Il-Su let out a soft breath, and then wiped his knife free of blood. It was getting easier to not think of people as people in this game, as just another NPC to kill. He had to remember these stakes were real. That these were actual people he was hurting.
But all these dumb fucks just kept coming for him.
“You okay?” Il-Su asked Slider.
The kid was pale and sweating, shocked by the sudden explosion of violence that had happened. He gave a shaky smile and a thumbs up.
Il-Su nodded once, and then carved the soul crystal out from the dead body of the player that had been dumb enough to come charging at him head-on, screaming obscenities in lieu of warcries the entire time. He’d tried to brute force Il-Su down, swinging a two-handed sword in awkward, overhead strikes.
Such a strategy might’ve worked if he’d actually had any skill with a blade, or high enough stats. But Il-Su had naturally outclassed him on both fronts, and now it was time to reap his rewards.
Choose Stat to Enhance
Strength / Agility / Fortune
He was tempted to tap the button for Agility, almost a practiced and conditioned response at this point, and then briefly thought on Strength. He did need the ability to burst through an opponent’s Tenacity better. It was something he’d been worrying about for a while now.
But then another thought came to him. He hadn’t invested anything at all in Fortune up to this point. And with how absolutely rotten his luck had been, maybe it was time. Time to turn over a new leaf, and leave this chapter of his life behind.
Holt had said Fortune wasn’t luck, not really. It was opportunity made manifest. The chance to rise above your circumstances. There would be risks, but at this point, his entire life felt like a risk. He needed an edge.
He tapped the panel with his knuckles, not coming into physical contact with the menu, but a sensation of having touched something still registering on his skin.
“Well, that’s my three points done,” Il-Su said. “We just need to find two for you, and…”
He trailed off as that one bitch with the club rounded the corner around a stone pillar. They stared at each other for one second, and then she raised her weapon as he drew a dagger.
“Wait!”
A burly man pushed past the unicorn-haired goth chick, hands upraised and waving. Il-Su paused, tempted to just wound them both and let Slider finish them. The kid did need two more points, and it looked like that point in Fortune was already providing opportunities.
“Il-Su, it’s me,” the man said.
He didn’t look familiar. He was bearded, bare chested, and jacked. His muscles looked like they had their own lesser muscles. But the voice tickled something at the back of Il-Su’s memory.
“Brock?” he said.
Brock Garcia was a renowned beauty ViewToober. He was mostly known for his good looks and makeup routines, as well as self-care content. His skill in gaming was absolute trash, but Il-Su knew him from getting paired with him twice in a Gallant Stand II survival tournament that’d been done for charity.
Brock was cowardly, completely lacking in skill, and more squeamish than an anemic, churchgoing mouse. Unfortunately, he was very charismatic, fairly handsome, and had grown on Il-Su despite him having had to carry him through both events.
Normally Brock didn’t look like this. He was a swarthy man of Mexican descent, and while fit, hadn’t lent himself much to gains, instead focusing on a slender build. Apparently he’d played with the character creation system more than most players had.
“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, looking embarrassed.
“Great, you both know each other,” the woman said. “Can I bash his brains in now?”
Il-Su narrowed his eyes at her, but Brock made sure he was planted solidly between them. Il-Su’s aim was good enough to still make the shot, but he wanted to see where this was heading.
“We need him,” Brock said.
“We definitely don’t. I already have two kills. Four more down, and we’re good. We’re halfway done if we whack these two.”
“‘Whack?’” Slider said in disbelief. “What are you, a million years old?”
“Old enough to have gone through puberty,” the woman said with a smirk. “Your balls dropped yet?”
“All the way down your mom’s throat last night.”
The woman rolled her eyes and hefted her club, but otherwise made no move forward.
“We can team,” Brock said. “All four of us. We head to Mid, and hold out there.”
Apparently some of Il-Su’s lessons had stuck with Brock, even if he was dead wrong on his assessment.
“If we head to Middle,” Il-Su said patiently, “enemies will eventually come to us. There were no fortifications to hold, nothing to defend, no objective. People will just inevitably gravitate to us. I’d rather be out on the hunt, getting the drop on them before they know where we are.”
That, and having two extra people to take care of would be bothersome. Having to both cultivate Slider into a killer so he could get two more points was difficult. Doing so while keeping an eye out for betrayal the entire time was harder still. But adding two more people onto that?
“We should do it,” Slider said.
“Are you insane?” Il-Su hissed.
“Dude, that’s Pegacorn.”
“Who’s ‘Pegacorn?’”
“She is,” Slider said, pointing to the obvious candidate that both filled the categories of ‘she’, and someone with hair ridiculous enough to call herself ‘Pegacorn.’
“No, I meant, who is Pegacorn in a greater context. I’ve never heard of her.”
“Yeah, because you’ve been too busy defending your rep after your crashout with Sami to be paying attention to leaderboards. She’s the new big thing in Gallant Stand II since Pledge fell apart.”
Il-Su narrowed his eyes and inspected Pegacorn. The way she held her weapon, kind of lazily, but noticed it was more at rest. She was conserving strength so she could get it ready for when violence started.
She had presented a problem for him in their brief fight as well. She knew how to use that club. And from the way it was designed, may have actually crafted it herself.
“Do either of you have a Pact?” Il-Su asked.
Now it was Pegacorn’s turn to look suspicious. “Why do you want to know?”
“Because I need to know what potential allies bring to the table.”
“Do you have a Pact?”
He sighed. “Yes, of course I do. I was probably the first player to get one.”
“Everyone knows that was GrandTheftOtter.”
“Okay, second,” he amended with some annoyance.
She paused, considering. “Yes, I have a Pact.”
“What is it?”
She snorted. “I’m not sharing that.”
Well, at least she wasn’t as stupid as her hair made her look. He didn’t know if intelligence was a point in her favour or against her, though.
He really didn’t want to have to deal with these people. The best case scenario would be if he was the only survivor of this ridiculous ‘tournament.’ Well, him and Slider. He wasn’t a monster.
Allies just couldn’t be trusted. Everyone would be working their own angle. And streamers were creatures of ego. As one old streamer had once said, these were the type of people who woke up everyday and hit the ‘go live’ button to an audience of thousands just for them.
At the end of the day, every single one of them would be looking out for themselves. Not just to survive today, but also tomorrow. And do it in such a way so that their followers would worship them for it.
He opened his mouth, ready to reject her offer, when Holt stepped in and ruined everything.
A screen opened up over them, hovering just under the island, Holt’s face projected downwards. He still had that mysterious fury in his eyes, but his lips were turned into a cruel smile.
“Good news, everyone,” he said. “I’m changing the rules again. We’re down to sixteen competitors in the arena. Everyone has thirty minutes to make it to Mid. Anyone who doesn’t get there in time won’t be identifiable afterwards.
“What’s more, this will now be a team event! I was inspired from listening in on a certain little asshat. Everyone is encouraged to make a team of four. Anyone who fails to be in a team of four will not be able to enter the safe zone that is Mid.”
Il-Su hissed out a string of swear words, and Pegacorn didn’t look thrilled either.
Holt winked, and Il-Su felt as if that had been just for him. The window winked out of existence, and Il-Su very much had the desire to do violence on that man.
“Well, that settles that,” Slider said. “Guess we’re a team now?”
Pegacorn spat on the ground, and hoisted her club onto her shoulder. “Might take my chances elsewhere.”
“Come on,” Brock said. “We need him. He’s skilled.”
“He’s also a target. Everyone’s going to be coming for him. And he’s pissed off Holt somehow. Do you want to be on the receiving end of that by associating with him?”
Brock hesitated, glancing at Il-Su, and then looking up to the island in the sky hovering over their heads.
“We were never friends,” Il-Su said, not sure why he was saying it. Now he needed allies, and his first instinct was still to push people away. “We just knew each other from a pair of charity events.”
“Charity events you carried me through. Taught me how to defend myself. You didn’t treat me like a burden.”
Il-Su distinctly remembered thinking Brock was exactly that at the time. He wisely kept his mouth shut.
“Fine. If you’ll take me, I’m in.”
He picked up the two-handed sword from the dead streamer he’d killed earlier. It was beginning to show signs of rust, and no one had sharpened it in a while. It figured. Streamers wouldn’t know the first things about weapon maintenance and how to care for steel.
He handed it to Brock, who took it with shaky hands. Still, he held it more or less straight, and in such a way that showed he remembered some of what Il-Su had taught him on the basics of swordplay once upon a time.
“I’m still not convinced,” Pegacorn said.
Il-Su shrugged. “Look at it this way. We team up now, and then when everyone else is dead, you have the chance to stab me in the back. Get yourself those extra lives.”
She walked directly up to him until she was only a few inches from his face. His every instinct was to draw a weapon and attack, or dance back a few steps. He suppressed the urge, willing his body and posture loose. No need to show weakness.
“When I kill you,” she said, “we’ll be standing like this. None of your backstabbing bullshit. I won’t repeat SamiRai’s mistakes with you. But I also won’t drop to your level.”
He smiled. “So, team for now?”
Her face twisted with annoyance. “Team.”
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