was moving to another place. Immediately after the
explosion, Ernest was laughing. But for some reason I don’t
see anything funny in this situation, but it’s a shame. After all,
it was one of the Sargos grenades, and recently he has reached
quite high professional levels in work with explosives.

“What do you think, if you use such clappers, you can beat the
Scurfifer, albeit not in full, but in the “Seraphim” set? You
start to disappoint me; I already began to think that the fight
could be interesting…”

Why is he doing the empty talk? Or are these bad guys
somewhere specially trained to carry any nonsense to the
enemy? He is just an ordinary dark horse, who for some
reason, before he is beaten in the face, starts to talk about his
dark plans … Um … I hurried with a comparison, this guy
does not reveal any plans. Well, it’s not over yet, at least I will
try not to move away from the classic fight, and as a decent
hero I will punch him in his brazen unshaven … well, or
shaved face.
The main thing was at that moment that he would not
accidentally turn out to be the hero who would punch me,
being such a bad guy. After all, we shall see what happens:
you know, as a rule, the one who won, is considered a good
guy, and the loser is the bad one who planned a bunch of nasty
things. Well, history is written by the winners, naturally, as the
only survivors after the battles. To be honest, I would be
surprised if dead people wrote history from their point of view.
Well, here we come again, adrenaline hit me in the head, and
mentally I have all such nonsense on my mind, while the body
continues to act and pull these dull brains out of the asshole,
into which I have taken myself. Activating the “Position
Change”, and when only a half second remained before its
operation, I leaned out into the window opening and gave a
long burst from the bullet barrel towards the enemy. Let’s see
how he will react to this, I have a whole lot of different
ammunition types in store for him.
Armor-piercing, incendiary, with a pulsed core, with plasma
capsules, cryogen, poisons, acids, explosives, electromagnetic
ones and whatnot… In general, almost all types of cartridges
that managed to get under the right caliber. Initiated skill threw
me deep into the building quite on time. Only did I manage to

get out of the affected area, when the wall began to sew a
variety of impulse charges, turning it practically into a sieve.
I did not stop even when the skill turned off, having gone to
recharge, I now need at least some time to view the logs and
calculate what type of ammo is best to hit with. Well, I do not
believe in absolute protection, as in the absolute weapon.
Moreover, his kit is not complete, which means he cannot
show a complete set of properties. At a minimum, there is
always a chance to take him spending lots of time, the power
sources are also not unlimited, after all.
A little more time and I’ll be on the sidelines: without stopping
the movement, in a chaotic order I stuck to the wall also a
couple of small round mines. But as I recall their prototype
“Washer Boom”, the sky is the limit, the guys thoroughly
refined them, turning them into a more compact and more
powerful version, which is now installed on any surface thanks
to vacuum suckers.
Jumping out of the window in a fish style, I rolled and
immediately had to jump forward again, escaping from the
blade, which was supposed to cut off my head. How? That’s
how he managed to get to this side of the building so quickly?
When I landed, I immediately activated the Battle Roll, which
nearly broke my ligament and twisted my body, putting me in
a fighting position, facing my opponent.
I still do not have time to shoot, only on the edge of my
dexterity I have time to substitute the top of the machine gun,
beating up the edge of the blade, which was aimed at my
throat. I beat off that, but at the same time, the cutting edge
like a razor cuts off both an open sight and an installed
collimator, making it almost impossible for me to continue
aiming with it in the future.
Falling on my back, tearing off a light-emitting grenade and
squeezing my eyes, I was rolling back to the side, trying to
take a position with my back to the grenade, a flash of light
makes its way through the filters of the face shield of the
helmet and my closed eyes, a little cut across the retina, but
this maneuver allows me not to get blind and practically on all
my limbs I crawled and disappeared in a new building.

Almost immediately the sound of laughter caught up with me,
it seems that this motherfucker is just having fun with me.
How did he manage so quickly to navigate in the management
of “Seraphim”? My preparations and tactics, based on the fact
that he is not immediately able to fully manage it, just crash
right out of the window. I need to urgently come up with a new
plan. Turning to the nearest staircase and going up to the
second floor, I stopped in the middle of the building in order to
have the maximum wall thickness from all sides and not let
myself be discovered thanks to the peculiarities of tactical
glasses under the pathetic name “Eye of Seraphim”, thanks to
which he most likely found me through not very thick walls. If
he had at least a belt into which additional batteries are
connected, which enhances the capabilities of all the other
elements of the kit, he would be able to see me through the
whole building. And so I have at least a couple of seconds to
restore my fatigue level.
Breathing heavily, I leaned my back against the nearest wall.
So what do we have? Unfortunately, the worst possible case
for me happened, and he is very good at owning the whole
range of parts of the kit available to him. On the one hand, it is
bad; but, on the other hand, he is now very underestimating
me, and decided to play with me a little before he would kill
me, and this gives me a small chance to defeat him. So we will
look at his weak points, and obviously I do not intend to
surrender. Looking at the logs, I stared blankly at the lines.
You dealt Unknown penetrating damage to Unknown
opponent.
You have inflicted “Unknown” units of kinetic damage to
the opponent “Unknown”
You have inflicted “Unknown” units of thermal damage to
the opponent “Unknown”
You have inflicted “Unknown” units of energy damage to
the opponent “Unknown”
…

…
…

The huge sheet of messages of the same type made me
surprised first, and then, gritting my teeth, I carefully moved
along the corridor through the entire building to the window
leading to the next house, where, if my eyes do not fail me in
just a couple of meters, you can jump from one building to
another.
It seems that such logs are one of the features of Scurfifers,
because I did not notice anything like this in test fights, even a
couple of times when I tried to fight against Sanych.
Considering that in his training complex the set created was
almost identical to the original in its properties, there remains
only one reason - even if it is temporary, but you have the
profession. And this, damn, some kind of ambush,
vulnerability to the type of damage in this situation can only
be determined visually. And after you can die very quickly,
which doesn’t fit in with my plans.
“Vooolpeer!” came from the street, and almost in the direction
where I was moving, which made me stand still. “Are you
playing hide and seek? Well, then I am leading. One, two,
three, four, five, I’m going to look for you.”

Damn, my teeth will soon begin to crumble, as many teeth
cannot creak. And this little bastard is also mocking me. When
I get to him, I will kick his ass long and painfully, but also
with all my force. If I am losing out in almost all directions,
then it’s time to connect the brains. For the couple of times
that I managed to catch a glimpse of him, it seems that he is
wearing a full set. But I have no reason not to trust the

information collected by Irala. So, all the other elements are
just imitation.
I doubt that they are just a decor, most likely, it’s usual armor
and weapons, as close as possible in terms of characteristics
and appearance to those included in the kit, but still they do
not have those properties. That became evident after the
collision of my machine gun and blade. If it was one of the
“Censure of Seraphim”, then they would simply cut me along
with the machine gun. So the most dangerous fight with him is
at great distances, “Kara” will not leave me even a chance.
OK, we figured this out, we need a fight at small and medium
distances, I can ensure it for myself if I force him to fight
inside the building. Plus, it will limit his maneuverability,
which has increased so much because of the wings. It remains
only to decide how to neutralize two more pairs of wings, one
of which is attacking, and the other defensive, and then it’s
done.
The wall in the building next door swelled and shattered into
fragments, forming a hole about three meters in diameter, in
which Ernest appeared. Well, at least I immediately reacted
and fell on the belly, quickly crawling away for additional
shelters, until he noticed me. Well, yes … I completely forgot
about the “Hand”, combat gloves, one of which produces a
powerful force impulse of a ring action upon impact, the
second one is the same, only electric.
You can say, the weapons of the last resort, when the battle
goes to the level of the usual massacre fights. Only, if they hit
me in such a blow, there is every reason to suspect that my
armor will simply not sustain, and all the insides will mix well
with each other.
“I didn’t guess where you are,” came a disappointed voice to
me. “Then maybe here?” one more crashing wall. “And you
are not here. Volper, Volper, I’m looking for you! He began to
hum under some simple little tune. “Volper, Volper, I will find
you! Volper, Volper, I’ll kill you!”

…Damn, it seems, he is a real psycho. Who ever thought to
train this psychopath for the Scurfifer profession? Damn, I’m
really starting to be afraid of him. You never know what he
will come up with in his insane head. Crawling through the
rooms, hiding behind a large number of walls from the psycho
raging in the neighboring buildings, I place mines, explosives
and everything that can cause significant damage along the
way. Sooner or later, he will get to my temporary asylum, and
we must prepare for this as soon as possible.
“I found you!” There was a voice on the left, which was
clearly approaching me. Looks like I’ve evoked evil.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: DO NOT UNDERESTIMATE
THE ENEMY
Damn, I did not keep track of his movements and got into a
zone where between us there was only one external wall, so he
could detect me in the thermal range. Just some kind of
Murphy’s Law, everything goes badly. It feels like he is
always one step ahead of me. Well, I can assume that he was
expecting a powerful attack at the very beginning, so he sent a
hologram to the open space, according to which the acquired
skills worked. And what about all the other maneuvers?
But now is not right the time to reflect on this. Ernest jumps
between buildings with acceleration, assisted by wings which
he spread a little. Having flown in such a way a distance of
about forty meters, at the last moment he deactivated his wings
and landed already in the building, right through the wide
window opening.
Jumping off the floor, he put the butt in the chest and, pushing
his shoulders forward so that the butt did not slide to the sides,
aiming at the barrel, he began to shoot in short bursts of three
to five rounds with a minimum gap between turns, only to
stabilize the barrel for the next round. Along the way, step by
step, I stepped back, hoping to have time to get down the
stairs. Accuracy of shooting was hellish great, and Ernest left a
set of wings closed behind a growth shield, taking impulse
charges on the force field, from which the main part of each
wing was formed.
But I achieved the main thing, just slowing him down. And
when I noticed on the right the opening of the flight of stairs,
without hesitation, I jerked to the right, jumping over the
flimsy railing and landing on my feet a half floor below. Then
I immediately activated the spaced charges and at the same
time with the explosion heard from above, I rushed to the
doorway in order to escape to the street.
When I had already run half the open space to the next house,
there was a roar of falling elements of buildings behind me,
which made me take a quick look over my shoulder. This

bastard gets on my nerves, and I saw him as he was
surrounded by small pieces of the building, jumped off the
second floor, and, unfortunately, I did not notice any damage
from the explosion, only the dark stains of burning on the
outfit. It turned out, so to speak, slightly burnt Ernest.
“Where are you going? I have not finished with you yet!”

How he enrages me by saying his expressions! I almost
managed to hide in the building, when a sharp pain in the
lower part of the left leg was ahead of the sound of a short line
from his compact submachine gun for a split second. That
bastard shoots in the legs, so that I could not move quickly.
Because of the gained speed after hitting the leg, I literally
jumped several times. Maybe I would tumble more, but I was
stopped by a wall that I crashed into. And in a very
uncomfortable position: head down, legs on the wall.
Having quickly turned over, I switched the fire to the bullet
barrel and began to hit the enemy in long shots. At the same
time, limping, added step to the left, where literally three
meters from me there was the doorway. Ernest, having thrown
the submachine gun in his holster, again took out the blades
and, spreading his wings at different angles, began to
maneuver from side to side, simply moving at high speed from
the trajectory of shooting. Slowly but inexorably approaching
me.
He simply scoffed at me, it cost him nothing at such speeds in
literally one, maximum two jerks to get close to me and end
the fight defeating me. But it seems that he enjoys not leaving
me alone, enjoying my helplessness in this situation. At the
same time pushing on the psyche with his unhurried approach.
Yes, and he was commenting on it all.
“You have missed! Again! Missed again! But what is it,
Volper; come on, are you a little tense, because the bullets are

flying very close by, a bit more speed and maybe you can hit
me.”

Then he noticed where I was moving and, returning the blades
to the place, quickly pulled the rifle off my back. Two quick
shots smashed the ceiling over the doorway so that it
collapsed, blocking my retreat. Throwing back the rifle in the
magnetic grips between the wings, he, without ceasing to
move from side to side at high speeds, again took out the
blades. It seems that Ernest decided to kill me like a psycho.
While he was distracted by the cutting off any way for me to
escape, I also took advantage of the moment and attached a
medical rivet to my leg, which, when blood got on it,
immediately released a foamy mixture that would stop
bleeding, at the same time acting as an anesthetic in places of
skin contact. Then the leg would be numb a little in that part,
slightly limiting its functionality.
The dull sound of the drummer on the striker, which did not
find the cap in the chamber, informed me about the empty
magazine store. Taking my finger off the trigger, transferring
the machine back to impulse charges, without stopping the
fire, with my left hand I dumped the store under my feet and
reached for the new one, but at the last moment I changed my
mind and put my hand not into the magazine pouch, but into
the next pocket with two pulse grenades having a delay
controller and an activation button.
Without taking my hands out of the pockets, I felt the ribbed
mechanism of the delay and, twisting two clicks, which were
slightly giving away on my fingers, and squeezing my fingers,
I grabbed onto the base of the grenade. With one hand it was
hard to hold the machine gun, which by recoil tried to be
pulled out of the hand, even though it was rigidly rested with
its butt on the shoulder and strained belt thrown over my
shoulder and neck.

“Come on, come on, and recharge yourself faster!” Ernest
was pushing me, continuing to maneuver between my lines.
“Just tell me, if I should wait, I’ll be aside until you can
handle it.”

That’s right, he must have seen how I had clicked off the
magazine case and reached into the pouch, which meant he
most likely believed that I was now in a hurry trying to find
and get a spare one. Using the moment when he turns out to be
sideways to me in the next maneuver so that it is not very
noticeable what I’m going to pull out, I abruptly pull out my
hand and, pressing the activation button with my thumb,
throwing it to the left with a biting movement. And I myself
am falling to the right side, trying not to stop the fire in the
direction of Ernest with impulse charges even for a second.
With a grenade, I got practically to the place where I was
aiming at: into the space above the resulting blockage in the
doorway. Pulsed grenades do not have a destructive element in
the form of fragments, which, on the one hand, is their
disadvantage. But, on the other hand, their explosion forms a
pulsed sphere with very strong kinetic pressure, simply
scattering everything that is not fixed well.
Now poorly fixed elements are fragments of walls, which are
littered around the doorway. It was exactly what I expected: a
lot of debris from the detonation of a pulsed grenade scattered
in different directions, mainly in the direction of least
resistance - into the building, along the corridor going inside,
and into the street, towards where the doorway was facing.
Several large fragments crashed into me, having beaten off the
left side and shoulder. But Ernest had to bounce back sharply
with the help of wings, and at the time of landing he closed all
three pairs of wings, forming a semblance of a cocoon, in the
center of which he was. Well, hell with you, motherfucker
unkilled, I’m not going to continue the fight with you in the
open space.

“Hey, where are you going?” It came to me from behind. “I
don’t want it like that! Do I have to chase after you again?”

Not paying attention to his shouting, I continued to dodge
among different corridors and rooms of the building, passing
along the walls the remnants of miniature mines. The leg was
getting worse and worse, which immediately affected the
speed of movement, and fatigue began to increase one and a
half times faster.
On the right, there was a small room which seemed to have a
technical purpose, but now it was exactly what I needed. No
windows or doors, in the room it was dark. Having jumped
into the room, I began to prepare for the next meeting with
Ernest. He gave me only thirty seconds, after which I heard
heavy steps on the first floor.
I can see that he spent this time on making sure that I had not
slipped out of the building from the other side. And now he
was carefully searching the floor. Having unwound a little
cable taken from Castra, I stood waiting, afraid not only to
move, but also to breathe. Most likely, now everything will be
decided: either I will catch him, or he will cut me into small
pieces.
The vile rattle that reached my ears made me shudder. Did he
decide to furrow land with his sword? Such a sound is usually
made by metal rubbing against concrete, and judging how the
sound spreads, this guy most likely thrust one of the short
swords into the wall and now pulls it along its surface, which
makes squealing to the bone.
A small explosion interrupted the suffering of my eardrums
and now sounded almost like gentle music for me. It lasted
only for a couple of seconds, and then the rattle repeated,
inexorably approaching me.
“Ah-ah-ah, Volper. It is not good to lose your toys, because
they can break.”

The second explosion did not let him continue his expressing
thoughts. I am already beginning to understand Sargos;
sometimes the sound of an explosion can be the most desirable
for your ears. Yeah, he is a straightforward cyborg of some
kind, he shows incredible parameters for some points, but
what about his speed of adaptation for the “Seraphim” kit …
Um … Cyborg? Damn, that’s right, and that explains
everything.
If he was specially trained for such a profession, then why not
assume that a number of implants were installed in him,
significantly increasing his characteristics, adaptability and
data processing speed together with the speed of response. It is
still very doubtful that he is a full-fledged cyborg, perhaps,
after replication; he will lose everything he was implanted
with.
But with the current tasks he will cope very easily, and even if
I do not destroy him now, having acquired the profession of
Scurfifer, he will become practically unkillable. But it is not
indicated in one of the sources that a cyborg cannot become a
Scurfifer. There was only a restriction on Psionics. But what if
his owners went even further and ignored the bans?
I’m afraid to even think what can happen with Ernest if he was
transplanted with some of the mutated organs or has play
around with mutagen injections. It is quite scary, fuck, I even
got goose bumps. But if you think in this manner, then his
slight mental disorder is quite understandable, and you don’t
even want to imagine what happens when his mind completely
goes insane.
Judging by the steps, he is only about ten meters away from
me. Three walls are between us, which are formed due to the
interchange of corridors and a flight of stairs, and they save
me from detection in the thermal range. As soon as he enters
this intersection, he will immediately notice me. Now, the
main thing is to have time to react at the right moment.

My whole body tightened up, literally based on the reflexes I
checked whether the belt of the machine gun was tightened
properly so that it did not hit me on my back. The numbness in
my right leg was almost gone, and the distant echoes of the
pain had already begun to appear, but to implement my plan I
still have enough time. Having touched with my left hand the
thigh, I made sure that everything was in its place and I could
quickly grab it if needed.
The explosion of the last mine worked out for me as a call to
action. It had been installed exactly at the junction. Jumping
out of the room in which I was hiding, not sparing my injured
leg, I rushed at Ernest at maximum speed, activating Glideknees. When my legs weaken and I fall on my knees for
further sliding, my leg shoots with pain so that black circles
begin to appear in my eyes.
But, by clenching my teeth, I tilt the torso back and throw to
the right a non-activated grenade to which the cable is
attached. Ernest just put down his hand, which covered his
eyes from the explosion, and did not have time to react when
seeing me. In fact, he noticed me only when I passed on my
knees to his left side, squeezing the second end of the cable in
my hand.
The grenade that flew to his right, by inertia, made several
turns, winding the cable around his legs. Deactivating Glideknees, I immediately turned over on my stomach and jumped,
with all my strength pulled the cable towards me, tightening
the loop and making a kind of hooking, dropping Ernest with
his face on the floor. It seems a trifle that did not cause him
damage at all, but I achieved what I wanted.
Jumping immediately to the fallen Ernest and I injected the
substance into the only known weak point of his jumpsuit. As
soon as the needle of the syringe pierced the thin fabric in the
hollow on the back side of the knee, I pressed the piston.
Turning instantly, I rushed in the opposite direction, sticking
the regenerator substance into my neck as I was running.
Three minutes, only three minutes, is the time I have to hold
out and not let myself be found out, well, or just not let him
catch up with me. Therefore, I can’t do without Tilorn’s

injection for regeneration now, and my leg hurts terribly with
every movement that I will soon clench my teeth together. But
the “Gates of Hell” just got into Ernest, and I count on the side
effects of this substance very much.
“Ha-ha-ha … You seem to have confused the injections!”
Ernest’s laughing voice came to me. “It made me only
stronger!”

Well, well, let’s see how you go on like this. Ignoring his
laughter, I jumped out of the building and ran into the next
one, reaching almost the middle, abruptly changed direction
and jumped out through the window, jerking on the stamina to
the new. Unfortunately, now I can only run, trying not to get in
front of him. He showed high results, and now he should
become almost one and a half times stronger, faster, smarter …
In short, forty percent better than he was.
If I just get in front of him, he will slap me like a fly. I hid
under the stairs of the close building, quickly checked the
grenades that were left, simultaneously looking at the scale of
fatigue, waiting for the moment when it would allow me to run
further. Unfortunately, there were not a lot of grenades: there
was plasma and impulse ones.
But there were still a lot of cartridges, I couldn’t shoot at him
because, he was chasing me like a hare. Only one store of
bullet was used, but by eighty percent squandered the battery
for a pulsed barrel, by the way, it should be replaced while
there was a couple of seconds of time.
After looking around, I could see that the place was not
particularly good for being able to sit out, so I would have to
move on, almost a minute had passed, there was still quite a
bit of time left. I had already started to get up to run across to a
new shelter, a sharp pain pierced my chest, and I practically
spat out a blood clot right into my helmet, slapping half of my
view with bloody stains.

I will kill Tilorn, it seems that this stuff also has side effects,
and I have not even opened information about it, just by taking
into account his description. Three seconds later, the spasm
released. Shrugging my shoulders from side to side and
slightly stooping, I straightened up. There seems to be no new
spasm, debuff icons have not appeared, lives are gradually
filling up. Okay, not such a strong consequence, so I will move
on.
Getting close to the nearest window, I carefully looked at the
open space, and, not noticing anything dangerous, jumped
over the window sill, immediately rushing to the next shelter.
Looking at the clock in the interface, I could not hold back the
smiles, only one and a half minutes remained, and then I
would run in search of Ernest. At least the sensitivity, which
grew by eight hundred percent, will be an extremely
unpleasant surprise for him.
Literally at the last moment, I noticed a decent piece of
concrete flying right at me. The next moment I was blown
away like a fluff. And under the indicators of life and other
nonsense flashed icons debuff. “Rib fracture” jumped out and
instantly changed to “Multiple rib fractures”, and right after it,
cracks in the ribs, damage to the lungs, and similar effects of
such a collision fell, causing me to spit blood in the helmet
again.
Fucking battle, how it hurts. Seeing almost nothing because of
the bloody stains, I hardly got out from under the remnants of
concrete. Unfortunately, I could only feel the fingers clenching
my throat. Tearing me off the floor, with a sharp movement he
pressed me back into the road surface, only with my back,
causing a new outbreak of pain, which had darkened my eyes
for a second.
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?” Ernest shouted at me.

I was not going to answer, and I doubt that I can now squeeze
something sensible out of myself. The helmet was already
almost half filled with my own blood, which prevented
breathing normally. And where did I get so much of it? And
why did it decide to splash out through my mouth?
Probably, these two blows led to abundant internal bleeding …
I wanted to check the icons of debuffs, but my eyes simply
refused to see anything. I doubt that the regeneration will cope
with such damage, which means I have only a short time
before replication. He raised me again and slammed my back
on the floor.
“ANSWER!”

He is so restless, but I will not give up so easily, at least for the
moment, but I will spoil his skin. While he was there, he was
gurgling, I felt with my right hand the handle of the machine
gun, which he released when he knocked me off my feet, and
by touch turned into automatic mode, I tried to turn the barrel
towards the enemy. The blow to the arm was terrible; he
seemed to activate the glove at the moment of the strike. And
the most annoying thing is that now I could feel my arm only
up to my elbow.
- I have not finished with you! I will make you suffer until …
… AAAaarghhrh ….

Is my hearing disabled? And why did he let me go? I do not
care, I must urgently remove the helmet, and because I’m like
a blind kitten. Turning over on its side, I snapped off the clips
with my left hand, unblocking throat that was tightening the
helmet from below, after which I was able to reach with the
disobedient fingers to the latches of the helmet itself. As soon

as I unlocked the lower part of the helmet, blood that had
accumulated inside immediately flowed down my arm.
While I managed to take off my helmet with my numb left
hand, shouts stirring with squeal and completely
incomprehensible gurgling sounds continued to reach me.
Having finally freed my head from the helmet, I immediately
turned my head toward the wavering sounds.
Ernest was rolling on the concrete floor, clasping his head with
his hands and trying to rip off his helmet and mask, while
mercilessly tearing off pieces of these elements of armor,
simultaneously breaking glasses. What kind of power does one
need to have in order to break such a high-strength alloy?
Having thrown out another portion of blood, I tried to get up to
finish off this guy, but when I tried to lean my hand on
concrete, I simply plopped my face into a pool of blood, which
I had just vomited. I stared blankly at my right hand, which
had let me down so much in an attempt to rise. To my shock, I
found just a stump just above the elbow with chunks of bone
and torn pieces of meat and tendons sticking out in different
directions. Was he the one who completely cut my hand off? I
thought it was just numb from a strong blow, and it turns out
that I am now generally a one-armed cripple. Thoughts
jumped from one to another, confused because of the rolling
waves of pain.
Everything was floating in front of my eyes. With tremendous
effort, I could barely concentrate my eyes on the strip of lives,
which was filled only by a fifth and under it in several rows a
multitude of icons framed by a black frame. I seem to have
grabbed the debuffs notably, and with my guts I feel that most
of them are injuries.
Supporting myself with my left hand, I could hardly get down
on all four limbs, and then I did it with the third attempt to
straighten up on trembling legs. As if I was drunk, I was
moving from side to side, and it took me a lot of effort just to
stand on my feet. When I was once again shoved away, Ernest
was here. He stood on all limbs with his back to me, and blood
dripped onto the concrete. Jumping to my feet, he abruptly

turned to me and literally in one step turned out to be almost
back to back.
“AAArrrr,”he issued a growling cry to my face.

Oh my God, look at his face … or rather his beastly nature, he
no longer looked like a human being. The lower jaw stretched
far forward and now consisted of three segments. The chin
went down, and the side parts diverged away from its roar,
forming an impressively large mouth, which contained only
teeth and nothing more.
Now he obviously won’t be able to chat. Although it is
surprising how injection with the substance, having
description “It can cause a spontaneous mutation”,
transformed him. It is a pity only a part of the ammunition,
which he just tore from him, apparently, from the pain, which
caused the restructuring of the body, and even under increased
sensitivity. So in his eyes there is not even a flash of his mind,
the pain seems to have burned his mind.
All these thoughts just swept through my mind at the speed of
a train, while on some reflexes I pulled out the remaining
plasma grenade with my left hand, and activating it, I through
to put it into this huge mouth. All of my strength was not
enough, and by inertia, I fell forward to the free place, formed
due to the fact that Ernest bounced off after the grenade stuck
in his throat.
How sometimes time drags, I am not able to move on the
concrete and I watch Ernest trying to get rid of the grenade
stuck there in his mouth a few meters away from me. And for
some reason I felt so good, despite the wild pain and the last
bits of life. Although it is clear why - I still managed to get this
guy, although I will die now.
The explosion hit me with bloody bits and pieces mixed with
brains and plasma drops, which began to burn many holes in

me, and my mind could not stand the new influx of pain and
plunged into such saving darkness.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: AM I DYING OR IS IT
STILL TOO EARLY FOR ME?
Darkness… It is so dark here that it is almost unreal: I feel it
touching me with all the cells of my body … Or, maybe, my
consciousness was drifting in this darkness, it does not matter
… It covers me now, but at the same time this darkness seems
absolutely unlimited and yet so close in all its incarnation.
Exactly so, I just need to dissolve in it, discarding all the
vibrations, stop fighting and, gritting my teeth, tear the veins
apart. It’s not necessary to prove to anyone that you can do it,
that you are not a cowardly rat, but you have your honor. After
all, how much more time can I try to change what is happening
around, so that it is an honorable deed, done with conscience,
and the evil all the same comes out again and again.
How many years have I given for such a fight? Seventy or
eighty? Most likely, even ninety… because after my
retirement, I was never able to completely take my hand off
the pulse of the events around me. And here again the events
are spinning around me, on which the further fate of other
people depends.
That’s enough! I’m sick and tired, it’s time and I want to retire,
into this endless silence that the darkness enveloping me is
ready to give me. Yeah, I wanna relax like that and surrender
to its gentle caress, allowing me to penetrate into the very
depths of my consciousness so that I could completely
dissolve in it.
*Flash.*
“Hold him stronger! STRONGER, I said! Why are you doing
this like you are touching a woman’s boobs, squeeze normally,
you just must not let him bleed out. Life line is already at the
bottom.”

*Darkness.*
Was it Tilorn? It was like his voice, and why was he shouting
like that? Are they trying to keep me from dying? But this is
useless, with such wounds like mine, they simply have no
chance. Or do I not know something? Whatever it is, it is no
longer important, because I decided to continue not to fight
and dissolve in the darkness that surrounds me.
*Flash.*
“OK, Castra, take off your gloves, his heart beats.”
“Really?” she sobbed.
“Yes, it is for sure, now, the main thing is to hold onto it and
not let him die completely until the regeneration overpowers
the debuffs,” again, Tilorn’s voice.
“Yes, he has debuffs like there are fleas on a dog. And my
hands are already numb from clamping the wound,” - and then
there is like Quartz’s voice, to my right.
“Be patient for a couple of minutes, dear,” Castra said through
sobbing. “It is necessary to hold out a couple of minutes, while
Irala is bringing a mobile regenerator.”
*Darkness.*
Looks like my heart stopped beating. Was it that they decided
to create the field defibrillator from Castra gloves? Well, it
would be logical, given that her electric dischargers are on her
knuckles. But how, then, Quartz was not electrocuted, who, as
I understood, squeezed my stump, stopping bleeding?
Although if he wrapped a belt around my hand and just held it
by the edges with his hands so that it does not loosen, then
everything is logical.
But what’s the purpose of thinking so hard? They should give
me peace of mind, and in twelve hours they would wait for me

near the replicator. No, it is definitely not so simple, they seem
to me quite clever, so they are doing it on purpose. Maybe, I
just do not have all the information and something pushed
them to such a step.
Wait a second … What was I, a couple of moments ago … Um
… well, or a couple of hours ago … Hmm … Somehow it’s
hard to track down. In short, have I recently really considered
the thought of just giving up? Oh fuck, you will not see me
die; I will first break the bones of all of them, and then also
chop them into parts. So, where is the way out of this asshole
situation, or they even don’t have a light bulb?
*Flash.*
I opened my eyes and stared at the translucent cap over me,
and then messages were sent to me, as if my neural interface
had been subjected to a hacker attack. Running over the text, I
calmed down - it was the system messages that came through
the filter again. And if they are filtered, that means they are
important, there is something interesting for me.
It is necessary to get out of the replicator and deal with a
bunch of messages. Attempting to reach the device cover was
not successful. I was rigidly fixed with straps that pulled my
body to the bed. Turning my head, I realized my mistake; I
was not in the replicator, but in the regenerator. It seems that
the guys were able to take my mortal body, not allowing it to
die.
“He woke up!” The voice of Sargos came to me. Only he
himself was somewhere else.

Judging by his tone, he did not speak to me. So now they will
start to admire my face and will not allow reading the
messages calmly. Mentally, I closed up all the jumped up

alerts and prepared to welcome my guests. The first person I
saw was a medic in his usual overalls, it was he who unlocked
the regeneration capsule and freed me from the straps. But
Sargos was already following him, who seemed to be on duty
near me.
“Where are the others?” I asked him, to which he simply
showed with his fingers a gesture imitating fingering with his
feet. Then I noticed the time in the interface. “Well, I was
lying for not so long, only five hours.”
“Fifty-three,” said Sargos, shaking his head.
“Why fifty three?”
“Fifty three hours.”

I was shocked. It turns out I spent two days and five hours in
the regeneration capsule. When the other members of my team
come; I will deal with the time lost. First, I need to at least get
dressed, otherwise I would appear before our young ladies
completely naked - it is not comme il faut. Ignoring the medic
who took the data from the regeneration capsule, I went to the
locker and began to get dressed. It was just there that only the
usual hospital kit was found.
“And where is the rest?” Sargos expressed his surprise.
“Junk,”he said sadly, which immediately made it clear that I
had no things left.
“Where is my backpack?”

Looking down, Sargos shook his head. That was a gift from
Carefire; it’s really hard to find such a backpack. There are, of
course, other modifications, but either the demands are

excessive, or these are overall uncomfortable models. As soon
as I managed to put on a silver robe, incidentally complaining
about the injustice that you leave the replicator already in it,
and then you have to dress yourself, Quartz immediately went
into the room.
“Volper! Damn, how glad I am that everything is alright with
you,” jumping up to me, he firmly embraced me in a fit of
emotion, and then, moving away, continued. “When I saw this
motherfucker from the mountain hit your arm, and it was in
pieces, and blood was like a fountain in all directions, I almost
shitted. And he, having soldered you into the ground a couple
of times rebounded from some fright. Well, I thought, that was
the end for Volper; I already wanted to get going to the nearest
replicator. And then bang, and you are lying in the blood-place
without your right hand, you rise like some kind of immortal
and drive a grenade into his mouth. Well, it was just an epic
video!”

He was chattering, incessantly trying to show it still in the
scenes, as if I wasn’t there and I didn’t know how it all
happened. Sargos, covering his face with his hand, gently
shook his head from side to side. It seems that our technician
has already retold his vision of the situation to everyone. Then
the door opened slightly, and Castra entered the room
gracefully. But almost immediately, she froze and frowned,
pulled out her gloves from her belt.
“QUARTZ!” You could see surprise in my eyes; I never
thought that she could bark like that, I myself almost jumped!

Quartz, apparently realizing what was in store for him, became
suddenly silent and pressed his head into his shoulders, and
threw a cornered look back. Noticing that Castra defiantly

pulls the glove on her right hand up to the top, shrank even
more and, putting his hands in the direction of Castra, began to
retreat behind me.
“OK, my dear Castra, I understand everything clearly, I don’t
say anything; please, no cuffs, you have a very heavy hand!”

But this did not save him, Castra approached him, frowning
menacingly, and there was a feeling that she was not going to
retreat from her execution.
“How many times… do I have to tell ya…” she was saying
each word slowly, as she was moving toward Quartz. “Use…
Normal Human Language! Did you promise me this?!
“Well … Um … I …” he retreated, turning his head around in
search of a direction to save his mortal body. “Eh, we live only
once!” having gotten full lungs of air, he blurted out. “Castra,
I love you!”

Quickly jumping to Castra who was already about to hit him,
he smacked her lips and, half a step backward, he closed his
eyes tightly, pulling his head into his shoulders, it seemed,
expecting the blow. But it did not follow, Castra froze for a
few seconds in the same position in which she felt the kiss of
Quartz, and then, embarrassedly smiling, she hugged him and
whispered something.
I rolled my eyes: children, oh my God, they are children,
sometimes, watching their antics, I get the feeling that they are
fourteen-year-olds. On the left there was a monotonous thud.
Looking back there, I saw Sargos knocking his head against
the wall.

“Hasn’t he still confessed to her?”

Having stopped the monotonous thuds, Sargos shook his head
negatively, after which he continued to carry out the bangs
against the wall. Hmmm … And I have long believed that they
talked to each other, but here it is now.
“I thought I understood you a long time ago, but still you
manage to show something new,” came the voice of Irala
behind my back. Well, watching this couple in love, I turned
my back to the door.
“You see, Irala,” came Tilorn’s voice. “Many people find it
difficult to say such simple words as “I love you,” even though
they may have had a relationship for several years. There are
even cases when a short phrase has never been said by
married couple who have lived for very long together and
have had children.”
“Sometimes it is difficult to understand you … You are very
illogical!” She made a conclusion.

Slowly I turned to the couple in love and caught Tilorn’s gaze.
I do not know, maybe he has empathy or telepathy, but he was
staring straight by my gaze, and he stepped back a step.
“Tilorn … And tell me, my dear friend,” I began in a quiet
voice. “What did I ask you to do before my duel”?
“Well… medication to enhance…”
“And what did you do?”
“Hmm … well, I prepared them,” he began to calm down a
little, not seeing the trick in my questions. But still, in my
voice, he felt that something was wrong.

“OK, really, you’re a geneticist, aren’t you? I injected your
drug into Ernest and I think you saw what happened to him…”
“Is it the way to the Gate of Hell?” His eyes began to
resemble two round saucers.
“Yeah, so now you understand, from now on, I refuse to let you
try your suspicious drugs on me.”

But he did not hear me at that time, he was lost in his thoughts,
and, I hope, he did not decide to create any other filthy drugs
on the basis of this injection. And even I am afraid to imagine
what he can create out there. Combat toxins are a very familiar
thing, but combat mutagens are somehow too much.
- Ahem…

Coughing up, our medic who had finished taking the data from
the regeneration capsule attracted my attention. Here is
someone who really pumped up “Invisibility” to unattainable
heights. I do not know about the others, but I let him out of his
attention, which is not very good, it is clear that I was relaxed
too.
- “Yes?” - I was laconic.
“Judging by the data from the regenerator, your body is fine,
but I would still recommend not overloading your restored
limb for a couple of days.”
“OK,” I nodded to him. “I will try to protect it”.
“Then I am asking to leave the capsule, because he needed to
prepare it for a new patient may appear at any time.”
“Yes, sure, as you say.”

Well, what else can I say now? After all, he is in his own right,
and if we take into account that even here at safe levels you
can find trouble, he is right. So my team and I had to get out
into the corridor, where I was finally able to ask a question
that worried me so much.
“By the way, people, and why have you all been so worried, so
as not to let me die? Well, I would lose a couple of percent of
the skill, and I would make up later.”

Continuing to walk down the corridor, I did not immediately
notice that the others had stopped. And when I turned around,
I found a pantomime with a peeking. They obviously crumple,
not daring to tell me something. Somehow it annoys me.
Although no, they simply cannot decide who will say the
information to me.
“You see …” after a couple of seconds, Tilorn took the floor.
“Literally at that moment, when you were left without a hand,
we learned that Scurfifers have a problem with replication …
How can I explain it to you,” he hesitated, and looked around
at the others, either in searching for the right words, or looking
for support from the others . “The fact is that Scurfifers are
given one replication every five days.”
“Considering the situation and your urgent actions,” I
continued thoughtfully. “I understand that the first replication
is given only on the fifth day after receiving the profession?”
“Yes,” for greater persuasiveness, he also nodded his head.
“We could not risk it, because it is not clear what would
happen to people like us. Maybe they will close access for five
days, or even delete the account and you will have to start all
over again. Or if really …” saying the last sentence, he
faltered and, quickly looking back at the others, ended up
clearly not in the way he had planned. “In general, we did not

dare to let you go beyond the line. There were too many
chances to really lose you.”

Now their motivation really becomes clear. According to my
observations, Tilorn also suspects the reality of what is
happening, so his actions were very logical. After all, if
everything is real here, there was every chance of dying for
real; it was not for nothing that I can be seeing these
hallucinations of “Darkness”.
From the same point, one can also consider the reaction of
Irala, for her everything is real here. Therefore, even deleting
my account is my real death for her. Well, the others seem to
have succumbed to the moment and heat up the situation. But
anyway, I am very grateful to them for their support, which I
voiced. That’s just…
“Wait a second, so it was a deadly duel in the literal sense of
the word? After all, it turns out that Ernest finally died” this is
the unrecorded factor of the battle.
“No, Ernest didn’t die,” Christopher’s voice came from
behind me. “He lost a temporarily issued profession.
Therefore, he went on replication on a common basis.”

But what is it; all day long today everybody crawls up to me
from the back. And the worst thing is that for some reason I’m
missing them out of my attention, allowing them to get close
to me unnoticed. So, Volper, you should get together, and then
the real skills that have been worked out so hard during the
years of military service begin to fail, and this is not good, and
it is not far from an unpleasant situation.
“And why didn’t you tell me right away before the dueling?” I
turned to Mr. De-Line.

“Sorry, sir, but I thought you knew about it, since you
demanded compensation.”

He fucked me up, I will not say anything. Yeah, plus if we
analyze our conversation, then I really did look like a
confident person with all the necessary information, and now,
with the speed of a fighter, I lose respect points in
Christopher’s eyes.
“All information can only be owned by the Server,” I tried to
correct the error with a question. “But my information was
enough for me to win.”
“Touché!” He admitted. “It’s even pointless to argue. And
even more so, now I have at least a little confidence that you
can fulfill my task.”
“By the way, as to your assignment. I would like to get access
to the equipment promised. As you can see, I am worn out in
the last battle,” smiling, I spread my arms, giving him the
opportunity to admire the things that were on me.
“Of course!” He smiled in response. “That is why I came
here. Therefore, I propose to continue the conversation in my
car, which is parked near the entrance.”

There was no reason to refuse, so I simply moved in the
direction suggested to me. We were silent going up to the car,
somehow there was no desire to discuss anything with him as
he did not give a topic for conversation. This time, an ordinary
car was waiting for us, if you can call a car a wheeled track,
stylized as an ancient limousine, as usual.
After sitting up inside, everyone was lost in their thoughts,
even though one or another member of the team was trying to
tell me something, but their desire to speak was stopped by
Christopher. And only Irala used the emailing service.

Sender:
Irala
Text of the letter:
I never thought that I could say such a thing, but I was very
worried about you. And now, I am very glad that everything
worked out well for us.

Recipient:
Irala
Text of the letter:
Thank you, I am very pleased.

Now there are a couple of minutes of silence, so it is probably
worth picking up the bunch of messages that I turned off
waiting for my guys. So, what have we got here? No, damn, I
do not need all of them at the same time, better in order, as
they appeared. Hmm … and if so? It’s not good, either. Ok
now, I figured it out. Now I can go into reading.
Attention! (Well, yes, how can it be without this familiar
beginning phrase), you have got the profession Scurfifer,
now you have access to the “Professions” tab in the neural
interface. Also, professional growth is now available to
you. Achieve the title of the best master in the chosen
profession, and you will discover new horizons.
Professional growth? Interestingly, what is it and what I can do
with it? It will be necessary for their guys to later clarify how
this moment manifests itself in them. So, how do you

understand the point about “The best master in the chosen
profession”? And what if I am its only representative?
Okay, and what do we have in the “Professions” tab? Having
opened the neural interface, I quickly found the necessary tab,
which was divided into three parts. The first was a list of
professional skills, with almost all the icons of the tree were
darkened; only the three lowest ones were highlighted in gray.
In the second part of the tab there were professional tasks.
There was now only one single line. I don’t know when I
managed to get the first task after getting the profession, but
judging by the name, it was given automatically “Determine
your development path!” Expanding the task, I found a short
description, so reminiscent of a classic quest.
Title: Determine your development path!
Description:
At the dawn of Alfarome, its society needed protection, not
only from an external enemy, but also from an internal one.
Obvious external enemies were destroyed by the formed
divisions of the SVF, but it was much more difficult to deal
with the internal enemy, because society would not fight
corruption and the difference in court decisions depending
on the security of the suspects, finally they did not succeed in
overcoming it. Because of this, it was decided to create a
separate unit that would be responsible for eliminating the
internal enemies of society, cleaning out this infection in
Alfarome’s body with fire, and it will only be controlled by
the Server so that no one has any influence on this unit.
Task: Choose one of the three paths for the development of
the Scurfifer.
Warning: The other two paths will be blocked for you.
Reward: extra point of professional skill.

Um … A little piece of information in the description of the
first quest almost turned upside down my understanding of this
profession. After all, it is not at odds with what I was told
before, but it reveals much more widely why this profession
was created at all.
I do not even know which words to choose. Probably the
closest thing will be the concept of “Liquidator”. It seems that
the dirtiest work was assigned to Scurfifers - it is clear why
they were not liked so much. Who will admire the executioner,
ready at any moment to cut off your head, if you have broken
the law?
This is not the usual law enforcement organizations that catch,
prove and then execute the sentence only in accordance with
the court’s ruling. Scurfifers seem to have the right to judge
and punish without these procedures… But wasn’t this the real
reason for hunting down Scurfifers?
Okay, we’ll think about it later, first I need to sort out the
available information in detail. Looking at the third zone of the
tab, I sighed disappointedly: it was completely empty, which is
understandable, judging by the title.
The status of the progress of the profession

It seems that now I will have to develop not only the skills and
abilities, but also the profession itself. Well, it is not such a
burden, if there is a chance, I will develop it. Returning to the
skills section, I glanced over the available icons and noticed a
small line at the very bottom.
Professional skill points: 1

One point can be given for opening the path of development.
But now the skill in the right part will be increased thanks to
the reward for the quest. Wait… why did they tell me that
there are no skills for the Scurfifer? Damn, I don’t understand
a thing: the farther we go, the less I grasp of what I was told
about the profession and what I see now.
Moreover, paths have no description, but only three names.
Am I supposed to choose at random? Or focus only on the
names? And maybe I should mentally click on one of them,
and then the description will appear? What if it is regarded as
activation? No, I won’t risk it. I ran my eyes over the names of
all three available ways.
“Cleaner”
“Defender”
“The keeper”

And what should I choose from this list? I’d better look
around, I’ll see what other alerts there are here, and maybe
they will at least clarify something.
Attention! Your opponent in the duel due to the
destabilization of the mental matrix was disqualified. You
are awarded a technical victory.

What do they mean?! What the fuck technical victory? What
does the destabilization of the mental matrix mean? I cannot
understand it

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: SYSTEM MESSAGES,
LOGS, AND NO CHOICE
I was sitting and staring in the distance - there was only
emptiness in my head. Somehow it did not occur to me; how it
could have happened that I got a technical victory. Well, the
process itself was clear. But why wasn’t the test site
deactivated immediately, the moment I was recognized as the
winner? Although, if you remember, Sanych personally
deactivated the test site from the console, if it was the same
here, then the technician at the console, seeing the
continuation of our battle, could not understand that I had
already won. Therefore, the deactivation command was not
given, it seems everything is logical and fits normally into the
situation. So we take it as a working version that the
deactivation of the training grounds was late due to the human
factor, due to the fault of the technician on duty.
But the next question does not have any explanation. After all,
only the Server is responsible for the status of the Scurfifer,
and if, at the moment of recognizing my victory, Ernest was
deprived of his profession, then why weren’t the restrictions of
the Seraphim kit off, blocking the ability to move?
Unfortunately, there is too little data to have any clear
answers. It is necessary to look through not only the system
messages, but also in the logs, carefully sorting out by time
what and whence. But it is not a matter of five minutes, there
is no need to be in a hurry, so I’m in a car now and it’s
pointless to rush it all over, it’s possible to miss something
important. And considering that we have already started
dropping speed, it means that we have arrived.
Indeed, in just five seconds, we parked near a gray square
building fifty-story high, around which there was a meter-high
fence with small towers of automatic turrets that were located
every three meters. Two-second delay near the entrance gate.
And now heavy armored doors sounded opening to the sides,
letting us enter the territory.

“This is one of the central stores of our company,” De-Line
decided to tell us. “Concurrently it is also the main
warehouse.”
“It looks more like a prison than a store,” Quartz muttered.
“The first impression is deceptive,” Christopher didn’t even
move his eyebrow at Quartz jokes. “People come here who
know exactly where they are going, so we don’t need
embellishment and loud and bright signs. It is economically
feasible to invest in the defense of this store than in its beauty.
Moreover, there are still short-sighted individuals who
sometimes try to rob this store.”

On hearing these words, it seemed to me that a light bulb lit up
in my head! That’s what bothered me from the moment I woke
up. And then a logical chain developed: a store, a warehouse,
an attempted robbery, that is, the extraction of things stored in
a warehouse. And I didn’t take the trophies due to me from
Ernest.
“Hmm …” - attracting attention, I coughed. – “Where are the
things from Ernest?”
“Irala has got them. Only there is little left from his remains,”
quoting Christopher, Quartz answered with obvious
reluctance.

It seems I have received the answer to my question, but now
I’m on edge since I’m very curious to know what was there.
Now is not the time to be distracted, there will be an
opportunity - the guys will tell me everything themselves,
well, or send a letter. Coming out of the car, under the close
supervision of the security, we entered the building and went
up to the third floor, where a room with soft sofas was waiting
for us.

“Please, sit down!” said Christopher. “Now managers will
come to you and help you choose a set of equipment for
everyone, according to my commitment to our contract. And
you, Volper, will have to wait twenty minutes, the transport
vehicle with things for you is on the way. Unfortunately, I
urgently need to go away, so accept the file; it has all the
necessary data and coordinates.”

After confirming the incoming message, I wanted to ask a
couple of questions, but Christopher had already left the
waiting room. Well, fuck with him, but now there is a bit of
time again to look into the logs. Showing with a gesture that
the others would keep their mouths shut, because here, most
likely, the tracking devices are simply in abundance, I again
plunged into the interface. Let’s proceed to the next system
message, shall we?
Attention! You are the first to receive the Scurfifer
profession in a long time. You are assigned the achievement
“The First Banner of the Legion”, the entire table of
rewards, bonuses and discounts, given to Scurfifers, is
open for you.

It is wonderful and great, of course, no doubt, but where
should I look for this table now? It seems to be a great
achievement, theoretically, I have now been given such a good
reward, but in practice I am neither cold nor hot after getting
this. I have a specially trained team member to search for
information.
Recipient: Irala
Text of the letter:

I have a little task for you … I hope that it is not difficult…
When you are free, please look up the information on what
rewards, bonuses and discounts there are for Scurfifers.
Ideally, somewhere there is a complete table with this data.

I’m sending the message and then look at Irala, a moment
pause, and she, catching my eyes, slightly bows her head.
Well, I almost figured it out, now I can read further. But it was
necessary to stop for just a minute; a dozen people came into
our room, dressed like old-fashioned white-collar clerks in
black pants for the boys, and dark narrow skirts just below the
knees of the girls.
“Hello!” A plump and already balding man of average height
greeted me. “My name is Leonty, my colleagues and I have the
task of helping you find a set of equipment. Therefore, we have
enrolled two specialists for each of you who will be able to
professionally advise you on all your issues.” Having looked
at us and making sure that we are listening to him, he
continued. “Therefore, I ask everyone to proceed with one of
the two managers for the selection of equipment.”

After waiting for me to confirm, my team began to move, and
literally in ten seconds I was left completely alone in the room.
At last, silence and peace, now I can look through the rest of
the system alerts, otherwise everyone wants to prevent me
from doing this. With mixed feelings, not knowing what to
expect next, by my mental order I unfolded the following
message:
Attention! At the moment you are the only operating
Scurfifer, according to the directory number 12586-12574
sub-clause A, you are assigned the junior rank of “Junior
Commander”, with a monthly salary of one hundred

seventy-three thousand eight hundred sixty-three credits.
You can familiarize yourself with the job description,
rights and duties at the senior duty officer, or at the service
terminal of the nearest Scurfifer dispenser.

I seem to have started to twitch my eyes, well, at least there is
no one around. The Server is mocking me with such messages!
I am beyond words, only emotions, and obscene words come
out of me. Not only did I get credited to some service because
of the profession, but they also gave me the title, putting the
responsibility on me.
But how joyful is the information about the job description,
even though it bangs your head against the wall. Where can I,
fuck, find a senior officer on duty? I, damn, am the only
Scurfifer… Although it is very similar to the message
compiled by one of the headquarters’ military man - they often
have the beginning of an order contradicting its ending.
I can recall with a smile the situation with the rebels on Sariot5, when we lost about twenty minutes only to understand what
they really wanted from us. Damn, what was the message …
Oh, that piece sounded like this: “You are to carry out the
elimination of the enemy unit, by the available automatic hand
weapon, without entering into fire contact?!” And now they
are proposing to find someone who, in reality, does not exist,
as stated in the same notification.
But the last piece of text is very interesting. There were points
of permanent dislocation of Scurfifers in the past, and then
there is a very high chance that at least a couple of these in a
wait mode state still exist, especially at the fifth and lower
levels. And, in theory, there should be a lot of information
about my profession. It will be necessary, if possible, to try
and find such a place. The following alert only reinforced the
idea that I needed to look for conserved Scurfifer objects.

Attention! You, as the senior operating officer, are given
the access code to the closed objects,
ZA19927GE88300KL02876MT74920CM09846. Also you
are assigned the task to de-mothball one of the objects
within six months in order to prepare this pace for the
military service and new Scurfifers.

Damn, that was exactly what I was afraid of when I realized
that I was given my rank, without even asking my opinion
about it. Half a year does not seem to be a short time, but I
can’t even imagine where to start searching for these objects.
Although here, probably, I can be helped by Carefire or
Sanych, it’s not for nothing that they needed such a person
with this particular profession. The next messages alerted me
immediately by ticking.
Attention! As a current senior officer, you are temporarily
given the command of the Scurfifer forces … Error! The
list of personnel is too small to fill in the minimum
requirement for the group. You are temporarily granted
the right to engage civilians and other law enforcement
and paramilitary forces in operations. Before sending the
notice to all structures about the requirement to assist you
in any official operations 1:02:27 left
1:02:26
1:02:25
…
…
…

And here is a setup for me, now even with all the attempts to
hide the information that I am a Scurfifer, I will definitely fail.

If I understood correctly, in an hour my face will be
everywhere. So, it turns out, they gave me fifty-five hours to
decide what to do with this information, and I managed to stay
almost all the time in the regeneration capsule.
So, the usual alerts ended, leaving only a couple of rolled up
with a bright red borderline. Something I didn’t come across
before, it’s even scary to look through them. Given the
information in the ordinary messages, I cannot even imagine
what awaits me in the alerts, obviously requiring their coloring
attention. But I have nowhere to escape, so sighing and
preparing for the worst, unfolded the first one.
Alert! Replication found out of control. As a matter of
urgency, all the nearest Scurfifers are required to start
eliminating it! The coordinates are sent to the central post.
All senior officials are informed in real time
Error! The central post is not active; the data is
transferred to the free outpost and to all the Scurfifers in
within the level to their personal mini-cards
…
…
…
Error! The extra outpost is not responding, the data is
transmitted to all the data link processor of Scurfifers and
their personal mini-maps within three levels
…
…
…
Error! DLP B0116, A1724, A1056 react to the signal, but
do not provide a report on receiving the info. The
remaining twenty-six data link processors do not respond
to signals. The data is transferred to the managers of the
reserve bases
…

…
…
Error! Signal has been accepted by sixteen objects in the
status of “Conservation”. Due to the impossibility of
canceling the conservation, the AI cannot take the
prescribed measures.
…
…
…
Error! The signal is received by three mobile repair bases.
Non-combat units, signal cancellation
…
…
…
Contact established! Detected unit fighter in close
proximity with replication
…
…
…
Error! Signal loss of the fighter unit.
Contact established!
Detected unit officer in close proximity with replication
…
…
…
Error! Signal loss of a unit officer
…
…
…

Contact established! A senior active unit officer was found
in close proximity with replication. Alarm data has been
transmitted. The data is automatically received by the
neural interface of the senior acting officer.
Cancel the alarm! Out of control replication has been
eliminated. The task execution data was transferred to the
central repository.

Holy shit! … Here the message board is not at all shorter than
in the logs, but even longer. I ran through only the first lines of
huge blocks of information, and my back hair stood on end. Is
it me who now also has the service log? It is not so long when
I will be overwhelmed by reports… Wait a second … An
insane assumption came to my mind out of the blue, and I
once again ran my eyes over the text in this red-colored alert.
My assumption was only supported, but for the start I decided
to check that I still was highlighted red there.
Contact established! New user interface found!
You are assigned a personal service identifier of the rank
and file of RSB 000872340.
A personal file has been added! It is sent to the team
leaders with part-time staff!
Automatic Order! A replication out of control was found
in close proximity. Ensure the safety of civilians. Conduct
evacuation of civilians from the potential zone of the
military operation. Data transferred to the mini-map. The
zone requiring urgent evacuation is highlighted in red; the
zone requiring potential evacuation is highlighted in
yellow.
Change of rank in accordance with the directory number
12586-12574 sub-clause A. An entry was created in your
personal file.

Change of personal service identifier due to change of rank
and status. Assigned a new identity number - MOSmK
000872340
Automatic Order! A replication out of control was found
in close proximity. Proceed to the elimination of the threat,
in the event of the impossibility of eliminating the threat,
tie the replication in battle and pull it into a deserted zone,
keeping it in a deserted zone until reinforcement groups
arrive. The coordinates of the target and the nearest
civilian zone are transferred to your mini-map.
Change of position due to the lack of officers in combat
positions. Automatic appointment as Senior Officer.
Created an entry in the personal file.
Change of personal service identifier due to change of
position. Assigned a new ID number - SDOKK 000872340
Automatic Order! A replication out of control was found
in close proximity. Proceed to eliminate the threat by any
available means. The coordinates of the goal transferred to
your mini-map.
Congratulations, the task has been completed! Automatic
report on the execution of the order sent to the central
repository.

Well, I do not understand … Shaking my head, I looked again
at the second log. Literally fifteen seconds passed of just
looking at two system messages… or it is more correct to call
them professional logs. And it finally came to me: the first is
the commander’s log, as it was written informing all senior
officials. So I still do not get into this category. But the second
one is a personal, which displays information coming to me as
a combat unit.
Going into my neural interface settings and sorting out a little,
I was finally able to display these alerts in the lower left
window, where I had the standard logs, just added them in

separate tabs, and, after a bit of effort, added the bookmark
blinking function when new information would appear there.
OK, I have sorted it out and now I can now proceed to the
logs. As I suspect, the mentioned replication that went out of
control - this seems to have been Ernest. But at what moment
and why, I still do not quite understand; I hope, at least I will
get a clue in the logs. Only was I going to open a sheet with
numbers, and even I had already concentrated my eyes on a
special window, then I was distracted by the quiet pneumatic
sound of the door being opened. If it were not for the silence
in the room, being almost absolute, I would hardly have
noticed it.
A dry old man appeared at the door, whose age had already
beaten him so much that his height barely exceeded one and a
half meters. A bunch of gray hair was on his head in different
directions. He shuffled his way through the entire hall to the
opposite door, almost tangling in his long-length coat, which
looked as old as he was, and at the same time it was extremely
big, I would probably even say thick, as if densely woven
wool.
Or, rather, it is densely-rolled up wool, something like that I
observed on rare animals of our time, in which the wool in
some places is very strongly rolled. The old man, not paying
attention to the surroundings, was muttering something. In the
meantime, I practically did not breathe, seeing him off. Not
only was this the first really old man I saw in Alfarome although this is not the main thing. Take for example Sanych
he is not so much outwardly old, but also not a young lad. A
complete lack of inscriptions above the old man made me hold
my breath. No levels, no titles, and even the usual “Unknown”
sign was not there. The old man, having reached the middle of
the room, stopped abruptly and turned his head towards me.
Moving his lower jaw from side to side, he somehow vaguely
said:
“Strange, there shouldn’t have been anybody like that right
now,” he pulled out a device from under his raincoat and
poked his finger at me, raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Wow,

young Scurfifer. I didn’t think that someone else would risk it
in a couple of centuries or more,” he continued, looking for
something in his device. “Aah, so you are also a replicant with
us, then it explains everything. You, replicants, always have
trouble with your head.

I tried to understand who looked at me in that light. At first I
thought that it was Christopher’s father who successfully hides
from the world so that only rumors circulate about him that he
is alive and now dead. But if we take into account the
strangeness of this grandfather and his words, I don’t even
know who it could be.
“Okay, son, since I caught your eye, I will give you one very
important piece of advice!” Do not trust anyone in Alfarome,
absolutely anyone. These bastards for so many years of life,
which technology gives them through replication, are so
agitated in intrigues that you will be easily fooled four times in
a row with ease, and you will not understand it, and after the
fifth time you will thank them!” glancing at the device, he put
it under the cloak again. “Okay, my time is ticking, so long, my
son. I advise you to remember my words.”

Turning around and mumbling something about the settings of
the router, he went out through the door to which he was
heading. And I continued to sit and stare at him. My mind
seemed to be split in two. One part was quite calm about this:
well, grandfather, so what, well, no level, maybe, it’s shaken
so that I simply don’t see the information with my parameters.
But here another part of consciousness was rushing like in a
cage, and for some reason it was extremely important for it to
catch this grandfather urgently.
Shaking my head and throwing this grandfather out of it, I
leaned back on the sofa and tried to calm down, out of habit,

looking for something in the pockets. Well, somehow I am
accustomed to thinking as I chew; I even know where I got
this habit. I succumbed somehow to bad advice, began to
smoke tobacco. Expensive and dubious pleasure, but very
addictive, thank God that I smoked for only a couple of
months, almost immediately gave up, but I got into the habit of
pulling something in my mouth when I think.
Unfortunately, this time it is necessary to ponder without
anything, somehow forgot to put something for a hungry
Volper into a standard outfit. So, what will the logs tell us
about the past, the present and, possibly, the future? Yeah, I
already saw it, it is not known how much damage is unknown
for whom, the difference is only in the type of damage, either
past, or blocked. So, it’s already the message about my leg
being hit, bleeding, intermittent blood loss.
Scroll further, biting the nail of the thumb along the way. Ugh,
disgusting, well I could not get out of the habit of nail biting.
Yeah and here my mines working, but again without any
visible effect? So, so, scroll further, stop, here is something
already interesting.
Your trap worked, causing “Unknown” kinetic damage to
the enemy “Unknown”…
You knocked down the opponent “Unknown”
You injected the “Gates of Hell” injection to the
“Unknown” opponent
Injection “Gates of Hell” imposed the effect of “Unknown”
to the enemy “Unknown”
…
…
…

Then there was a long chain of “Unknown” effects, popping
every couple of seconds. Too many of them, damn it. Or do
these ticks show me my gains? So, here comes a piece of
concrete into me. I’m shocked, it feels like my luck is
negative, such critical hit was difficult to obtain, but I got it
with many debuffs. Four broken ribs, seven cracks in different
bones, dizziness, concussion, hemorrhage in the lungs … But
how did I even manage not to drop the hoof after that?
Although according to the numbers I still had as many as nine
hit points. Also, regeneration was stably ticking, adding one or
two health units. So, what’s this?
You were inflicted 2 units of kinetic damage by the
opponent “Unknown”.

This is understandable, the first blow against the ground.
You have recovered 7 health units.
You have lost 3 health units “Bleeding”.
You lost 1 health unit “Strangulation”
You were inflicted 3 units of kinetic damage by the enemy
“Unknowing… Er…”

Here is the second blow, but it is from this moment that the
non-understandable things start. At the end of the list about
infliction there is some ambiguity with the one who inflicted it
on me.
You regained 9 health units.
You have lost 3 health units “Bleeding”.

You lost 1 health unit “Strangulation”
You inflicted 12 points of penetrating damage on enemy
“Ern … known”
“You suffered an injury “Amputation of the right hand”,
you cannot use a weapon with your right hand.
The Bleeding effect evolves to the stage Bleeding III.
The hidden feature of the achievement “Step beyond the
boundary” is activated, regeneration is accelerated three
times within ten seconds, the reinforcement “Against the
death” is superimposed, for ten seconds you ignore the
limitations of your body with the help of remnants of the
colonies of piconites.
Activation conditions are met (two or less life points, the
presence of the achievement “Step beyond the boundary”,
the presence of two or more injuries.)
You were tried to be imposed the effect of “Acoustic
disorientation” by the opponent “Ernest Melnichuk Mad
Mutated Replica”, the effect did not work due to the
presence of the “Deafness” effect on you and the “Broken
right eardrum” injury.
You have inflicted 2 units of kinetic damage to your
opponent “Ernest Melnichuk Mad Mutated Replica”.
You have dealt 118 thermal damage points to your
opponent “The Mad Mutated Replica of Ernest
Melnichuk”.

It turns out that when I got up, staggering, he was still Ernest,
who, due to pain, was trying to rip off the elements of the
costume, but when he turned to me, it wasn’t actually he.
Somewhere in this moment, it seems to me, there was a
technical victory. And the torn-up ammunition could no longer
stop him, or he tore it off due to the fact that his body began to
refuse working because of being blocked by piconites. And it

seemed to me that the achievement earned in my first dungeon
helped me. Further in the logs, I already saw as Tilorn and the
company fought for my life, keeping me on the verge of one
unit, or sometime

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: SHOPPING SPREE
What do we have in the end? It seems Scurfifer is not just a
profession, but a special militarized formation; it is not clear
why it was called a profession. The goals and objectives of
this formation are not completely clear to me. So far, I can say
with accuracy that their main duty was to protect the civilian
population from any unreliable characters and threats that
happened by chance in the vicinity of civilians.
Judging by the reports that fell on me from the tab of special
alerts, Scurfifers were a combat unit of quick response, which
could begin to eliminate the threat in a matter of minutes, if
not just seconds. This is clearly indicated by the presence in
the past of many points of permanent deployment, combat
posts and the presence of mobile repair bases.
But why were so many high-profile militants in an almost
peaceful city? If you collect the scattered pieces of information
that I came across about Scurfifers, then during the period of
recorded data, there were no hostilities. Only mutants from
sewers sometimes caused trouble. But in order to fight the
mutants, there was a division of the SVF.
If we consider the case that Scurfifers were created to
eliminate the high-level, corrupt criminals in power, with
whom the judicial system could not cope, then there is no
point in so many fighters. According to estimates, there were
twenty-nine points of permanent deployment, as well as posts.
There should be at least a dozen fighters in the permanent
disposition: a person on duty, his replacement, at least one
guard fighter and at least two response groups. This is so even
under the condition that there are already five people in a
group of just one fighter. Plus, exactly the same number
should change them. And this is the minimum number, in
reality, the state of each permanent disposition, most likely,
was of hundreds of fighters.
As a result, we get from three hundred fighters to several tens
of thousands of soldiers. Given local offense control, one
platoon of thirty people would be enough to eliminate

particularly dangerous criminals. And even then, they would
basically be out of work. In general, I have a feeling that a
tremendous bulk of work has been done on disinformation
about the real tasks of Scurfifers. But I have too little
information to determine their real tasks.
There is only one good thing now - at the moment there are
twenty-two objects that have not yet been destroyed, and there
is every chance that at least sixteen of them have not even
been looted. The difficulty lies only in finding them. I am
interested in mobile repair bases. If I understand it correctly,
they will at least allow me to repair my kit, and probably carry
out a full range of maintenance services, including the supply
of new cartridges and, you never can tell, new elements of the
kit.
Damn, who is there again sending me mail? I just began to
dream about my own production base, exclusive elements of
ammunition for Scurfifers, and why at this very moment
someone must send a letter, distracting me from such sweet
dreams. Well, my mood was spoilt altogether, so now I will
click a flashing envelope.
Sender: Quartz
Text of the letter:
Volper, there is so much stuff that is really necessary for us,
but these bastards do not want to give it to us :( They say
that only a set of ammunition and weapons for you… In
general, I ran out of money … But there are a couple of
things without which I cannot live… Will you send me any
money?

Well-well-well … It looks like my guys are now going to
spend all our money. And on the other hand, are these really
extremely necessary things? I don’t even know what to do,
because we still need ammunition, food, medicine, renewing
the charges on the Quartz robot … Yes, there will be more

things to be paid! Rolling in my thoughts on this issue in my
head and so on and so forth, I decided to send half of the
amount I had left for the guys’ purchases and, dividing the
funds into equal parts, I sent out to the each member of my
team. Immediately blinked a mail envelope.
Sender: Quartz
Text of the letter:
Thanks a lot!!! You will not regret!

Sender: Castra
Text of the letter:
Oh, and I just wanted to ask for money, and it immediately
came. Didyou learn to read thoughts?

Sender: Tilorn
Text of the letter:
Thank you, it is just in time! I’m standing here, puzzled
about whether or not to take a portable analyzer, and then
the money came, now I’ll definitely take it!

Sargos and Irala were silent, but I suspect that they will spend
the money without thinking first. Again we will go bust and be
like homeless people - I sighed sadly having such a thought,
but, I hope we will have good equipment and ammunition.
After all, if they pick up any unnecessary stuff, just because
they liked it or wanted to, I will start such a quarrel that they
will run away from me or just hide from me. The opened door
made me sharply tremble, either in anticipation of the return of

that grandfather, or in anticipation of some kind of new stuff,
which would cause another bout of cognitive dissonance.
The first to enter the room was a fighter in a robotic infantry
gear, which made him one and a half times larger than he
actually was. He even had to duck at the door to squeeze. The
grayish color of the armor matched the colors of the city,
allowing him to not stand out much from the concrete
structures. In his hands, he was holding an unknown rifle
complex with the barrel down. Judging by the characteristic
elements of weapons, the complex is most likely automatic
and has several types of ammunition, which makes it a rather
formidable thing.
Stopping at the very beginning of the room, he quickly looked
at it and, making sure that there was no one else besides me,
he headed in my direction. Damn, if I weren’t almost naked
now, I’d already be reaching for weapons, but in this situation
I could only wait for further developments, because I couldn’t
even get away from here. Moreover, looking at his
movements, I realized that he was far from being the first time
in this armor and had managed to adapt himself perfectly to
the inertia and slight delays in the reaction of the robotic
elements of armor.
“Volper?” coming up to me, he inquired in the voice distorted
by the speakers.
“Yes, it’s me…” succinctly, without even getting up from the
sofa, I replied.
“Um …” - His helmet rose a little and sank down again. - “I
need confirmation that you really are Volper.”
“And how can I confirm this to you?” It seemed to me, or in
his voice began to show up confusion… Although, I do not
dare to assert that the voice distortion is quite strong.
“Uhhhhhhhhhh … Sorry for the arrogance, but could you
reveal the interface with the basic information …? I … I don’t
see any other way … And without confirmation I can’t convey
the load …” in the end, he hesitated altogether, perplexedly

shifting from foot to foot, which in his armor looked
ridiculous.
“Maybe I will also give you all my replications as well?!” The
situation has even started amusing me.

If at the beginning of our short dialogue I didn’t quite
understand what the problem was, now I’m mentally laughing,
rolling on the floor. I completely forgot to check how the
information of mine is shown to others. And judging by my
fight with Ernest, now the courier standing in front of me …
well, or the courier’s guard, sees “Unknown” above my head
in all points. And even my confirmation of the fact that I am
Volper is not enough for a name to appear on me.
And his proposal to open a neural interface is practically
suicide. Although there is such a function, the interface is so
intimate in Alfarome that even the vast majority of married
couples did not see the information from the interface of their
better halves. There is information about absolutely everything
that is in you. No, of course, there is an opportunity to show
reduced information, but nobody uses it, because the main
characteristics are displayed there. Therefore, when they tell
you that a man has a dozen points in force, it remains only to
take his word for it, because you will not be given any
evidence.
By the way, I wonder what he sees now. Just the empty line
instead of the name? Or after my confession that it is me, did
he get a sign with the name, but it says “Unknown”? Damn,
I’m dying of curiosity; I will have to ask around. By the way,
here is the proof of my theory that hiding the name and
information in the logs is a feature of Scurfifers. After all, I
now have absolutely nothing to give such an effect. So, my
preliminary conclusions were absolutely correct.
Well, hiding the name doesn’t help me much now, soon
enough every motherfucker will know about the only Scurfifer
because of this fucking automatic notification. But the
concealment of information about whether I was able to cause

damage or not is a serious advantage. After all, the logs will
not be able to calculate how much damage my armor gets. By
the way, if I arrange my guys as civilians involved, will this
feature apply to them too?
Anyway, what advantages will they get from this? And again,
what will the involvement of civilians or specialists from other
services give me? It is necessary to thoroughly ponder this, but
not now. Now I need to solve the problem with an armored
locker in front of me, which I suspect brought me parts of the
Seraphim kit.
“Contact the client or your superiors, why do you break your
head?”

The fighter was really frozen after hearing such a simple
answer, but it was nonetheless an effective proposal. Or he just
plunged into the interface, sending a message. However, the
option remains that he turned off the external speakers and is
now talking on the radio, trying to get instructions from above.
He froze for about forty seconds, practically not moving. If
you do not know what is inside the person, you might think
that this is an exhibition copy of the ammunition. Only a
barely audible hum of the servers and wires and the ventilation
system indicated that he had not shut down.
“OK!” Suddenly came from the speakers. “My bosses give the
go-ahead for the transfer of cargo.”

Taking a couple of steps back, he took a position near the
second door. And in the passage from which he first appeared,
another body appeared, almost the twin brother of the first. He
took a step to the side, thereby freeing the passage and being
in suspense. A third handsome man squeezed past him - in a

heavy protective spacesuit with an exorbitant backpack, on
which, it seems, there was a repository of things that they
transported.
I do not know how many people they had as guards, but
clearly more people than what I saw. After all, when this socalled “truck” entered the room, another shadow flashed
behind it in the doorway, but the owner of this shadow never
appeared to me. They are serious guys, really, I respect such a
team.
The “truck”, going into the middle of the room, squatted and
rested its hands on the floor in front of itself. The enlarged
compartment on the back opened into two halves, and in the
halo of glow from his back began to crawl out a long weapon
box, the edge of which was picked up by the fighter who had
been talking to me before.
Looks like I’m watching the process of recovery from
miniaturization. The whole process took a few seconds, and
then in the middle of the room there was a one-meter-wide
box, half a meter in height and about three meters in length.
Only the first fighter and I remained in the room, the others,
having completed their task, immediately left the room.
“Sign the electronic delivery protocol.” The voice changed by
the speakers led me out of the pensive looking at the box.

Just now I noticed that the icon of the incoming file is blinking
in my interface. Opening it and quickly running through the
text, I answered in the positive to the request for confirmation
of receipt. After that, I was left alone with this big box.
On my side, in the middle of such a container there was a
round lever for opening with anti-clockwise drawn arrows.
Well, that was in case I don’t figure it out how to open it.
Rising from the couch and coming close to the box, I took the
lever and turned it according to the signs drawn.

With a slight hissing sound of intake air, the lid lifted and
dispersed into four parts, opening access to its insides. From
the inside there was a stand, which, rising above the edge of
the drawer, pulled off a little in my direction and turned at an
angle of forty-five degrees, and then lowered to the very
bottom with the lower edge. Behind it, another similar stand
appeared, hanging a little higher than the first one, as if
continuing it. As a result, there were three of such racks, and
the elements of the “Seraphim” kit were located on them.
But, to my regret, it was not complete. Now, in front of me, I
saw a sleek grayish-steel helmet lay on the top rack, a half
mask was placed just below, which, if desired, could be
connected to the helmet. To the right and to the left lay
submachine guns, similar to massive pistols than their rapidfire counterparts.
On the middle rack there was chest armor and two upper pairs
of wings spread on both sides of the breastplate.
Unfortunately, the three paired elements of armor on the hands
were missing, as was the lower pair of wings. Well, also there
were no glasses in the top set, but I don’t worry about it since I
have a kit and I also have the soul. Anxiously I turned my eyes
to the third lower rack.
The shoes immediately caught my eye, just above them there
was a thin belt with a lot of battery connectors. But at the very
bottom, in the middle, there was a usual backpack, shining like
steel. I am glad that I now have a full set of small arms, except
for shin pads, knee pads and hip protection.
Well, this asshole Christopher! I myself am guilty. Well, I
know very well that a lot depends on the wording, so it turned
out that I fell for the simplest trick. He then said that I would
get all the parts that he now has. So, he does not have the
remaining parts now, but he knows where to get them, since he
promised to give out all the parts at the end of the task.
Here I’m standing, I looking at all this treasure and I feel like a
child who received a birthday present. And from the inside,
the desire came to scream with such a nasty voice, with the
breathing “My precious things” and then gently stroke every
detail of the kit.

Sighing sadly, I put my hand under the lower rack and turned
the locking lever clockwise, activating the closing mechanism
of this drawer. After a few seconds, when the box took the
same shape, I sat down on top, legs dangling on one side, and,
propping my chin with my hand, I began to wait until the
others had finished their shopping spree.
I had to wait for about forty minutes, and then they burst into
the room, laden with all sorts of things. Not only did they
themselves look like freight horses, they were also helped,
because they were not able to physically carry everything on
their own. I just got even sadder. Tilorn first noticed my mood
and instantly, literally with one phrase, turned the attention of
the rest to me.
“Volp!,” he probably shortened my new name for the first
time. “What happened? You don’t seem to be your usual self!”

It seems one short phrase, but almost dead silence was in the
room. And everyone was looking at me. I looked up at them
with the saddest look, from which for some reason Castra even
gasped and hid behind Quartz, only her little face looking out
from behind his shoulder. And Quartz himself quietly turned
to me:
Volper, don’t scare us like that. You were not so sad even
before the duel.”
“You know…” I sighed heavily again, “I am thinking about
how we, with all this stuff…” I circled around with a sweeping
gesture, both my box and their purchases, “are going to move
further.”

Everyone twisted their heads, assessing the size of the problem
that had arisen before us, and their faces right before my eyes

grew sadder and more pensive.
“Irala!” Quartz exclaimed, as if he saw a ring buoy.
“No-no-no, don’t even look at me, my backpack is not
unlimited! Well, and many things having a big size will not go
into it,” she broke off a technician.

Quartz began to express panic on his face. He looked from my
box to his pile of junk and, conversely, to Irala, and clearly did
not know what to do. Irala, by the way, was quite calm about
this — she was the only one who was not burdened with
purchases: either she didn’t take anything or put everything
into her dimensional backpack. And I am most inclined to the
last option. Then Quartz’s face lit up again.
“And we can buy a cheap car! Well, something simple on a
wheelbase.”
“No!!!” Castra and Tilorn said at the same time, and Sargos
nodded very often, pointing at them with his finger, clearly
agreeing with them.

I thoughtfully looked at Quartz. It’s out of the question. I, of
course, understand perfectly well that now I may not be
completely good with my mind and, probably, I am acting
quite rashly, but I just don’t see any other options.
“The truck. The simplest one. What about the money? Sure
you can afford it?” He wanted to immediately assure me that
he was the best driver in the world, but I abruptly put my open
hand in front of him, not allowing him to say anything more.
“Think carefully; we have to drive along the fifth level.”

And then, he really shut his mouth and started thinking, and
then, with his brow furrowed and his lips thinly striped, with
the most serious expression on his face I had ever seen, he
nodded affirmatively, quietly adding:
“I will not fail! And for the price … I’m going to get one for
one hundred thousand, here the prices for such equipment are
low.” Then, apparently, having thought up something, he
added. “But there would be thirty thousand more to modify it,
and to prepare the equipment for the conditions of the fifth
level, but this is when we get to the hangar at the sixth.”

The others were looking at me like a madman, because
everybody saw perfectly how Quartz destroyed the tower
when he was driving. But I try to regard his first driving
experience as unsuccessful, solely because of the
circumstances surrounding us at that time, and not just the
thoughtless recklessness of Quartz.
“Well, deal with that!” I made my decision and threw money
to him.
He almost instantly evaporated, having gone to get us
transport. In the meantime, I decided to clarify a couple of
questions tormenting me.
“Ladies and Gentlemen! I have gathered a lot of questions.
But first and foremost: who knows where on the tenth level you
can rent a room for a couple of days?”

So? I am not a fool to discuss serious topics in a room where
many monitoring devices are clearly installed. As it turned out,
no one was in the know. Well, except for Irala.
“And why am I messing around with you?” - Covering her
face with a hand, she shook her head from side to side.
“Information terminals are installed at almost every
intersection, haven’t you noticed?”
“What kind of terminals are they?” Clever Tilorn asked the
question, and I do not have now to fall into disgrace, if
anything.
“Information ones, damn it!” And Irala behaves more and
more like an ordinary person, and she answers with sarcasm.
“Such small screens,” she drew a square with her fingers,
showing the dimensions.
“Fie you! I thought it was parking terminals.”
“Yeah, and that’s why pedestrians mostly crowd around
them?”
“Let’s put the sarcasm aside,” I decided to interrupt their pick.
“Okay,” she sighed. “In these terminals there are addresses of
all officially registered institutions, the schedule of urban
transport … and a lot of other things …”
“OK, understandable, now we have the following activities to
plan. We get down to the sixth level and look for a hotel not far
from the hangar we are renting. We sort out the equipment that
we have taken with us, and a few more questions… We are
waiting for the three days I need, after which we move to our
home outpost, and from there we immediately descend below.
Any Questions?”

Nobody had any questions. More precisely, they had some, but
so far no one has had courage to ask them. Quartz took about

five minutes to resolve the issue with transport. Appearing
again in the room, he was pleased just like a cat that devoured
sour cream.
“I have found it! The car is waiting for us near the entrance,”
and, pointing at a group of strong guys who entered after him,
he added. “And these guys will load all the things onto our
vehicle.”

The guys quickly grabbed things and moved to the exit, only
with my box there was a small incident: two loaders, attached
to different edges, could barely lift it and immediately put it
back. I had to lose a couple more minutes of waiting for the
first batch of purchases to be taken out, and only then did they
carry my box, six of them together. I did not leave a single step
away from them; somehow my inner stinginess did not allow
me to leave such precious things unattended.
Only one thought how much the contents of this box could
cost on the black market practically made me quiver. No, I do
not even consider the option of selling it, but the chance that
someone decides to expropriate from me all this is very
realistic. I now almost naked and cannot oppose with anything,
should anyone attack me now, but I felt more peaceful in this
way.
Going out and seeing our vehicle, my eye began to twitch
sharply. Well … I suspected that everything was not so simple
- Quartz managed to play hard here, too. In front of us there
was an old jeep with three rows of seats and a large open trunk
at the back, where even eight people could sit. Well, yes, a
slightly long sample of mechanical engineering was obtained,
that is, about six meters, maybe even seven, long. But it was
not this that caught the eye. The whole base was towering high
above the ground, relying on four huge wheels, two meters in
diameter each. Oh no, it was on eight wheels, because they
were installed in pairs. Damn, how are these called? If my

memory doesn’t fail me… Oh, I remembered! “Monster
Truck”.
“Quartz,” I called my guy, being shocked by the car into
which our technician had already got in, using the wheel relief
as a ladder. “Answer only one question: do you have the
complex of inferiority that you decided to get rid of it by
having a car of such a big size? I hope Castra shouldn’t be
afraid of anything?”

CHAPTER THIRTY: WHERE TO GO, WHO TO
BEFRIEND, FOR THIS WORLD TO BLEND IN
It was strange enough but we were going quite calmly, Quartz
drove carefully, sticking to the basic rules on the road, and my
people were just resting, chatting about various trifles. In the
meantime, I was sitting in the back seat, peering at the life
sweeping past me.
“Volper, but why did we leave the place? We should have been
provided with a training ground” Tilorn pulled me out of my
meditative state of mind.
“I don’t want each and every motherfucker to know our
plans!”
“Not understood…”
“Tilorn, you are sometimes like a child: in De-Line’s
surroundings there is a rat, moreover, having a high position
to have access to most of the information.”
“What did you think so?” He asked, and the others were silent,
listening to our conversation.
“There are too many things which are against him as well as
against us, but I do not believe in such coincidences.
Especially when I change plans on the move, and at the same
time the enemy from somewhere knows about my movements,
and moreover, he knows who you are and what goals you are
pursuing.”
“You are hinting at …” Castra began with wide eyes, but I
abruptly interrupted her.
“I do not hint at anything!” - And I gestured for her to shut up
her mouth, and then pointed to her ears, hinting at a possible
wiretap. “I just do not believe in such coincidences, therefore,
I change our plans.”

Then I turned away and looked again at the window. Yes, it is
a little bad behavior, but I still shudder when I remember that
darkness, hopelessness and the desire not peculiar to me to
ignore everything and stop resisting it. If my suspicions are
true, absolutely everything that happens around is revealed in
a completely new context. And I remember that strange
warning of that no less strange grandfather.
It is urgent to look for a protected place to talk with the others,
it’s just impossible to keep them further in the dark, and they
are already looking at me, not understanding many of my
actions. Plus, I cannot let them play; otherwise we can get a
critical situation from which there is no way out, just because
they perceive the situation incorrectly.
In the corner of my view, the envelope was flashing, telling me
that a new letter had arrived. I directed my glance there,
reflecting on the one who could send it to me; I noticed how
the number two appeared on it, showing that there was no
longer one letter, but two. And then a flow of emails came.
Almost in a few seconds, the numbers on the envelope reached
a three-digit number and did not seem to be going to stop.
Moving my eyes to the chat with logs, I read with sadness.
Attention! Auto Alert Requesting Assistance Sent!

It seems that I was bombarded with letters by various clans,
but, maybe, by local organizations too. It means that now it
will be even harder, I am sure that there will be at least a
couple of organizations that, having learned of my existence,
will gladly open up the hunt for me. Rejoiced was I by only
system message in the service chat.
Report: Due to the failure of connection with posts, all
messages sent to the service address are forwarded to you
as to the senior acting officer.

This does not help me deal with the bulk of letters, but it
reassures me that these are redirected letters. There remains a
chance that my name did not become well known. The rest of
our way I was engaged in analyzing letters. As it turned out,
each forwarded letter had a pictogram of a wreath with pistols
crossed inside and a sword pierced downward. There is every
reason to believe that this is the emblem of Scurfifers.
Alas, almost all letters contained invitations to clans, unions,
and organizations, in general, proposals to join them from
different owners of small clans of players who called
themselves differently. Of the forwarded letters, I was
interested in only two.
Sender: Nikolai Anderson
Text of the letter:
Hello! I am really surprised that a Scurfifer re-appeared in
our decaying Alfarome, but at the same time I am very
happy with this event. I will not speak a lot and make a lot
of hints, I will say it straight. I represent the interests of a
certain part of the Psionics, and in this connection I would
like to meet with you to discuss our possible cooperation.
Do not think that I am reckless, you are just currently the
only one with whom there is a chance to talk quietly, given
your neutral status. I am waiting for your decision, tell me
the conditions and place of the meeting, not higher than
the fifth level, otherwise I’m afraid many individuals will
try hard to stop us from speaking calmly. And yes, I almost
forgot, this letter is my private initiative, and not the
official psionic policy.
So now I have to think hard whether it is a trap designed for a
fool, a provocation on the part of some services or indeed a
private initiative. Well, more precisely, I would have wondered
if there was no Sanych, and now I can find out from him

whether there is such a type among the Psionics, and if he
exists, then who he is.
At first, I almost deleted another letter that interested me, like
a bunch of other letters with all sorts of suggestions. After all,
automatic notification seems to have sent information to
absolutely all organizations that have official status. And most
of all the small formations turned out to be among various
trade organizations that instantly reacted and began to
overwhelm me with “Special Offers”, which are just “Only
today and only for you”, promising that they have the best and
most necessary products for Scurfifers at the best prices.
I could have believed these messages if they didn’t offer any
kind of stuff in the form of traveling multicooker, selfretracting underpants and depilation cream. They are not
super-necessary things for divisions of Scurfifers. So these
blokes still put pressure on me by saying that in the case of
bulk purchases over a thousand units, they will make a
discount of a few more percent. So, if you think about the last
letter, it is very different from all the others.
Sender:
Sylvester Vasilyev
Text of the letter:
There is something that will interest you professionally. It
is expensive, without even bargaining!

He seems to be an ordinary shopkeeper, but, re-reading the
text over and over again, I understand that this is not an
advertisement for some low-grade goods. After thinking for a
couple of minutes, I decided to write to him. Having opened
the submission form, I was pleasantly surprised by the
checkmark “Send via service server”, which I immediately
activated.

Recipient: Sylvester Vasilyev
Text of the letter:
Which Level?

Sender: Sylvester Vasilyev
Text of the letter:
The 8th, sector 2-13-07

“Quartz, we need to get to the eighth level, in sector two thirteen - zero seven. Can we go there?”
“Yes, eight or eight and a half hours to get there.”
“Let’s go!”
“And what’s in there?”
“We will correct your mistakes.”
“In terms of?”
“On the spot will understand.”
“Well, okay,” Quartz seemed offended.

OK, you should be patient a little longer, I hope, soon your
insults will disappear. For now it is necessary to finish with
this offer.
Recipient: Sylvester Vasilyev
Text of the letter:
I will be in 14 hours.

When I am there, I will write to you.
Sender: Sylvester Vasilyev
Text of the letter: I am waiting for you.

So, we figured it out, and there is still some time left to think
carefully what to do in order not to fall into the trap, but for
this I need to do a couple more things. The rest of the time we
went in silence, at first, after my harsh replies, the others
didn’t talk, and then Tilorn, Sargos and Castra fell asleep in
their places. I continued to read through the messages and at
the same time decided what direction of development I should
choose.
I ran quickly through the texts with the congratulations of
Sanych and Carefire. The first guy asked me to meet the
deadline within three months in order not to disrupt their
plans. But the second one very strongly asked me to call on
him, and it was desirable that Sanych did not know about it. It
looks strange, but when I will take things from the outpost, I
will definitely go to him. I do not know what kind of games
they have there among themselves, but at least I owe to
Carefire.
So, enough to delay the inevitable, it’s time to make a choice.
Considering that the system messages and logs did not give
me even hints on what path of development was to be chosen,
I will choose based on the name, given that Scurfifers are, in
essence, highly professional fighters with as yet unclear
objectives. Sanych tells one thing, the Server presents another
story, but at the same time, the service systems show a
completely third thing.
But, as I understood from the scraps of information, Scurfifers
are one of the oldest organizations that appeared before the
launch of the Server. It means that, theoretically, it can be
assumed that false information was initially incorporated into
its database in order to hide real tasks for some reason. This is

also indicated by the differences in the presentation of
information from the Server and from the service systems,
which suggests that they have a separate source that does not
report to the Server.
Sanych’s delusions can also be explained very well, although
he participated in their preparation, but for the last couple of
hundred years of the organization’s existence, still he didn’t
find out about the very beginning and, so to speak, their
golden period. It is a real mystery on every corner - I already
have the brain puffed up to unravel the local intrigue, and, of
course, I am trying to unravel only what concerns me directly.
And if you deal with the problem of androids or psionics, then
you can just go crazy with the intrigue.
Hmm … Again I went into thinking a little to the side. So, we
take as the initial information that the Scurfifers were trained
to fight against superior enemy forces with the support of
conventional troops. I’m still more inclined to this
explanation, given their kits, the presence of permanent bases,
repair bases and the like. We have similar assault groups and
paratrooper units for special purposes. They had the ability to
conduct battles in blockade or in long-distance raids without
being supplied.
If you take all of these as starting points in my reasoning, then
the “The Cleaner” are probably the fighters with high
firepower, who, judging by the name, most likely should clean
certain sectors from large enemy clusters. This could be both
highly mobile fighters who had to break into enemy positions
with abrupt raids, as well as artillery that could cover fairly
large areas.
If you follow the same logic, “The Defender” is a heavy
infantry, which, due to the thickness of the armor and, most
likely, the ability to continuously maintain fire contact for
quite a long time, and they had to protect important positions.
It is a far-fetched description, but it is quite an option, at least I
would have done it.
As to the “Keeper”, this does not fit into such a scheme. The
name itself, by its very nature, is practically the same as
“Defender”, but for some reason it was put in a separate

category. There must be a reason for this, but I cannot find an
explanation to this. Well, then we will deduct from the
opposite.
We have three types of troops, and we take conditionally the
territory occupied by the enemy. Some units provide a
breakthrough, but more often than not, these very units cannot
settle there, because their equipment and weapons are
designed for a short but heavy fight. Other units come into
battle, the task of which is to occupy and hold a bridgehead
until the main units and heavy weaponry arrive, giving the
group a chance to break through and help the wounded so that,
if necessary, at an unexpected moment wedge enemy positions
from the flank or rear, using their increased maneuverability.
And then comes the turn of the heavyweights who arrive
together with the main forces and occupy the main defense.
Although there is an option that the breakthrough group is
missing and its function is performed by artillery. But even so,
there is a breakdown into three groups. Based on this, “The
Defender” is in our very last group and definitely does not suit
me. I’m not used to heavy “toys”, and my set is designed for
more mobile operations
Who to choose: “The Cleaner” or ” The Keeper”? I am torn
between these two options; I even opened the menu in front of
my eyes and, looking from one position to another, I could not
decide.
“Irala,” I attracted her attention. “What name do you like
more: The Cleaner or The Keeper?”
“The name for what?” She immediately tried to clarify.
“It does not matter; just say which name you like more.”
“But I must understand what it is about to choose the best
option…”
“Nope!” I interrupted her. “That’s simple, without the initial
data. Now you are almost a human being, so choose based on
what you like most.”

My request shocked her, facial expressions completely
disappeared from her face, and her movements became abrupt
and jerky. It seems that I overloaded her processor with my
request on purpose, so that she transferred additional powers
from body control. I even regretted that I asked this question, I
even opened my mouth with the intention to ask her not to
bother with this question. But she suddenly came to herself
and was as before.
“If I give you the answer according to the randomizer, this will
not be ok for you, will it?” I shook my head, and she smiled at
what was unclear. “Then the Keeper. And do not ask why, I
cannot explain my choice, even to myself, but for some reason
I think that the Keeper sounds more pleasant, promising to
save, protect, not let lose something very important.”
“Wow …” Quartz whistled, not looking up from the road.
“You, Volper, know how to put us in such situations that our
brains completely turn our heads inside out, even Irala was
made thoughtful. Although I thought that she cannot be
unsettled.”
“Do you want to talk about it? Let’s try to discuss your
psychological problems.” I said in the most serious voice,
internally choking with laughter.
“No, no! Anyway, I’m driving and I cannot be distracted!” He
abruptly backed down. Not restraining myself, I laughed quite
frankly.

Having wiped away the tears that came out, I again paid
attention to the choice of the path of development. Well, I
myself do not know what to choose but I will listen to Irala,
and then I mentally select the “Keeper” icon. And,
immediately one after another notifications popped up.

You have chosen the path of development “The Keeper”! It
is available to officers or those who earned more than
50,000 service points. You are credited with 1,000 (one
thousand) service points.

You have completed the professional task “Define your
development path”. Reward: 1 (one) point of professional
skills.

I wonder what service points are. By the way, they began to
appear in the third zone of the “Professions” tab; probably,
they are the starting point from which professional growth also
develops, but there is not enough information on this point.
What opens up to me of the choice of the path? Let’s see. The
choice was between three skills.
“Access to the psionic properties of ammunition”
Requirement:
The path of development “The Keeper”
Limits:
Not available for the Cleaner path with the “Access to
psionic piconite enhancement” effect
Not available for the Defender path with the “Access to
psionic reinforcement ammunition” effect
Description:
It unlocks the ability to use the psionic energy of
specialized kits to activate embedded psionic skills.

“Commander”

Demand:
Any way of development
Limits:
The opening of one of the ways of development
Description:
It allows taking command of two Scurfifers (instead of the
base one) or ten civilians (instead of the basic five).

“Increased skill”
Demand:
The path of development “The Keeper”
Limitations:
Not available for the Cleaner path with the Increased
Reward effect.
Unavailable for the Defender with Increased Security
effect
Description:
Increased service points by 10%

It is far from an unequivocal choice - a point is one thing, but I
want all the three skills. Although now it became clear why
there is no information about the skills of the profession. If I
were not the only Scurfifer, it would seem that I could not
open the path of development for a very long time. Damn, I
just finished making my difficult choice with the path of
development, and now I again have to decide. My brain cannot
think properly. Having settled down comfortably on the seat, I
decided to take a nap, hoping that after sleeping my brain
would work better, and I would be able to choose what I
needed at that moment. Almost immediately I fell asleep.

“Volper,” Castra’s voice snatched me from my slumber. “We
are almost there.”

Rubbing my face with my palms, coming to senses, I looked
around me through the window of the car. Well, the streets,
buildings … And what am I trying to look out for? Stop! What
a stupid guy I am, my development paths have not
disappeared, but I didn’t even try to read the description
without fear of accidentally activating the wrong thing. So,
what do we have here? And we have a complete flop here!
Well, at least I tried…
“Quartz, stop the car near that terminal,” I bent forward and
pointed to the terminal I needed through the windshield. “I
warn you at the start, now I’ll need you to quickly carry out
my commands, no matter how stupid they can be. If everything
goes well, I’ll explain within an hour. OK?”

In response, I got surprised looks and nods of heads,
confirming that everything is clear to everyone. As soon as the
car stopped, I began to distribute commands.
“Irala, you are to quickly get a list of stores with weapons and
ammunition. In particular, those second hand shops.”

As I expected, she jumped out of the car with no questions
asked and found herself near the terminal in a couple of steps,
starting to work on it. Five seconds, during which I quickly
imagined the plan of action in my mind and accepted it as a
good one, and Irala did everything and jumped back into the

car. To my questioning look, she shrugged and answered
calmly:
“I established a wireless connection, the signal here is rather
weak, but I have a stable signal for about a kilometer and a
half.”
“Quartz, drive slowly, you should not stand still more than
necessary.”

While Irala was looking up the needed information, and
Quartz was driving slowly along streets, making all sorts of
zigzags, not moving away from the designated radius, I went
back to the interface, because the idea that I had about the old
tabs which could easily be changed as well. To my shame, I
turned out to be right, I have expanded the functionality of the
neural interface much more strongly. And what’s more, several
settings immediately came to my eyes, according to them I
could now turn on and off the concealment of information
about myself, as well as display the Scurfifer icon, titles,
belonging to a division … zones with sending to all users of
the neural interface in this zone an alarm message about urgent
evacuation.
“It’s done,” she distracted me from looking through new
menus and buttons. “I’ve sent you a list of good places within
a radius of twenty kilometers.”
“Thank you,” I said to her.

Turning on the display of information about me, I began to
view the coordinates. She found out not only where the stores
of interest to me are, but also prepared a rating of them,
according to customer reviews. I was interested in one shop,
whose customers were always unhappy with the way the

owner of a place does his business. But at the same time, for
some reason, this place was with a fairly high attendance
rating. I hope I guessed the reason, otherwise I will have to
look for another store, and this is a waste of extra time.
- “Quartz, drive fast according these coordinates,” I sent him
the data. “ Irala, quickly empty your bag… and completely.
Throw all unnecessary things in the trunk. In the backpack, put
only my Seraphim set, but only this.”

She raised her eyebrows and stared at me, but literally a
second later, with a shrug of her shoulders, she began to fulfill
my commands.
“Well, the others, except for Quartz, will now perform a
striptease show! You are to take off absolutely everything,
except for underpants and T-shirts. Quartz, when we arrive,
while I am talking to someone, do the same, and according to
my signal we get off the car.”
“Volper, what are you doing?” Castra was in shock, but I did
not let her continue.
“DO IT FAST, AS I SAID! No time to discuss.”

In about five minutes we were near the store which I chose,
and I jumped out of the car and immediately went to an almost
empty shop. Having found the store owner, - well, at least I
thought that he was the owner, considering that he was at the
table connected with the shop window, - so with a quick step I
approached him and in the most impudent manner said to him:
“I was sent here to sell goods in high demand, so let’s go
quickly into the street: you evaluate them, you pay and you sell

to others.”

There was a shock in his eyes just for a second and then his
look becomes sharply angry, and he almost breaks down to
scream, almost spitting with his saliva at me.
“Are you completely nuts? Why do you bring here freshly
looted things? Go to hell with such a setup, I’m not going to
take the consequences for you!”

Oh … I was relieved since I was very afraid to make a
mistake. But after all, if I think logically - what could be a
high attendance for a disgusting service? That’s right, a
specialized shop for selected circle of people, and given that
everyone has access here, then, most likely, a cover up for an
illegal business. A lot of smugglers and sellers of loot got
caught on this stuff.
“Do not grumble! The product is really hot, but without any
illegal action. You will not be jailed, I can swear by the
Server.”

He stared at me for a few seconds, but finally, with a sigh, he
agreed to look at the goods. Coming out of the store, with a
gesture I gave the order to the others to unload the stuff,
allowing the merchant to fully inspect the goods. I had to
almost forcefully hush the members of my team who were
trying to object. But everything worked out well, and the
merchant took all our things with the car, though, for a penny,
without giving, it seems, a tenth of the real price. But then we
bought ordinary civilian clothes from him.

Having walked a couple of kilometers from the store,
constantly changing the route, we stopped in a small alley and
I turned to the others. All except for Irala were darker than a
rainy cloud and looked at me with misunderstanding, and
some of our guys were really offended.
“I stopped here to give you just a couple of words to clarify my
latest actions.”
“It would be to the point,” as always, Quartz grunted,
unrestrained in his speech.
“And you would have to think first, before spending all the
money in the store of one of the powers in this world.”
“What do you mean?” asked Tilorn, not allowing Quartz to
blurt out something else.
“I mean it. To what extent do we take safety measures in any
serious conversation: when moving, when going on raids?!
And then what? You went to the toy store for adults and do not
even check things for bugs and other things? You didn’t think
that something was set up when I was almost killed a couple of
days ago! And right before that, they tried to capture us. Want
to repeat that?”

With each of my words, their faces first showed
understanding, and then abruptly began to turn into shame.
“Volper, well, you … forgive me … I really didn’t think.”
Stammered Quartz, without looking at me.
“Yeah, ok, fuck with it, everyone screws up, it’s just a pity that
so much money was pissed,” I calmed down. “Okay, let’s
move on, we still need to find some kind of shelter house, at
least for a couple of hours.”

I didn’t have to look for a hotel for a long time, fifteen minutes
was enough. Already in the room we had rented, I asked
Quartz and Irala to check for wiretapping.
“Everything is clean,” said Irala ten minutes later. “No extra
signals were detected.”
“Quartz, what do you say?” I turned my eyes on our
technician.
“Having quickly checked for extra elements I did not find any,
in theory, everything is clean, but there is always a chance that
I simply have not enough skills. Although I doubt that they will
put serious equipment in such a shithole,” he reported.
“Okay,” after a couple of seconds of weighing the pros and
cons, I made the final decision. “We’ll risk and have a little
heart-to-heart talk. The server is still up to date with
everything that is happening here, and it is rather indifferent
to this. Tilorn, come on, you must be the first. And judging by
your reaction, when I almost died in that duel, you had very
similar thoughts to mine.”

Tilorn, who was sitting on the couch, threw his hands behind
his head and, leaning back, stared at the ceiling. He sighed
heavily and, without changing his posture, glanced at the
others, after which he closed his eyes and began to speak.
“You can think that I went insane, but it seems to me that we
are not in the game. Initially, I thought for a detailed
elaboration of the gaming world, even found a couple of
moments that, besides game conventions, could not be
explained in another way…” he paused for a couple of
seconds and continued in a tired voice. “Until the moment
when Irala appeared in our team.”
“And what have I got to do with it?” She was quite surprised.

“Irala, you are not to blame, you just gave us thoughts to a
deeper investigation. The main reason was the complete lack
of a looped behavior algorithm and restrictive triggers. Even if
we do not take into account that our scientists and
programmers have so far failed to achieve such an effect, then
at least for miscalculations of your behavior and reaction to
certain events, you need to allocate the power of a separate
power capacities with a huge prescribed base of behavioral
models considering almost all potential situations and
stimuli.”
“But I still exist,” she pouted.
“Yeah. And how much power does it take you to move, mimic,
analyze the correctness of the reaction, fine motor skills and
all the rest of the stuff?”
“Um …” she cast her eyesight at us, but in the end, having
lowered her eyes, she confessed. “Ninety-three percent of
computing power goes to a complete human imitation.”
“You see! Add to this the fact that you are still self-learning,
and you also have access to huge databases, while studying
human data for a lot of years. Now look at the situation from
the other side. How many locals are there? I mean those whom
are considered NPCs, that means non-player characters in the
game. Only in the outpost, we meet daily a few hundred. And
everyone shows emotions and facial expressions, if not worse
than Irala’s. Now we will try at least to imagine what
computational power is needed for this.”
“Fucking shit!” Quartz could not stand it. “Yes, such a fucking
big server on the planet will be needed.”
Well, to be more precise, according to approximate estimates,
you need a server center the size of the moon.
“The moon?” Irala did not understand us.
“Do not pay attention, this is a natural satellite of our planet,
it’ll take a long time to explain. If you wish, I will tell you
later,” I decided to temper her informational interest a little.
“Tilorn, go ahead. As I understand it, it was not all?”

“And if you analyze the local genetics and biological
processes in detail, your hair stands like a mountain,” he
continued. - Of course, there are options that they have
already developed super-power artificial intelligence, but, I
think, only the military can have such things…”
“They don’t have that, I’d know then.” I shook my head.
“Moreover, there are other oddities that you ignored.”

And I told the others everything. His suspicions,
communication with Andrei, even Alona was mentioned that
brought them into complete standstill, even Tilorn was sitting
shocked.
“So, we are going to rest for a couple of hours, then buy cheap
weapons on the money we have. We go to a meeting with
another merchant, although an ambush can wait for us there,
and we begin the descent to the fifth level, to our native land.”
I finished my talking.
“We completely stuck in here!” Without a hitch said Sargos.
“And in our world now we would celebrate the New Year
now.” Castra sighed.
“Well, we will break through.” I smiled at them, feeling that
after my revelations, my confidence only grew stronger. “And
now we should rest, and then we will prepare to shake this
world to its very foundation.”

From Author:
Dear reader, since you have reached this place, then you
most likely liked the book. I would like to ask you to take
another couple of minutes and write a review on the book.
Every feedback is very important to me, because only on

them can I focus on how many readers like the book. Thank
you in advance.

The End of the Second Book!
But it’s not the end of the story.

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