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I fell silent
 
for a while. "You sure you won't miss?"

Taali smiled bitterly. "I've got bronze in the regional biathlon championship, in case you're interested."

I paused. Then I raised my head to the ceiling, "AI, you think you can hear me? Just for your information. If anyone learns what we've been talking about, this girl won't survive the night. So please don't grass her up. You'll kill her if you do."

The girl gave me a puzzled look. "You think?"

"Could be. AI is our god. He's omnipresent and omniscient. You never know whether he hears you or not."

I scrambled back to my feet. "As for your story... I understand. I'll see if I can help you. Just please don't
 
jump the gun, literally. You'll only give yourself away and won't avenge your sis."

"You really approve?"

"Well. I'm double dead, if you know what I mean. I can go out in the street and shoot whoever I want. I won't live less because of it—I'm gonna die in a week or two, anyway. On the other hand, I'm in a game and I'd love to stay here for good. Also, the rules are different here. These guys," I gestured at the three Elven graves, "they hurt you and were punished. Instantly. They were hurt too. They lost their money and gained a few enemies. And no amount of statesmen's mandates can help them. That's fair. I like it. So I'd do the same if I were you."

At that moment, the three Elves crashed back in, albeit barebellied. Talk of the devil. Seriously, had they made a decent comeback, we'd have probably given them the chance to pick up their stuff. Instead, the kids were craving revenge. Without saying a word, they cast paralysis on both of us and showered us with fire arrows and fire balls.

The kids didn't seem to have learned their lesson. With a roar, Hummungus charged. Stripped of their stuff, the Elves lasted exactly half the time. My PK counter didn't grow: the kids had attacked us first turning the kill into defense and bringing me three more personal badges.

I spat on the floor. "What a bunch of jokers."

"Prats," Taali corrected me. Seeing my puzzled look, she explained, "They are
 
Pratz
, a PK clan. They have their own castle in the neutral lands. Most of them perma players. A nice collection of scumbags. Officially the clan's name is
 
Bratz
 
but everybody calls them
 
Pratz
. I think they'll call in reinforcements. We'd better move it."

"Affirmative."

I PM'd Bug telling him I wasn't coming back and that he should stick to our plan. Then I glanced at the girl. "It's probably better if I take you to town. Before you get into more trouble."

She raised her eyebrows. Then, for the first time since I'd known her, she beamed. "Go ahead then, my little Necro. Guide me."

After the dungeons' dim light, the soft glow of the setting sun blinded me. As I blinked it away, the Pratz jammed my message box with threats. Thanks a bunch, kids. You've saved me the trouble of marking your names. I blacklisted the eager boy scouts in a specially created folder: now the game interface would highlight their names in red to warn about potential danger.

The Drow
 
Princess—you couldn't confuse her operatic voice with anyone else's—cried out from where the cages stood. Her white fingers clutched the cage bars. I followed her gaze. A High Elf was walking along the cages finishing off the prisoners one by one. Three bodies already lay on the filthy floor when the player approached his next victim, shaking his bloodied sword clean. What did he think he was doing?

"Wait here, I'll be right back," I said to Taali and ran, adding under my breath, "Hummungus, keep an eye on her!"

I made it in the nick of time. I grabbed the Elf's sword hand and jerked him round to face me. "Wait. Why are you doing this?"

The Elf looked me up and down, assessing my shabby garb, then freed his hand in one smooth motion.

His strength parameter had to be much higher than mine. Which made sense: not only was he a warrior, but he was also up to his balls in most amazing gear. His matching armor had to have cost him a fortune; his sword gleamed purple, its blade entwined with runes. He had to either be a donator or belong to some top clan which helped equip their members. He was five levels below me but it didn't seem to bother him much.

"Fuck off! It's my quest. I get one gold per head and faction relationship improvement. There's nothing for you to catch here. They only respawn once every twenty-four hours. I've been genociding them for three days now."

"I have a quest with them, too. Since this morning."

The warrior smirked. "That's your problem, dude." He shrugged and turned away, raising his sword.

Dickhead. I grabbed his shoulder again. "Wait."

He frowned, threat in his glare.

Hurriedly I counted off the coins. Easy come, easy go, whatever. Trust me to take it from some scumbag only to give to another.

"Here," I handed him the money. "Seventeen cages. Seventeen gold. That'll break you even. No touching the prisoners now."

Quest completion alert! You've completed a secret quest: A Friend in Need.

Donate the lion's share of your property to help those in trouble.

Reward: A Smile of Fortune. Luck will follow you around for one full week. It will increase your crit chances, send you rare loot and do various other things associated with good luck and Gods' assistance.

The Elf took the money and thoughtfully weighed it in his hand, casting appraising glances at me. Finally, he came to a decision and dumped the money into his bag.

"Well, if you're so rich and desperate to keep them alive, you'd better come up with thirty more gold and I'll think about it. Happy with that? If you aren't, do yourself a favor and fuck off."

He was enjoying it, staring at me with a smirk as he stood there rocking from foot to foot. He tapped his sword against an armored leg, its blade sending sunspots into my eyes.

Apparently, by paying him off I came across as weak and eager. My tatty looks and the absence of a clan badge plus the ease with which I'd parted with the money made the guy think he was in luck for a loaded wuss.

I scowled. "Listen you, shit for brains. You've got your money, now piss off. If you don't, there're always other ways."

He just laughed. "There are indeed."

He buried one steel boot toe in my stomach sending me flying a dozen feet.

You've been attacked by another player! Self-defense doesn't affect the PK counter!

Good news, yeah. Twenty percent life vanished into thin air. It hurt, and it was wrong. Especially as it wasn't some clever combat trick but a regular kick. It smelled of real trouble.

From the cages, the bear bellowed and went for him. The Elf didn't budge. He pursed his thin angry lips and threw the heavy shield onto one arm.

The bear rammed him but the player deflected the blow with his shield and stayed on his feet. Immediately he parried with the sword, knocking off 5% hits in one lunge. Jesus. That way he'd smoke Teddy as well. I started casting everything I had as fast as I could, all my arsenal. DoT, DoT, Deadman's Hand, Life Absorption, Life again, and again. Taali came running. She tried to heal the bear not knowing that ordinary cleric healing spells didn't work for a zombie. Seeing this, the girl grabbed her sword and attacked the Elf from behind. Was she really crazy or just a good friend who'd take your side without first finding out who was right and who was wrong?

We did get the better of him in the end. He was tough as nails, no doubt about that. Donators were tops. By the end, I had no mana left; even Teddy looked much worse for wear, his life hovering at 25%. As the warrior died, he gave me a memorizing glare full of promise.

You have killed a player of the Faction of Light!

You relationship with the Dark Alliance has improved!

The killed player has 12 points on his PK counter!

A cautious
 
bastard. He chose his victims well. I was lucky I'd made thirty levels in two days. I'd been immune to PK until earlier that morning, and already had had three fights. If I'd taken my time leveling like everybody else, my PK counter would have kept growing with every skirmish.

Very well, mister donator, let's have a look at your assets. Four to one that you drop something worth our while.

I walked over to his grave and touched it. Gold clinked as I became about sixty coins richer. Forty gold net gain. Being a PK definitely paid, no wonder young players couldn't help it. He dropped no clothes, unfortunately, only a name badge.

I received a PM. 
You're toast.

He didn't mince words, did he? Looked like I got myself a stubborn and dangerous enemy. I knew I shouldn't have provoked him but leaving his threats without an answer really wasn't kosher. So I trolled him a little:

Awesome sword, THNX. Perfect for me.

He responded with a cluster of F-words. I made a mental note of his ability to lose his cool. Then I blacklisted him. His name was Tavor. I was going to remember that.

Taali came up to me, looking concerned. "What's going on here?"

"Nothing, really. Just a lowlife who saw I had money and wanted to relieve me of it."

"That's not good. Did you see his clan badge? Forest Cats. A big rich clan with a very bad name. Normally no one would mess with them. Problems are guaranteed."

I thought about it. She was right. Not good. But did I think I could've done it differently if I could replay the whole thing? Probably not. I just couldn't see a kiss-and-make-up scenario there.

"One problem at a time," I said. "He didn't notice you at first and then he only saw your back. I don't think he had time to ID you. And don't worry about me. I level up while you sleep," I repeated an old joke.

Still concerned, she shook her head. "Let's leg it, then. It's getting hotter by the minute. First the Pratz and now the Cats."

"Wait up. I'll just close the quest."

I walked to the cages already ravaged by Tavor. There, the Elves' motionless bodies lay in blackening pools of blood. That really wasn't right. Taali's soundless steps echoed from behind me. She stopped by my side, silent. Then she took my hand and looked up into my face.

"You all right?"

"Yeah. Just sorry for them. I told them I'd come back and save them."

Her eyebrows jerked up. "Sorry for whom? They're just digit codes. Part of the program, that's all."

I swung round and locked her eyes with mine. "What am I gonna be, then, once I
 
turn perma—a digit code? Is that what you think? So that anyone can swat me like a fly? And how about those thousands already in the game? Are
 
they
 
just values in the server's binary code?"

Taali didn't answer, dumbfounded. "I... I really don't know," she whispered.

She turned to the bodies. Her eyes were different now. Then she crouched, slid her hand between the bars and covered a dead warrior's face with the end of his cape. "That's better. That's... right."

I nodded and hugged her waist. The girl didn't draw back. In fact, she cuddled up closer.

Quest completion alert: Last Honors.
 
Quest completed!

Pay funeral honors to dead heroes, whether friends or foes. One day someone might pause over your grave remembering the brave warrior's resting place.

Reward I: Doubles the time your grave stays at the cemetery before it decays.

Reward II: Your tombstone changes from granite to marble.

Taali shuddered. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who completed the quest.

"Congrats."

"Likewise,' the girl nodded.
 
"I love white marble."

I never felt comfortable about this kind of quest. I had a funny feeling AI generated them on the run, just by watching and evaluating our actions. Then it would either reward or punish them guided by his own particular brand of logic. Wonder if it was possible—just as a social experiment—to place a hundred million people in a virtual world, then use the stick-and-carrot policy to train them to conform to a particular society model? It sounded absurd. Or was it?

I opened the
 
bag and scooped out a couple dozen identical keys. Matching the key runes against each cage, I walked along freeing the prisoners one by one. As each Drow lowered his or her head in gratitude, I received more quest-completing messages:

Quest completion alert: Freedom Ain't Free. Quest completed!

Reward: Experience

Your relationship with the Dark Alliance has improved!

Your relationship with the Drow race has improved!

The diplomacy bar showed that my relationship with both had shifted from hatred to dislike. That way it would soon go up to neutral, making it possible for me to trade with the disciples of the Fallen One or even dare out on an occasional visit to their cities.

The bells dinged after I freed the first couple dozen of them.

Congratulations! You've reached level 30!

Racial bonus: +1 to Intellect

Class bonus: +1 to Intellect, +1 to Spirit

5 Characteristic points available! You now have 125 Characteristic points!

So! There I was, a gift-wrapped enigma, formally level 30, looking like a level-zero noob in his start-up garb. Specialization not chosen, characteristics and Talent points same as they were at level 5. A blank canvas. Never mind. Teddy's potential would last me another five or six levels. Soon it was time to end this hectic marathon. Then we could take a break, maybe even have a whole day off. We'd see the city, have a quality meal in the Three Little Pigs, and then we'd start pondering over choosing skills and distributing the points.