Defending Earth (In the System Book #3): LitRPG Series Page 4

  “Turn right and walk ten meters.” Announced the voice in my earpiece. Cursing, I unlocked my smartphone and turned off voice navigation. There were more than enough arrows on the walls. Five minutes later, I reached the designated car, brushed off the snow, and got in the back seat. The driver started the car without asking any questions. I didn’t say anything either, and tried to guess where we were going.

  “So, Ivan Vladimirovich,” the silence did not last long. “seeing as you have arrived in Moscow, does this mean that you have finally settled your affairs and are ready to cooperate?”

  I wasn’t too surprised. I’d left enough tracks in the last few days to give them time to prepare. I’d be disappointed if they hadn’t found me by now.

  “Of course, Captain.” Something snagged in my mind. Had I made a mistake? Hard to tell from the back of a man’s head, but the driver was in his thirties, and rank was closely related to seniority and availability of a suitable position. He was a bit old for a senior lieutenant, yet too young to be a major. “Where are we headed, if it’s not a secret? Not to Lubyanka, I hope?”

  I noticed that two more cars had pulled up behind us. Security, I suppose. Funny, I’d been waiting for this moment for so long, yet I didn’t feel overly nervous.

  “Wherever you want,” the man shrugged. “We can go to the hotel for now, or to a serviced apartment. We can go straight to the base. There’s no coercion, Vasily. I’m a major, by the way. Vladimir Ilyin, FSB.”

  So, I had been wrong. The officer flashed his ID at me over his shoulder, but I only focused on the rank. I wouldn’t have been able to identify a fake anyway.

  Attention! The first defense crew has failed!

  Attention! Local mission No. 7 has been updated. Difficulty level has increased!

  Would you like to accept the optional E-ranked mission to protect your home location? (0/100)

  Yes/No

  Mission duration: 3 hours.

  Time remaining: 1 hour 59 minutes and 55 seconds

  “Nice to meet you,” I murmured, reading the message. “Let’s not waste any time, Major. Have you noticed anything strange yet?”

  “Do you mean the local missions?” The driver asked as he listened to something. “Yes, I’ve been informed. At least eleven ingress points have been registered across Russia and the CIS, but, as you know, getting a location is difficult. We don’t have many players, and they are transported butt naked, pardon my French. Not always to inhabited locations, where they can quickly contact us and request support. Your presence here could help a lot.”

  “Sure thing,” I said. “You know about my bag, right? One of the missions has failed, so it’s highly likely that I’ll be whisked away to God-knows-where in two hours’ time. I’d like to get some modern weapons before then, as a sign of our future cooperation.”

  “Which mission has failed?”

  “The seventh one.”

  The FSB officer swore, said something into the radio about a helicopter, and the car turned sharply back toward the airport. It looked like I’d be flying again.

  * * *

  Sometimes, when it’s truly necessary, the wheels of bureaucracy can turn very quickly. The helicopter was waiting by the time we arrived. The flight itself took about half an hour, then I was quickly unloaded and brought to a room where everything had already been prepared. There wasn’t much time left, so we had to hurry.

  There was a flurry of activity at the base, which was located somewhere outside the city. The major introduced me to Senior Sergeant Bykov, Head of the Armory, and ran off somewhere. In the literal sense of the word.

  “Sorry, but I’m not going to offer you the Ratnik gear.” The manager sighed. “It’s very high-tech, needs to be adjusted to fit you, and you need time to get used to it, otherwise it’ll do more harm than good. Since there’s no time to train, it’s better if you take something classic and familiar: a bulletproof vest, a helmet, and so on.” Bykov pointed to an obviously pre-prepared set of clothing and gear. Slightly outdated, but still very high quality, and much lighter than the Ratnik. I hadn’t seen one myself, but I’d heard that the Ratnik weighed over twenty kilograms. I suspected that they didn’t even have it onsite.

  “I’ll have the classic set, it’ll come in handy.” I put the stuff in the bag, catching the manager’s slightly surprised look. It seemed he’d only heard of this kind of magic.

  Administrative positions like Head of the Armory were usually occupied by warrant officers, so a sergeant in this position seemed a little strange. But the locals knew better. Bykov looked to be about twenty-five years old and was very confident, so I assumed that he did his job well.

  “Walkie-talkies?”

  “Basic ones will do,” I agreed. “Ten, preferably already configured. And everything else on the list: first aid kit, shovel, flares and such.”

  The sergeant nodded to one of the aides, who hurried away.

  “What about weapons?” I asked, getting straight to the point. This wasn’t a store, so most of the goods were in boxes, yet there were plenty of interesting things lying around.

  “Here’s an AK-12,” he said, laying a machine gun on the table. “I know where you served, so you should be able to figure out how to use it. Or would you prefer an AK-74M? We won’t be able to give you any of the real classics, sorry.”

  Something big appeared to be going on, if they were willing to give me a weapon before we’d signed anything. A civilian with no papers, signatures, permits, and so on. Just because a major had said so... even if he was the Deputy Head of the department. This willingness was wonderful but also stressed me out. Let’s see how far they were willing to go.

  “No need, I’d prefer a Val,” I announced. “I’ll figure out how it works, too, and it’s much quieter. Five magazines to start with, the weight isn’t an issue for me.”

  “There you go,” The sergeant took what I’d asked for from one of the drawers. “Will you take the PSS pistol?”

  “Yes,” I replied. I didn’t really need it, but I saw no reason to refuse a freebie. A store is no sore, and I had a feeling that most of the weapons would be written off by the end of the battle. I certainly wasn’t going to drag everything back to base. “Some grenades, too, a dozen F-1s and the same number RGNs.”

  “You want a ‘Cranberry’ as well, then?” the sergeant snorted. Very funny.

  “Of course,” I said without batting an eyelid. “Two. A store is no sore, plus, who knows what I’ll meet over there. Can you also throw in a dozen mines, explosives and detonators?”

  “Do you even know how to use this stuff? The major will have my head if you blow yourself up.”

  “The major said that I was to be given whatever I asked for. Don’t worry, I have the necessary skill. More than one, so I’ll take a sniper rifle, too. Vintorez, if you have it.”

  “We have everything,” the ‘weapons fairy’ said grimly. “Even tanks, but we’re definitely not giving you one. It won’t fit in the bag. Any other requests? A machine gun, perhaps?”

  “Thank you, a machine gun will be very useful. A light one, please.”

  The sergeant muttered something under his breath that sounded like “effing Rambo”, but he brought me the machine gun. It was a Kord, even though I’d expected something more ancient, like the RPK-74. His assistants had already brought the anti-tank grenade launchers. Damn, this was getting serious.

  “I’m guessing you have more requests?” Looking at his sullen face, I hesitated to ask about the flamethrowers.

  “That’s right,” I nodded. “It’s a group mission, so I’ll need another ten submachine guns and the same number of handguns. Something simple. Five cases for each. Not just ordinary bullets, but armor-piercing and incendiary ones as well. And..”

  “Yes?” The sergeant kept his expression carefully blank this time.

  “I have a bad feeling about this mission. Do you have any winter clothing? And a parachute, please.” I didn’t stop at that, of course, adding
all sorts of other trifles. Fitting everything into the bag was a challenge, but I managed. Despite the fifty-fold weight decrease, the bag weighed quite a lot in the end. It also turned out that the sergeant didn’t have a parachute. Lies, lies everywhere...

  “Do I need to sign for it?”

  “No,” The sergeant snorted, gesturing toward the cameras. “Everything is being recorded, and you don’t have the authority to sign out such things. The commanding officers will do that.”

  The major returned fifteen minutes before the start, delivering the sad news that I wouldn’t have any partners. Most of the government-sponsored players had already left on missions, with three volunteers going on the seventh mission. Some had returned, but they couldn’t help for several reasons. Fine, I didn’t need their help anyway.

  “Here you go. This is a satellite phone, it should get a signal everywhere.” He then handed me a notebook. “Here are our contacts, who to call and so on. This is a beacon that will help us to locate you if the phone doesn’t work. Rapid response teams have been set up all over the country, ready to fly to the site of the breach in ten minutes. But... you know. We’re still testing the system.”

  I understood. While I could count on help in a densely-populated area, in other situations, the battle would be over by the time the cavalry arrived. It was more of a clean-up crew than backup. The threat hadn’t yet reached the level for them to weave a tight net. No one was going to use military aircraft without a really good reason.

  “Thank you, Major,” I said, listening to the rest of the instructions with half an ear.

  I pulled up the interface and looked thoughtfully at the numbers floating before me.

  Time remaining: 10 minutes and 21 seconds

  Spots occupied: (0/100)

  No volunteers at all this time, and I couldn’t blame them. Ten veterans had already perished. Taking out my smartphone, I left a short message in the team chat, then confirmed my participation in the mission. To hell with this lottery. I wasn’t going to sit and wait for my fate.

  “What machine gun? What anti-tank grenade launchers? Have you lost your mind, Sergeant?”

  * * *

  Silence fell a moment later, and when I opened my eyes, I found myself in the personal room. Damn. Had I really done it?

  Time remaining: 14 minutes 34 seconds

  The decision to leave ahead of time had bought me a few extra minutes. Now, I had not five but almost fifteen minutes to prepare for the fight and reach the menacingly glowing scarlet portal.

  Chapter 3. The Third Mission

  THE EXTRA TIME came in useful. I hadn’t changed ahead of time, only put what I didn’t want to lose in my bag. All my clothes remained at the military base, so I was transported to my private room practically naked. It just went to show that even though the mission would take place on our planet, this didn’t affect the usual restrictions.

  According to Alliance recommendations, most players had to leave the main set of clothes in the private room, precisely to avoid incidents such as this. Weapons were more difficult — not everyone had a spare, but it was easy to keep a card on you at all times. Of course, the System warned us about an approaching mission, but what if you were asleep, for example? What if you were drunk? Unconscious? Under arrest? During the first local mission, one of the participants had found herself in the middle of a busy street with her bare... hands. Not just hands, mind you. She hadn’t been arrested for indecent behavior only because the ‘yeti’ invasion had distracted the police, but... it was a horror movie, not an erotic one. Unlike the goblins, the yeti didn’t take any prisoners.

  “Let her mistake be an example to us all,” I muttered.

  Alright, it was no time for waxing lyrical. I pulled my new clothes out of the bag and began to dress as quickly as possible, like back in my army days. I preferred the products of Earth’s clothing industry this time. The multilayered winter uniform issued at the base looked more optimal. Even if I was dropped somewhere near the equator, I wouldn’t fry in a few minutes, but I could freeze to death somewhere out on the ice. As the saying goes, better to be covered in sweat seven times than in frost once!

  After a moment’s thought, I went with my old, tried and tested boots. Bulletproof vest, helmet… I also kept the System jacket, pulling it on over the vest thanks to its size. Tests had shown that the cards, despite their flexibility, were surprisingly tough and could stop an automatic bullet at point-blank range. I hadn’t had a chance to conduct such experiments myself, but communication allowed me to shift a lot of things to my allies. I put a tactical vest over the top, containing spare magazines, grenades and other ‘trifles’.

  Then came the weapons: machine gun over one shoulder, spear card up my sleeve, and a pistol at my belt as a last-ditch weapon. I felt a bit like a Christmas tree. I jumped up and down a few times, checking that I wouldn’t give myself away at every step. I didn’t feel as light as I used to, now that I was fully equipped.

  After making sure that I still had time, I unloaded some of the supplies that wouldn’t be useful in the upcoming adventure, such as food, clothes, a sleeping bag, and so on. Unlike last time, I wasn’t too nervous, considering my chances of returning to be quite high. If most of the groups had managed while armed with only bladed weapons, I shouldn’t have any problems. On the other hand, I was heading to a place where the last team had failed.

  Time remaining: 6 minutes and 32 seconds.

  Rummaging in the bag again, I pulled out an airtight container and opened it, removing a hefty statue of a raven from inside. I set it on the floor, flicked the lighter, and ran the flame over the surface. Nothing happened for twenty or thirty seconds, then the stone cracked, letting the flames inside, and the whole shell shattered into pieces, releasing the prisoner.

  The raven took a quick glance around, and after making sure that nothing dangerous was happening, rolled over onto his back, tucked in his claws and spread out his wings, playing dead. What a faker.

  Attention! Ingression registered in the private room!

  Transport the creature to a random location in your world?

  Yes/No

  I simply closed the window. Apparently, paranoia was becoming an integral part of my character. It wouldn’t do to forget that my phylactery was quite near, and the raven could make a mistake with his passion for crystals. I went into the cult settings and looked at his specifications again.

  Legion

  Status: System creature, Chaos creature, monster.

  Type: Silver.

  Creature Rank: D.

  Level: 1.

  Danger: medium.

  Specifications:

  Strength: 3.

  Agility: 2.

  Intelligence: 6.

  Vitality: 5.

  Stamina: 9.

  Stability: 57.

  Perception: 16.

  Luck: 20.

  Additional Parameters:

  Main souls: 4.

  Number of soul fragments: 118.

  Merge: 60%.

  Control: 44%.

  Wisdom: 11.

  Features:

  — Three-legged Crow Blood — this creature is distantly related to a mythical being.

  — Affinity with Fire — the creature possesses powerful fire magic.

  — Development Potential — the creature’s body will develop over time.

  — Nascent Soul — the creature has reached the stage where the physical body has become unnecessary for continued existence.

  Hidden Properties:

  — Servant of Order — the creature is part of the System.

  —Spawn of Chaos — the creature possesses powers originating from another source.

  — Heretic — the gods dislike this creature.

  Not bad. Even with a body, Legion was still able to leave his mortal shell, although he was now called a ‘nascent soul’ instead of a ‘ghost’. However, the System gave both translation options roughly the same weight. The term seemed to have come from Chine
se, and the ghost had clearly absorbed someone who had read a lot of the local novels…

  The downside was that the raven now needed not only mana, but ordinary food, air and water. Having absorbed the soul of the old owner, he couldn’t leave the physical shell for long, otherwise it would starve to death. Of course, Legion claimed that the body changed quickly under the influence of magic, but so far, this had severely restricted the ways in which he could be transported. Technically, my bag’s level didn’t allow me to transport living creatures since it was cold, dark, and there was no air. However, the plants I’d brought back the first time had partially sprouted, so the restriction could be overcome.