Syndicate Slayer Read online

  “Little damage. All is good.”

  “Not if you keep standing like a wax figure,” Rokkit said.

  The robot-arms of the mech suit roared like a locomotive. The restrictive space inside the courtyard limited our evasion maneuvers, which the mechgineer used to his advantage. I ditched the spiker mines for explosives. My new plan: plant my most explosive mines, taunt the boss, and make him trip on my mine field. Wait for the stagger or stun effect, unleash my BlitzBlade, and attack his back to free Grezz.

  Rokkit yelled across the courtyard. “Boltzy.”

  I updated my team players and placed the mines in my pattern. Told Rokkit to taunt the boss to come my way, which he did. The mechgineer ignored the mines on the ground and stomped over them. Explosions all around us, chopping off healthy damage from the boss. But no stagger effect whatsoever. His armor suit regained balance, stretching the giant iron legs. Grezz pounded her container from the inside, producing dull sounds.

  “Hold on, we’re going to get you out,” I said.

  Since she counted as an NPC, I couldn’t use the team channel.

  “Warning,” L’ocean said. “His pattern is changing.”

  The armor suit stretched his claw-arms and span around, going for a whirlwind attack. Jeez. If that thing was going to hit me, my HPs would hit zero in no time.

  The armor whooshed around and hit the supporting columns of the ceiling of the courtyard upper levels. He was battering his own outpost.

  L’ocean came to my aid and brought my health back in the green.

  “Don’t stop healing.”

  “You’re my guardian angel.”

  “Stop talking and start fighting.”

  The attack must have drained the mechgineer’s Reepo-resources, because he hunkered down next to the broken pillar. The mechanical gear on his suit pulsated with energy.

  “Now’s the time for a team attack,” Rokkit said, echoing my thoughts.

  Together, all four of us assaulted the mechgineer. Yumi-D’s fired her armor-piercing arrows, Rokkit unleashed his engine blade impacts while I electro-slashed with my BlitzBlade. The combined arms assault brought down his health to about half.

  The engineer pilot inside the heavy suit yelped. “Get off me, you freeloaders. This suit doesn’t belong to me.”

  “Free Grezz and we’ll leave you alone,” I said, sensing a bargaining chance.

  The pilot kept quiet, as if he pondered my suggestion.

  “Nice try, rebel scum, but when I’m bringing that beast back to base, I’ll get rewarded with more money than you’ll ever make.”

  His armor straightened. We all jumped off and distanced ourselves from the raging machine. As long as Grezz was still alive in that container cell on the Mechgineer’s back, we were okay. But of course, the game mechanics pushed us to the limit. The mechgineer changed his attack pattern and ranted on. “If I bring you back to base, I’ll be a Syndicate hero. And do you know what that means?”

  “Who cares,” Rokkit said.

  “Employee of the year award. Massive bonuses included.”

  Our team exchanged confused glances. We were fighting a battle for survival and he was eying employer bonuses. Looked like the Reepo had gotten to his brain.

  L’ocean pointed toward the other side of the courtyard. “Look.”

  The mechgineer aimed for the pillars of the outpost. His gloved hands grabbed the anchor points of the surface and pulled. The structure shook. Dust pebbles fell from the upper floors.

  Rokkit moaned. “To hell with the experience points. We have to get out of here.”

  Yumi-D waved her no-go sign. “Grezz is still imprisoned, and we can’t solve the quest without her.”

  “She’s right. The chieftain will eat us alive if we return without Grezz.”

  “Goddamnit. Thanks for your quest, Boltzmann.”

  “Now I’m the bad guy?”

  L’ocean interrupted with a nervous cough. “You guys, uh, the battle is still on?”

  “Okay, let’s go safe and smart, Boltzmann. I go taunt and tank, you chainlink him then go spider mine on that mofo.”

  “Couldn’t have said any better.”

  “Of course you couldn’t.”

  We swarmed out. The mech pilot took down one pillar, causing the upper floor of the east wing to crumble and every corpse below him. Rokkit switched to his pike, unleashed a few jabs to poke him. When he turned around to hit the Lancer, I snuck up and placed mines around him. L’ocean stayed close to me and buffed me up. But instead of going down on Rokkit, he rolled sideways, nearly squashing L’ocean like a fly. She evaded to the left when the giant grabbed her in mid-motion and squeezed tight. Dozens of HPs dropped per second. The Syndicate pilot grinned inside his mech. “Your life is now in my hand.”

  “We have to break his grip,” I said to Yumi-D and Rokkit.

  “Let’s try to stagger the mofo.”

  The battle didn’t go as planned. The mech wasn’t falling for Rokkit’s taunts anymore and broke the pattern. His iron gloves squeezed tighter, dwindling L’ocean’s health and preventing her from healing herself.

  Double-damn.

  Yumi-D refrained from firing an exploda arrow because she feared hitting L’ocean with splash damage. I chainlinked the giant’s arm and tried to pull his claw open, but he pulled me in instead. No chance. I released the harpoon and rolled it in while L’ocean faced death.

  18

  She entered Critical Mode, where the timer counted down from ten. L’ocean kept silent, even over the chat. I wondered if the real player Cruz was in shock.

  “Hurry up,” I said to everyone. “We got to free her.”

  But Rokkit and Yumi-D hesitated. “This guy is way too overpowered.”

  “His health is halfway down. C’mon now.” I switched to my gunblade and fired pellets. All of them hit the giant but caused little damage. That rifle had outlived its use against bigger enemies.

  5…

  4…

  Rokkit joined the fray. He unleashed a brunt attack. Yuki-D provided cover fire from her sniper position. Her armor-piercing arrows sliced the air.

  3…

  2…

  Rokkit stopped his broadsword swing in mid-motion, like he lost the lust for battle.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Too late.”

  His mighty shoulders sacked. The giant dropped L’ocean to the ground like a squeezed raisin. The countdown timer had vanished, and with it, our beloved team player.

  “She’s dead,” Yumi-D said, meters behind, holding her Windcutter bow in bewilderment.

  No way.

  No freaking way.

  Even Rokkit’s avatar froze. This moment felt like a surreal scene from an ancient holo-flick.

  “He’s too overpowered,” the Lancer said. “There’s no way we can defeat him, not in this session. We gotta go.”

  “What about our quest? Grezz is still imprisoned.”

  “It’s your game,” Rokkit said and took off. His Lancer targeted the open gate of the outpost. He even dropped old items to decrease his weight and up his running speed.

  “He’s right, Dash,” Yumi-D said. “Three against a boss, mon dieu, that’s overkill. We should go.”

  She gave up her sniper shot position and followed Rokkit through the gate. I remained glued to my spot.

  “Yumi-D?”

  “Go, go, go.”

  Wasn’t that treason? Leaving the battlefield when a fellow player just joined digital nirvana? A quick glance to my right showed the damaged but sturdy mech marching toward me. My confusion had cost me valuable time.

  “Oh, you’re not getting away from me.”

  I had hesitated and tried to run away, but Grezz remained still alive, stuck in that weird container attached to the mech’s back.

  “You can join her, if you want.”

  “No interest.”

  I Dash’d away, no matter how bad it felt.

  “You’re not the only one with cha
inlink,” the boss said meters behind my armored back.

  Before I reached the gate, a giant grappling hook pulled me in like shellfish. My metal boots ground against the floor. Sparks spat from the friction. I pushed against the pull but the boss was stronger. Way stronger.

  “Finally my overweight pays,” the mech engineer said in his passive-aggressive voice.

  Was I going to get squashed like L’ocean?

  I tried to launch another spider mine when my WarTech ended up in his giant left metal claw.

  A message updated me:

  Warning. You’ve been captured by Boss Mechgineer.

  Tip: Ask your co-players to help you escape. When your character is immobilized, team members can almost always help you out.

  Are you kidding? Which allies? The ones who left me in the courtyard? What a joke.

  The new countdown started from ten and ran down like a Grim Reaper’s last warning. My real body drowned in sweat as my heart hammered through my chest. This wasn’t happening. Five… four… I shouted over my comm channel.

  “Yumi-D, Rokkit, get back. Help me.”

  “Where the hell are you?”

  “Captured.”

  A pause hummed. “Well, shit,” Rokkit said.

  Two…

  One…

  Shit indeed.

  19

  The game saved automatically. I logged off and wanted to rip the damn VR set apart and throw it against the wall. My mind failed to cope with the capture of my WarTech. It sounded wrong, no, surreal. I had heard of quests where players got captured, but it happened so rarely I never paid any attention to it. I unwrapped the helmet and gloves from my body and watched my twitching fingers. Whether that effect harbored from the long gaming session or the shock, I couldn’t tell.

  Hello stress, my old friend.

  I called up Cruz to see if he was alright, but he ignored me.

  Called him again and realized that he was probably too angry to talk to anyone right now. So I wrote him a message:

  Hey man, WTF just happened?

  It’s messed up, just so messed up.

  If you need to talk to someone, call me.

  We’ll figure something out. We’ll always do.

  Yours,

  Dashiell

  The second I finished writing the message, someone knocked on my door. I hurried to turn the knob and found Sparrow standing in the doorframe, her face wrapped with an incredulous expression.

  “Please tell me I wasn’t tripping,” I said.

  “What the F just happened? I mean, I know what just happened, but wow. Who would have guessed?”

  My mind looked for the right words. This moment seemed surreal. “Is that possible? I mean, it has to be glitch, right?”

  Her shoulders relaxed immediately. She leaned against the doorframe. “Unfortunately, it does happen. As you know, the game AI has become smarter over the years as she collected millions of data points from every gamer around the world.”

  She was drooling over game mechanics again. “What does that have to do with me?”

  “Fate Beater tries to constantly improve the game experience by making it more realistic and less linear. Remember the first iteration of the game?”

  “Maybe. Was a long time ago.”

  “About ten years ago.”

  “So sixty years in internet time.”

  “Well, the old version looked like a glorified RPG in virtual reality form. Over the years, the game improved not only in graphics but also complexity. NPCs became more intelligent, quests more complex. Especially when it came to mission variety and moral nuancing.” She paused. “This is not your standard MMORPG from the early twenty-first century, you know. It’s called a ‘smart’ VR game for a reason.”

  In these moments of quiet desperation, I wished I was playing one of these old fashioned hack & slash online games where you just teamed up with a group of players, beat the crap out of enemies, and cleared countless dungeon floors without moral choices. But this was the middle of the twenty-first century, and VR tried hard to outpace the real world.

  “What do I do now?”

  “Good question. I know only a couple of players who had been captured.”

  “What did they do?”

  “To be frank, I have no clue. Your situation is new to me as well.”

  Well, great. If a pro player like Sparrow was clueless, I faced real danger. I wiped my face with my warm palms. Salty sweat glued on my finger tips. Shame flooded all over me.

  “Where did I go wrong?”

  “You rushed to Grezz’s help without taking the perimeter into account. That mechgineer was strong but slow. You should have fought him in the open and not in the narrow courtyard.”

  Her words made so much sense it hurt, but the hectic situation and the adrenaline had corrupted my thinking.

  I should have been more careful.

  I should have stayed closer to my co-players.

  I should have…

  “Don’t worry,” Sparrow said, standing close to me. She tried her best to comfort me. “We’ll find a way.” She checked my VR gear. “As long as you’re offline, your character is safe. I’ve never ever heard of a single player losing his character offline.”

  “Maybe that’s going to happen, too.”

  “Highly unlikely. It would wreak havoc on the game company’s sales and subscription numbers.”

  A minor consolation. My mind still tried to put together the pieces. “I don’t know how that even happened… first that stupid Preshaar NPC gets taken and then L’ocean dies during the boss fight. It was supposed to be a moderate quest with lots of experience and loot.”

  “Remember what Balzac said—hubris comes before the headshot.”

  Great. Now my roommate was channeling my in-game mentor.

  “By the way, you’re already causing a commotion on the social channels.”

  Good news under normal circumstances, but in-game imprisonment would ruin the little reputation I had so carefully built over the last weeks. As if the universe wanted to punish me even more, my wristband rang. Susan Cohen called me, the agent from before. Her avatar glowed with every new ring, but I hesitated. Sparrow observed me glaring down my wristband. “Ignoring your agent is a bad idea. They demand full reciprocity.”

  “She’s not my agent.”

  And probably never will be, judging by my last misstep. I stood up and pondered my predicament. My body was so jacked up I couldn’t focus. Couldn’t control the shiver shocking my limbs. Sparrow rushed into the kitchen and returned with another rainbow-colored package in her hand. She pushed the cold tetrapack into my palm. “J-Lax. A soothing lemonade from Osaka. It calms your nerves.”

  Probably didn’t, but the notion was sweet. I downed the creamy liquid in one go. As with most drinks hailing from Japan, I couldn’t nail the taste. It vaguely reminded me of milk cream with tea flavor. More importantly, it calmed me down.

  “J-lax punches panic,” Sparrow said as she mocked the drink’s strange English slogan.

  “Now seriously. Here’s what I know—the game AI is incredibly intricate. It orchestrates game events based on player level, skill, and emotional tension. The dynamic context-related mechanics allow for insane variety within every quest layout.”

  “You sound like a game developer.”

  “To be a pro, you have to understand more than game mechanics. You have to crawl deep into the rabbit hole and understand the motivation of the game creators. Their modus operandi, so to speak.”

  My ears belonged to Sparrow. Every bit of her advice had been a blessing so far.

  “The game AI optimizes the mechanics for viewerships?”

  She cocked her delicate eyebrows. “Of course. Streaming is one of the most profitable revenue incomes. Why do you think companies pay fortunes to get featured?”

  I had no idea how much companies actually paid for spots and ads. I only knew that star players like Holland Pax diverted some of that money into their stuffed p
ockets.

  Sparrow continued. “For viewers to stay engaged day after day, the game has to offer variety. One way of achieving that is to mix up quests with storytelling elements. Permadeath is intense drama, but kills a player and his narrative, not to mention his career. Imprisonment is a nifty compromise—you create tension without killing off your pro player. It also serves as an in-game punishment for miserable teamwork.”

  Gosh this game was complex. But maybe I had been too confident jumping into the outpost quest. Beat up a few troopers, gain experience and loot, cozy up to the Preshaar—it sounded simple in the game menu.

  Sparrow stared at me with her dark eyes. She managed to both appear innocuous and stern with one look. “If you’re careless, you get punished with permadeath. The game AI is hard but fair.”

  I checked my wristband again. Cruz hadn’t replied to my message.

  I thought about calling him again but maybe he needed to digest the fight.

  Sparrow smiled at her wristband. “Your viewerships are skyrocketing by the way.”

  She was right. The stats had almost quadrupled as news about my imprisonment and L’ocean’s death trended. The game AI had created a minor scandal.

  “If it makes you comfortable, we can look up other players who dealt with a similar experience. They should know what to do about it.”

  Her advice was so simple I wanted to hit my head for stupidity. “You’re the best.” I moved in for a hug when Sparrow stepped back with her arms shielding her chest. She still dreaded body contact.

  “I’m sorry, I forgot.”

  “Sometimes emotions get the better of us.”

  She sat down to my, well, her, terminal and activated the speech search function. Within micro-seconds, hundreds of results with related player experiences popped up. Sparrow scanned through them and picked the most accurate cases.

  One of the players rang familiar.

  Yumi-D, the Ranger.

  She had been imprisoned? Yumi had never told me, but then again, most of our conversations revolved around fighting Syndicate suckers and cowtowing to Preshaar.

  I breathed in. “I think I can handle it on my own.”