Defending Earth (In the System Book #3): LitRPG Series Page 8

  For now. Over time, the number of first players will shrink, the list of suspects will narrow, and my status as a heretic will be in danger of being revealed. At the very least, I will be faced with questions that I’ll struggle to answer. So, before that happened, I’d have to become a piece that couldn’t be easily swept off the board…

  * * *

  “How is your health?”

  “Thank you, Major, I’m not complaining.” I chuckled when I discovered my visitor holding a bag of oranges. “You’re not wearing a protective suit? What about the quarantine?”

  “What kind of quarantine is this, anyway?” he wrinkled his nose. “A formality to make the doctors feel better. You just need to wait for the test results. I’ll be honest, we did consider a global quarantine, but it was considered impractical. At least, until there’s a reason.”

  But then it would be too late... I guess everyone understood that. Damn… Looking at it that way, the situation became even more ‘fun’.

  “The goblins have been playing the Game for centuries, but they’ve never heard of epidemics. The gods also claim that the danger is minimal… Anyhow, what brings you here? Is it time for a serious conversation?”

  “We’ll talk tomorrow, when you’re released. I’ve just brought the papers you’ll need to read, a form to fill out, and some questions our analysts have compiled.”

  “I’ve already submitted a report, haven’t I?”

  “For the mission. However, we are interested in events that have occurred since your initiation. Information about other players, gods, skills, the System, anything and everything. Yes, you’ve submitted a report, but our analysts believe that you... avoided certain topics.”

  “Your analysts are undoubtedly right.”

  “That’s why I decided to visit you in person, instead of sending this via the post. Here, have a read.”

  “What is it?” I asked automatically.

  “An amnesty decree signed by the President himself. This is a certified copy, and I can’t leave it with you since it’s a secret document.”

  This wasn’t a license agreement that no one ever reads, therefore, I couldn’t rely on a verbal description. I ran my eyes over the page, focusing on the key points. As befits a legal document, it was written in a way to ensure that the reader would get a headache after a couple of minutes, but I understood the gist after reading it once. To put it simply, any crimes the players might have committed before yesterday were forgiven in advance and no longer mattered. Theoretically… Secret decrees were secret for this very reason, so that they could be conveniently ‘forgotten’. Furthermore, my homeland wasn’t the only country who could accuse me of crimes. Nevertheless, it was certainly a relief.

  “A very interesting document,” I said. “I suppose it will allow me to make some changes to my testimony.”

  On a whim, I ordered Bri to cling to my visitor and remember everything that happened as it moved around with him. It was a bit risky, but the ghost had proven to be a disciplined fellow, and I was certain that I’d see the major again soon. I had to hope that my vassal wouldn’t get lost anywhere. I’d experienced how clingy its tentacles were myself.

  “Okay, then I’ll say goodbye. You have the Internet, and I can see that you have a laptop, too. When you’re done, please send the reports to this email address.”

  “Sure thing.” I flexed my fingers, ready to compose a new version of the truth. I’d always wanted to be a writer, but my Literature teachers consistently gave me a pretty low grade. Well then.

  * * *

  The armchair was comfortable, but too soft, in my opinion. Difficult to leap up from in case of danger. For example, if the major decided to take a gun out of the drawer and shoot me in the head… I snorted and looked around. The office was well-furnished, almost luxurious, and, I suspected, chock-full of spy equipment. Even so, I didn’t spot any. Just like they hadn’t found my, um, equipment. My Mana Sense told me that Bri was hanging right behind the major, which meant that my spy had done its job. I hoped the ghost had remembered enough…

  A portrait of the current president hung on the wall. Unlike the United States, where good old traditions meant that old man Clinton had been in power for nearly 30 years, our presidents had changed one after another: Yeltsin, Putin, Medvedev, and now, Ivanov. The media claimed that this was very bad, leading to instability, inability to conduct a balanced international policy, and so on and so forth. Journalists are always dissatisfied with something.

  I shifted my gaze a little lower, focusing on the major sitting behind the massive desk. He appeared tired today.

  “Well, we’ve studied your reports, and I must admit they’re quite impressive. Especially the Healing. Of course, additional tests are required, but... we are interested in cooperation, and since you are here, I assume the interest is mutual?”

  “That’s right,” I said. “The only question is, what kind of cooperation.”

  Although I’d compromise on a lot if needed, it didn’t mean that I’d agree to any terms without haggling. On the contrary, such willingness would look highly suspicious. If you don’t bargain in such situations, you’re either an idiot or you’re planning to ditch your partners.

  “The president is currently preparing to address the nation. It has been decided that trying to hide the existence of ‘superheroes’ and the invading monsters will be counterproductive. Other countries will likely also make this information public soon, the only question is how soon and what form will it take?”

  “A sensible move, considering the circumstances.”

  “Your new report is much better, but you still left out several things. In particular, which god are you a follower of? Perhaps you don’t have a patron?”

  Despite the convenience of the latter option, it would be foolish to use it now. Many people knew that I had the Faith parameter, which was inextricably linked to the gods. On the other hand, naming one of the seven gods would be stupid. The lie would be exposed sooner or later, and could have unpleasant consequences.

  “Unfortunately, my patron forbade me to mention the name. I will die if I break my word. I also suspect that anyone who force me to speak won’t live long either.”

  “So, it’s not Inti after all?”

  I smiled and shook my head, indicating that I wasn’t prepared to answer such questions.

  “Most players don’t hide which faction they belong to. Perhaps you are one of the priests?”

  Well then, simple words weren’t enough. Obeying my order, Bri sunk its tentacles into the major and began to slowly draw out his life energy. It was another minor detail that I hadn’t mentioned in the reports. I couldn’t hide the raven, but having another ghost up my sleeve was useful.

  “I’ve already said that I can’t answer that question,” I began, and stopped in mid-sentence. “Are you feeling alright?”

  The major leaned on the table, breathing heavily as he tried to push himself back up. He didn’t possess any mana, so the process was going much faster and was, apparently, more painful. I ordered the ghost to stop, but it only obeyed when I commanded it a second time. Bri released the victim, came back and wrapped itself around my shoulders. Leaning across the table, I put my hand on the major’s shoulder and activated Healing. He looked visibly better.

  “My heart… Damn… I had it checked out less than six months ago.”

  There was the sound of running footsteps in the corridor, which stopped abruptly, and the door remained closed. Apparently, the observers realized that their help wasn’t required and had paused the response group.

  “Don’t kid yourself, it’s not your heart. It was a warning. The answers to some questions are better not known.”

  The major heaved a sigh a few minutes later. “Was that your Healing ability in action? Very effective stuff… I must admit, the people upstairs were particularly interested in this skill. By the way, you’re not afraid of going against your master’s wishes by saving me?”

  “I t
hink some sort of automatic defense was triggered. If one of the gods really wanted you dead, my intervention wouldn’t have changed anything. I simply removed the negative effects.”

  I could see that the major had many more questions, but he was in no hurry to ask them. My demonstration was meant to show that the gods could influence the environment through the players. However, if this was the case, such interventions were very rare. Otherwise, how would I have killed Jack?

  * * *

  “Shall we resume our negotiations?”

  “Certainly… The strategy regarding the players is currently being worked out, but the general principles have already been developed. To begin with, each ‘super’ must be registered and fill out a form, like the one you completed in hospital. After that, the player is placed under secret surveillance, but isn’t restricted in their actions, as long as they stay within the law.

  “You’ll let someone possessing supernatural powers go so easily?”

  “Of course, certain proposals will be made to them, but this is a free country. What’s the point of forcing people you can’t control to cooperate? Plus, no one has yet refused. Your missions are dangerous, so the state’s help wouldn’t hurt. Even if the others don’t have high-level bags like yours, we have something to offer them.”

  “Like what?”

  “Protection from the law. Training grounds. Instructors. Psychological help. The ability to legally sell any loot, risk-free. Money, finally! Although the budget of the new department is still being decided, funding won’t be a problem. Money has been allocated from the reserve fund, by personal order of the President.”

  “What’s the status of the players who have agreed to cooperate?”

  “Most have signed a contract for military service. One can also be employed as a civilian specialist. In your case, however, this is not desirable, since there will be a number of restrictions on weapon transportation...”

  I closed my eyes for a second, calculating my options one last time. I had already made my decision — if I was going to cooperate with the government, it made no sense to limit myself to half measures. The whole world had split into ‘us’ and ‘them’. In this case, best to demonstrate that I had clearly chosen a side. The lack of shoulder straps would be only an illusion of freedom. After all, I could defend my interests in any status, and if something went wrong, what would keep me from running?

  People who dig in their heels in such a situation, demonstrating their pride and independence, are just greedy, self-satisfied idiots. Lone wolves are the first to be killed. But they’re useful, for compared to them, loyalty and a willingness to cooperate look more convincing.

  By setting my sights on the altar, I had set myself a goal that made these minor limitations miniscule in comparison. I’ll have to obey orders? Doesn’t matter, as long as I’m not being sent to my death. I’ll get less money when selling my bounty? My life is worth more. I’ll be used by the government? Two can play that game, and I certainly know what I want…

  The current situation was extremely simple and the goals were obvious. I needed access to modern weapons. I needed to keep my position in the Alliance. I needed to survive a bunch of small missions and return to the goblin city. Finally, I had to find a way to reach the temple first, passing through the hordes of undead…

  It sounded like suicide, but if I succeeded, I hoped to gain real freedom while retaining all the advantages of a player. True, I risked the wrath of the gods, but fearing death made no sense in my position.

  Cynicism aside, the global objectives of the state, which sought to protect its territories and citizens, did not contradict mine. I couldn’t avoid fighting all kinds of monsters, no matter where I went, so having the support of the authorities meant a lot.

  “What do you say?” the major broke the silence.

  “It’s a difficult question. As you know, I’m one of the Alliance leaders and one of the strongest players at the moment. I don’t mind joining the armed services, but I couldn’t obey other players with my status and experience. Plus, the rank of private... would be inappropriate.”

  “Very true. We have considered this matter and, having studied your list of skills, are prepared, in this instance, to award you the rank of lieutenant in the FSB and appoint you commander of a special group.” The major picked up a folder from his desk and took out several sheets of paper. “Shall we start from the start? You may have forgotten, but for outstanding personal qualities shown during military service, on the recommendation of your direct commander, you were awarded the rank of corporal. Congratulations.”

  “Corporal?” I chuckled and took the proffered piece of paper. The order looked genuine, it was stamped, signed and dated… Almost three years ago, but they hadn’t gone so far as to artificially age it. Or hadn’t gone yet? Their approach seemed very thorough.

  “This is just the beginning.” The major waved the folder at me. “Next order. Due to your position as an army medic, you were awarded the rank of junior sergeant. Congratulations.”

  “I serve Russia!” I proclaimed automatically, accepting the new piece of paper. According to the documents, I’d only been a corporal for a month. What a fast-paced career. “I suppose that’s not all?”

  “Yes, you have a good memory. In honor of Victory Day, for your impeccable service and outstanding personal qualities, you were promoted to sergeant.”

  I skimmed through the third order. This was getting interesting. “How did I become a staff sergeant?”

  “You didn’t. For your meritorious service, you were sent for further training at the Federal Security Service and, based on your study results, received a new officer rank. Congratulations, Lieutenant.”

  I was developing a taste for this, but, alas, it was the last order in the folder. It looked like I wasn’t going to be made captain today. “Just wondering, what if I had chosen the other option?”

  “You would have remained a private. In any case, your personal file is classified and all the documents have been removed from storage. But if someone persists, they will find traces.”

  “I see. All that’s left now is to negotiate and sign the contract?”

  * * *

  Despite my apprehension, I had negotiated quite good conditions. After a long bout of haggling, I joined the service as commander of the First Special Group. A captain, no less. This was all backdated, since a significant portion of the players believed that I’d long been working for the government, and I had no desire to dissuade them.

  A decent salary, flexible work hours, a high degree of freedom, a benefits package, the promise of future awards, an early pension, and an allowance for my family in the event of my death. A dream job… In addition, the state paid 10,000 rubles for the head of each monster killed in the last mission. Not for the corpses, but for the elimination of a dangerous monster. It wasn’t much, but every bit helped. Considering the size of the pack compared to our group, my portion equaled 48,000 rubles.

  The trickiest part was the loot. Much had changed since the Middle Ages, and it would have been strange if the government didn’t try to get its hands on the ‘spoils of war’. The state didn’t make a grab for the System items and experience, not directly, at least, but I was told that I could sell the loot. A million rubles was promised for any F-ranked card. At an exchange rate of around 50 rubles to a dollar, that was only 20,000 dollars — 5 times less than the Americans were promising to pay. Seven and a half times less than what the Chinese government would pay. However, a promise wasn’t set in stone, and prices would inevitably go down as the number of players grew. Plus, money didn’t matter as much after a certain point.

  Nevertheless, the situation was different with the captives, for the state couldn’t allow its citizens to enslave intelligent beings. My pet raven was no longer a secret, and I was even promised a special permit for him.

  “A toast to mark the occasion?” Asked the representative of the ‘dark forces’, taking out a bottle of cognac, a lem
on and a couple of glasses.

  I had finally finished reading the newly printed document and signed it, feeling like I’d just sold my soul to the devil. Well, it wasn’t the worst deal of my life. “Sure.”

  Chapter 6. The Address

  NOW THAT THE CONTRACT was signed, I had to move to Moscow. Although the department was still being set up, it already had a housing fund that provided free apartments for the new recruits. Moreover, we were promised that this housing would become our private property after a year. For those of us who survived, I guess... It wasn’t overly generous, but I didn’t feel cheated. The dead have no need of riches, and I had no intention of dying.