13 Chapter Thirteen. A Box of Chocolates
"Of course I don't believe the lucky horseshoe superstition. But I understand it works whether you believe in it or not."
Niels Bohr
"Charisma is something you're born into."
Victor Chernomyrdin
PEOPLE HAVE a habit of starting a new life now and again. The only difference is in how they do it. You can turn a new leaf by quitting smoking and drinking on a New Year's Eve. Or you could buy a gym membership starting next Monday. You could even get a new lease of life on your favorite Internet forum by registering a new account.
You could delete your old game char and create a new one from scratch, then level it up using the knowledge and experience you already have.
You could do it in real life too, by changing your job, your appearance, your habits and even your lifestyle.
The older we get, the stronger our desire to rewrite our lives, deleting all our failed relationships, expired contacts and stupid actions. It's probably why readers love the stories of characters going back to their youth and reliving their old lives by taking a different, mistake-free route.
Today was the perfect chance for me to turn a new leaf. Everything seemed to fall into this pattern: my final decision to break up with Yanna, my first day at work and the mysterious gift from the future whose boosting mechanism allowed me to compensate for some of the wasted time.
As soon as I walked back in through the door, I gave Kira a call and told her about Yanna and her mother's visit.
"I'm afraid it's the end," I said. "Next Tuesday we're meeting up to file for divorce."
My sister heaved a sigh. "I see. Never mind. Just one of those things. Keep your chin up, li'l bro. It's not the end of the world, is it?"
"It's not. I'm starting a new job tomorrow. In sales. I got a funny feeling they're gonna give me a run for my money. I just won't have the time to be depressed."
"Did they hire you? No way! Excellent, well done! Listen, what if we all have dinner at our parents? Would you like that?"
"Good idea. How about Friday?"
"Okay. I need to go now. See you on Friday!"
I smiled. My heart felt strangely warm.
While still inspired, I concentrated and made a new task list. This was how it looked like now,
Tasks available:
- visit parents;
- level up Insight;
- get accepted for the Ultrapak job;
- finance my new start in life;
- downsize;
- finish reading the marketing book;
- buy some decent work clothes;
- buy some workout clothes and gear;
- buy a gym membership;
- return Richie to his owner Ms. Svetlana "Sveta" Messerschmitt;
- remove the Sexual Frustration debuff;
- meet up with Yanna and file for divorce
The old task Make up with Yanna and move back in with her had disappeared from the list, replaced by exactly the opposite. Interestingly, the program had classified the divorce application task as the least important, giving top priority to my upcoming family dinner. The thing that worried me the most, however, was how to get some money without having to borrow it, least of all from those close to me. Still, subconsciously I must have missed my parents a lot, realizing the importance of some quality family time.
I also needed to move into a smaller apartment. Another important step in my quest for a new life which required more cash injections.
Unhesitantly I put my state-of-the-art gaming computer up for sale, widescreen monitor and all. I priced it at 25% less than its analogs: I needed the money pronto.
By my estimation, it should fetch me enough to rent a studio, buy some clothes and guarantee a month or two of Spartan life, including gym membership. I had some ideas about starting to level up combat skills and even signing up for various classes and seminars that might improve my professional skills — but that would depend on my first sales results. Ultrapak's earnings were bonus-oriented so I had to work hard to earn a decent wage.
I called my landlady to tell her I'd move out as soon as the rent ran out. She wasn't pleased. I listened to her anxious objections about me not having warned them a month in advance as the contract required. Still, I explained the situation to her and managed to solve the problem in my favor. People like it when you're honest with them, and the mention of a divorce invariably stirs up their sympathies. It's almost as if they project your situation onto themselves, feeling sorry for you and empathizing with yet another broken dream.
Immediately afterward I received a phone call from some stuttering guy asking about my computer. When I told him that yes, it was still available, and yes, it was indeed the latest mega-machine good enough to launch shuttles into space, he wanted to come straight away to take a look and possibly to buy it on the spot.
I started copying all my personal files onto an external disk, preparing the computer for sale. It took quite a while — long enough for me to rustle up a proper pasta meal.
Just as I was about to sit down to lunch, the potential buyer finally arrived. It was a puny guy wearing a pair of shorts and a hugging T-shirt one size too small. He looked a bit jumpy and restless.
He spent about ten minutes checking the computer's characteristics, ran some sort of performance test, then reached for the money and started thumbing through it without even trying to haggle over the price.
What, just like that? "Wait a sec," I said, trying to keep up appearances. "It's been a while since I cleaned it. I won't be long."
"Doesn't matter," he interrupted me. "I can do it later."
He was so impatient to get away and start using the machine he even forgot to stutter.
"Mind if I format it?" I asked.
He heaved a doomed sigh. "I took time off from work to come over here."
"Just a quick one," I said, "to delete all the data and restore it to factory settings."
He nodded and started pacing the room, casting impatient glances at the formatting progress bar and giving Richie a wide berth. What a fidgety individual.
I checked out his stats. Maxim Travkin, age 24, social status level 3, criminal record: yes. Just out of curiosity, I looked him up on social media. By the time I scrolled through his feed, the computer had almost finished formatting.
I took the money and counted it, focusing on each note. The mysterious game system obligingly identified them,
5,000 rubles
A bank note issued by the Bank of Russia
Nominal value: 5,000 rubles
Issue date: 1997
Last modified: 2010.
I thumbed through the wad until I came to a note whose stats were different,
A piece of paper covered in artistic design
Size: 6.1811" by 2.71654"
Excuse me? A fake?
I felt it in my fingers, then peered at it against the light. It seemed to be perfectly genuine, watermarks and all.
Only apparently it wasn't.
I set it aside for the time being. "You wouldn't tell the difference, would you?" I said matter-of-factly to my buyer.
He got even more fidgety.
I turned to the dog. "Richie, watch him!"
"Eh, I... you know..." he began, stuttering.
"You know what?"
"I must be on my way. I need to get back to work... they've just called me," he showed me his phone making sure not to expose the screen, then rose and reached for the money.
"It's almost finished!" I insisted. "It's 97% done, look!"
"Sorry, I really got to go," he squeaked. "I'm off now."
"Wait a sec," I said, investing all the 12 pt. Charisma into my voice. Had I had my Derby shoes on, it would have been 13 pt.
"Could you tell you dog to keep away, please? I'm a bit scared of dogs."
He didn't lie this time. I could hear it in his voice. Well, so much the better.
"He's not aggressive, don't worry," I said. "If you don't make any sudden movements, he won't attack you."
Leaving him with the dog, I walked over to the front door and locked it. Having returned, I studied the remaining notes. I found three more identified as "pieces of paper covered in artistic design".
"Now, Maxim," I said. "Here's what we're going to do."
His eyes widened. He hadn't told me his name, had he?
I plucked up whatever courage I had — whatever Yanna might think of my non-existent cojones — and continued to speak in a level voice,
"Four of these five-thousand notes are fakes," I said. "That's a rip-off of twenty thousand rubles . Even though I'm already selling it at thirty thousand below its market price. Do you agree with me?"
"I didn't know..." he began.
"Of course you didn't. So you won't mind if I call the police."
"Please... please don't!"
That's when I knew for sure he'd known about the fakes all along. An honest person would have been surprised at my discovery, probably upset but hardly scared of the police. Still, I already knew from his profile that he was a petty crook. Apparently, even the likes of him enjoyed a good gaming computer.
"In that case," I said, "We'll make an agreement. You're buying the computer for the price we agreed upon-"
"Yes, of course!"
"And that's not all," I took in a big gulp of air, braced myself and tried to add some weight to my words. "You're going to compensate me for my emotional suffering induced by your little scheme for the same money as you tried to rip me off."
He zoned out, making some mental calculations. "It's a lot of money for me," he finally said. "How about we scrap compensation? I have two little girls, Tania and Masha. My wife is nursing the third..."
He wasn't stuttering anymore, was he? Did he feel safe already? Never mind. I knew how to make him nervous.
"You're not married," I said. "You don't have children, either. All right, I've had enough of this. I'm calling the police."
"I don't have so much money on me! I can go and fetch it if you-"
"I don't think so. I even think you've got enough money on you. You just want to get out of here, don't you? In which case I just might tell you what I know about you. Your name is Max Travkin, twenty-four, and you have a serious gambling problem. You bet on sports, don't you? You're also a convicted felon."
Trrrrrr! Trrrrrr! That was Boris who'd unsheathed her long-untrimmed claws and began clawing the couch with a dreadful ripping sound.
No idea whether it was her claws, Richie's fangs or my high Charisma figures but Max dialed a number on his phone and spoke to someone, asking them to bring the money.
I looked out the window. A young guy got out of a car parked next to the playground and headed for my house. I paused, weighing up the risks, then decided to play it safe.
"Alik!" I called out of the window. "Alik!"
Hearing my voice, Alik woke up and sprang from his bench in the pavilion, looking around himself. Finally he saw me.
"Mind coming up for a second?" I shouted. "I'm at number 204! Eighth floor!"
"I'm on my way!" he shouted back.
Soon I heard the sound of the elevator doors opening on the landing outside. The doorbell rang.
I motioned Max to follow me and went to answer the door. The guy from the car stood outside. Alik hovered behind his back, scratching his belly under his wife beater vest.
"Whassup, Phil?" he asked. "Problems?"
"Nah. Come in. Need to talk."
The guy from the car (Rustam Abdullaev, age 19, social status: student) looked around anxiously. Alik shouldered him out of his way and walked in.
I turned to the student. "So, Rustam? You've got the money?"
The student looked askance at Max who nodded his affirmation.
"Here," he handed me the bank notes.
"Excellent. To the left!" I slammed the door in his face and counted the money. "That's right. Forty grand as agreed. The computer is yours. Alik, come to the kitchen, man, let's have lunch together. You like pasta Navy style? "
Alik perked up. "I like pasta in any shape or form. Especially Navy style."
I helped Max collect the cables and pack them into a plastic bag, adding the headset, the Kargath Bladefist mouse pad and the multi-button gaming mouse for good measure.
"Chin up, man," I said, opening the door. "You'll still get a good profit on it. See you."
Max handed the heavy 50-pound desktop tower to his student partner. The student staggered toward the elevator with Max in his wake lugging the monitor and the plastic bag.
They climbed into the cabin. The elevator doors closed.
How strange. I wasn't at all sorry to see the last of my trusty old PC. When I'd bought it a year and a half ago, I was happy as the proverbial pig. Its out-of-this-world settings turned any game into a breeze even with maxed-out graphics. No more slide shows on a raid! I remembered an old PC I used to have, when I'd force myself to look down at the floor whenever the graphics card lagged, trying to visualize all the colorful paraphernalia of VFX emitted by a couple of dozen wizards, warlocks, shamans, paladins, priests and other such spell-casting folk.
And now I wasn't even upset. Later I might buy myself a laptop. In the meantime it wouldn't do me any harm to stay computer free for a while.
Why would I even need it? I had cutting-edge twenty-second century wetware uploaded to my brain!
Also, it made the task of moving house much easier. I didn't have to lug a 50-pound monster around anymore.
I slid the wad of money into my pocket. Good riddance.
Immediately, a new message popped up.
Congratulations! You've received a new skill level!
Skill name: Vending
Current level: 5
XP received: 500
500 XP per level — was it a lot? I needed the XP status bar really badly now. I was desperate to find out how much I had left till next level.
Task Status: Finance my new start in life
Task completed!
XP received: 20 pt.
+5% to Satisfaction
I lingered, reveling in the moment. I wouldn't mind more of the same.
Actually, things had worked out really well. The prompt sale, the fact that I hadn't been ripped off, even my leveling of Vending just in time for my first day working as a sales rep... was I really sure I'd invested the extra point into Strength and not Luck?
Finally, I awoke from my reverie. I had Alik to take care of. I walked into the kitchen.
He'd already poured the pasta and the sauce into the large heavy skillet my mother-in-law had rejected, and was busy warming it up.
We ate in silence. Alik shoveled mouthfuls of pasta into his mouth with one hand using the other to soak up oil from the skillet with a piece of bread. After a while, he leaned against the back of his chair and emitted a contented sigh. "Phew..."
"Have you had enough?"
He pricked up his ears. "Why? Have you got something else?"
"Only tea and cookies."
"Why didn't you say so! Cookies and tea, far out! You don't have any milk, by any chance?"
"Why, do you like milk with your tea?"
"Of course!" Alik sprang back to his feet, eager to put the kettle on, but I forced him back down.
"You're my guest," I said. "I'll make the tea now. Only I don't have any milk. Sorry about that."
We drank our tea to the accompaniment of his army stories and tales of his failed wedding. In the end, I laid four bank notes of five grand each on the table in front of him — the "compensation" I'd received from sneaky Max.
"It's twenty grand," I said. "Take it. You pay it back when you can. If you can."
I didn't count on him paying it back to me. Easy come, easy go. But to him it could make all the difference.
He stared at the money in disbelief, afraid of even touching it. "Are you serious?"
"Of course. I can't help you find a job so I thought I'd do this instead. And now I'm really sorry but I have things to do..."
"He's sorry!" Alik roared, springing to his feet and giving me a crushing hug.
Your Reputation with Romuald "Alik" Zhukov has improved!
Current Reputation: Respect 10/120
Another message followed the first one,
You've received +1 to Charisma!
Current Charisma: 13
You've received 1000 pt. XP for successfully leveling up a main characteristic!
Oh wow. I hadn't expected that at all. How cool was that? I must have done something truly special today if the game system had decided to shower me with enough XP to make the next Charisma level.
My improved Reputation must have had something to do with it too. And the mysterious stat booster.
Strangely enough, I was happier now than I'd ever been playing the Game. Which was understandable. These stats would be with me for life. I wasn't going to lose them as a result of some stupid system update.
I saw Alik to the door. He shook my hand long and hard before leaving. Finally, I closed the door behind him.
And then, bang.
Hidden quest alert: A Friend in Need. Quest completed!
XP received: 300
+15% to Satisfaction
It felt so good I could barely stand on my feet. It only lasted a couple of seconds — but my brain had already processed this pleasure fix and was craving more of the same.
I really needed to capitalize on my lucky streak. Time to find myself a new home.
I started checking the classified ads, marking down those that sounded interesting and copying the owners' phone numbers. I wasn't in the mood to go and view them now. Not quite yet. I still had time to move out.
Today, I had work clothes to buy, workout gear to choose and a decent gym to locate. I still had to finish the book I'd been reading, give the TV to Yanna's father, walk Richie... how was I supposed to do all that in one day? If my workday started at 8 a.m., I'd have to get up at six — five even, if I wanted to fit some running in. Which meant I had to be in bed by 10 p.m.
I set some money aside, enough to rent a new place and last me until my first paycheck. "Boris, I leave you in charge!" I said, getting ready to go out to the mall. "Richie, you're the security guard tonight."
The two were already lying within a couple feet of each other, following me with their gazes. Apparently, they'd come to some sort of compromise.
Richie had gained quite a bit of weight. Very soon his greedy chops wouldn't fit on my smartphone screen. All this time, he'd kept finishing off Boris' food and never stopped begging. Whenever I sat down to eat, he was there looking at me with those miserable eyes as if saying, "Please spare a scrap for a hungry old mutt..." Thanks to my generous offerings — but hopefully not only thanks to them — my Reputation with him had already risen to Reverence.
I took a minibus to the mall. As I rode, I tried to identify everything my gaze chanced upon: cars and passers-by, cats, birds and inanimate objects. It served two purposes, leveling Insight and adding to my people database. You never knew when it might come in handy.
I spent some quality time in boutiques, looking for clothes with decent stat bonuses. I lingered next to an expensive business suit by one of the famous makes. The full set gave you +6 to Charisma as well as considerable bonuses to Communication Skills, Vending, Seduction and Leadership.
The price tag was absolutely exorbitant. I could, in fact, go back home and use the money I'd set aside, but then what? What was I supposed to do afterward, seductive, charismatic and broke? Chat up single ladies in sleazy bars hoping to find a place to crash for the night?
In the perfume store, I couldn't help myself any longer. I bought some aftershave offering +1 to both Charisma and Seduction. Very befitting, considering my newly-acquired debuff. Having said that, the tasks I'd completed had more than made up for its downsides.
I finally bought a track suit and matching running shoes by a well-known brand name. The set gave +1 to all physical stats as well as Charisma. Okay, +1 to Agility or even Stamina I could understand, but Strength? How on earth would wearing this undoubtedly functional set of gear make me stronger? Apart from its cooling and self-ventilating properties, did it also affect my self-confidence or motivation? No idea.
I also bought two nice shirts for work, a pair of light summer pants and a belt. Their bonuses were negligible — same package of Charisma, Vending and Communication Skills — but combined with my own stats, even these crumbs began to add up.
I also took a chance to stock up on socks and underwear.
As I continued shopping around, I'd made a remarkable discovery. In the long run, there was no difference in stats between mass market items and expensive brand names. What did make a difference was how the item looked on me. The same shirt in two different sizes could either add or detract Charisma points. Which was logical, really. Could anyone look charismatic in a shirt three sizes too big? As a clown yeah, maybe. Then again, a clown was supposed to be funny. Or sad. Or cute. Was there even such a thing as a charismatic clown? Probably not. Unless your name was Vladimir Zhirinovsky .
Also, it went without saying that clothes stats had to match the wearer's identity. This wasn't a game. The bonuses coming with a mini skirt wouldn't do a male owner any favors.
Finally I left the mall. The system paused, making sure I was done with my purchases, then rewarded me with 10 XP and +2% to Satisfaction for completing the task.
I took a minibus home, once again trying to ID everything in sight. Yanna's dad had already called me asking when he could come to collect the proverbial Idiot Box. We agreed to meet up at my place a bit later. I still had to pop into the gym to buy a membership. I was itching to close the task and start leveling up as early as next morning.
The gym membership turned out to be more expensive than I'd thought. Still, it included a free trial and a consultation with a coach. Also, I could always pay on a pay-per-visit basis without having to shell out for a monthly plan. Which was probably a better option if I failed to find a new place in the same neighborhood.
Despite this minor hiccup, the system duly closed the task, rewarding me with 10 XP. No Satisfaction bonuses this time.
I came back home just in time. My father-in-law was already waiting in front of my apartment. Richie behind the door was barking in short weighty bursts, very believably impersonating Gandalf's You... Shall... Not... Pass!
Yanna's father was a regular hard-working guy, balding and on the brink of retirement. You could always count on him to join you for a drink and a heart-to-heart. Whenever Yanna and I had had a falling out, I sensed his silent support behind my back. As a fellow man, he understood me — but as a father, he was obliged to take his daughter's side. He just loved her too much and didn't seem to mind his wife's bossing ways. Also, he wanted grandchildren. Shame it hadn't quite worked out.
"Ah, Phil," he said, noticing me.
I shook his proffered hand. "Hi, Mr. Orlov."
"I'm sorry it came to this."
"So am I," I said, opening the door.
For a brief moment, I meant it. I was sorry it had had to come to this. Really.
I unplugged the TV from the cable, lifted it from its stand and helped Mr. Orlov to wrap it in a blanket and tie it up with a piece of string. He was a provident guy. I would never have thought of bringing that sort of thing along.
I helped him to carry the TV to the elevator and pressed the button.
Entering the elevator, he shrugged sort of apologetically. "Don't get mad at them. Women! I'll see you around."
I took Richie out for a quick walk, then cooked a humble bachelor's dinner of jacket potatoes and meatballs with some sliced cucumbers on the side. Now the apartment looked completely empty. I only had the dog and the cat to keep me company. Both were with me now in the kitchen.
As I cooked the meatballs, I curiously studied the stats on each of them. What a shame I couldn't see their contents! Were they really "beef, 50%, pork, 35%" as the packaging claimed?
Just I'd finished cooking them, I was blinded with an abundance of new messages. Bang! Bang! Bang!
Congratulations! You've received a new skill level!
Skill name: Cooking
Current level: 3
XP received: 500
You've received a new system skill level!
Skill name: Insight
Current level: 2
XP received: 1000
You've unblocked new emotional characteristics!
Emotional characteristics available: Mood, Spirit, Willpower, Confidence
Task Status: Level up Insight
Task completed!
XP received: 200 pt.
+15% to Satisfaction
Would you like to see the skill's full details?
Just as I heaved a gasp of ecstasy, a new buff message appeared,
Happiness I
Your Satisfaction levels have exceeded 100%!
+50% to Vigor
+1 to all main characteristics
Duration: as long as Satisfaction levels exceed 100%
Now I began to understand what people felt when they said they could fly with joy. I'd never experienced anything like that — not after my first sex, not even when I'd attained my highest WoW achievements. Even when Yanna and I had begun dating, it hadn't felt like this despite me being madly and happily in love.
The excitement had completely put me off my food. I munched mechanically on my meatballs simply to avoid getting the Hunger debuff.
As I ate, I studied the detailed description for Insight II.
Insight II
Skill type: Passive
- Allows you to receive advanced information about your characteristics and skills, including XP, characteristic, and skill progress bars
- Allows you to register and enter the following additional secondary characteristics: Mood, Spirit, Willpower, Confidence, and Self-Control
- Allows you to receive advanced item information, including their composition, production history and approximate monetary evaluation
- Allows you to receive advanced information about other people and living beings, including their main characteristics and primary skills
- When interacting with others, allows you to see their Mood and Interest levels
- Provides information on any available skills which are currently blocked
- Marks the location of people and other living beings on your map, provided your knowledge of them is equal or exceeds 5 KIDD points.
- Displays your heart rate, current date and time and a mini map
I temporarily zoned out, not knowing where to begin. I must have dropped a meatball from my fork, judging by the scuffle that ensued (which Richie predictably won). I was even oblivious of Boris' sneaky paw reaching for my plate. My subconscious must have duly registered my pets' insolent behavior but my brain was in overdrive.
I summoned Martha, hoping to receive an explanation of the mysterious KIDD points.
Martha leaned her lithe back on the wall pressing the sole of the foot against it. Exactly what I didn't need with my newly-acquired debuff. My body reacted to her presence without my consent.
"Martha, could you please change your avatar?"
"Request denied. Insufficient resource."
"Could you at least change into something more presentable?"
She immediately "changed" into a skimpy evening dress. Oh, great. This was getting worse.
"Never mind," I said. "Mind telling me what KIDD is?"
"KIDD is Key ID Data. One KIDD point contains one key property of an object which allows for its repeated successful identification."
"Could you give me an example, please?"
"For human beings, it can be a close-up photograph of a person's face, their full name or date of birth, their place of birth, place of current employment or any such information about their family members, among other things."
"How can knowing someone's place of birth help you to find them?"
Martha shook her head in silent amazement. "Phil, Phil. Compare the planet's entire population to that of even its biggest city."
"Okay, I got it. Now please get lost. I'm not in a good way. That wretched debuff!"
"Request accepted. Allow me to bring to your attention that you are recommended to enter into a sexual inter-"
"Piss off!"
She disappeared. I opened the skill tab, scrolled it all the way to the end and focused on the yet-inactive Optimization.
AFTER A SHORT WHILE, I walked out onto the balcony and looked up, gazing at the stars.
Today had just turned out to be the best day of my life.
In any known RPG, Optimization would be a perfectly legit skill. Well, almost.
But in real life... goodness me, this was a cheat to end all cheats! If you put it in a book, no one would believe such a Deus-ex-freakin-machina! But there I was, having it courtesy of the mysterious game system.
Optimization I
- Allows you to select primary and secondary skills.
The development of primary skills will take 50% less time than average. The development of secondary skills will take 50% longer than average.
- Allows you to convert secondary skill points to primary ones at a rate of 2 to 1, with the consequent deletion of the secondary skill.
Cooldown: 30 days
Warning! In order to activate the skill, an undisturbed 12-hour period of sleep is required. Please ensure your location is safe. You are recommended to adopt a prone position.
I desperately needed a skill point.
And to get it, I had to keep leveling.
Niels Bohr
"Charisma is something you're born into."
Victor Chernomyrdin
PEOPLE HAVE a habit of starting a new life now and again. The only difference is in how they do it. You can turn a new leaf by quitting smoking and drinking on a New Year's Eve. Or you could buy a gym membership starting next Monday. You could even get a new lease of life on your favorite Internet forum by registering a new account.
You could delete your old game char and create a new one from scratch, then level it up using the knowledge and experience you already have.
You could do it in real life too, by changing your job, your appearance, your habits and even your lifestyle.
The older we get, the stronger our desire to rewrite our lives, deleting all our failed relationships, expired contacts and stupid actions. It's probably why readers love the stories of characters going back to their youth and reliving their old lives by taking a different, mistake-free route.
Today was the perfect chance for me to turn a new leaf. Everything seemed to fall into this pattern: my final decision to break up with Yanna, my first day at work and the mysterious gift from the future whose boosting mechanism allowed me to compensate for some of the wasted time.
As soon as I walked back in through the door, I gave Kira a call and told her about Yanna and her mother's visit.
"I'm afraid it's the end," I said. "Next Tuesday we're meeting up to file for divorce."
My sister heaved a sigh. "I see. Never mind. Just one of those things. Keep your chin up, li'l bro. It's not the end of the world, is it?"
"It's not. I'm starting a new job tomorrow. In sales. I got a funny feeling they're gonna give me a run for my money. I just won't have the time to be depressed."
"Did they hire you? No way! Excellent, well done! Listen, what if we all have dinner at our parents? Would you like that?"
"Good idea. How about Friday?"
"Okay. I need to go now. See you on Friday!"
I smiled. My heart felt strangely warm.
While still inspired, I concentrated and made a new task list. This was how it looked like now,
Tasks available:
- visit parents;
- level up Insight;
- get accepted for the Ultrapak job;
- finance my new start in life;
- downsize;
- finish reading the marketing book;
- buy some decent work clothes;
- buy some workout clothes and gear;
- buy a gym membership;
- return Richie to his owner Ms. Svetlana "Sveta" Messerschmitt;
- remove the Sexual Frustration debuff;
- meet up with Yanna and file for divorce
The old task Make up with Yanna and move back in with her had disappeared from the list, replaced by exactly the opposite. Interestingly, the program had classified the divorce application task as the least important, giving top priority to my upcoming family dinner. The thing that worried me the most, however, was how to get some money without having to borrow it, least of all from those close to me. Still, subconsciously I must have missed my parents a lot, realizing the importance of some quality family time.
I also needed to move into a smaller apartment. Another important step in my quest for a new life which required more cash injections.
Unhesitantly I put my state-of-the-art gaming computer up for sale, widescreen monitor and all. I priced it at 25% less than its analogs: I needed the money pronto.
By my estimation, it should fetch me enough to rent a studio, buy some clothes and guarantee a month or two of Spartan life, including gym membership. I had some ideas about starting to level up combat skills and even signing up for various classes and seminars that might improve my professional skills — but that would depend on my first sales results. Ultrapak's earnings were bonus-oriented so I had to work hard to earn a decent wage.
I called my landlady to tell her I'd move out as soon as the rent ran out. She wasn't pleased. I listened to her anxious objections about me not having warned them a month in advance as the contract required. Still, I explained the situation to her and managed to solve the problem in my favor. People like it when you're honest with them, and the mention of a divorce invariably stirs up their sympathies. It's almost as if they project your situation onto themselves, feeling sorry for you and empathizing with yet another broken dream.
Immediately afterward I received a phone call from some stuttering guy asking about my computer. When I told him that yes, it was still available, and yes, it was indeed the latest mega-machine good enough to launch shuttles into space, he wanted to come straight away to take a look and possibly to buy it on the spot.
I started copying all my personal files onto an external disk, preparing the computer for sale. It took quite a while — long enough for me to rustle up a proper pasta meal.
Just as I was about to sit down to lunch, the potential buyer finally arrived. It was a puny guy wearing a pair of shorts and a hugging T-shirt one size too small. He looked a bit jumpy and restless.
He spent about ten minutes checking the computer's characteristics, ran some sort of performance test, then reached for the money and started thumbing through it without even trying to haggle over the price.
What, just like that? "Wait a sec," I said, trying to keep up appearances. "It's been a while since I cleaned it. I won't be long."
"Doesn't matter," he interrupted me. "I can do it later."
He was so impatient to get away and start using the machine he even forgot to stutter.
"Mind if I format it?" I asked.
He heaved a doomed sigh. "I took time off from work to come over here."
"Just a quick one," I said, "to delete all the data and restore it to factory settings."
He nodded and started pacing the room, casting impatient glances at the formatting progress bar and giving Richie a wide berth. What a fidgety individual.
I checked out his stats. Maxim Travkin, age 24, social status level 3, criminal record: yes. Just out of curiosity, I looked him up on social media. By the time I scrolled through his feed, the computer had almost finished formatting.
I took the money and counted it, focusing on each note. The mysterious game system obligingly identified them,
5,000 rubles
A bank note issued by the Bank of Russia
Nominal value: 5,000 rubles
Issue date: 1997
Last modified: 2010.
I thumbed through the wad until I came to a note whose stats were different,
A piece of paper covered in artistic design
Size: 6.1811" by 2.71654"
Excuse me? A fake?
I felt it in my fingers, then peered at it against the light. It seemed to be perfectly genuine, watermarks and all.
Only apparently it wasn't.
I set it aside for the time being. "You wouldn't tell the difference, would you?" I said matter-of-factly to my buyer.
He got even more fidgety.
I turned to the dog. "Richie, watch him!"
"Eh, I... you know..." he began, stuttering.
"You know what?"
"I must be on my way. I need to get back to work... they've just called me," he showed me his phone making sure not to expose the screen, then rose and reached for the money.
"It's almost finished!" I insisted. "It's 97% done, look!"
"Sorry, I really got to go," he squeaked. "I'm off now."
"Wait a sec," I said, investing all the 12 pt. Charisma into my voice. Had I had my Derby shoes on, it would have been 13 pt.
"Could you tell you dog to keep away, please? I'm a bit scared of dogs."
He didn't lie this time. I could hear it in his voice. Well, so much the better.
"He's not aggressive, don't worry," I said. "If you don't make any sudden movements, he won't attack you."
Leaving him with the dog, I walked over to the front door and locked it. Having returned, I studied the remaining notes. I found three more identified as "pieces of paper covered in artistic design".
"Now, Maxim," I said. "Here's what we're going to do."
His eyes widened. He hadn't told me his name, had he?
I plucked up whatever courage I had — whatever Yanna might think of my non-existent cojones — and continued to speak in a level voice,
"Four of these five-thousand notes are fakes," I said. "That's a rip-off of twenty thousand rubles . Even though I'm already selling it at thirty thousand below its market price. Do you agree with me?"
"I didn't know..." he began.
"Of course you didn't. So you won't mind if I call the police."
"Please... please don't!"
That's when I knew for sure he'd known about the fakes all along. An honest person would have been surprised at my discovery, probably upset but hardly scared of the police. Still, I already knew from his profile that he was a petty crook. Apparently, even the likes of him enjoyed a good gaming computer.
"In that case," I said, "We'll make an agreement. You're buying the computer for the price we agreed upon-"
"Yes, of course!"
"And that's not all," I took in a big gulp of air, braced myself and tried to add some weight to my words. "You're going to compensate me for my emotional suffering induced by your little scheme for the same money as you tried to rip me off."
He zoned out, making some mental calculations. "It's a lot of money for me," he finally said. "How about we scrap compensation? I have two little girls, Tania and Masha. My wife is nursing the third..."
He wasn't stuttering anymore, was he? Did he feel safe already? Never mind. I knew how to make him nervous.
"You're not married," I said. "You don't have children, either. All right, I've had enough of this. I'm calling the police."
"I don't have so much money on me! I can go and fetch it if you-"
"I don't think so. I even think you've got enough money on you. You just want to get out of here, don't you? In which case I just might tell you what I know about you. Your name is Max Travkin, twenty-four, and you have a serious gambling problem. You bet on sports, don't you? You're also a convicted felon."
Trrrrrr! Trrrrrr! That was Boris who'd unsheathed her long-untrimmed claws and began clawing the couch with a dreadful ripping sound.
No idea whether it was her claws, Richie's fangs or my high Charisma figures but Max dialed a number on his phone and spoke to someone, asking them to bring the money.
I looked out the window. A young guy got out of a car parked next to the playground and headed for my house. I paused, weighing up the risks, then decided to play it safe.
"Alik!" I called out of the window. "Alik!"
Hearing my voice, Alik woke up and sprang from his bench in the pavilion, looking around himself. Finally he saw me.
"Mind coming up for a second?" I shouted. "I'm at number 204! Eighth floor!"
"I'm on my way!" he shouted back.
Soon I heard the sound of the elevator doors opening on the landing outside. The doorbell rang.
I motioned Max to follow me and went to answer the door. The guy from the car stood outside. Alik hovered behind his back, scratching his belly under his wife beater vest.
"Whassup, Phil?" he asked. "Problems?"
"Nah. Come in. Need to talk."
The guy from the car (Rustam Abdullaev, age 19, social status: student) looked around anxiously. Alik shouldered him out of his way and walked in.
I turned to the student. "So, Rustam? You've got the money?"
The student looked askance at Max who nodded his affirmation.
"Here," he handed me the bank notes.
"Excellent. To the left!" I slammed the door in his face and counted the money. "That's right. Forty grand as agreed. The computer is yours. Alik, come to the kitchen, man, let's have lunch together. You like pasta Navy style? "
Alik perked up. "I like pasta in any shape or form. Especially Navy style."
I helped Max collect the cables and pack them into a plastic bag, adding the headset, the Kargath Bladefist mouse pad and the multi-button gaming mouse for good measure.
"Chin up, man," I said, opening the door. "You'll still get a good profit on it. See you."
Max handed the heavy 50-pound desktop tower to his student partner. The student staggered toward the elevator with Max in his wake lugging the monitor and the plastic bag.
They climbed into the cabin. The elevator doors closed.
How strange. I wasn't at all sorry to see the last of my trusty old PC. When I'd bought it a year and a half ago, I was happy as the proverbial pig. Its out-of-this-world settings turned any game into a breeze even with maxed-out graphics. No more slide shows on a raid! I remembered an old PC I used to have, when I'd force myself to look down at the floor whenever the graphics card lagged, trying to visualize all the colorful paraphernalia of VFX emitted by a couple of dozen wizards, warlocks, shamans, paladins, priests and other such spell-casting folk.
And now I wasn't even upset. Later I might buy myself a laptop. In the meantime it wouldn't do me any harm to stay computer free for a while.
Why would I even need it? I had cutting-edge twenty-second century wetware uploaded to my brain!
Also, it made the task of moving house much easier. I didn't have to lug a 50-pound monster around anymore.
I slid the wad of money into my pocket. Good riddance.
Immediately, a new message popped up.
Congratulations! You've received a new skill level!
Skill name: Vending
Current level: 5
XP received: 500
500 XP per level — was it a lot? I needed the XP status bar really badly now. I was desperate to find out how much I had left till next level.
Task Status: Finance my new start in life
Task completed!
XP received: 20 pt.
+5% to Satisfaction
I lingered, reveling in the moment. I wouldn't mind more of the same.
Actually, things had worked out really well. The prompt sale, the fact that I hadn't been ripped off, even my leveling of Vending just in time for my first day working as a sales rep... was I really sure I'd invested the extra point into Strength and not Luck?
Finally, I awoke from my reverie. I had Alik to take care of. I walked into the kitchen.
He'd already poured the pasta and the sauce into the large heavy skillet my mother-in-law had rejected, and was busy warming it up.
We ate in silence. Alik shoveled mouthfuls of pasta into his mouth with one hand using the other to soak up oil from the skillet with a piece of bread. After a while, he leaned against the back of his chair and emitted a contented sigh. "Phew..."
"Have you had enough?"
He pricked up his ears. "Why? Have you got something else?"
"Only tea and cookies."
"Why didn't you say so! Cookies and tea, far out! You don't have any milk, by any chance?"
"Why, do you like milk with your tea?"
"Of course!" Alik sprang back to his feet, eager to put the kettle on, but I forced him back down.
"You're my guest," I said. "I'll make the tea now. Only I don't have any milk. Sorry about that."
We drank our tea to the accompaniment of his army stories and tales of his failed wedding. In the end, I laid four bank notes of five grand each on the table in front of him — the "compensation" I'd received from sneaky Max.
"It's twenty grand," I said. "Take it. You pay it back when you can. If you can."
I didn't count on him paying it back to me. Easy come, easy go. But to him it could make all the difference.
He stared at the money in disbelief, afraid of even touching it. "Are you serious?"
"Of course. I can't help you find a job so I thought I'd do this instead. And now I'm really sorry but I have things to do..."
"He's sorry!" Alik roared, springing to his feet and giving me a crushing hug.
Your Reputation with Romuald "Alik" Zhukov has improved!
Current Reputation: Respect 10/120
Another message followed the first one,
You've received +1 to Charisma!
Current Charisma: 13
You've received 1000 pt. XP for successfully leveling up a main characteristic!
Oh wow. I hadn't expected that at all. How cool was that? I must have done something truly special today if the game system had decided to shower me with enough XP to make the next Charisma level.
My improved Reputation must have had something to do with it too. And the mysterious stat booster.
Strangely enough, I was happier now than I'd ever been playing the Game. Which was understandable. These stats would be with me for life. I wasn't going to lose them as a result of some stupid system update.
I saw Alik to the door. He shook my hand long and hard before leaving. Finally, I closed the door behind him.
And then, bang.
Hidden quest alert: A Friend in Need. Quest completed!
XP received: 300
+15% to Satisfaction
It felt so good I could barely stand on my feet. It only lasted a couple of seconds — but my brain had already processed this pleasure fix and was craving more of the same.
I really needed to capitalize on my lucky streak. Time to find myself a new home.
I started checking the classified ads, marking down those that sounded interesting and copying the owners' phone numbers. I wasn't in the mood to go and view them now. Not quite yet. I still had time to move out.
Today, I had work clothes to buy, workout gear to choose and a decent gym to locate. I still had to finish the book I'd been reading, give the TV to Yanna's father, walk Richie... how was I supposed to do all that in one day? If my workday started at 8 a.m., I'd have to get up at six — five even, if I wanted to fit some running in. Which meant I had to be in bed by 10 p.m.
I set some money aside, enough to rent a new place and last me until my first paycheck. "Boris, I leave you in charge!" I said, getting ready to go out to the mall. "Richie, you're the security guard tonight."
The two were already lying within a couple feet of each other, following me with their gazes. Apparently, they'd come to some sort of compromise.
Richie had gained quite a bit of weight. Very soon his greedy chops wouldn't fit on my smartphone screen. All this time, he'd kept finishing off Boris' food and never stopped begging. Whenever I sat down to eat, he was there looking at me with those miserable eyes as if saying, "Please spare a scrap for a hungry old mutt..." Thanks to my generous offerings — but hopefully not only thanks to them — my Reputation with him had already risen to Reverence.
I took a minibus to the mall. As I rode, I tried to identify everything my gaze chanced upon: cars and passers-by, cats, birds and inanimate objects. It served two purposes, leveling Insight and adding to my people database. You never knew when it might come in handy.
I spent some quality time in boutiques, looking for clothes with decent stat bonuses. I lingered next to an expensive business suit by one of the famous makes. The full set gave you +6 to Charisma as well as considerable bonuses to Communication Skills, Vending, Seduction and Leadership.
The price tag was absolutely exorbitant. I could, in fact, go back home and use the money I'd set aside, but then what? What was I supposed to do afterward, seductive, charismatic and broke? Chat up single ladies in sleazy bars hoping to find a place to crash for the night?
In the perfume store, I couldn't help myself any longer. I bought some aftershave offering +1 to both Charisma and Seduction. Very befitting, considering my newly-acquired debuff. Having said that, the tasks I'd completed had more than made up for its downsides.
I finally bought a track suit and matching running shoes by a well-known brand name. The set gave +1 to all physical stats as well as Charisma. Okay, +1 to Agility or even Stamina I could understand, but Strength? How on earth would wearing this undoubtedly functional set of gear make me stronger? Apart from its cooling and self-ventilating properties, did it also affect my self-confidence or motivation? No idea.
I also bought two nice shirts for work, a pair of light summer pants and a belt. Their bonuses were negligible — same package of Charisma, Vending and Communication Skills — but combined with my own stats, even these crumbs began to add up.
I also took a chance to stock up on socks and underwear.
As I continued shopping around, I'd made a remarkable discovery. In the long run, there was no difference in stats between mass market items and expensive brand names. What did make a difference was how the item looked on me. The same shirt in two different sizes could either add or detract Charisma points. Which was logical, really. Could anyone look charismatic in a shirt three sizes too big? As a clown yeah, maybe. Then again, a clown was supposed to be funny. Or sad. Or cute. Was there even such a thing as a charismatic clown? Probably not. Unless your name was Vladimir Zhirinovsky .
Also, it went without saying that clothes stats had to match the wearer's identity. This wasn't a game. The bonuses coming with a mini skirt wouldn't do a male owner any favors.
Finally I left the mall. The system paused, making sure I was done with my purchases, then rewarded me with 10 XP and +2% to Satisfaction for completing the task.
I took a minibus home, once again trying to ID everything in sight. Yanna's dad had already called me asking when he could come to collect the proverbial Idiot Box. We agreed to meet up at my place a bit later. I still had to pop into the gym to buy a membership. I was itching to close the task and start leveling up as early as next morning.
The gym membership turned out to be more expensive than I'd thought. Still, it included a free trial and a consultation with a coach. Also, I could always pay on a pay-per-visit basis without having to shell out for a monthly plan. Which was probably a better option if I failed to find a new place in the same neighborhood.
Despite this minor hiccup, the system duly closed the task, rewarding me with 10 XP. No Satisfaction bonuses this time.
I came back home just in time. My father-in-law was already waiting in front of my apartment. Richie behind the door was barking in short weighty bursts, very believably impersonating Gandalf's You... Shall... Not... Pass!
Yanna's father was a regular hard-working guy, balding and on the brink of retirement. You could always count on him to join you for a drink and a heart-to-heart. Whenever Yanna and I had had a falling out, I sensed his silent support behind my back. As a fellow man, he understood me — but as a father, he was obliged to take his daughter's side. He just loved her too much and didn't seem to mind his wife's bossing ways. Also, he wanted grandchildren. Shame it hadn't quite worked out.
"Ah, Phil," he said, noticing me.
I shook his proffered hand. "Hi, Mr. Orlov."
"I'm sorry it came to this."
"So am I," I said, opening the door.
For a brief moment, I meant it. I was sorry it had had to come to this. Really.
I unplugged the TV from the cable, lifted it from its stand and helped Mr. Orlov to wrap it in a blanket and tie it up with a piece of string. He was a provident guy. I would never have thought of bringing that sort of thing along.
I helped him to carry the TV to the elevator and pressed the button.
Entering the elevator, he shrugged sort of apologetically. "Don't get mad at them. Women! I'll see you around."
I took Richie out for a quick walk, then cooked a humble bachelor's dinner of jacket potatoes and meatballs with some sliced cucumbers on the side. Now the apartment looked completely empty. I only had the dog and the cat to keep me company. Both were with me now in the kitchen.
As I cooked the meatballs, I curiously studied the stats on each of them. What a shame I couldn't see their contents! Were they really "beef, 50%, pork, 35%" as the packaging claimed?
Just I'd finished cooking them, I was blinded with an abundance of new messages. Bang! Bang! Bang!
Congratulations! You've received a new skill level!
Skill name: Cooking
Current level: 3
XP received: 500
You've received a new system skill level!
Skill name: Insight
Current level: 2
XP received: 1000
You've unblocked new emotional characteristics!
Emotional characteristics available: Mood, Spirit, Willpower, Confidence
Task Status: Level up Insight
Task completed!
XP received: 200 pt.
+15% to Satisfaction
Would you like to see the skill's full details?
Just as I heaved a gasp of ecstasy, a new buff message appeared,
Happiness I
Your Satisfaction levels have exceeded 100%!
+50% to Vigor
+1 to all main characteristics
Duration: as long as Satisfaction levels exceed 100%
Now I began to understand what people felt when they said they could fly with joy. I'd never experienced anything like that — not after my first sex, not even when I'd attained my highest WoW achievements. Even when Yanna and I had begun dating, it hadn't felt like this despite me being madly and happily in love.
The excitement had completely put me off my food. I munched mechanically on my meatballs simply to avoid getting the Hunger debuff.
As I ate, I studied the detailed description for Insight II.
Insight II
Skill type: Passive
- Allows you to receive advanced information about your characteristics and skills, including XP, characteristic, and skill progress bars
- Allows you to register and enter the following additional secondary characteristics: Mood, Spirit, Willpower, Confidence, and Self-Control
- Allows you to receive advanced item information, including their composition, production history and approximate monetary evaluation
- Allows you to receive advanced information about other people and living beings, including their main characteristics and primary skills
- When interacting with others, allows you to see their Mood and Interest levels
- Provides information on any available skills which are currently blocked
- Marks the location of people and other living beings on your map, provided your knowledge of them is equal or exceeds 5 KIDD points.
- Displays your heart rate, current date and time and a mini map
I temporarily zoned out, not knowing where to begin. I must have dropped a meatball from my fork, judging by the scuffle that ensued (which Richie predictably won). I was even oblivious of Boris' sneaky paw reaching for my plate. My subconscious must have duly registered my pets' insolent behavior but my brain was in overdrive.
I summoned Martha, hoping to receive an explanation of the mysterious KIDD points.
Martha leaned her lithe back on the wall pressing the sole of the foot against it. Exactly what I didn't need with my newly-acquired debuff. My body reacted to her presence without my consent.
"Martha, could you please change your avatar?"
"Request denied. Insufficient resource."
"Could you at least change into something more presentable?"
She immediately "changed" into a skimpy evening dress. Oh, great. This was getting worse.
"Never mind," I said. "Mind telling me what KIDD is?"
"KIDD is Key ID Data. One KIDD point contains one key property of an object which allows for its repeated successful identification."
"Could you give me an example, please?"
"For human beings, it can be a close-up photograph of a person's face, their full name or date of birth, their place of birth, place of current employment or any such information about their family members, among other things."
"How can knowing someone's place of birth help you to find them?"
Martha shook her head in silent amazement. "Phil, Phil. Compare the planet's entire population to that of even its biggest city."
"Okay, I got it. Now please get lost. I'm not in a good way. That wretched debuff!"
"Request accepted. Allow me to bring to your attention that you are recommended to enter into a sexual inter-"
"Piss off!"
She disappeared. I opened the skill tab, scrolled it all the way to the end and focused on the yet-inactive Optimization.
AFTER A SHORT WHILE, I walked out onto the balcony and looked up, gazing at the stars.
Today had just turned out to be the best day of my life.
In any known RPG, Optimization would be a perfectly legit skill. Well, almost.
But in real life... goodness me, this was a cheat to end all cheats! If you put it in a book, no one would believe such a Deus-ex-freakin-machina! But there I was, having it courtesy of the mysterious game system.
Optimization I
- Allows you to select primary and secondary skills.
The development of primary skills will take 50% less time than average. The development of secondary skills will take 50% longer than average.
- Allows you to convert secondary skill points to primary ones at a rate of 2 to 1, with the consequent deletion of the secondary skill.
Cooldown: 30 days
Warning! In order to activate the skill, an undisturbed 12-hour period of sleep is required. Please ensure your location is safe. You are recommended to adopt a prone position.
I desperately needed a skill point.
And to get it, I had to keep leveling.
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