Hong Kong. January 25, 2024, two weeks ago
“SO, YOU’RE SAYING that… Get down!”
Sulu leapt, knocking Saud down, and a second later, bullets streaked through the cafe, cutting down random visitors. The African man stayed down and flipped over a table, creating an improvised barricade that at least hid them from anyone watching. The Sense of Danger hadn’t let him down, but it wouldn’t stop buzzing either.
“Shaitan!” Saud swore. “They’ve come for us!”
“Over there! Behind the columns.”
No explanation was needed, and the Arab man rushed behind one of the few objects in the room that could withstand a bullet. The columns were too narrow for more than one person to hide behind them, so Sulu rushed in the opposite direction, kicking a Chinese man out of the way. Their leap didn’t go unnoticed, bullets whistled from all directions. Several volleys struck the frozen man, killing him at once. Sulu glanced to the right, making sure that his partner had reached his target unharmed, and mechanically wiped blood off his cheek. Someone else’s blood. They’d have to doctor the camera recordings.
“Come on, deal with them already.” A steel axe appeared in Sulu’s hand. “What are you waiting for?”
“They’re too far away, I can’t reach them…”
The bag was with him, so they weren’t unarmed, but engaging in a firefight with such a density of fire didn’t seem worth it. Waiting for a moment when the chill of foreboding weakened, Sulu leaned out to assess the situation. Seven men in coats and black glasses, machine guns clutched in their hands, were striding openly towards them. Type 95? A powerful toy. They were saved by the fact that the “mafia” had started shooting from some distance away, apparently reluctant to approach the players. Or knowing that they couldn’t sneak such toys past the guards.
Several Secret Service officers, who had been looking after the distinguished guests, tried firing back and even shot one of the attackers, but only gave themselves away and met an unfortunate end. The killers were too heavily armed and appeared to be wearing bulletproof vests. Which ultimately wouldn’t help them.
“They’re close. I’ll take the three on the left. Can you handle the ones on the right?” Watch out!”
Several grenades rolled between the columns, but the machine guns abruptly fell silent. It could have been a trap or reloading, but the chilling cold indicating imminent death abruptly disappeared. The grenades wouldn’t explode either. It would be stupid to live in a world full of explosives and not acquire a skill that could block their action, even if for a short time and within a limited radius.
“We don’t have long.” Saud was the first to come out from behind the column, taking out his saber. “I don’t think we need all of them. Will you take a couple captive?”
“No need to hold back. Let’s go!” The butt of an axe was perfect for keeping an opponent alive: break his arms, then his legs, and a person wouldn’t not be able to fight or run away. The key was not to hit them on the head.
The killers backed away, one kept pressing the trigger, but the axe broke his shoulder, making him fall unconscious. The second tried to hit Sulu with the butt of his gun, but was struck across the fingers, and then on the head. Perhaps the African man overdid it, turning his enemy’s face into a bloody mess. But they were talking about two prisoners, weren’t they? The last one tried to block with the machine gun, but the blow was so strong that it tore the weapon out of his hands. Sulu went to town on him, breaking not only both hands, but also the kneecaps.
“Are you done?”
When it came to killing, the saber was, if not more effective, then much bloodier. Saud chopped fingers, limbs, and then necks without hesitation, not wanting to waste time on first aid. Against two masters, the attackers didn’t stand a chance.
“I see you took a prisoner too?”
“He was shot by security. Take the grenades they threw, otherwise they’ll explode soon. And all of you — get out while you still can!”
The surviving visitors and employees weren’t going to linger anyway — at least those who could still walk or who hadn’t lost someone close to them. There were at least ten corpses lying around. The wounded man tried to crawl away, but Saud caught up with him and turned him over on his back. The sunglasses flew off to reveal that even if the man wasn’t Chinese, he was certainly Asian.
“Who sent you? Can you understand me?”
The change in language didn’t make the prisoner more talkative. Saud jabbed him in the stomach with the saber and listened to the swearing. People tended to drop all pretense and speak their native language at such moments.
“So, Chinese after all. I just wanted to check. Do you want to live?”
“Drop dead!”
Saud raised his saber, but didn’t strike — after all, why deprive the enemy of the opportunity to die in agony? The saber disappeared, returning to the card hidden in his sleeve. He had even bought a Card Shark skill from Sulu to make the cards easier to manipulate.
“Are you done with him yet? I can sense approaching danger.”
“The police? Or…”
Saud bent down and flicked open the Chinese man’s raincoat, revealing not armor, but an explosive vest. There was a great deal of explosives. They could try to put the bodies in the bags, but all the killers were wearing such vests, and his skill would run out in ten seconds at most.
“Let’s go! Right now!”
Sulu followed without hesitation, but not all the survivors managed to leave the cafe before a powerful explosion took place inside. Whoever the killers were, they took care to hide their tracks, and the resulting fire made everything even more complicated. Nevertheless, the first assassination attempt had failed.
* * *
The second was more successful. A few minutes later, a diplomatic plane of the Russian Federation disappeared off the radar. A search and rescue operation was announced, but everyone understood that the chance of finding any passengers and crew members alive was miniscule.
* * *
Paris. January 25.
Elle sort de son lit, tellement sûre d’elle,
La Seine, la Seine, la Seine.
Tellement jolie, elle m’ensorcelle,
La Seine, la Seine, la Seine.
(She overflows her banks, so confident,
The Seine, the Seine, the Seine.
So beautiful, bewitching me,
The Seine, the Seine, the Seine.)
The song coming from the speakers was charming, but right now, Dmitry wasn’t aware of it at all. News about the assassination attempt on the other leaders came while they were in flight, so security measures had been strengthened. Four security cars and ten motorcyclists were added to the motorcade, and the route was changed to one of the reserve ones. The EU government took care of their people.
“Do you think we’ll be attacked too?” Diva asked.
“Both attempts happened in Hong Kong,” Dmitry replied. “It’s unlikely that they can reach us in France. We’re just being extra careful.”
Je ne sais, ne sais, ne sais pas pourquoi,
On s’aime comme ça, la Seine et moi.
Je ne sais, ne sais, ne sais pas pourquoi,
On s’aime comme ça la seine et moi.
(I don’t know, don’t know, don’t know why
We love each other so much, the Seine and I.
I don’t know, don’t know, don’t know why
We love each other so much, the Seine and I.)
“One can never be too careful. I’m sorry about what happened to… sorry.”
“Vasily might still be alive. If anyone could have survived the crash, it’s him.”
The car drove onto the bridge over the very same Seine. A majestic, but far from clean river, despite all the efforts undertaken.
“Of course. Hera asked not to be disturbed unless necessary, but I can ask. Given his status, the goddess may know what happened.”
“Good idea. Hey, what are you doing?”
The armored car swerved sharply, smashed through the railing, and flew off the bridge and into the river. Given the height and speed, the passengers barely stood a chance. The car didn’t stay on the surface, dropping to the bottom like a stone.
“April! Wake up! Ah, shit.”
The driver died instantly, which was obvious from his broken neck. Did he not buckle up on purpose? Diva was alive but unconscious and didn’t look like she would come around anytime soon. Dmitry didn’t feel so great himself — his arm hung uselessly by his side, and his chest hurt. Regeneration was working slowly, but he was unlikely to recover in the remaining few minutes. What mattered now was getting out of the car, which was strong but far from watertight.
L’air est si bon,
Cet air si pur,
Je le respire,
Nos reflets perchés sur ce pont.
(The air is so good,
So pure,
I breathe it in,
Our reflections perched on this bridge.)
The radio wouldn’t shut up, showing that the engine was also working by some miracle. Dmitry clambered into the driver’s seat with difficulty. Damn these electronics. Unlocking the doors wouldn’t help, since the water pressure wouldn’t let them open, but the glass…
The windows refused to go down. Something must have jammed. There was still air in the car, but waiting was pointless. There were no divers among the guards, and the rescuers wouldn’t reach them in time. Why didn’t he have Underwater Breathing? Or at least a strong skill to cut a path to salvation.
Cursing once again, he lifted Diva higher so she wouldn’t drown and took out a machine gun, discharging the whole clip into the windshield. Even covered in a spiderweb of cracks, it bent slightly, but refused to shatter. Except the water started flowing faster. Dmitry strongly doubted that he would be able to shoot underwater. He made one last attempt.
On s’aime comme ça, la Seine et moi.
(We love each other so much, the Seine and I.)
The song ended and the radio stalled, along with the car engine. It became dark, and with the darkness came the realization of the nightmare they’d landed in. They both had a saving skill that would resurrect them in the same spot. At the bottom of the river, in a flooded car. Shit, shit, shit.
Dmitry released the woman, letting her disappear under the water, and raised the machine gun again, holding it close to roof. A new volley rang out…
* * *
An hour later, the altar in the Temple of Hera lit up, and a woman’s naked body appeared beside it. Diva rolled over, gasping for air, then raised herself up on her elbow to look around.
“Where am I? I dreamed that… Leon?”
“Mistress Hera told me about the incident. I have brought you some clothes.”
“Me?” Diva dropped her hands, not bothering to cover herself. After what she had seen and experienced, there was no place for false modesty. “Did I die?”
Diva closed her eyes, checking the logs. She had died, twice actually… but the details were blurry.
“What happened?”
“The driver lost control of the car on a wet road. The car fell into the river.”
“Lost control?” The priestess repeated, and memories seemed to burst through a barrier. A blow, flying through the air, and an even stronger blow. Water filling her lungs, and no way to get out. A familiar face before her eyes. “What about Dmitry?”
“I… I don’t know for sure. The car hasn’t being lifted out yet, and divers are working there now.”
* * *
Japan, Sapporo. January 26
“You’re so cool,” a sweet voice said on the left. “So, what are your abilities?”
“Don’t you watch the news?” an equally sweet voice, this time on the right, didn’t let him answer. “This is Ryuu himself, the River Serpent!”
Sakura grasped the guy’s arm, pressing her breasts against him. Her impressively large breasts. Her rival Mikki was no less persistent, pressing against Ryuu on the other side and not letting the blushing guy escape. Not that he was really planning to.
“I just want to know more about him. If you’re not interested, you can go for a walk.”
Ryuu struggled to understood what the girls were saying, focused as he was on the sensations. He, who had fought monsters and had been close to death more than once, was scared now. However, the apprehension was mixed with the anticipation of something new and wonderful.
“Hey, you have an apartment, right?”
“Shall we go to my place?” Ryuu asked automatically. “The three of us?”
“You’re such a pervert, little brother.”
“I…”
“I’m kidding. I’m sure my sister and I can share you.”
Sakura threw a burning look at her rival, but Mikki had no intention of backing down.
“Of course, old woman. You ought to look for an older guy, at your age.”
“Hey, I’m only twenty-three!”
Oh, kami! He could lose his virginity tonight, with two beautiful students at the same time. His mind drew alluring pictures, covered with the censorship pixels familiar to every normal guy. However, like any guy, he could imagine what hid behind the pixels, even without any real-world experience.
“I’ll call us a taxi, okay?”
Was it too good to be true? Glancing from one beautiful face to the other, he couldn’t decide which of them had come to take his life. Therefore, darts pierced both necks, and the slumped bodies were loaded into the taxi.
“Great work, Ryuu.”
“Thank you, Inspector.” Ryuu looked regretfully at the legs of the girl being placed on the back seat. “By the way, do you know a good brothel nearby?”
“Brothels are illegal,” the man replied, taking out a cigarette.
The official ban didn’t stop these establishments from operating quite openly. Directories with addresses were sold on every street corner. But refugees had poured into Hokkaido after the Tokyo Disaster, and these places had become unsafe.
“So is smoking on the street, Inspector. Well?”
...Sakura died in the car without ever regaining consciousness, and the interrogation of her rival yielded nothing. The girl just wanted to sleep with a real shinigami, marry him, and inherit a fortune when he was killed by the monsters. Somewhat cynical, but not punishable by law.
* * *
Italy, Genoa. January 27
Marcus wasn’t afraid of death, yet he also dreamed of living to a ripe old age and dying surrounded by his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Things hadn’t worked out with his wife, but once he became a player, he made sure that he had plenty of mistresses. And offspring, naturally.
When you take risks every day, you have to reach your goal in the shortest possible way, without wasting yourself on empty regrets. But if his initial chances of survival were minimal, they had grown considerably now. With any luck, he would live to see his great-grandchildren. Unless they got to him first, of course. There had already been four attempts, so there was bound to be a fifth, right? It would be nice to know who was behind all this.
“Everything’s fine,” said the voice in his ear. “Do you see anything odd?”
Marcus sighed heavily and remained silent. He was highly skeptical about the police in his native country, and even being protected by the best of the best did little to reassure him. He could only hope that they would do their job properly this time.
“The usual, Marco?”
“Of course, Senora Giudice,” the man smiled. The sweaty shirt stuck to his back, although he attributed this to the heat rather than the constant expectation of getting shot. “Your doughnuts are almost as beautiful as you are.”
“You’re such a flatterer, boy. I’m old enough to be your mother.”
“Don’t exaggerate, you’re still young.”
Biting into the doughnut, Marcus quickened his pace in a hurry to get away. The killers didn’t care about collateral damage, and he didn’t want an old acquaintance to suffer.
The familiar trip passed without incident, and the dozen hidden rapid response teams didn’t come in useful. Two hours later, he died at home from acute food poisoning before the ambulance arrived. The symptoms developed extremely rapidly, while Backup only prolonged the agony for another five seconds. The source of the poison was found on autopsy, but by this time, the doughnut seller had disappeared without a trace. There was no second miraculous resurrection in the temple of Hera.
* * *
England, London. January 28
The truck turned sharply, aiming at a group of people on the sidewalk. Time seemed to slow down, and Lisa closed her eyes. She had no time to dodge. When she opened them a fraction of a second later, she was on the other side of the street.
Teleportation allowed her to escape death. The truck sped by, flinging and crushing people, and then crashed into the wall. The impact was so strong that the driver died instantly. The press called it an accident, but in the evening, a little-known terrorist group took responsibility for the incident. All the worse for them.
* * *
Somewhere in Germany. January 29
Alexander fell and felt his mind floating away. A bloodstain was spreading on his chest where the bullet had pierced his bulletproof vest. Had they come for him today then? The bodyguards rushed forward to cover him with their bodies, but they only got in the way.
“A sniper! There’s a sniper!”
The ground parted, cracking open the asphalt and taking him into its arms. Deeper, deeper… Explosive Regeneration. He didn’t want to die, but the skill wasn’t managing, so he didn’t rise back up. Death occurred a few minutes later, and after another second, the wound was healed. The German man opened his eyes and jerked, struggling to control his panic. There was plenty of air, and although he was underground, he could climb out at any moment. He wasn’t buried alive.
It was the Second Chance skill that all the priests had received. He planned to bestow it on other worthy players. Not all of them. Earth had only recently entered the System, so there were many rare cards on the list, which had limits. Not all of them could be copied…
Alexander closed his eyes, controlling his breathing. All he had to do now was wait.
The ensuing report explained that the sniper didn’t even try to escape, but carefully placed the rifle down and threw himself off the roof. Perhaps he wanted to make identification more difficult, but there were too many cameras in the modern world. Three hours later, the deceased was identified as a GSG 9 officer. A man with an impeccable reputation who had given twenty years of life to the service. Was he someone’s secret agent? There was simply no other reason why he would commit such a crime, but Alexander wasn’t happy with this explanation.
* * *
India, Temple of Shiva. January 29
The Brahmin stood on a platform; a crowd of followers assembled before him. His fame grew day by day: most considered him a new Saint, a guide to the will of their god. Hinduism was one of the largest religions on the planet. The priest held great power in his hand, and he knew how to use it.
“Welcome, brothers. You have come here to give thanks to our patron, but not everyone here has pure intention. Four of you wish to kill me, the voice of Shiva. You there, why did you come?”
“I’m not...” The man hesitated for a few seconds, and then began to speak. “You’re not a real priest! You want to deceive us!”
A gun appeared in the fanatic’s hand, but his neighbors immediately attacked him, and the bullet went wide. However, if the Brahmin was afraid of a single shot, he wouldn’t be standing in front of a crowd. Here, before the temple, he was protected by Shiva himself, with invisible armor like the one worn by the monsters.
“Tie him up and bring him to me. As well that one, that one, and that one.”
His finger unerringly pointed out three people in the crowd, but the finger is not a very accurate pointer. Around thirty people ended up tied up and beaten. The murderers were among them, but they bit off their tongues and choked on their own blood.
* * *
Somewhere in China. February 2
“This is the Chairman’s order. We care about your safety, Professor.”
Qing Long moved his knight to threaten his opponent’s rook. Chess wasn’t the most popular activity nowadays, but it kept your mind sharp and served as a good backdrop for conversation. At least that’s what tradition said.
“I appreciate this, but it doesn’t make sense. It’s been a week since the first attempt. How many of our plans have gone to waste? If an attempt hasn’t occurred yet, then it won’t happen.”
The opponent protected the rook with a pawn, but Long took it anyway. Perhaps it wasn’t the best exchange, but the conversation was far from over, so he wanted to give his opponent hope. If not hope for a win, then at least a draw.
“Do you think it’s a provocation?” His handler took the offered knight.
“Two attempts occurred in our area of responsibility, involving Chinese people. I think you understand as well as I do how this affects the prestige of our motherland.”
Qing Long moved a pawn. He didn’t ask whether the special services were involved in these events. Some questions were better left unasked, even if you knew the answer in advance. Especially if you were sure of it.
“Perhaps we should organize an attempt ourselves?”
“A bad idea,” Qing Long replied. “If I survive, it won’t look convincing. They didn’t touch the American either, did they? Check.”
“According to our information, no, but he is very well guarded.” The other man moved the bishop. “Maybe they simply couldn’t get close enough.”
“Are you serious? The American president was killed once upon a time, and our enemy is very well prepared. Whoever they are…”
“Do you think it’s the Americans?”
“I very much doubt it. I won’t be surprised if they think it’s us. I won’t make any guesses until I have some facts. And getting facts is your job.”
“We’re doing our job. Not a single accusation has been made yet. Even the Russian side has accepted our official condolences and agreed to a joint investigation. We haven’t found the black boxes yet.”
“Guan Yu says that there is a high chance that Vasily is alive.”
It was also possible that the player’s soul was locked inside the phylactery in his personal room. In that case, he would never return to this world. Which would be a shame.
“I’m not doing so well today. How about a draw?”
“Of course,” Qing Long smiled, “Good game, Mr. Wang.”
Five more moves and he could have given check. For the fourth time in this game, but it wasn’t always wise to defeat an opponent, sometimes, it was more useful to let him save face. This was where the real victory lay. Even if the handler was good at chess, he had a long way to go to beat the priest.
* * *
USA, February 5
For the past ten days, following the recommendations of the Secret Service, Bill Michigan left the base only for missions. He spent most of the time training. The battle for the Altar was drawing closer, so he had to remain on alert if he ever wanted to see his daughters again.
He had seen the girls only three times in this whole time, and he didn’t even know where they were right now. He only knew that they were safe, looked after by agents posing as their family. The player status was a threat in itself, while the assassination attempts had forced him to stay away from everyone dear to him. He had tried drinking, but the skills removed the whiskey from his body awfully quickly.
“To hell with it…”
Apparently, the guys betting on how exactly the attempt on his life would be made had been wrong. It didn’t matter who was behind the assassination attempts, they obviously wouldn’t come here. Practice has also shown that it was very, very difficult to kill a player at his level. He had taken into account the attempts on other players, acquiring skills that would help his survival. He needed to...
Attention! Multiple incursions registered in your world!
* * *
Odin, the god of war and victory, watched the countless monsters approaching Earth. The wave was truly enormous this time, surpassing the previous ones several times over. Making any attempt to stop the creatures on the Outer Battlefield pointless. Had the enemies decided to simply overwhelm them with sheer numbers?
After whispering a message, Odin waved his spear, cutting a hole through space, and stepped through it. Almost at the same time as the other six. A group of enemy gods hung in the distance, showing that they wouldn’t permit direct interference. A tacit non-intervention pact that neither side would risk breaking. The risks were too great, and the stakes were too high.
“We will take revenge later,” Guan Yu voiced everyone’s thoughts. “Warn the players…”
For now, they could only watch as hundreds of thousands of monsters approached Earth. Their divine protection wouldn’t last long, which meant that nothing terrible would happen. Sooner or later, the humans would kill most, if not all, of the creatures. The players wouldn’t even need to get involved as the military could take care of it. Perhaps millions would die, but the worthy ones would die in battle, and Quel could worry about the cowards. Or Hera, for lack of other women in their ranks.
The players were another matter. The signal from the goblin world was still unstable, but gradually grew stronger. The battle drew near, and if they failed a third time, they were unlikely to get a fourth attempt. The gods would fall, and their world would be plunged into darkness forever. Or, as his other half would say, serve as raw material for the stronger…
This certainly wasn’t how he had imagined Ragnarök.