《The Pragmatist's Guide To Surviving The Apocalypse [A System Apocalypse, Battle Royale]》


 Chapter 1 – The Beginning Of The End

    The world ended not with a bang, but with a game show.


    It was a brisk, clear night when Earth was integrated into the system and John awoke to the sound of squealing.


    His wife had thought it would be a grand idea to buy a teacup pig as a pet. She had seen one in an online video and immediately fallen in love with them.


    It was a sentiment that John whole heartedly disagreed with as he was roused at approximately 3am to the sounds of scrabbling and squealing.


    Groggily he rolled out of bed, forsaking the warmth of the duvet cover for the frozen wastes of their over-priced, second floor apartment.


    The couple had hoped that they would be on the property ladder by this point in their lives, but as any millennial would attest, that was a luxury reserved predominately for the middle class and those with wealthy parents - in modern day society at least.


    These were the kinds of ponderous thoughts John usually had when he was rudely awoken by Truffle the teacup pig during the night, along with his lamentation of the rising cost of energy bills ¨C hence the low temperature of the room.


    He plodded across the bedroom carpet and gasped slightly as his feet touched the laminate flooring in their living room / kitchen.


    A small shadow with a thin, curly tail beat its cloven hooves against the front door, squealing and snorting as it desperately tried to escape. At seventeen inches tall and twenty pounds soaking wet, he had no chance of battering the door down, though this didn¡¯t deter the plucky little guy from trying all the same.


    The problem with owning a miniature farm animal when you lived in a second-floor apartment was oftentimes as simple as the call of nature. John and his wife didn¡¯t have a garden, and Truffle couldn¡¯t use a toilet. That was a bit of an issue.


    Anne, John¡¯s wife, had tried numerous times to teach the pig to use the toilet like a human, however, Truffle suffered from a vertical disadvantage and couldn¡¯t quite reach up to lift the lid.


    Any reasonable person might ascertain that by leaving the toilet seat up, Truffle¡¯s chances of using it would increase tenfold. However, Anne was not a reasonable person and she had made it her life¡¯s mission to berate John any time he forgot to put it down.


    Apparently it was man¡¯s solemn duty to close the lid and protect their female counterparts from ever having to sully their hands by touching one.


    Despite her oftentimes nonsensical behaviour, John loved his wife and it was that love that drove him to curse under his breath as he scooped up the little pig and opened the door.


    This was the third night in a row that Truffle¡¯s bowls had failed him and John had been left to, quite literally, pick up the pieces.


    Grabbing a dressing gown from the hook by the door and slinging it over his shoulders like a cape, John left the apartment and descended the stairs as goosebumps littered his exposed flesh.


    He exited the building and unceremoniously dumped the small pig onto the grass outside of their apartment building. However, this night Truffle didn¡¯t obediently do his business.


    The pig squealed even louder and began thumping the ground. For such a small animal, Truffle could make an embarrassing amount of sound when he wanted to, which was something the neighbours knew all too well.


    ¡°If you don¡¯t get that damn thing to shut the hell up I¡¯ll come down there and make it into the world¡¯s smallest bacon sandwich!¡± Joe, their downstairs neighbour, shouted as he slid his window open and shoved his partially bald head through it.


    ¡°You¡¯d know all about the world¡¯s smallest, Mr Parkinson,¡± John replied monotonously as he subconsciously rolled his eyes at the bitter old man.


    He knew, of course, that the man¡¯s outrage was completely justified in this instance, but that didn¡¯t make John like him any better.


    ¡°No respect,¡± Joe muttered to himself as he shook his head in the window, ¡°damn kids with their teacup pigs and their avocado toast, and you wonder why you can¡¯t afford a house deposit.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Mr Parkinson,¡± John replied, ¡°it¡¯s definitely all the avocado¡¯s fault. I take it that¡¯s the reason that you live in the same block as I do? Perhaps avocado addiction is becoming a bit of an epidemic?¡±


    Joe Parkinson slammed his window shut, leaving in a huff, and John¡¯s attention was pulled back towards the little pig who was now facing away from him and staring up at the sky.


    He was deathly quiet which, as anyone with a pet pig would tell you, was quite strange. John followed the pig¡¯s gaze, gasping once again, but this time not because of the cold flooring.


    A large, floating head with no hair and a blank facial expression lit up the night sky with its green, ethereal features. The ground shook suddenly and a nearby car alarm went off as John and Truffle silently stared.


    ¡°Honey, you¡¯ve been gone a long time,¡± Anne called in a hushed shout as she exited the building, ¡°is Truffle alright?¡±


    Neither John nor Truffle replied as they stared up into the sky. He wasn¡¯t sure if it was fear, shock, or sheer bewilderment that kept his feet firmly rooted in place, but that initial lack of movement might have just saved his life.


    The ground shook once again with a tremor that cracked the ground behind the family. John and Anne turned their heads at almost the exact same time as their apartment block began to implode and a jagged cracked formed, splitting the building in two as something large and metallic forced its way through the earth¡¯s crust right where their apartment block was.


    The walls broke apart with a thundering crack and the front door exploded outwards, splinters narrowly missing John¡¯s face as the wood popped under the pressure of the falling building.


    ¡°What¡¯s all that racket!¡± Joe Parkinson shouted in a gruff and irritated voice as he stuck his head out of the window once more.


    Those were the last words he would ever say as the shuddering building collapsed and a loose roofing tile fell from above to smash the elderly man in the back of the skull with a sickening crunch.


    Anne shrieked as blood splattered her dressing gown and legs. The metallic structure rose higher and higher, shattering the brick falls of the building and flinging dust and debris everywhere. It resembled an archway, but it was much taller than most and the metallic material it was made from glimmered in a way that hurt John¡¯s eyes.


    As the strange object forced its way through the Earth¡¯s crust it took out two whole blocks of buildings, roads, and anything else that blocked its path to ascension. John, still rooted to the spot, watched on with horror as family homes, cars, roads, and people were thrown miles into the air whilst the floating green head in the sky gazed impassively at the carnage.


    If John, his wife, or Truffle had been even a few feet closer to their apartment building, they would¡¯ve been killed. The fact that they had been saved by the pig¡¯s infuriating lack of bowel control was not lost on John and became even more pertinent as the flying rubble crashed back down to earth.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Craters erupted all around as building fragments, cars, and concrete hit the ground with the force of a bombing run. A stray piece of shrapnel slid past John¡¯s arm but, though it hurt like hell, he was too numb to react.


    Bodies fell to the ground and he stared in abject horror as his neighbours quite literally exploded with the impact. Gore and blood filled the streets and further stained Anne¡¯s white dressing gown. The whole ordeal gave an entirely new meaning to the song It¡¯s Raining Men.


    It all happened in a few horrifying moments and was followed by an immediate and crushing silence that not even car alarms or sirens dared to break. John took a deep breath, his heart pounded as he looked at the wreckage in disbelief.


    He barely had time to take in the scene before the green head opened its mouth for the first time and a booming voice bellowed out across the city so loudly it caused John physical pain as he instinctively cupped his ears.


    ¡°People of Earth,¡± it boomed in a deep, monotonous voice, ¡°congratulations, you have been chosen to host the 999<sup>th</sup> Inter-Planetary System games. This is a tradition which has spanned millennia and you should be honoured to take part.


    ¡°In a few moments the torii gates will open allowing ten percent of your population to volunteer as contestants. I urge you all to attempt to enter your closest gate as any who are left behind will be exterminated.


    ¡°Each gate can only admit a limited number of people and will close in exactly five Earth minutes. Do your best, contestants. The entire universe is watching. It is with great pride that I now officially announce the commencement of Battle Royale Earth!¡±


    With the final word the floating head disappeared and the strange structure that had destroyed the local area burst into bright, violet light.


    Now that John could look at it properly, it did resemble a Japanese torii gate with a glowing, almost wet-looking, portal in the middle. However, in place of the red, curved wood which should have bisected the top of the two cylinders, there was a black, rectangular piece of metal with the number five sunken into it.


    The number glowed in a scarlet hue and reminded John of the numbers on an old Casio watch from the nineties.


    That number must be the countdown. John thought, his mind racing.


    ¡°What do we do?¡± Anne asked her husband, trembling and wide eyed.


    He had always been the main decision maker in their relationship. His wife was many things, but calm under pressure, she was not.


    John scooped up Truffle whilst he thought for a moment. Logically he had five minutes to make his choice, but he wouldn¡¯t need that much time. The choice was obvious. The floating head had massacred his entire apartment building just to give its gate a place to sit, there was no doubt in John¡¯s mind that a creature that powerful could and would eradicate all life on Earth. It had said as much and he had no reason to doubt its words.


    Therefore, the choice was simple.


    ¡°We go through the gate,¡± he said stoically, gazing up at the large, purple portal before them.


    ¡°But what if it¡¯s lying?¡± Anne asked as she visibly shook in the cold night air, the blood of their neighbours soaking her skin.


    ¡°It just killed god knows how many people in a matter of seconds,¡± John replied grimly, ¡°if someone points a gun at you do you question whether there¡¯s a round in the chamber? No, you just do what they say so you don¡¯t get shot. So, we go through the gate.¡±


    Anne looked at him thoughtfully as tears crested the edges of her green hazel eyes. John had always thought that they sparkled so beautifully when she was sad. It was morbid, he knew, to think that his wife was especially beautiful when she was upset, but the way they glittered as the thin layer of moisture hung there, just before the tears dropped, was simply breath taking.


    ¡°J-John,¡± she stuttered quietly, as if struggling to sound the words out. ¡°What if whatever is through that gate is¡­ worse than death?¡±


    His eyes widened as he looked at the woman he loved. His heart hurt, stung by how easily she had inferred what was essentially a suicide pact. Even if she was right, it was surely worth the risk. She had to know that deep down even if she was terrified.


    ¡°There is no hope in death darling,¡± he breathed, barely able to find his voice, ¡°but through that gate, no matter what awaits us, if we¡¯re together¡­ if we¡¯re alive¡­ then-¡±


    He didn¡¯t get the chance to finish his sentence as a family of three sprinted past him hysterically, nearly knocking him to the ground. He recognised them, the Johnsons. They were good people; Frank had helped him fix his car when it had broken down last winter.


    Without hesitation the two men and their child dived into the purple light of the torii gate and vanished. It was as if they had been teleported away - where to was anyone¡¯s guess.


    Immediately after their departure John heard an electronic clicking sound which rang out three times. He turned back to Anne to see her face begin to pale as the cresting tears began to slide down her delicate, blood splattered cheeks.


    ¡°Where did they go?¡± She asked slowly.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter,¡± John replied hastily as he grabbed his wife¡¯s hand with his free one, his other still holding the pig firmly under one arm. ¡°The talking head said that the gate would only let a certain number of people through so we need to hurry.¡±


    Anne pulled against his strong grip at first but it was a token effort. She was wide eyed and terrified but John knew that if he could just get her through the gate, even if he had to drag her through it, she would be ok. At least, if nothing else, she¡¯d be alive and they¡¯d be together.


    He turned back towards the torii gate and out of the top corner of his eyes noticed that something was different. Looking upwards he saw that the glowing number five on the crossbeam now read two.


    That¡¯s all we need, he thought as he led his reluctant wife towards the gate, we¡¯ve wasted three whole minutes arguing when we should have already gone through.


    As he approached the portal he could feel a soothing heat being cast out from its flowing, violet form. It really did resemble water, like a calm lake¡¯s surface before a storm.


    John didn¡¯t have a free hand with which to reach out, but part of him wanted to. He wanted to touch the strange liquid like a curious child. Instead, he would have to walk through it face first with Anne in tow, marching into the unknown.


    Under any other circumstance he¡¯d have never forced her to do something she wasn¡¯t comfortable with, but he had seen shock before and he knew that preserving life was always the best option.


    Maybe he was being selfish, but he couldn¡¯t bear the thought of losing her. So he walked purposely towards the portal.


    ¡°Stop!¡± A voice shouted from behind them.


    John turned back to see the barrel of a gun pointed at him. It was a black pistol with a flat top which he instantly recognised as a Glock 19.


    ¡°Back away from the portal buddy,¡± The stranger said shakily.


    He was a clean-shaven man in a police uniform and he had a wild expression in his shifty eyes. Something about the way he stood with one foot forward and a balanced centre of gravity told John that this man knew how to use his weapon. The cop uniform may have also helped to inform that conclusion.


    ¡°What seems to be the problem officer?¡± John asked.


    This had to be a case of mistaken identity or something. Though why anyone would continue performing their duties in the face of total annihilation was beyond him. Unless¡­


    ¡°The problem, pal, is that there are only two places left through that portal and I¡¯m taking one of them.¡± The police officer said matter-of-factly as he took a tentative step to the side of Anne, edging closer to the portal.


    John didn¡¯t take his eyes off the man though he felt his wife¡¯s hand tremble and he could hear her breathing quicken.


    The number on the gate, he thought as realisation dawned on him, it¡¯s not a countdown, it¡¯s the number of places available. We have to get through it no matter what!


    ¡°If you take that spot you¡¯ll be killing us!¡± John roared desperately at the officer.


    ¡°And?¡± He replied, a slight break to his voice, ¡°if you take those places I¡¯ll die. I¡¯m not the bad guy here, I¡¯m just trying to survive, exactly the same as you are.¡±


    ¡°What about my wife?¡± John retorted, an angry growl underpinning his words. ¡°What happened to saving the women and children first? Didn¡¯t you take an oath to protect and serve?¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t the fifties pal,¡± the officer snarled back, pointing the Glock firmly at John¡¯s head as he continued to circle them slowly. ¡°Modern women want equality and what¡¯s more equal than this? I¡¯m practically a feminist,¡± he snorted a harsh laugh that didn¡¯t reach his cold eyes.


    At this point John knew that if he didn¡¯t do something before the cop finished circling them then he and Anne would die. It was a foolish act to charge at a man holding a gun, but what choice did he have? He couldn¡¯t let it end here. He wouldn¡¯t allow his wife to be murdered by a genocidal alien overlord.


    Letting go of Anne¡¯s hand, he moved to shoulder barge the cop out of the way so that Anne could go through. She had to live. He¡¯d die for her if he had to and if he took a bullet, at least he¡¯d go out on his own terms instead of at the hands of a floating head in the sky.


    He took a deep breath and prepared to charge, a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. Then, just as he let go of Anne¡¯s hand, he felt something shove him forcefully to the side.


    He looked towards his wife with wide eyes as she gazed at him with both arms held out.


    ¡°Anne?¡±


    He fell, Truffle tucked under his arm, towards the torii gate. His skin touched the violet surface, it felt silky and warm.


    John stared at his wife in abject horror, the world slowing to a crawl, as she smiled lovingly at him. Tears crested her eyes, yet the hysteria was gone and she was no longer shaking.


    ¡°You have to live John. You can beat this, you can win!¡± She called after him as the portal took hold, dragging him into the abyss.


    His vision vanished and the image of his wife smiling at him with tears in her eyes was burned into his retina. He heard a gunshot and then¡­ darkness.


    ¡°ANNE!¡± He yelled.

 Chapter 2 – Glass Pods

    Anne, John tried to scream but no noise escaped his lips. He was shrouded in darkness with none of his senses working. He couldn¡¯t even feel his own body as his mind drifted aimlessly through the void.


    Maybe she made it through, he thought desperately, maybe she jumped in straight after me.


    John knew that was a long shot, practically impossible given the situation and the certainty that he¡¯d heard a gunshot as he passed through the gate.


    Still, it was easier to hope than to admit that she was dead. The love of his life, gone in a flash. She¡¯d saved his life by sacrificing her own.


    His grief was overwhelming and soon mixed with a raging hatred for the man who had caused all of this.


    If that cop made it through, he thought loathingly, then I will hunt him down and kill him in the most painful way possible.


    Skill unlocked:


    Trauma Response.


    The words passed through his mind in a flash and suddenly he felt numb. His wife was probably dead and yet he felt nothing.


    Well, not exactly nothing. John still felt a pulsing sense of loss coursing through his very being. He felt sad. Like a part of him had been lost forever. His heart physically hurt and he wanted to cry and hug his knees under the warmth of a long shower.


    Skill unlocked:


    Greif Counselling.


    Once again words flashed through his mind and the sadness was gone, replaced with an anger towards both the cop and the giant face in the sky for causing this mess.


    He swore to himself once more that he would hunt down that cop and end his life. Assuming he made it through the portal.


    The feeling of loss and pain still lingered. It was just that those feelings were¡­ faint. Whilst only a moment ago they were an all-encompassing whirlpool threatening to drown him, now they were just¡­ kind of there.


    It was a strange feeling, to know that he should be distraught, that he was barely a second earlier, but now he felt calm. The burning anger and pain that was whirring inside of him turned to cold rage. He still wanted to kill the man, he wanted it more than anything else in the world, but it wasn¡¯t the only thought occupying his brain anymore.


    The words that had flashed through his mind reminded him of a video game. They had said skill unlocked and John wondered if it was similar to the kinds of skills one acquired in role playing games.


    Perhaps there would be a skill tree like in Skyrim. Maybe he could become a stealth archer¡­ then again, why would he want to use a bow in a world that had guns. That wasn¡¯t very logical even if it was pretty awesome¡­ and a meme.


    Words flashed through his head again, this time they were more like an announcement than an unlocked ability.


    Congratulations, you have made it through the torii gate and are now officially entered into Battle Royale Earth. Please choose a player name.


    Choose a name? What was wrong with his name? Perhaps this was like a gamertag, back in the noughties he¡¯d called himself XxnoobkillerxX and he¡¯d kept the same one into adulthood. That was mostly because he was too lazy to change it though.


    Something like that seemed a little outdated nowadays. He liked his real name, common as it was. Then an idea struck him.


    John Doe, he thought into the void.


    It made sense. This way he could keep his real first name, but also, he¡¯d likely be dead soon anyway. Just another unknown body lying broken in the gutter. In an odd way, he found that notion comforting. At least there was no one left to grieve for him when that inevitability came to pass.


    When did I become so morbid? He thought dourly.


    Player name: John Doe has been accepted.


    The words of acceptance flashed through his mind and then he was back in the real world. He was sealed in a long tube with just enough room to turn around.


    Glass surrounded him and he gazed out into space. Stars glittered and the Earth was below him, a giant ball floating in an empty expanse.


    Screw you flat earthers, he thought to himself as he looked out at his home and smiled.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    It was beautiful, the kind of wonderous majesty that should have evoked a powerful feeling within him. Under any other circumstance this experience would be incredible, and in a way it was. Am I smiling? Still, the looming threat of the floating head and the knowledge that most of the population was probably already dead soured the moment for John a little.


    John looked down to see that he was wearing a skintight, full body suit in a deep blue colour. At least he wasn¡¯t naked, that would have been a little too clich¨¦ and would have made probing him that much easier.


    That¡¯s what aliens do right? He thought, probe people?


    Looking back across the expanse of space he saw millions of other glass pods orbiting the Earth. The closest one to his was a small pod with a pink quadruped standing inside it. The animal had black patches on its skin and it took John a moment to recognise it.


    Truffle stared at him through the glass. The tiny pig had made it through the portal. He had been tucked safely under John¡¯s arm when he was pushed through. Of course, he¡¯d only bothered to pick Truffle up because he knew his wife would never leave him behind. Now though, that damned pig was the only tangible thing he had left of her.


    Floating behind Truffle and the other pods was an armada of spaceships. Real life spaceships, who¡¯d have thought? One of them was a giant orb that slightly resembled the Death Star apart from the crudely painted letters on the side that spelled O.R.C.


    John¡¯s attention was so divided by the various floating objects that he didn¡¯t know where to look. He felt like he should have been freaking out, but he wasn¡¯t. Instead he was fairly calm. It must have been an effect of those weird skills. Any normal person would be having a heart attack were they in his position.


    In a flash of green light the floating head appeared once again. It was almost as big as their planet, looming above Earth and staring impassively at the tubes. Its voice boomed out in the same monotony as before, though this time it was projected straight into John¡¯s head.


    I guess there¡¯s no sound in space even for powerful alien-head monsters, he thought.


    752 million of you managed to make it through the torii gates. This is just below ten percent of your population. Congratulations humans, you may now witness the end of your planet as you know it. Behold! The final word rang out, reverberating painfully in John¡¯s mind


    The head disappeared again as huge mushroom clouds littered the Earth¡¯s surface. Continents shifted and lights went out all across the planet.


    From the depths of space, it was a surreal sight. The lights that disappeared all across the planet marked the genocide of billions of people. John hoped that it was quick and painless for them¡­ unless that cop was still down there.


    If he was, then John hoped that bastard burned and turned into a Fallout feral ghoul or something equally painful and disgusting. He really despised that man.


    John, Truffle, and their fellow survivors watched helplessly from their pods as their home was destroyed. The head had mentioned something about a game, would it be played in a nuclear wasteland? Surely the alien head knew enough about basic human anatomy to understand the deadly effects of radiation¡­ didn¡¯t it?


    John didn¡¯t have to wait long for an answer. The green, ethereal head reappeared in front of them soon after the final light vanished and the planet went dark, its impassive expression on full view, as it spoke into John¡¯s mind once more.


    Your planet will now be reborn anew as it integrates with the system. Soon you will be returned to the surface for the 999<sup>th</sup> season of Battle Royale. This season it will be overseen by me, Chairman Tanlan of the Inter-Planetary System Council, with assistance from coveted and honourable showrunners with prior experience in running these games.


    Battle Royale is a time-honoured tradition in which the inhabitants of a newly integrated world fight to see who is the strongest of the species.


    There can only be one winner, though you won¡¯t just be fighting amongst yourselves down there. In a few moments you will have to choose your starting location and from there you will have ten Earth days to find a torii gate and ascend to the next round.


    In order to pass the first round you must collect a full deck of four cards and one soul card. Killing other contestants is not mandatory in the first round, but it is strongly advised that you do so. Failure to collect a full deck of cards will result in you being unable to ascend to the next round.


    If you do not go through the gate in time you will be exterminated.


    Now, get out there and CULL THE MASSES!


    As the last words bounced around John¡¯s skull in an intolerably loud echo, it sounded like hundreds of other voices joined Chairman Tanlan¡¯s.


    Before John had time to think further on the implications of that, there was a small flash of violet light and a large slot machine appeared in front of his pod.


    It was quite literally floating in space, lever and all, as three spinning sections rotated slowly in the centre of the contraption. The last time John had seen a slot machine he¡¯d lost one hundred dollars¡¯ worth of quarters in Atlantic City.


    The rotating sections had pictures on them, just like any normal slot machine, but in place of cherries and the number seven, there were pictures of land masses.


    He saw a shape, that looked slightly like a hanging phallus, roll by on the centre section and instantly recognised it as the geographical representation of Florida.


    Try your luck contestant! Pull the lever for your first free spin!


    Words ruminated in his skull just like they had previously and with a hearty sigh he complied.


    He reached out, but his hand hit the hard glass of his pod. Just in case, he tried to push his fingers through the glass, you could never know with these odd alien contraptions after all, but it was solid and his hand did not pass through.


    ¡°How exactly am I supposed to pull the lever when there¡¯s a glass pod between us?¡± He asked nobody in particular in his frustration.


    Action:


    ¡°Pull the lever¡±


    Has been accepted.


    The words flashed through his mind both visually and in a robotic, female voice which reminded him of an android on a TV show he¡¯d once seen.


    Before his very eyes the lever was yanked down by an invisible force and the slot machine¡¯s centre sections began spinning.


    The first section stopped, landing on a landmass that looked a little bit like someone had tried to make a pancake in the shape of the Millenium Flacon, and failed.


    Then the second section landed on the same image, and the third. John was no geography scholar, but he knew where he was going to be sent.


    Christ alive! He cursed internally, they¡¯re sending me there? Every animal and insect in that country was attempting to kill people before all of this, God only knows how bad it¡¯ll be now.


    He sighed, resigning himself to a fate most unfortunate, as the robotic voice rang, and words flashed through his mind once more.


    Congratulations! Your starting location will be:


    Australia.


    ¡°Yup, I¡¯m definitely going to die,¡± he said to himself, wondering if picking the name John Doe might have somehow caused this unfortunate event, like some sort of karmic retribution.


    He sighed loudly and that sigh quickly devolved into a scream as the pod suddenly and violently plummeted towards the Earth¡¯s surface.


    ¡°There¡¯s not supposed to be any gravity in spaaaaacccceeee!¡±

 Chapter 3 – First Contact

    The glass pod rocketed towards the planet¡¯s surface and John screamed like an agoraphobe at an open-air festival.


    Plummeting to the ground from over 100,000 miles away felt a lot like the kamikaze slide his dad had tricked him into riding when he was a child.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s a nice, gentle waterslide,¡± he¡¯d said.


    A few minutes later a young John¡¯s swimming trunks needed to be surgically removed from his rectum and he wasn¡¯t best pleased about it.


    Free falling in a glass tube from orbit felt a little bit like that, mixed with the sensation of his cheeks being about to be ripped from his face.


    It got worse when his pod entered the atmosphere a few moments later and caught on fire.


    Fortunately, that was the end of John¡¯s frightful freefalling experience as he saw a flash of all-encompassing violet light and suddenly found his pod stuck into the ground.


    After a few seconds of heart palpitations and trying to alleviate the horrendous dry mouth he was experiencing, the glass pod shattered around him and he felt the arid, inescapable heat of the Australian outback all around him.


    He was surrounded by red desert sands, clumpy patches of grass and the occasional tree. He may as well have been on mars which, judging by recent events, was a distinct possibility for future rounds.


    Burning rays beamed down on him from above uninterrupted by the cloudless blue sky that seemed to be an endless ocean above his head.


    Then he heard squealing.


    So much for my serene new home, he thought to himself as he looked around for the source of the noise.


    Turning around he saw a large dust trail reaching up towards the sky. Worryingly, it was getting closer and the squealing sound was getting louder.


    New Quest:


    First Contact


    Objective:


    Survive the encounter.


    ¡°Well that¡¯s just great,¡± John said, raising his hand to his brow in a vain attempt to prevent the sun¡¯s glare from impeding his vision.


    The racing dust cloud was almost upon him and in the near distance he could just about make out the source.


    What appeared to be a mechanised kangaroo on tank treads was chasing a small animal across the outback.


    ¡°I must be seeing things,¡± John murmured to himself as the pair moved closer. ¡°Nope, that¡¯s definitely a kangaroo-mech¡­ Mecharoo? It doesn¡¯t matter.¡±


    ¡°Help!¡± A desperate and high-pitched voice cried out between familiar squeals.


    It seemed to be coming from the small animal. As he watched the chase, John was impressed that the¡­ whatever it was, could run fast enough to keep away from Mecharoo. The quadruped was just so tiny, it seemed implausible to John that a creature of such small stature could outrun an adversary of that size.


    The Mecharoo must have been at least ten feet tall from his best guess and it formed an intimidating frame. A kangaroo¡¯s body attached to tank treads and with¡­ were those boxing gloves for hands?


    As John calmly pondered the situation before him, the small animal reached him in a panic.


    ¡°John?¡± It asked.


    ¡°Truffle?¡± He replied.


    ¡°It is you!¡± The teacup pig squealed with delight as it padded the ground excitedly. ¡°When I saw you in the pod I wasn¡¯t sure if it was real. Is Miss Anne with you? I must find her; she¡¯ll be so happy to know I came back. I was such a good boy. Then again if she realises I¡¯m smart enough to find my way home then she might try that awful toilet training again. Maybe I should-¡±


    ¡°Listen,¡± John interrupted hurriedly, ¡°I¡¯m really glad you¡¯re alive and everything but now isn¡¯t the time for a catch up. That kangaroo is almost here and¡­ wait, you can talk?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve always been able to talk!¡± Truffle squealed proudly as he continued to pad at the red desert sand, ¡°our late-night conversations in front of the apartment are some of my fondest memories.¡±


    ¡°Late night conversations?¡± John asked, struggling to recall a time when he¡¯d ever had a conversation with the pig, ¡°do you mean when you need to go poop in the night?¡± The pig looked up, opening his mouth about to reply when John suddenly interrupted, ¡°Run!¡± He shouted, just as Mecharoo reached them and a red boxing glove shot from its wrist like something out of Inspector Gadget.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    The glove practically exploded away from the mechanical beast with a small, rocket-like flame propelling it towards them.


    John scooped up Truffle with one hand and dived to the side, narrowly avoiding the glove which blasted into the ground where they¡¯d been standing.


    With a deafening bang, the glove exploded on impact sending shrapnel and red dust everywhere. John coughed as he pushed himself up from the ground with a single arm and turned back towards the mech.


    Firing the projectile boxing glove hadn¡¯t slowed it down in the slightest and it was about half a second away from flattening him and Truffle like roadkill.


    Without a second thought, John began sprinting away from the Mecharoo as fast as he could. He pumped his legs faster than he thought was possible and, ignoring the burning sensation in his muscles, headed towards a random tree.


    There was no real reason for the selection, it was just the only local landmark in the wasteland of the post-system Australian outback and he needed a target.


    ¡°What the hell was that!¡± Truffle squealed as he shuffled and struggled under John¡¯s arm to look behind them.


    ¡°An exploding boxing glove,¡± John puffed as he ran, ¡°have you not seen one before?¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Truffle replied incredulously, ¡°why, have you?¡±


    ¡°Only in cartoons,¡± John said through laboured breathing, ¡°It probably says A.C.M.E on it.¡±


    Though he didn¡¯t have time to stop and look, John could tell that Mecharoo was gaining ground on him. The sound of heavy tank treads flattening the sand and sediment was getting louder along with the mechanical clanging sound coming from the mecha-beast.


    He was almost at his targeted destination but his legs were seizing up already and his heart was beating way too fast. That would have been fine if the tree was actually the goal, but John had no idea what he planned to do once he reached it.


    There was nothing around for as far as the eye could see. They were in the outback for god¡¯s sake. There were no towns, no cars, no people or weapons, and they were being chased by a giant kangaroo death machine for some reason.


    The only thing he knew for sure was that in this situation, running was not the final solution. He would run out of steam way before Mecharoo would. He needed a way to fight back.


    That was when he saw something shinny sticking out of a knot in the tree. It was only a hunch, but it was all he had, so he raced firmly towards the shining object and hoped it would be useful.


    ¡°John,¡± Truffled squealed, ¡°I really hope you have a plan because I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be able to carry you if your legs give out.¡±


    Ignoring his companion he focused solely on reaching the tree and whatever was hidden within it. Pumping his legs with all of his strength he made a mad dash towards the shimmering object.


    As he got closer he could just about make out a rectangular shape, the corner of it was stuck into the tree. Was it a piece of metal? He wasn¡¯t quite sure, but something about the way it shone called to him.


    It was as if the little rectangle was veiled in an ethereal glow that shimmered like a desert haze. He just hoped it wasn¡¯t some kind of mirage or they¡¯d be done for.


    He reached the tree with his free hand, held out in front of him, and snatched the metal object from the tree trunk. It was easily removed and he continued running past the tree with his prize clutched tightly in his calloused fingers.


    Unable to look at his new loot without risking tripping over himself, John moved to tuck it into the blue bodysuit he was wearing.


    He undid the zipper and attempted to slide the piece of metal inside so that he could pump his spare arm and run faster. He¡¯d need to put more distance between himself and Mecharoo if he wanted to actually examine the metal object and hopefully find a use for it.


    Logically, he didn¡¯t even know why he¡¯d picked it up. It was a piece of metal, what use could that possibly be to him in this current situation? However, something about it called out to him on a deeper level than his conscious mind understood.


    But it was about to.


    As John slipped the metal rectangle into his bodysuit he felt a pleasant burning sensation coming from his solar plexus. It was kind of like indigestion but instead of stomach pain, there was a lovely warming feeling.


    Card acquired:


    Frontier Justice


    This card is perfect for putting down outlaws and looking good doing it.


    As the words flashed through his mind and the robotic voice rang out, John smiled from ear to ear.


    This was exactly what he needed.


    Though he didn¡¯t really know what the card was, he instinctively knew how to use it.


    Spinning on his heels as he came to a sudden halt, he dropped Truffle and raised his arms out in front of himself. Two jet black revolvers manifested in his hands.


    The pistols had shimmering, golden runes which ran up the length of the barrels. They were written in a language that was wholly alien to John, but that didn¡¯t matter.


    Rasing his new weapons, he targeted the centre mass of the charging Mecharoo and began squeezing the triggers alternately.


    Ear splitting cracks rang out across the outback as bullets ripped through the fleshy parts of the mechanised kangaroo.


    Blood burst from its back as rounds ripped through flesh, tearing up organs, smashing bone and causing general mayhem inside Mecharoo¡¯s body.


    Yet the beast still charged.


    John fired round after round as the tank tracks continued racing towards him. A bead of sweat dripped from his forehead as he shifted his aim upwards.


    If this doesn¡¯t work we¡¯re dead, he thought, taking a deep breath.


    He fired a final shot which ripped through the beast¡¯s forehead as brain matter exploded out of the back of its skull.


    John attempted to make it a double tap just in case, but as he squeezed the trigger again all he heard was the click of the hammer.


    ¡°Shit, out of ammo,¡± he complained as the dead beast rolled to a stop in front of him.


    Wait, how do I reload this thing? He thought looking at his new weapons. The runes had stopped glowing. The cylinders didn¡¯t seem to be hollow and there was no place to insert new rounds. Perhaps the runes controlled the ammunition? It didn¡¯t matter right now; he could figure it out later.


    He tipped his head back and let out a maniacal laugh. He¡¯d survived. He¡¯d killed his first monster and it¡­ it felt pretty damn good.


    Adrenaline pumped through his veins; his heart raced with excitement. Was this what it felt like to fight for one¡¯s life? If so, he should have entered an alien death game years ago. It was exhilarating.


    Then he heard the beeping.


    ¡°John,¡± Truffle said, looking up from the corpse of the Mecharoo with blood on his chin and guilty expression on his face. ¡°I got hungry and you know how I always eat when I¡¯m nervous right? Well, I bit into this thing and there was some metal and now it¡¯s flashing red and making a weird noise.¡±


    John raised a single eyebrow at the pig. There was so much to unpack there, but the beeping was strange and it seemed to be getting faster.


    ¡°Oh no,¡± he said as realisation dawned on him.


    He reached forward to grab Truffle and span on his heels as quickly as he could. The beeping had reached a fevered pitch, momentarily it would be beeping so fast that it was just a continuous noise and that would mean-


    BOOM.

 Chapter 4 – Horns and All

    Gritting his teeth John leaped away from his kill just as the beeping sound reached a crescendo.


    BOOM!


    With an almighty bang, the mech exploded in a cacophony of bolts and metal scraps. The force from the blast pushed John and Truffle through the air as they spun and each grit their teeth.


    John cradled the teacup pig in his arms, attempting to shield him from the blast as they crashed to the desert floor and rolled.


    Doing everything in his power not to bite his tongue, a flash of searing pain ripped through John¡¯s left arm, then a second, slightly less painful, cut shaved his temple and a third ravaged his thigh.


    He laid in the red desert sand for a long moment as a warm liquid seeped from his injured areas. John knew he was bleeding, likely from shrapnel injuries, but he couldn¡¯t bring himself to inspect his wounds.


    Not just yet.


    Laying in the sand he spread his1 legs out and moved them slightly in the way that a child does when creating a snow angel.


    Quest Completed:


    First Contact


    Objective:


    Survive the encounter.


    Reward:


    Full recovery OR x10 shards


    The quest. He¡¯d completely forgotten he¡¯d be given one. Full recovery sounded really nice in that particular moment and almost as soon as he had that thought the pain disappeared.


    Sitting up, John quickly checked himself over to find that he was clear of all bruises, cuts, and scrapes. His body was as good as new and from the sheer volume of blood pooling on the sand, that was a very fortunate thing indeed.


    His blue bodysuit was badly ripped all over, but the biggest rips were on the side of his arm and over his thigh. John was pretty sure there was a major artery in the thigh so the quest reward may have just saved his life.


    ¡°That was close,¡± Truffle snorted as he wriggled free of John¡¯s iron grip. He didn¡¯t even realise he was still holding the pig in his arms.


    ¡°What in god¡¯s name were you doing?¡± John demanded, turning on the pig who looked at the floor and backed away slightly.


    ¡°Eating breakfast?¡± He replied quietly, kicking at the sand with his left trotter.


    ¡°That was a mechanical kangaroo thing,¡± John exclaimed incredulously, ¡°how did you even know it was edible?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t,¡± he began, ¡°but it tasted a lot better than those pellets you and Miss Anne used to feed me. Speaking of the Mistress, where is she?¡±


    Truffle looked up at John hopefully. Though his new skills prevented him from wallowing in his own pity, John didn¡¯t have the heart to tell the pig what had happened. He might not have been crying in a ditch somewhere, but he still didn¡¯t feel like saying that out loud.


    ¡°She¡¯s¡­ not here,¡± he replied instead.


    ¡°I can see that,¡± Truffle said, looking around as if she might simply be hiding in the sand somewhere. ¡°Well, we better go find her then. We simply can¡¯t leave her alone out here; she hates being alone.¡±


    John nodded and picked himself up off the ground. She did hate being alone. That had been the reason she¡¯d bought Truffle in the first place. John¡¯s long hours at work were starting to get to her and she wanted a companion animal to keep her company. Depression has a funny way of doing that, making the loneliness worse.


    Shaking his head to clear his mind, he raised his hands and willed his new revolvers into being and they materialised in his sweaty palms. As this happened he felt a warm sensation emanating from deep within his solar plexus.


    He had dropped the guns in favour of protecting the pig when the beeping had started and yet here they were, back in his hands.


    Acting on a hunch, he opened his fists and let the pistols clatter to the floor. As he expected, clatter, they did not. The weapons barely made it six inches away from his hands before dematerialising and when he willed them to come back, they appeared in his hands once again.


    ¡°At least I can¡¯t lose them,¡± he murmured, happy with the result of his little experiment.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Next he tried to fire a shot off but no round exited the chamber. As before, there was only the unsatisfying sound of the hammer¡¯s click.


    ¡°Damn, how do I reload?¡± He asked the air in frustration, hoping that the voice in his head that granted him skills might come to his rescue.


    It didn¡¯t. He was going to have to figure this one out on his own.


    Speaking of skills, this system bore a lot of similarities to gaming. A sly smile grew on his lips as he headed back towards the Mecharoo.


    ¡°Why are we going back the way we came?¡± Truffle asked, cocking his head to the side, ¡°are you hungry? I think it might be a bit overcooked, what with the explosion and everything.¡±


    ¡°No, just need to check something,¡± he replied absently as he bent over the destroyed remains of the kangaroo mech.


    The ground where its corpse had fallen was littered with charred flesh, guts, blood, and mechanical parts: gears, screws, and the remains of tank treads. The air stank of cordite and burning rubber and John¡¯s nostrils stung every time he inhaled.


    In a video game you usually clicked on something to loot it but considering that this system seemed to work mostly through thought, John somehow doubted the validity of prodding a piece of charred kangaroo with his finger.


    Instead, he tried picking up one of the gears which stuck out of the nearby sand. He held the piece of metal in his hand but nothing happened. Then he thought the words add to inventory. Still nothing. Loot, collect, pick up. He tried every command he could think of but the gear sat idly in his hands like it was laughing at him.


    Now that he thought about it, he hadn¡¯t even received a notification for killing the mech. Every message that he had received was rather bare bones as well. Did that mean there was no experience points? What a shitty game this is.


    Though a looting system would have been useful, he had to face the reality that, for now at least, there didn¡¯t seem to be one. Dropping the gear to the ground, he sighed and began walking away from the blood-soaked sand.


    ***


    ¡°You were pretty badass with those guns,¡± Truffle said as they trekked across the hazy outback. It was the first time either of them had spoken in a while. John had no idea where they were, but he figured that picking a direction and sticking to it was the best option. Surely they¡¯d come across something eventually.


    John grunted in response; he had spent a brief time in the National Guard where he had been trained how to shoot. Granted, he wasn¡¯t trained on revolvers, but the skill was transferable.


    Joining them was the only way he¡¯d been able to think of to pay for college tuition at the time. He had no desire to make a career out of it, but what¡¯s a few years of service in return for a college education?


    ¡°Do you think all the cards have guns hidden in them?¡± Truffle asked.


    ¡°Probably not.¡±


    ¡°I hope not,¡± Truffle said with a snort, ¡°I want to cast spells or something cool like that, or maybe there¡¯s a card that would let me shoot lasers from my eyes, that would be so awesome.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d settle for an ammo card right about now,¡± John said dryly.


    He still hadn¡¯t been able to figure out how to reload the strange weapons that sat unobtrusively in his solar plexus.


    ¡°Are we nearly there yet?¡± Truffle asked hopefully.


    ¡°Nearly where? There¡¯s nothing around but red sand and heatstroke.¡±


    This went on for a while as they trapsed across the outback¡¯s wasteland. John didn¡¯t have an accurate way to measure time but considering that the sun looked like it was going to set soon, he was pretty certain that they had been walking for at least half a day.


    His mouth was beginning to crack with dryness and as he stared at the tiny fissures in the red rocks below his feet, he began to feel sympathy for them.


    John¡¯s stomach rumbled and he needed water badly but they simply hadn¡¯t seen anything since they¡¯d been attacked.


    The world ends, only for me to die of thirst, he thought dourly, it¡¯s almost funny.


    They walked for a while longer and eventually even Truffle had stopped talking. The temperature was beginning to drop and John was pretty certain that if they didn¡¯t find shelter by the time darkness fell they wouldn¡¯t survive the night.


    After walking all day they had almost reached a large sandstone monolith they had been heading towards. It was red, like everything else in the outback, and it looked like someone had cut the top off a mountain.


    Basically, it was a large red rock with a flat top.


    As they approached the monolith, which was much larger than John had initially realised, he saw a glowing yellow sign imbedded into the rockface.


    Approaching it, he realised that it was a neon sign, the likes of which could be found in any dive bar he¡¯d ever frequented.


    It said: The Outback Sleep Shack and underneath the glowing yellow hue was an iron door built right into the side of the sandstone monolith.


    ¡°This country is so cool,¡± Truffle said, speaking up for the first time in a while, ¡°we never had mountain doors back home¡­ or mountains of any kind really.¡±


    ¡°No we did not,¡± John replied distractedly as he placed his hands on door handle.


    Here goes nothing, he though, attempting to open it. However, it didn¡¯t budge.


    ¡°Is it locked?¡± Truffle asked, ¡°hello, is anyone in there!¡±


    There was no reply, so John raised his fist and tried knocking loudly on the metal exterior. As he pulled his fist back for the third time the door swung inward with an unpleasant creak.


    ¡°Hold your horses I¡¯m coming,¡± a voice called from inside, ¡°jeez, talk about a lack of patience.¡±


    John stared into the abyss that was the opening behind the door. It was pitch black inside and though he could hear the voice, he couldn¡¯t see its owner.


    ¡°Well are you coming in or not?¡± It said irritably, ¡°we haven¡¯t got all day you know? The welcoming address will be starting soon and I really don¡¯t want to miss it.¡±


    Hesitantly, John stepped through the door with Truffle at his heels. It took a moment, but his eyes eventually adjusted to the low light and he realised he was in some kind of diner.


    There was a counter on the back wall with red stools lined up in front of it, booths and tables littered the main area and there was even a toilet in the back with the familiar male and female signs used the world over.


    Did this place exist before? He wondered, furrowing his brow as he looked around the diner which could easily have been scraped off the side of any American highway.


    ¡°Woah!¡± Truffle exhaled in excited shock as John turned towards the sound. ¡°I thought dinosaurs were extinct.¡±


    John followed his gazed and immediately drew his pistols as his eyes landed on the creature. His revolvers weren¡¯t loaded, so it was a pretty useless gesture, but the dinosaur didn¡¯t know that so he drew them anyway.


    Standing behind the door at approximately five feet tall was an unassumingly small bipedal humanoid creature. It dressed in white shirt, completed with braces and rolled up sleeves. It even wore a black fedora like it was the 1950¡¯s.


    Everything about it seemed distinctly normal, if a little outdated, with the single exception of its head. It had the head of a triceratops, horns, and all.

 Chapter 5 – Buck and Doe

    ¡°Don¡¯t move!¡± John commanded as he traced the outline of the triceratops¡¯ lettuce leaf shaped head with his revolvers. They weren¡¯t loaded, he had no clue how to reload them, but the dinosaur in the corner didn¡¯t know that.


    ¡°I was warned humans would be violent, but to threaten someone in their own home¡­ does your species have no shame?¡± The triceratops creature said, shaking its head like a disappointed parent.


    ¡°Maybe you should put the guns down boss?¡± Truffle said innocently.


    Boss? John thought, furrowing his brow, since when did he call me that? Then again, I only found out he could talk earlier today. Maybe he¡¯s always called me that in his own mind.


    ¡°If it really is a triceratops¡­ person, then it¡¯s probably a vegan.¡± Truffle explained diplomatically.


    ¡°God damned baby orc,¡± The triceratops growled, ¡°call me an it one more time and I¡¯ll¡­¡± its words trailed off as it seemed to struggle to search for an adequate threat.


    John ignored the outburst, keeping his revolvers trained on it all the same, and turned back to Truffle.


    ¡°How did you know that triceratops were herbivores?¡± He asked incredulously.


    ¡°Miss Anne used to leave the Discovery channel on for me when she went out,¡± he replied proudly, ¡°she thought I¡¯d enjoy watching other animals on the T.V. She was right! It was very entertaining.¡±


    With his question answered, John turned back to his new acquaintance whose arms were beginning to tremble. With a pained sigh, he returned his revolvers to his solar plexus.


    ¡°Sorry about that,¡± he began, slowly rubbing the back of his neck, ¡°but don¡¯t try anything funny, I can summon these guns in an instant and put a bullet between your eyes from twice the distance of this room.¡±


    ¡°How charismatic,¡± the dinosaur grumbled, ¡°the first day is always the hardest.¡± It said, pulling up a stool and turning towards a large screen that stretched the length of the wall. It showed the diner¡¯s menu in a typical takeaway sign style.


    ¡°It¡¯s certainly not been normal,¡± John replied, pulling up his own stool a few spaces down. He was still weary of the odd creature and didn¡¯t want to let his guard down around it. At least not completely.


    ¡°What¡¯s your name human?¡± It asked.


    ¡°John, how about you?¡±


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t be able to pronounce my true name if I told it to you, too many syllables for a species with such an undeveloped linguistical system,¡± it replied matter-of-factly. ¡°The Council has given me the name Buck for the purposes of this season of Battle Royale though, so I guess you can call me that.¡±


    Huh, John thought, Buck and Doe, sounds like an 80¡¯s detective show.


    John was about to reply when the takeaway menu screen flickered and came to life. Weird music blared out; it sounded orchestral but kind of electronic at the same time.


    Chairman Tanlan appeared on the screen, the green glow of his head casting an eerie light around the diner. This time when he spoke it came through the TV screen instead of blasting directly into John¡¯s mind.


    ¡°I offer welcome to both contestants and viewers alike, for this season¡¯s day one address.¡± He said, voice booming and creating an odd static which blared through the speakers. ¡°I will start by explaining this season¡¯s rules for those of you watching at home.¡±


    The screen flickered once more and Tanlan¡¯s visage was replaced by a rotating globe. An animation began to play showing small, purple torii gates popping up all across the planet.


    ¡°This season of Battle Royale takes place on a small planet in the Milkey Way named Earth.¡± Tanlan continued, presumably for the benefit of the viewers. John had to assume that these were the occupants of the armada of spaceships he had seen from his pod. ¡°Earth is a warring planet inhabited by a race called humans.


    ¡°This is a type of sapient ape which has evolved to the stage of possessing rudimentary technology and cognitive development. Earth has been plagued by many wars in the last few centuries and I fully expect their violent tendencies to be most entertaining.


    ¡°Despite their uneducated beliefs, Earth has many natural resources left to be mined and used to benefit the wider galaxy. Thus, The Council has decided to make use of this in the most diplomatic, and entertaining, way possible. Through the use of the Inter-Planetary System games!¡±


    The image of Earth cracked open into weird quadrants with lines and text boxes pointing to various parts of the planet¡¯s crust.


    John couldn¡¯t read the language used in the boxes, but he had to assume it had something to do with the natural resources Tanlan had mentioned.


    ¡°The representatives of the Council sanctioned races will be allowed to bid on as many contestants as they like. If your contestant wins then your corporation will be given the mining rights to the planet.


    ¡°Of course, as in every season, the general public will be able to vote on quests and story lines and the like. Level one will only be open to preliminary beta testing and therefore voting will be limited.


    ¡°As for the contestants, you have ten days to find a torii gate and go through it. They must collect four cards to be eligible to step through the gate. There will be plenty of¡­ opportunities to collect cards.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°It is my sincere hope that we have a great, entertaining season ahead of us. Viewers, sit back, relax, and enjoy the show. Contestants, get out there and CULL THE MASSES!¡±


    Clutching his head as the migraine inducing noise from the final words reverberated across the diner, John decided that Tanlan¡¯s catchphrase was going to get real old, real fast.


    The screen flickered once more and Chairman Tanlan was replaced by what appeared to be a newsroom. The Earth was rotating in the background, in the foreground was a metal desk with two aliens sat at it.


    Are they news anchors? John thought.


    ¡°Wasn¡¯t that address just splendid?¡± An alien that resembled a giant praying mantis wearing a brown suit said. ¡°I swear his speeches get better every season.¡±


    ¡°System good, new season entertaining,¡± a giant green pig nodded in agreement. It looked just like an orc from any fantasy game John had ever played.


    It had a large green head, tusks and¡­ makeup? The orc was caked in pink blush and scarlet lipstick. It even had eyeliner on and purple eyeshadow.


    Now that¡¯s something you don¡¯t see every day, John thought to himself, she kinda reminds me of my great aunt Susan¡­ on second thought, that might be a little offensive to the orc.


    ¡°Our opening show of the season is going to be a long one folks,¡± the praying mantis continued. ¡°So sit back and enjoy the ride, the contestants this year are really something.¡±


    The screen flashed again and turned to grey static. The word: redacted, appeared in front of it.


    ¡°God damn it!¡± Buck huffed, pounding his fist on the counter, ¡°I get why they redact it for you, but surely I should get to see the highlights? Blasted Council, always finding ways to make me miserable.¡±


    ¡°Are you ok Mr Dinosaur?¡± Truffle asked, trotting up to the triceratops man.


    ¡°Call me Buck, and no I¡¯m not ok. I¡¯m stuck on this godforsaken rock, bored out of my skull and now I can¡¯t even watch the highlights.¡± He took a deep breath and his body visibly deflated.


    ¡°Why are you here?¡± John asked tentatively.


    ¡°To operate this safe room, keep you from dying of starvation and to act as a preliminary guide to the game.¡± He replied in a practiced, corporate voice, ¡°In other words, I am the property of The Council and my indenture contract states that I have to stay planet side. That¡¯s all there is too it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m Miss Anne¡¯s property, but she¡¯s a lot nicer than your Council,¡± Truffle said merrily.


    Buck shot him a scowl and then looked to John inquisitively. He shrugged, showing open palms.


    ¡°So you¡¯re a game guide then?¡± John asked.


    ¡°Kinda,¡± Buck replied, ¡°I do a lot of things, and the game changes every season. I can give you some general information but you¡¯ll have to work most things out for yourself.¡±


    ¡°How do I win?¡± John said, leaning closer to the triceratops, a darkness gleaming in his eyes.


    ¡°Win? Ha!¡± Buck replied jovially, ¡°buddy you¡¯ve got no chance. Just do the maths, you¡¯ll have to wipe out the whole world. Nobody can do that.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a battle royale isn¡¯t it?¡± John asked, shuffling closer, ¡°someone has to win, so it might as well be me.¡±


    Truffle hopped from one hoof to the other uncomfortably, eyeing something on the other side of the counter.


    ¡°Boss?¡± He asked, looking up at John through his disproportionately large eyes.


    John looked at him questioningly and Buck turned to follow his line of sight.


    ¡°Hungry are you?¡± Buck said, ¡°hold on, I¡¯ll get you something.¡±


    Standing up with a groan as he pushed off the countertop, Buck limped behind the counter. John heard a few beeps, like the sound microwave buttons make, then the triceratops reappeared with a bowl of¡­ something, and a plate with a burger on it.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I mushed it up for him first,¡± Buck said, placing the bowl down in front of Truffle, but addressing John.


    ¡°¡­ Thank you?¡± He replied uncertainly.


    ¡°Baby orcs can¡¯t digest whole food.¡± Buck explained, ¡°I¡¯d have thought you¡¯d have known that if you¡¯re travelling with him.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not an orc, he¡¯s a teacup pig,¡± John replied casually before taking a bite of his burger. His mouth was cracked and painful from a day of walking in the desert without a drink, he didn¡¯t care though, his hunger pains were worse. ¡°Anyway, are you going to tell me how to win this thing or what?¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t tell you what I don¡¯t know,¡± Buck shrugged, ¡°but if I had to guess, you need two things to win. You need to get a good deck of cards and you need a top tier conglomerate to bid on you.¡±


    ¡°What makes a deck good?¡± John asked between bites and pointed towards a sink behind the countertop. Buck noticed and filled a glass of water, placing it next to the burger.


    ¡°It¡¯s hard to say really, there aren¡¯t many bad cards but it¡¯s how you combine them that decides if a deck is good or not,¡± Buck said ponderously. ¡°Take your gun card for example: combine that with a card that makes ammo explosive and you¡¯ll be pretty damn powerful. However, if you add a card to your deck that makes you hit harder that might become a weakness later down the line if your power set is spread too thinly. If I had to put it all into one word it¡¯d be: specificity.¡±


    John sat back, taking a long gulp of water, and thought about that. It made sense to him that the logical approach to deck building in this game would be to gather cards that enhance the abilities of one single card. It was kinda like min-maxing in a video game. The only issue would be that without a party he¡¯d be unable to cover his own weaknesses that way.


    For example, if he made his Frontier Justice card the main focus of the deck then he¡¯d want to try and find cards that made his guns work better¡­ assuming that cards like that even existed, and that he could find them before the gate closed. That¡¯d likely leave him without healing abilities though. Maybe he could convince Truffle to be a utility salve for him?


    He also wondered about Tanlan¡¯s advice on killing people. He¡¯d said it was highly advisable. Did that mean he¡¯d unlock new abilities if he did it? Maybe that was how he could get loot since he couldn¡¯t loot the Mecharoo earlier. John was a man of action and he¡¯d do what he needed to in order to survive, but he took no pleasure in the idea of killing people.


    Unless he happened to run into that damned cop. If John was lucky enough to be on the same continent as that guy, he¡¯d have no problem with killing him.


    The screen flickered once more, rousing John from his thoughts and the presenters were still in the middle of their highlights segment which appeared to have been explaining how the first round worked. No wonder they wouldn¡¯t let us watch it.


    Buck turned to watch, as did John and Truffle.


    ¡°Wasn¡¯t that exciting, folks?¡± The praying mantis asked the camera.


    ¡°Humans violent,¡± the orc added, ¡°this season fun already.¡±


    ¡°Indeed it is my linguistically challenged friend, indeed it is.¡± The mantis replied, ¡°that¡¯s just about all we¡¯ve got time for, but before we go, let me impart some wisdom for the contestants out there watching: if you want to survive you¡¯ve gotta be interesting!¡±


    ¡°And you got to kill things,¡± the orc added with a self-satisfied nod as if it had just shared some profound insight.


    ¡°Stay tuned for the after-show folks,¡± the praying mantis continued, ¡°and don¡¯t forget to¡­¡± He opened his arms and the audience, which John couldn¡¯t see but assumed was there just off screen, all shouted in unison: ¡°CULL THE MASSES.¡±


    ¡°What kind of catch phrase is that?¡± John complained as the sign went back to its regularly scheduled program of burgers, fries, and carbonated beverages.


    That was when his vision started to go fuzzy and the world began to spin. He felt himself fall from his stool to the ground.


    ¡°Sorry kid,¡± he heard Buck say from somewhere in the distance, ¡°your chances of winning this thing just plummeted.¡±

 Chapter 6 – The Gauntlet

    John¡¯s head pounded like a kick drum. His body ached and his mouth was dry once more. He felt a pulsating sickness deep in his gut and his head swam with nausea.


    Opening his eyes he forced himself to sit up. He felt around his body but there was no external pain and his bodysuit was still intact, negating his worry of having been probed.


    Wherever he was, it was dark and the floor was hard and bumpy. Staggering to his feet and resisting the urge to vomit, John moved around but struggled to ascertain where he was.


    It seems our last contestant is awake! An overly jovial voice said from the darkness, it sounded as if it was transmitting both from a PA speaker and directly into my mind. Contestant, are you ready to run the gauntlet?


    As soon as the question was posed lights flickered on. momentarily blinding John who raised his hand to his brow in a vain attempt to shield his retina.


    Circus music began to play and flickering, multi-coloured lights flashed all around him. A glowing red arrow sign pulsated against what seemed to be a cave wall, pointing him towards an entrance painted like a kaleidoscope.


    ¡°Where am I?¡± He asked the voice dazedly.


    You¡¯re in the gauntlet! What is the gauntlet, I hear you ask? The gauntlet is a new game that has been devised for Battle Royale: Earth. The rules are simple: reach the end and don¡¯t die and you¡¯ll get rewarded.


    ¡°Oh¡­ great,¡± John replied as he took in his surroundings, ¡°where¡¯s Truffle?¡±


    The baby orc was not selected to compete in this game, The voice replied matter-of-factly. Are you ready to take on the gauntlet?


    John was far from ready. He was pretty sure he was suffering from a mild concussion and he hated the circus. Clowns were creepy, and the underground vibe of this gauntlet game gave him serious IT vibes.


    ¡°Do I have a choice?¡± He asked the voice.


    There¡¯s always a choice, contestant. You could choose not to participate in the gauntlet. Of course the only way out of here is by winning, so if you decide not to take part you will effectively be choosing to die of starvation.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ so much choice,¡± John replied facetiously. ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll run your gauntlet.¡±


    Fantastic! The voice said excitedly, please take the kaleido-slide-o when you¡¯re ready, and remember, the entire universe is watching.


    New Quest:


    The Gauntlet


    Objective:


    Survive the gauntlet and reach the end.


    With a heavy sigh, John strode towards the kaleido-slide-o and gripped the iron bar that was bolted atop the entrance.


    As he stared into the abyss, he felt his stomach attempt a daring somersault that was part fear, part anxiety, and part¡­ excitement?


    This reward better be worth it, he thought, I could really use another card¡­ or some more appropriate clothing. I look like the world¡¯s worst superhero in this stupid bodysuit.


    With reckless abandon, he resigned himself to his fate and threw himself into the void. It felt like a slide at a kid¡¯s park, except the interior was painted in that trippy, circus-like kaleidoscopic style. It was glowing and John felt like he¡¯d just smoked a joint in a Seth Rogen movie.


    His body twisted from side to side as he slid down the death pipe and then shot out of the end. The world seemed to slow down as his body hurtled out of the slide¡¯s exit. Looking around, he saw that at the end of the ride was a pit full of spikes.


    Thinking that it seemed like a bit of an underhanded tactic, John reached out and spun in midair, forcing his body to move to the side by throwing his arms around himself in a twisting circle and narrowly avoiding the spikes.


    In his mind, it was an epic move on par with a stunt from The Matrix. However, this was far from the truth as John more closely resembled a cat who had been startled by the sudden appearance of a cucumber. Still, he was alive and he still had the correct number of holes, so he called it a win.


    ¡°What kind of cowardly bullshit was that?¡± He shouted into the empty hallway, gesturing at the spike pit.


    However, as he looked at the place that nearly spelled his demise, he froze. The spikes were covered in blood and three corpses were impaled on them, guts and viscera hanging out of their mutilated bodies which were barely held together by ripped, blue bodysuits.


    That could have been me, he thought with a gulp as he stared at the dead contestants.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    The jovial voice had told him that he was the final contestant. Just how many victims had this game claimed already?


    Shaking his head and clenching his fists, he picked himself up off the ground and started walking in the only direction available to him: forward.


    John was certain that he was underground. The walls arounds him seemed very cave-like and the rough, rocky ground further confirmed his suspicions.


    When had The Council had the time to build this elaborate death trap? Was it possible that they had been secretly preparing the planet for this game show for years, or were they simply fast workers? Maybe he¡¯d ask them if he ever got to meet a member, assuming they could still talk after he beat them senseless.


    John still wasn¡¯t overly sure who this council were. From what Buck had said, and from what he could infer from Tanlan¡¯s announcement, they ran the Battle Royale game that he was stuck in. But that was the extent of his knowledge.


    Buck¡­ He thought, gritting his teeth as he marched through the cave, when I get out of here I¡¯m putting a bullet right between that dino-fuck¡¯s eyes.


    John didn¡¯t have long with his thoughts before he came across the next death trap.


    The cave path turned into a steep incline; a small wooden sign sat at the bottom which read: Grenade Cavalcade.


    Reading the sign and shrugging to himself, John began the steep climb to the top. The word grenade had him on guard, but he¡¯d look around and couldn¡¯t spot anything out of the ordinary.


    Not like I have a choice.


    He started walking up the steep path and soon devolved into climbing on his hands and knees using natural hand holds as leverage.


    Something sticky and wet clung to his fingers as he gripped a grove in the rock. Pulling his hand to his face, he grimaced as he realised that it was blood.


    Had someone been injured here? ¡­ Or even killed?


    That was when the pin dropped.


    John heard a clink as something shinny caught the corner of his eyes. He turned towards it and gasped. A fragmentation grenade began rolling down the hill towards him, bouncing off the uneven ground.


    Diving to one side, John threw his arms over his head in a panic as an explosion rocked the landscape and threw dirt and stone over him.


    Glancing to the side, he saw a fractured skull with tufts of hair and a loose eyeball hanging from it. Someone had died here and the force from the grenades had ripped their body into bits. John turned away and began scrambling up the hill as fast as he could.


    Clink.


    Clink.


    Clink.


    His heart skipped a beat at the sound and he looked up to see three more frags bouncing towards him.


    ¡°Come on!¡± He yelled in frustration as he threw himself up the slope.


    There was no way that he could avoid them all, so in a mad panic, John rushed towards the closest grenade and kicked it as hard as he could. It flew back the way it came and John ducked once more, covering his head just as the three blasts went off in quick succession.


    The terrain was getting harder and harder to navigate as the frags blew chunks out of the rock, but John gritted his teeth and pushed through it anyway.


    He was almost at the top when he heard a cacophony of clinks as more grenade pins dropped to the floor and a part of the roof gave way.


    John looked up just in time to see a swarm of frags raining down around him. His eyes bulged and his heart jumped into his chest as he scrambled up the last section of the hill.


    The grenades fell all around him and he knew he only had a few seconds, if he was lucky, before his insides painted the cave red. Back in basic training, when he was a National Guard, John was taught that a grenade had a four to five second delay. Of course, that was nearly a decade ago, he¡¯d only finished his eight years of service in 2022. Assuming these were similar, that was how long he had left to live if he didn¡¯t do something fast.


    Throwing caution to the wind he dived over the lip of the hill and rolled down the other side. At the top there was a slight dip which he hoped would provide him with some protection. His bodysuit ripped and his skin was cut and grazed as he rolled away, but that pain was better than the imminent death that blocked his retreat.


    BOOM!


    A myriad of explosions went off behind him as dirt, rock and shrapnel flew all around him. The air was thick with the smell of cordite and, though bruised and battered, he was alive.


    After a moment of panting, John picked himself up off the ground and carried on down the tunnel, except now he had options.


    Before him stood three paths, each with their own picket sign staked into the ground. They said: The Mime Field, Whowie¡¯s Big Top, and The Live Wire.


    They¡¯re all circus themed, John noticed as he read through the three signs with their three separate paths. Then the jovial voice came back.


    You have three choices before you. You can only pick one, and each comes with a unique prize¡­ assuming you survive.


    ¡°Which prize is the best?¡± John asked the voice.


    Why, the prize you get for winning the main event of course, it replied, and then the voice faded away.


    The main event? John thought.


    With the gauntlet having a strong circus theme, there was only one option: the big top. That was where the lion tamers usually did their show. The ringmaster was usually the circus leader, at least to the best of John¡¯s knowledge, which was heavily influenced by TV shows.


    Not one to second guess himself, John chose the middle path with a shrug.


    He walked for a short while up a steep, winding path until he came across a huge circus tent which blocked his path. Pinstriped in white and red, it was the exact same big top that children the world over had dreamed of visiting at some time or another.


    Every child that is, apart from John. He hated clowns.


    Stuck into the ground in front of the tent was a small wooden sign which said: Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Entertain.


    Unsure of whether the sign had butchered the Dante quote on purpose or not, John sighed before cautiously lifting the tent flap and stepping inside.


    Slow, pulsating circus music thudded quietly as John walked through the tent. The interior was exactly what one would expect, tiered seating lined the outer area whilst a high wire and various gymnastics apparatus were set up in the middle.


    As John approached the centre of the big top, the tense and creepy music got louder.


    Why does this feel like the build up to a mini boss? John wondered as he cautiously scanned the empty tent.


    ¡­ And now! The jovial voice from before rang out around the tent as bright spotlights began dancing around the dark tent interior, the moment you¡¯ve all been waiting for. In this corner, weighing in at 185 pounds and looking like he¡¯d rather be anywhere else but here, it¡¯s our Earth contestant¡­ John Doe!


    A deafening cacophony of cheers and screams erupted from all around the room. John turned suddenly at the sound and saw people¡­ or rather a myriad of aliens, sitting in the stands which circled the tent.


    And in this corner weighing in at 642 pounds and stretching a whopping 23 and a half feet long, it¡¯s the undefeated champion of the big top, the amphibian that¡¯ll beat you into oblivion, it¡¯s the one, the only: WHOWIE!


    The crowd went wild, screaming, stamping, and clapping as the ground began to vibrate. Loud, ominous thuds filled the tent as John looked directly across at his kaiju of an opponent.


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna need a bigger gun,¡± he said with a gulp.

 Chapter 7 – The Whowie

    John dived to the side as a gigantic pink tongue shot from the Whowie¡¯s mouth like a rocket. The earth exploded where he had just been stood and a crater was left there as dirt rained down around him. The audience cheered wildly.


    Rolling to the side and jumping to his feet, John stared helplessly at his opponent. The Whowie was a massive lizard with a frog¡¯s head. It had six oversized legs that didn¡¯t seem like they belonged on its body. Muscles rippled from underneath its dark green skin and purple veins popped out as it moved.


    Raising his hands, John summoned his revolvers and squeezed both triggers.


    Click. Click.


    The hammer struck but no round was expelled from the chamber. John looked at the guns in frustration, why wouldn¡¯t they fire? How the hell was he supposed to reload them?


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you?¡± A familiar voice shouted from the seating, ¡°shoot the damned thing!¡±


    Turning towards the sound, John¡¯s temper flared as his eyes rested on Buck, who was sitting on the front row. Truffle was sat on his lap and cheering enthusiastically.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know how to reload!¡± He shouted back, seriously considering pausing the fight to break the triceratops¡¯ jaw.


    ¡°Twist the cylinder!¡± Buck called back.


    John had already tried to remove the cylinder. That was one of the first things he had done. He knew how a revolver was supposed to work, he wasn¡¯t an idiot.


    Still, with so few options, he did as he was instructed and twisted the cylinder of the black metal weapon. Gold runes lit up all along the barrel and the same thing happened to the second gun as he repeated the process.


    ¡°What the hell?¡± He muttered.


    He remembered that the guns did have golden runes on them when he¡¯d first drawn them from the card, but why would twisting the barrel turn them on and off? Was it a safety feature? He¡¯d have to ask Buck after the battle, assuming he survived, and assuming that Buck could still talk after John beat him senseless.


    With a wild grin splitting his face, John turned back to his opponent. It was about time he got in this fight. He raised his dual pistols¡­ but there was nothing there.


    Looking wildly around the tent, he couldn''t see hide nor hair of the scaled homunculus.


    Our challenger seems a little bewildered folks! The jovial voice rang out to the laughter of the audience, oh where, oh where could the Whowie be¡­ perhaps it¡¯s BEHIND YOU!


    John jumped, twisting around as the loud voice cackled both in his mind and through, what he assumed was, some kind of PA speaker. Of course, the Whowie was still nowhere in sight and John¡¯s face flushed scarlet with anger and embarrassment as the audience laughed at his reaction.


    He tried to keep them out of his mind. They were obviously cruel aliens to enjoy this farcical spectacle. Maybe he¡¯d shoot a few of them later.


    WHOOSH.


    Air blasted past John¡¯s ear and he dived away from it on instinct, turning back just in time to see the air ripple as something warped the space where he had just been standing.


    Did the Whowie have some kind of invisibility? Following the rippling wind, John fired a bullet in the direction he believed it came from and a feral scream rocked the tent.


    Got ya, he thought as he raised his second revolver and unloaded alternate rounds from both weapons at the spot where his first bullet had struck.


    The crowd cheered for him, but after the first couple of bullets struck, the next few ripped through the edge of the tent.


    His invisible enemy had moved.


    ¡°Look out boss!¡± Truffle shouted from the stands, but John reacted too slowly as something heavy forced him to the ground.


    He felt his ribcage crack as the Whowie¡¯s invisibility faded and, to John¡¯s horror, he was trapped underneath one of its enormous, muscular legs.


    The air had been squeezed from his lungs and he struggled to breath under the crushing weight of the kaiju. Still, he had to try something or else it was all over. He needed to survive; Anne had told him to win and he certainly wasn¡¯t going to die on the first day. How pathetic would that be?


    John¡¯s left arm was trapped underneath the giant webbed foot, but his right arm was free, even if it did hurt like hell.


    He lifted it and began firing his pistol as fast as he could. The Whowie screamed as purple blood splatted from the underside of its belly, painting John in its glowing fluids.


    The smell was atrocious.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    Nostrils burning, he continued to fire until the beast retreated, and he breathed in deeply as the weight lifted from his chest.


    Breathing in, though necessary, was not pleasant. John¡¯s ribs must have broken from the initial hit and each breath caused a sharp pain to resonate within his torso.


    Stumbling to his feet, he noticed that his left arm wouldn¡¯t move properly. It was dislocated at the shoulder.


    John needed the use of both of his arms.


    Acting on instinct more than with rational thought, John ran, shoulder first, into the wall which separated the stands from the pit. He¡¯d seen it plenty of times in movies. Some juiced up, action hero would ram his arm into a wall to fix a dislocation.


    However, in lieu of a miraculous, Hollywood-style recovery, John screamed.


    It turned out that action hero logic wasn¡¯t always true, who¡¯d have thought? He felt a nasty, grating click and he could move his arm a little bit better. However, the trade-off of severe pain and possible lasting damage probably wasn¡¯t worth the limited movement he gained. That would have to be a problem for future John though.


    Gritting his teeth, he began searching for the Whowie once more. He needed to end this charade so he could work on healing himself without the threat of imminent death.


    The kaiju had turned invisible once again and John lost sight of it. The monster had every possible advantage over him. It was big, it was strong, and it could turn invisible. The perfect apex predator.


    There was just one thing that John had that the beast didn¡¯t: the ability to think critically. He knew that he¡¯d shot the Whowie multiple times so far and that it was bleeding ¨C his skin was a testament to that.


    So, he looked to the floor and found the purple trail of blood leading away from the ground he¡¯d been stomped into. He followed the blood with his eyes until he found a growing pool of the stuff in the far corner of the tent.


    That was where he aimed his revolver as he began firing at the location.


    The Whowie screamed once more, it was high pitched and feral. John¡¯s ears pounded with the pain of the loud noise and the crowd cheered enthusiastically at it.


    Those sadistic bastards, he thought as he continued firing at the spot.


    Just like before, his bullets began ripping through the tent, but this time John was ready.


    Searching the ground quickly and diligently, he saw a dripping trail of blood and followed it. The Whowie seemed to panic as it began zigzagging and jumping around, but John did not let up.


    No matter where the beast went, his bullets followed. It almost felt too easy as he fired round after round from pistols that never seemed to run out of ammo.


    This Frontier Justice card is awesome! He thought as he continued shooting the kaiju.


    Blood gushed from its many wounds as John continued to fire round after round at the beast. It had to die sometime soon, it was more hole than body by now, at least that was what he surmised from the amount of purple blood that gushed from its body like an open faucet.


    WHACK.


    Something soft and wet collided with John, forcing him off his feet. He dropped his guns and they returned to the card inside his solar plexus.


    Attempting to sit up, John realised that he was wrapped in the soft, fleshy thing. It had to be the Whowie¡¯s tongue. It had lashed out with it a few times before, but this was the first time it actually made contact.


    John suppressed the urge to scream as the sticky tongue squeezed his chest, crushing his already broken ribs. He was wrapped up like Cleopatra in a fancy carpet, and then he began to move.


    His body was lifted from the floor and he flew through the air as the invisible tongue shot back into the kaiju¡¯s mouth. Everything went dark as his body was sucked down the beast¡¯s gullet.


    The warm stench inside the Whowie was suffocating and it smelled like rotted meat and vomit from the end of a boozy night out. He gagged, but at least the crushing pressure on his ribs had subsided. John couldn¡¯t see anything, and as he forced himself into a sitting position he hit his head on something gooey.


    Gross! He thought, trying hard to keep his mouth closed as the sticky, wet, interior liquid dripped all around him.


    He placed his hand on the floor of whatever part of the beast he was in, the stomach maybe? However, he had to pull it away quickly as his skin began to sizzle.


    Stomach acid burned through his bodysuit and began breaking down his skin. His flesh burned, turning red, and the smell was just awful.


    Thrusting his good arm out, he summoned his revolver again and began blasting rounds at the Whowie from the inside.


    I am not going to die like this!


    He fired round after round into the darkness until he heard a thundering sound coming from further within the seven-meter-long kaiju.


    Oh no, he thought, realising what was about to happen just as stomach acid, vomit and bile crashed into him. He was forced out of the stomach region as he held his breath and hoped it would all be over soon.


    He¡¯d never wondered what it felt like to be flushed down a toilet, but now he knew. His body banged and battered against the inside of the Whowie as he was flushed away with the current of stinking, burning liquid.


    Then, for a moment, he felt weightless as he was projectile vomited out of the beast¡¯s mouth, flying through the air.


    The crowd cheered with even more gusto than before as the soaked human was launched across the circus tent and into the stands.


    ¡°Oh my, that stench is utterly atrocious!¡± A fat, Jabba The Hut-looking alien cried as he crash landed into a wooden bench in the mid-section of the stands.


    ¡°You¡¯re not allowed in the stands plebian!¡± Someone else yelled at him as he tried to regain his focus. His eyes saw stars which marred his vision as his broken body struggled to do what his brain commanded. He attempted to pistol whip the rude fuck but his arm slid straight through it like there was nothing there. The image distorted for a moment before settling.


    Holograms?


    It looks like our contestant wants to take a selfie with the audience. I¡¯m sorry contestant, but you still have a Whowie to fight!


    Sitting on the floor of the stands as alien holograms moved away from him in a disgusted manner, John rubbed his head before a purple light enveloped him and suddenly he was sitting in the middle of the pit once again.


    The Whowie stood above him, bleeding heavily and looking extremely angry.


    Skill Unlocked:


    Locate Weakness


    ¡°Fuck this!¡± John shouted, anger rising through him as the events of the past few minutes caused his blood pressure to rise.


    Pulling out both pistols, even though his left arm could barely move, he blasted the homunculus repeatedly in the face. It was as if suddenly he knew exactly where to aim to cause maximum damage.


    Using his right-hand weapon, he aimed for its eyes and one after the other they burst from within their sockets, covering him in clear goop.


    He didn¡¯t stop there though, he pulled the triggers again and again until the Whowie¡¯s face was nothing but a bloody, pulpy mess of broken skull and ravaged skin.


    Then, when the beast finally fell to the ground defeated, he stood up gingerly and raised his good arm at the crowd, levelling his revolver at Buck.

 Chapter 8 - Ratings

    ¡°Woah, calm down,¡± Buck said, raising his scaley hands above his head as audience members began to flee the stands for no apparent reason. John was uncertain if these were even real alien holograms or simply a garish feature of the big top. Not that it really mattered.


    He levelled the revolver calmly at the triceratops motherfucker who had forced him into this god-awful situation.


    Breathing heavily, as his skin burned with the remnants of the Whowie¡¯s stomach acid, John began to squeeze the trigger.


    Now, now contestant, the jovial announcer¡¯s voice chimed around the tent causing John to loosen his grip slightly. Attacking council employees is against the rules.


    ¡°Fuck your rules!¡± He shouted, anger welling up inside of him. The annoyingly chipper voice of the cruel announcer did not help the situation. ¡°This guy knocked me out and threw me into the gauntlet to die. I deserve revenge.¡±


    ¡°Please John,¡± Buck pleaded, crouching down in the stands and trying to make himself smaller. ¡°I was just doing my job¡­ and you won! You¡¯ll get a reward for this, not to mention the airtime.¡± He was rambling, trying desperately to save his scaley hide, and John knew it. His cowardice served to annoy John even more as he gritted his teeth and further squeezed his finger on the trigger.


    As he looked the dinosaur dead in the eyes, his own vision began to crackle and fade. The adrenaline from the battle was leaving his body and his outstretched arm began to shake as he felt every injury he had sustained.


    It was agonising, and as his vision spotted, he suddenly found that he was looking up at the roof of the pinstriped tent. He heard a gunshot echo throughout the tent and the shrill screams which followed.


    A notification filled his vision, but even that was shaky.


    Quest Complete:


    The Gauntlet


    Objective:


    Survive the gauntlet and reach the end.


    Reward:


    <ul>


    <li> Full Recovery</li>


    <li> X100 Shards</li>


    </ul>


    Do you want to accept all rewards now?


    Y/N


    John mentally asserted yes just as his consciousness faded and the world turned black.


    ***


    Sitting up groggily, John opened his sticky eyelids and blinked rapidly at the bright light surrounding him. He appeared to be sat on a small bed inside a bedroom the size of a closet.


    He was stark naked, covered only by a thin sheet, but he felt weirdly alright. Pressing his hand up against his chest, he felt no pain and saw no bruises.


    Lifting his left arm, he realised that it was no longer dislocated. He vaguely remembered completing a quest and accepting the rewards for it, but he was badly injured, angry, and his mind was on the fritz when it happened. Needless to say, the memory was hazy at best.


    Standing up shakily, he wrapped the sheet around his waist and opened the thin wooden door, finding himself in familiar surroundings.


    The door opened into a short corridor which led into the same diner he¡¯d been abducted from earlier: The Outback Sleep Shack.


    Buck stood behind the counter polishing glasses with a dirty rag whilst chatting idly with Truffle. They both turned to look at the semi-naked human as he stepped cautiously into the diner.


    ¡°Good morning sleepy head,¡± Truffle called, ¡°are you feeling better now?¡±


    John nodded once, refusing to take his eyes away from the squirming triceratops.


    ¡°Listen, I know we got off to a bad start but hear me out ok?¡± Buck said cautiously as John folded his arms and raised a single eyebrow. ¡°I wasn¡¯t entirely truthful when I explained my role to you before. I do run this diner and I can answer questions about the game, but there is no such thing as a safe room and I¡¯m also charged with sending contestants into various dungeons, games and other contests. It¡¯s part of my contract with the council. I¡¯m indentured to them and if I don¡¯t fulfil my obligations I¡¯ll be killed.¡±


    John kept his arms folded as he considered the dinosaur¡¯s hurried and desperate reply. It seemed closer to the truth, though that didn¡¯t rid John of his scepticism. He¡¯d been lied to once already and it could easily happen again. He simply didn¡¯t know enough about this game or the council to be sure.


    ¡°Even if that¡¯s true, I nearly died because of you,¡± he replied. ¡°What¡¯s to stop me from painting this diner with your brains right now?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ Assuming you value your life, there¡¯s the fact that murdering council employees comes with the extermination penalty.¡±


    John eyed the sketchy triceratops harshly. After a long, awkward moment, he sighed and took a seat on one of the red-cushioned bar stools in front of the counter.


    ¡°I¡¯ll believe you¡­ for now,¡± he began, purposefully refusing to take his eyes away from Buck¡¯s scaley face. ¡°However, if you cross me again I will put a bullet in you, consequences be damned.¡±


    Buck swallowed hard, a thin bead of sweat cresting his brow as he nodded slowly.


    ¡°Boss will put a hole in your head like he did in that tent before he fainted!¡± Truffle chimed in, looking to John and nodding his head once.


    Nice try buddy, John thought with a sigh.


    ¡°Y-you have my word that this won¡¯t happen again,¡± Buck stammered.


    John wasn¡¯t so certain. Surely a council employee charged with such a dangerous task would have means of protecting themselves against contestants like him.


    For now though, he¡¯d take him at his word and keep an eye on him at the same time. That should prevent any more unforeseen circumstances.


    ¡°Ok, just no more Rohypnol in the food. Got it?¡± Buck nodded frantically and John continued, placing both elbows on the counter and leaning forward slightly. ¡°I¡¯m also going to need you to explain a few things for me. To start with, how do I get more cards.¡±


    ¡°Sometimes you can find cards in the wild, but there are only two surefire ways to acquire cards: win challenges or purchase them at the kiosk.¡± Buck replied.


    ¡°What¡¯s a kiosk?¡±


    ¡°We have one right here, it¡¯s over in that corner,¡± Buck said, gesturing towards something resembling an ATM machine.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    ¡°Alright, and what about challenges?¡± John asked, ¡°What are they and how do I find them?¡±


    ¡°There are lots of different types of challenges,¡± Buck replied, ¡°The Gauntlet was one actually, though the reward for that one was shards. There are challenges spread throughout this round and they¡¯re usually pretty easy to find. The more challenges you complete, the faster you¡¯ll find cards and the more views you¡¯ll get. Of course, at this stage in the game their main draw is allowing you to complete your deck which is a requirement for entering the torii gate to the next round.¡±


    Catching a glimpse of John¡¯s quizzical face, the triceratops also hastily added: ¡°shards are like an in-game currency that can be spent at the kiosk, you should have gotten some for completing The Gauntlet.¡±


    ¡°Ok,¡± John replied slowly, ¡°and what about skills?¡±


    He had received three skills in total since the start of the game and he was pretty sure the latest one was the reason he had managed to defeat the Whowie.


    ¡°Skills?¡± Buck replied with narrowed eyes, ¡°did you hit your head when you passed out or something? I know I¡¯ve been calling it a game, but this is no video game John. People don¡¯t just get randomly awarded skill points.¡±


    How odd, John thought, deciding to play along and keep his mysterious skills to himself for now. Perhaps it was a glitch in the system and if that was the case he didn¡¯t want anyone nerfing it.


    ¡°Ooh,¡± Truffle said, scrabbling at the countertop and trying to look over the top, ¡°I have a question! How come I haven¡¯t needed to poop yet?¡±


    Both John and Buck looked at him incredulously. Then, scratching the back of his scaled head, Buck replied. ¡°Bodily functions like that have been turned off for the duration of the game. Back in the early days they didn¡¯t used to do that, or so I¡¯ve heard, but it tanked the show¡¯s ratings. Turns out most people don¡¯t want to watch a dude drop to his haunches to drop a deuce. Though, from what I¡¯ve seen of this planet¡¯s culture, some humans paid good money for exactly that. Apparently it was quite popular on a site called OnlyFans, along with sending pictures of feet. Your species is weird.¡±


    Truffle looked oddly upset, but he didn¡¯t say anything.


    A shiver passed down John¡¯s spine as he realised that toilet time would never be the same again. Man¡¯s single moment of peaceful, uninterrupted solace had been soiled. Cast into the annals of history.


    Pushing the intrusive thought out of his mind, John rose from his stool and approached the kiosk in the corner of the diner. The rectangular machine was about the height and width of a typical arcade game. However, in place of a joystick or card reader, there was simply a console with the shape of a hand outlined on it.


    Placing his hand on the machine, John felt a warmth spread through his palm and fingers as flashing lights glowed beneath his skin.


    Then, the screen lit up.


    It looked similar to an online retailer¡¯s interface with a search function, a cart and even recommended items. John looked through the recommended section and saw something interesting.


    Contestant Interface:


    Recommended for all contestants, the interface will allow you to see your cards, level, ratings, a map, and the number of days until the round ends, at any time.


    Price: 50 shards


    50 shards, John thought, that¡¯s half my total winnings from that gauntlet game.


    His total shards were listed in big numbers at the top of the screen. John knew that an interface would be useful, he had no idea how long it had been since he¡¯d landed in the outback and he imagined that time would become even more difficult to effectively judge as the game went on.


    Hesitantly, he added it to his cart and then navigated the search function to find cards.


    Cards:


    You cannot currently afford any cards. The purchase of cards starts at 1000 shards.


    ¡°1000 shards!¡± John yelled, then caught himself and dialled it back a bit.


    He would have to complete ten challenges to get that many. He¡¯d only gained 100 from The Gauntlet and he¡¯d nearly died fighting the Whowie. How was he ever going to get a full deck if that was the price point?


    ¡°Most people get their cards through specific challenges,¡± Buck said after hearing John¡¯s accidental yelp. ¡°Challenge cards are usually better anyway. The main reason you can purchase them at the kiosk is for situations such as only needing one more to qualify to enter the gate¡­ well, that and the executives¡¯ team building days.¡±


    Nodding along thoughtfully, John decided to attempt to address one of his other immediate needs: clothing. The search function brought up all sorts of items from board shorts and bikinis to full plate armour and tactical combat gear.


    John found himself scrolling for a while before something in his price range actually caught his eye.


    Upgradable Duster (common):


    This stylish duster is the perfect companion for the desert dwelling contestant. Keep the sun off your back and the monster¡¯s out of your organs. This luxurious piece of kit boasts a generous self-repair function and a minor defence against melee damage. It can also be upgraded, so you can keep it until the day you inevitably get brutally murdered.


    Now available in black, brown, or tan!


    Price: 45 shards.


    That seemed more like it. A piece of clothing that he could keep and that offered him some protection from both melee attacks and the elements.


    With a sly smile, he added a black one to his basket and then added a cheap pair of jeans, boots, and a plaid shirt, bringing his total to a rounded 100 shards.


    John clicked to purchase and two things happened. Firstly, a small tube rocketed out of a clear hole in the machine, nearly hitting John in the gut. Secondly, his vision went blank for a moment and he felt a sharp pain in his hand as, what appeared to be, alien computer code took over his retina.


    It was like watching an old PC booting up as green text lit up his vision, typing frantically across the screen before disappearing.


    Once it was gone, his vision returned, but it was different from before. In his periphery there were various numbers and options for him to choose. They weren¡¯t particularly invasive unless he actively looked for them, but they were always there, no matter how much he shook his head or tried to look away.


    ¡°Are you ok Boss?¡± Truffle asked in a concerned voice, ¡°do you have fleas? You¡¯re shaking your head like you have fleas.¡±


    ¡°No Truffle,¡± John replied, ¡°I¡¯m just testing something out.¡±


    ¡°I know that reaction,¡± Buck said wistfully, ¡°you bought a contestant interface didn¡¯t you? It¡¯s a good purchase, as long as you don¡¯t mind The Council being inside your head forever.¡±


    There were a few different features floating around in John¡¯s vision, the most noticeable was a mini map. When he concentrated it expanded and he could see a little trail leading towards a big rock surrounded by blackness.


    It seemed the map only updated with places he¡¯d physically been. He wondered if he could find The Gauntlet on it but pushed the idea out of his mind as he looked through the next feature.


    His level was also there, it said level N/A and when he concentrated on it nothing happened. That was odd, surely he¡¯d gained enough experience to have at least a single level by now?


    Next to that there was a section that said countdown 8 days remaining in large writing.


    Wait, John thought, I¡¯ve been here for two days already?


    How had that happened? He¡¯d barely done anything. He was also slightly annoyed that it only showed days and not the exact number of hours and minutes left. It seemed like a flaw in the system, but he was certain it was purposeful.


    He turned towards Buck for answers but the dinosaur was way ahead of him, lifting his finger like a schoolteacher giving a lecture.


    ¡°You can¡¯t level up until you¡¯ve acquired a full deck of cards. Once you have though, and your level increases, you¡¯ll be able to buy better items at the kiosk,¡± Buck explained. ¡°It also increases things like your strength and how much damage you can take before you die.


    Before you ask, no, you can¡¯t see those stats; The Council took that feature out a few seasons ago after a clever contestant started gaming the system to become overpowered... It was a real mess.


    ¡°As for the timer, yes it has been two days already and the reason it feels like less to you is because you¡¯ve been unconscious for a lot of it. You were the final contestant on The Gauntlet and you were kept in stasis until it was your turn.¡±


    ¡°Wow,¡± Truffle said in awe, ¡°are you a mind reader? I think he¡¯s a mind reader boss.¡±


    ¡°No, not at all,¡± Buck chuckled, ¡°I¡¯ve just been doing this a long time.¡±


    John flushed an angry crimson colour and the triceratops flinched, raising his hands defensively.


    ¡°Check your ratings!¡± He squealed and John noticed another section in his peripheral vision. It was entitled ratings and he focused on it to see if it expanded.


    Ratings:


    Rating: 4.2 stars


    Views: 100,038


    Likes: 17,382


    Follows: 10,021


    ¡°Ok, that¡¯s a lot of views,¡± John said slowly, ¡°are people watching me right now?¡±


    ¡°Well, yeah,¡± Buck replied with a shrug, ¡°this is a game show, people are watching you all the time. How do you think The Council makes its money? Though that¡¯s not as many as you might think. The entire universe is watching, that¡¯s not even one view per system. You¡¯ll have to work pretty hard if you want to get your views up, especially with so much competition out there at the moment. But, if you do get popular, I promise it¡¯ll be worth it.¡±


    John stood silently for a moment as the horror sank in. He would never have a moment of privacy again. His life was valued at how popular he was on a game show and how many people followed him. This must have been what it felt like to be a social media influencer, but without the ego trip and copious amount of money for doing fuck all.


    His wife, Anne, had always loved posting things on social media. She¡¯d posted holiday pictures, pictures of Truffle, even the food they got at restaurants, but this was a whole other level.


    He tried to put the thought out of his mind. He hated this, hated all of it, but there was no use dwelling on it now. It wasn¡¯t like there was anything he could do about his situation anyway. Besides, there was only one thing that mattered to him at the moment, and that was collecting cards and getting stronger.


    He walked towards the tube that had nearly winded him and pressed the release clasp on the side.


    Unfurling his new clothes, he dressed himself and donned his black duster. He had only one regret once he¡¯d put on his new outfit.


    I wish I¡¯d have bought some underwear.

 Chapter 9 – Perth

    After donning his new outfit John resigned himself to what he would have to do next. He needed to collect more cards if he wanted to survive.


    That meant he needed to find the closest challenge.


    Turning to Buck with a steely gaze he said: ¡°tell me where the closest challenge is.¡±


    ¡°Hold up a moment,¡± the triceratops began, ¡°you¡¯ve only just woken up, you¡¯re not in any condition to go jumping into the next challenge. You don¡¯t even know how healing works! You should take at least-¡±


    ¡°Then tell me how healing works,¡± John said, cutting him off, ¡° then just point me in the right direction and we¡¯ll be off.¡±


    ¡°I must insist you stay at least a little longer,¡± the dinosaur began, but upon seeing John¡¯s folded arms and stern expression, he realised his pleas would fall on deaf ears. ¡°Fine. Without a card for it, healing can only be achieved in three ways. Using the traditional methods of this planet, getting it as a reward for a quest ¨C though that¡¯s usually an immediate thing, or resting in the bed here at the Sleep Shack.¡± John nodded along and then glared at the dinosaur to continue after he stopped talking. ¡°There¡¯s a city nearby,¡± he began with a sigh, ¡°head south-west from here, your map should act as a compass. Just¡­be careful.¡±


    Was that¡­ concern? John thought, taken aback a little by his tone. Buck had been the reason he¡¯d been injured in the first place. Surely the dinosaur didn¡¯t actually care if he lived or died?


    ¡°Ooh,¡± Truffle said, perking up and looking at John with large, round eyes. ¡°Do you think Mistress is in Perth? Are we going to go and find her?¡±


    ¡°Something like that,¡± John muttered, though he knew, of course, that they would not find Anne in the city. That gunshot had been a pretty clear indicator of her fate, and even if she had survived it, she would have never made it through the portal in time. She didn¡¯t even want to go through in the first place.


    He knew that he should have told Truffle the truth there and then, but something about the hopefulness in his companion¡¯s eyes made him doubt himself.


    ¡°Thanks,¡± John said, casting a final glance at the prehistoric bartender before turning on his heels and leaving the diner.


    Truffle trotted happily at his side. For a teacup pig, he was surprisingly quick.


    They walked in silence for a long time with nothing but the south-west direction indicator on John¡¯s interface to lead them.


    The outback was a barren wasteland of red sand and wilting bushes. He was unsure if it had always been that way or if it had somehow been changed by the arrival of the system.


    It didn¡¯t really matter, what was more important was surviving the harsh sun long enough to reach the city.


    The weather was positively sweltering and despite his new duster doing its best to keep the sun from burning his skin, John felt as if he was slowly being cooked alive.


    Perhaps Truffle would eat his corpse if he died of sunstroke. If nothing else, the pig might be able to take his card and keep going. Though how a pig would use two revolvers was beyond him.


    Could Truffle even have cards? Was he considered a contestant?


    In contrast, Truffle trotted happily at his owner¡¯s side, whistling an annoyingly jaunty tune.


    ¡°How are you not as hot and bothered as I am?¡± John finally said as his temper began to rise with the searing heat.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Truffle replied, ¡°I¡¯m a stick away from a spit roast out here, but we¡¯re going on an adventure. I love adventures! Mistress used to take me on walks sometimes. When you were at work she¡¯d take me all over town in her car. I miss the car. Do you think we can find one?¡±


    ¡°Maybe if we¡¯re lucky,¡± John replied, though he wasn¡¯t hopeful.


    The hours passed as the two crossed the outback and just as the sun began to crest the horizon, they saw the glimmering lights of Perth. The map must have been shrunken somehow. Though he¡¯d never been to Australia before, he knew that it was a huge country with most of the population living by the coast. If it was full sized then surely there was no way they¡¯d have made it to the coast so quickly.


    The city was a sprawling metropolis of glass skyscrapers, luscious gardens and deep blue waters. It was a beacon at the edge of the desolate, outback wasteland. The stark contrast between desert brush and civilisation was shocking though, only furthering John¡¯s suspicions about the map being shrunken. How did The Council even have the technology to do this?


    John wasn¡¯t sure exactly what he was expecting to see upon their arrival, but a vibrant, beautiful cityscape definitely wasn¡¯t it. He¡¯d assumed it would be more Fallout: New Vegas.


    As they passed the first few buildings he began scanning their surroundings for signs of life¡­ and danger.


    ¡°It¡¯s quiet here,¡± Truffle mused as he trotted next to John¡¯s side, ¡°I thought cities were supposed to have lots of people.¡±


    ¡°They are,¡± John replied, still watching his empty surroundings wearily.


    In contrast to the outback, which was a sprawling surface with good sightlines, the city was a rat run of alleyways, streets and buildings. They could be attacked at any time, from any direction.


    John was acutely aware of this fact as they ventured further into Perth. Turning a corner, John stopped, blinking a few times to check that what he was seeing was really there. Before him laid a dozen corpses. He moved wearily towards them, Truffle hot on his heels.


    Approaching the first body, which had begun to stink like gangrene in the hot sun, he noticed a plethora of stab wounds to the sternum and chest. Whoever this person was, they¡¯d been brutally murdered. He¡¯d have to keep a closer eye on those alleyways.


    All of the bodies were dressed in the same, albeit now tattered, blue jumpsuits which John had been wearing when his pod first landed.


    Such a waste of life, he thought dourly as Truffle trotted eagerly towards one of them, a young brunette girl. Her face was permanently stuck in an expression of pure fear. The rigor mortis must have begun to set in.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    ¡°Boss look!¡± Truffle squealed excitedly, ¡°isn¡¯t that thing on her neck just the best? I want it, can you get it for me?¡±


    Following the pig¡¯s gaze, John¡¯s eyes rested on a white bowtie with little red polka dots. He almost denied Truffle¡¯s request, but frankly he was just glad that the pig hadn¡¯t started eating the bodies. With a sigh, he carefully removed the bowtie and fastened it around Truffle¡¯s neck.


    I wonder where she got this from? He thought, did she meet a dinosaur too and buy it from a kiosk. He couldn¡¯t see any weapons nearby. Surely she¡¯d have needed one to earn the shards to buy the bowtie. That was, unless there were still some intact shops around.


    ¡°How do I look?¡± Truffle asked, puffing his tiny chest out.


    ¡°Marvelous,¡± John replied dryly. He had kind of been hoping that the bowtie would be some kind of in-game item that¡¯d bestow a stat boost or a perk, but if it was Truffle hadn¡¯t mentioned it. Considering the pig couldn¡¯t keep his mouth shut about even the most mundane of things, John had to assume that it was in fact, just a regular old bowtie.


    Well, as long as you¡¯re happy.


    ***


    ¡°How exactly do we find this challenge?¡± Truffle asked, after an hour or so of diligent exploring in which they¡¯d found absolutely nothing. ¡°Do you think they have signs? Ooh, maybe there will be a sign-up sheet!¡±


    ¡°I doubt they have those,¡± John replied absently.


    ¡°Well they should,¡± Truffle continued, ¡°how else are people supposed to know how to enter? Do you think they¡¯ll let me enter? I could be your second. I¡¯m fierce you know, it¡¯s in my blood. My mother once bit a breeder right on the nose and-¡±


    ¡°Quiet,¡± John hissed, ¡°I think I heard something.¡±


    The two waited silently in the middle of a wide street with tall glass buildings on either side.


    CRASH.


    John turned quickly in the direction of the noise which sounded like a trash can being knocked over. With the exception of that, the city was a ghost town and eerily silent. Something definitely wasn¡¯t right.


    He heard scampering, like the sound of padding on the concrete, from behind him.


    Spinning again he caught the flash of a moving shadow as it disappeared down a side alley.


    ¡°Someone¡¯s watching us,¡± he said in a low voice, ¡°let¡¯s keep walking, but stay quiet. Whoever they are, we need to be vigilant. We don¡¯t want to end up like those poor guys we found.¡±


    ¡°Got it boss!¡± Truffle replied loudly to John¡¯s internal scorn, ¡°whoever they are, they¡¯ve brought a knife to a gun fight.¡±


    They walked slowly down the street as John deftly kept watch on the alleyways from the corners of his eyes. The scampering sounds continued and seemed to be getting closer.


    Whatever was following them, it wasn¡¯t as subtle as it thought it was.


    He heard the sound of padding feet creeping up behind him and just as the noise seemed within touching distance, he drew his revolvers from his card and span on his heels to face the stalker.


    Extending his arms threateningly, he stared down the sights of the weapons at their pursuer.


    ¡°Who the hell are you?¡± He demanded.


    A small koala stood before him and cocked its head as it looked up at him quizzically.


    ¡°Seriously?¡± He asked, lowering his guns.


    ¡°He¡¯s so cute!¡± Truffle squealed, ¡°can we keep him Boss? Please!¡±


    Truffle trotted forwards and the curious koala backed up a step. It was taller than the pig, but it seemed a little skittish all the same.


    What was a wild animal like that doing in the middle of a city?


    ¡°It¡¯s ok little guy, I¡¯m not going to hurt you,¡± Truffle cooed as he took careful steps towards the creature.


    ¡°Little?¡± John mused, ¡°it¡¯s twice the size of you.¡±


    The teacup pig turned back, giving John a pointed look, before continuing to pursue the small bear.


    The koala stood still as Truffle got close enough to nuzzle it. Then, as the pig raised his head towards the small creature¡¯s face, it screamed.


    The noise was deafening and bounced off the glass windows of the nearby buildings in a ricocheting echo. If there was anyone, or anything, in the city, they certainly knew where they were now.


    Truffle jumped backwards startled as another koala popped its head out from a side alley.


    Then another appeared, and another, and another¡­


    Within seconds they were surrounded by a sea of the little grey bears.


    ¡°What the hell is this?¡± John asked, turning around as the menagerie of chattering koalas cocked their heads and looked up at him in unison.


    He turned back to the first one that had arrived. It was in the middle of a circle with John and Truffle, surrounded on all sides by an ocean of the creatures.


    It looked up at him and moved its paws behind its back as if it was a soldier standing on parade in the at ease position.


    Removing its hands from behind its back it produced two small knives. Its eyes glowed red as it flashed rows of sharp teeth at them and began gnashing them.


    Then, in unison, all the koalas produced knives from behind their backs and began clashing them together like tiny chefs sharpening their tools before some prep work.


    ¡°Why do they have knives?¡± Truffle asked.


    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t they have knives?¡± John replied monotonously. ¡°I hate this game.¡±


    As if on cue, the hoard of koalas charged at them and John opened fire.


    He shot the first one squarely in the face and its head exploded like a viscera filled water balloon. A second koala dived at him and bit into his ankle.


    ¡°Fuck,¡± he swore, kicking at the feral bear which flew through the air and landed somewhere amidst the swarming crowd.


    ¡°What do we do John?¡± Truffle asked, backing up, ¡°I know I said I¡¯m fierce but I can¡¯t fight this many.¡±


    ¡°RUN!¡± John shouted, scooping up Truffle and charging into one side of the hoard.


    Adrenaline coursed through him as he made a mad dash for the nearest alleyway, kicking and firing wildly as he went.


    The sound of clanging steel was deafening as he waded through the sea of koalas.


    ¡°Watch out!¡± Truffle screamed from under his arm as a red-eyed koala jumped out of the crowd with a vicious smile on its face.


    John lifted his free arm to block it, but he wasn¡¯t fast enough as the spry animal landed on his shoulder, knives out in front of it.


    ¡°Motherfucker!¡± He shouted as the two blades impaled his upper pec.


    The koala hung on, knives sticking into John like it was climbing an ice wall. Its chittering teeth sounded like laughter.


    Dropping his revolver, he grabbed the little cretin and threw it back into the crowd before jumping over the remaining bears into the alleyway.


    ¡°We made it,¡± he sighed, pressing his hand into his bleeding chest.


    ¡°Uh, boss,¡± Truffle said, ¡°you might want to look behind you.¡±


    John turned just in time to see the feral beasts gush into the alleyway, a torrent of fluffy mayhem, as they charged towards him, clambering over one another as some of them appeared to be running on the walls.


    Like Indiana Jones with a golden idol in his hands, John turned and sprinted down the alleyway with Truffle clutched tightly under his arm.


    ¡°What the hell is wrong with these things?¡± He shouted exasperatedly, between heavy breaths.


    ¡°It¡¯s always the cute ones,¡± Truffle replied, ¡°being adorable is a fa?ade.¡±


    ¡°I hope you¡¯re not speaking from personal experience,¡± John replied as he pumped his legs as fast as he could.


    Truffle didn¡¯t have time to reply as they reached the end of the alleyway which opened up into a wide-open expanse, ringed with buildings.


    John could hear the koalas closing in on him, so, mustering the last of his strength, he put his head down, channelling his inner football player, and charging straight into the middle of an open area.


    His legs burned something fierce as he pumped his free arm for all he was worth.


    CRASH.


    He fell onto his backside as he collided with something.


    ¡°Ow, what the-¡±


    ¡°Who the hell are-¡±


    ¡°Get out of my way-¡±


    John looked up towards the unfamiliar voices to see two men and a woman. It seemed all four of them had collided with one another.


    He had so many questions, but the koalas were closing in. There would be time for answers later. Moving to stand, he looked behind himself to see that the hoard of cuddly death bears had stopped.


    They seemed to be shuffling in from four separate alleyways that all led into the same grassy expanse that he now found himself in.


    They formed a ring around the group of humans, and Truffle, and then just¡­ stopped. Red eyes glared at them from all sides as the newcomers looked just as unsure as John felt.


    Well folks, it seems our lucky contestants have finally arrived, a jovial and familiar voice rang out from all around them and invaded John¡¯s mind.


    ¡°I think we¡¯ve found the next challenge,¡± John said, his stomach flip flopping as the annoying voice of the announcer surrounded them.


    Are you ready for the Hob-Koala Hullabaloo? The announcer asked loudly, like a gameshow host hyping up a crowd, because I know I am, and this one is sure to be the bomb.

 Chapter 10 – The Hob-Koala Hullabaloo

    ¡°The hob-koala what-a-the-fuck?¡± The man nearest John said as he looked around at the mass of tiny, knife wielding bears that surrounded them.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t sign up for this,¡± the other man said as he too took in his surroundings looking like a deer caught in headlights.


    The two of them had a similar look about them, perhaps they were related? Both had brunette hair, though one¡¯s was significantly longer than the other¡¯s and tied up in a messy bun.


    One of the men had a nasty scar across the side of his neck and knives strung across his chest in a bandolier, the long-haired male didn¡¯t, but their faces looked disturbingly similar. Angular jaws, flushed cheeks, blue eyes.


    If John had to guess, it was only natural to assume that they were brothers.


    The attractive blonde woman standing opposite him seemed to have come to a similar conclusion as she looked between the two of them with a furrowed brow.


    Alrighty then contestants, the announcer began in its annoyingly jovial tones. This challenge is a rather simple one. Kill the Hob-Koala and take its card, it¡¯s really that easy. Though I feel it is only right to tell you that there¡¯s only one card. I can¡¯t wait to see how that turns out!


    Sharing a look with Truffle, John lamented the sadism of the announcer. His annoying voice was one thing, but intentionally pitting John against his fellow humans for the right to take the card was just sick.


    Despite that, he was still unwilling to lose this chance at a second card. He needed it to survive. It would be his, he just hoped he wouldn¡¯t have to kill someone to get his hands on it.


    Pulling himself from his spiralling thoughts, John noticed the shifty, untrusting gazes that the other contestants were sharing. It felt like he was in the middle of a Mexican standoff.


    ¡°Listen,¡± the long-haired man began in a southern drawl, raising his palms in surrender, ¡°I don¡¯t want to kill any of y¡¯all. Let¡¯s just make a deal right here and now, that whoever lands the killing blow on this hob-koala, or whatever it¡¯s called, takes the card and then we all go our separate ways.¡±


    ¡°Y-yeah,¡± the short haired man agreed with a slight, fearful stutter in an identical accent to the other man. ¡°I don¡¯t want to die today, l-let¡¯s work together to get through this and the card goes to whoever strikes the killing blow, just like that guy said.¡±


    Were they pretending to be strangers? Who would be stupid enough to fall for that? It was obviously some kind of ploy to get John and the girl to let their guards down. Did they think he was born yesterday?


    ¡°That sounds like a great idea!¡± Truffle piped up, causing the three newcomers to go wide eyed almost in unison.


    I guess they¡¯ve never seen a talking pig before, John thought.


    ¡°You guys seem nice,¡± the teacup pig continued to their bewilderment. ¡°My name is Truffle, what¡¯s yours? If we¡¯re going to be working together, it¡¯s only right we know what to call each other.¡±


    ¡°I-is anyone else seeing a talking pig or did I get spiked again?¡± The short-haired man asked, taking a step back.


    ¡°Nope,¡± the long-haired man replied, ¡°I can hear it too... stranger,¡± he added hastily.


    ¡°Well shit, I kinda hoped I¡¯d been spiked,¡± The short-haired man said, ¡°at least that would have been somewhat normal.¡±


    Before the group could continue their ridiculous conversation, the announcer interrupted them once more.


    Here we go folks, the moment you¡¯ve al been waiting for. Please put your hands together for the one, the only, Hob-Koala!¡±


    John half expected to hear cheering as he immediately drew his guns, but there was nothing. Well, apart from the sound of engines roaring overhead.


    Before he could look to the sky, where the sound was coming from, the world slowed down and a new quest appeared in front of him.


    New Quest:


    The Hob-Koala Hullabaloo


    Objectives:


    Kill the Hob-Koala 0/1


    Survive 0/1


    Reward:


    1/5 chance to receive a new card.


    One out of five chance? John thought, is there someone else here, or does that mean Truffle does count as a contestant?


    Before he had time to finish his thought, the world sprang back into life as the engine sound drew closer.


    John looked to the sky just in time to see a huge koala on a flying surfboard rocket into the middle of the open space he and his fellow contestants were currently occupying.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    The surfboard had two small jet engines attached to the back that changed angles on a rotating gear that John had to assume the Hob-Koala could control. Because of this, it was not a surprise when the koala skidded to a mid-air holt and hovered ominously above them.


    ¡­ And here he is now! The Hob-Koala! Weighing in at approximately two hundred pounds. He¡¯s well known around these parts for successfully riding the biggest wave ever seen in this hemisphere. Though he was disqualified for cheating due to his pimped out, flying surfboard. Let¡¯s take a quick look at who¡¯s going to be facing him in this challenge shall we?


    Not one to wait around in the face of death, John aimed his guns at the flying monster only¡­ they weren¡¯t there.


    That¡¯s odd, he thought, I don¡¯t remember putting them away. Shrugging, he attempted to pull his revolvers from his solar plexus when a strange warning flashed up on his interface.


    Warning:


    The use of cards prior to the start of a challenge is forbidden and blocked. Continuing to attempt this will result in a penalty.


    A penalty? John thought, what could be worse than having to fight a flying koala whilst expecting a knife in the back from your so-called teammates at any moment?


    First up we have BazzleDazzle69, the announcer continued as a spotlight appeared out of nowhere and lit up the short-haired man. He doesn¡¯t have a card yet folks, but what he lacks in fighting strength he makes up for in stupidity.


    John snorted and BazzleDazzle69 shot him a nasty glance. ¡°Just call me Baz, alright?¡± He said, dropping all pretences of his earlier nervous disposition. ¡°I was high when the world went to shit so I entered my gamertag. If I¡¯d have realised this was the apocalypse I would have chosen a better one.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure if that makes it better or worse,¡± John replied flippantly before the announcer continued.


    Joining him is his twin brother James¡­ oh, that really is his contestant name. I guess he must have been the first person to use it after he jumped through the gate. The announcer said, losing his showman voice for a brief moment, James likes long walks on the beach, hunting deer, fishing and, according to his tinder profile, says that ¡®fat chicks need not apply¡¯.


    The long-haired man went bright red as the blonde lady shot him a discerning glare, ¡°classy,¡± she said.


    ¡°Goddamned aliens ruining our plan,¡± Baz hissed under his breath.


    ¡°I think everyone here already knew you two were related,¡± John said casually, ¡°it was pretty obvious.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t!¡± Truffle replied, outraged, ¡°why would you try to make us think you were strangers? Was it one of those practical jokes I¡¯ve heard so much about? Ooh, let me try! I am¡­ a horse.¡±


    ¡°Correction,¡± John said with a sigh, ¡°everyone apart from Truffle, knew you were related.¡±


    Joining them in this challenge is the lovely Joanna99. As one of only two carded contestants among the challengers, she¡¯s going to be one to watch folks.


    Joanna and John shared a look as she must have realised that he was the other card holder at the same time he did. That made her his only real threat in the group. Unless Baz or James had a bazooka hidden up one of their asses, they were unlikely to be a threat.


    Though Bazzle could stab me in the back with one of those knives of his, John thought, I better keep an eye on him.


    Both of them were still wearing their pod bodysuits from the beginning of the game. How had they not even managed to get some clothes after two whole days of the competition? Then again, if they were starved for shards, choosing to buy weapons first wasn¡¯t a bad idea. Perhaps there was more to them than they¡¯d let on.


    And finally, the announcer bellowed randomly, almost blowing John¡¯s eardrums, you may remember him from his fight with the Whowie, it¡¯s John Doe and his partner Truuuufffflllleee.


    John rubbed his palm across his face whilst Truffle attempted to lift his trotter to wave at the invisible audience.


    Why did he have to introduce us like that? He thought, feeling his cheeks flush red.


    Now then, how about we get this show on the road folks? Three, two, one¡­ GO!¡±


    Instantly, John¡¯s revolvers reappeared in his hands and he pointed them skyward towards the Hob-Koala, but it had already moved.


    He tried to trace its erratic movements, firing off a few shots which went wildly off target. Even his locate weakness skill didn¡¯t seem to help as the boss mob zipped and zagged around in the air like a wasp.


    The Hob-Koala flashed him a toothy grin before pulling a grenade from¡­ somewhere. John shuddered at the thought of where the naked bear had been storing such a dangerous weapon.


    Zooming over his head, it dropped the baseball sized device. John only caught a glimpse of it as he began sprinting away, but it seemed to have little ball bearings stuck into its side. That was not good news.


    BOOM.


    The grenade exploded with a bright flash of fire as the zipping sound of shrapnel passed dangerously close to John¡¯s head. He dived instinctually, landing in the midst of the hoard of regular sized, knife wielding koalas who had chased him earlier.


    ¡°Ow,¡± he shouted, firing off a shot at the cheeky koala which had stabbed him in the right buttock as he landed, immediately hiding its knife behind its back pursing its lips like it was trying to do a nonchalant whistle. The bullet passed through the bear¡¯s stomach with ease and took out the one behind it as well.


    That was when the carnage ensued.


    Previously, the koalas had been rather subdued. Happy to watch the challenge unfold, they had been nothing if not exemplary audience members. That was, until John shot at them, ending all possibilities of a peaceful evening viewership.


    Standing at the edge of the crowd, John brushed the dirt from his new jeans and swore. Then he noticed the gleaming red eyes of hundreds of small bears locked onto him. They began clashing their knives together and John knew exactly what that meant.


    ¡°Oh no, not again,¡± he sighed, turning on his heels and sprinting away from the murderous koala hoard.


    From all sides of the clearing, koalas began clashing their knives together. Then, all at once, they began running into the centre of the battlefield.


    It was like a murderous, fluffy mosh pit, as all five contestants were slammed into by the raging, raving, psycho-bears.


    The Hob-Koala cackled from above as it began hurtling grenades into the pit with renewed vigour. Blood, viscera, guts and fur painted the ground in a deep crimson as the bombs descended, exploding on impact. A pink mist filled the battlefield as John ducked down behind a tree.


    ¡°What did you do?¡± Joanna, shouted as she dived next to John who was attempting to use the palm tree as a shield.


    ¡°I think I upset them,¡± he replied, leaning out from behind the foliage to fire off a few rounds which the Hob-Koala easily dodged. ¡°I tried to say hello but my koala isn¡¯t very good and I think I might have told one of them I slept with its mother,¡± he said, looking at Joanna with a blank expression. ¡°What? It was an accident.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re almost as insufferable as those idiot twins,¡± she replied, pointing in the direction of the screaming brunet men.


    Baz was running in circles like a headless chicken, arms raised above his head, screaming loud enough to be heard over the explosions.


    Meanwhile, his brother: James, was attempting to throw koalas at the Hob-Koala and missing spectacularly. At least he was trying to be useful.


    ¡°What does your card do?¡± John asked, shouting to be heard over the noise.


    ¡°Honestly, it¡¯s pretty useless,¡± she said averting her eyes from his, ¡°it lets me levitate small objects, but I have to touch them first. I thought about trying to fire the grenades back at the Hob-Koala, but they go off as soon as they hit the ground so there¡¯s no time to touch them and activate my card.¡±


    John, looked into her eyes for a moment and she blushed slightly. There was something unsettling in her gaze. He shivered, but there wasn¡¯t time to think on it. An idea was beginning to form in his mind, but first, he¡¯d need to find Truffle.

 Chapter 11 – When Pigs Fly

    ¡°Stay here,¡± John commanded Joanna before rushing out from behind the palm tree he had been using for cover.


    He needed to find Truffle, but in the ensuing carnage caused by the koala hoard, that would be a tall order.


    Running into the fray, guns blazing, he dipped, ducked, dived and dodged the incoming flurry of throwing knives and furry murderers.


    Above him, the Hob-Koala relished the slaughter, dropping fragmentation bombs into the swarm and cackling madly as his brethren exploded like blood-filled pinatas.


    A koala jumped out of the crowd towards John, it was frothing at the mouth and holding two, bloodied knives.


    Jumping deftly to the side, he turned and fired a shot which glanced off one of its blades, ricocheting into one of its fellow bears.


    Firing again, he began moving backwards but the koala didn¡¯t fall. It deflected more bullets than it took, but it still did take some rounds to the abdomen.


    Bleeding, and seemingly ravenous, it kept coming.


    John fired again, this time aiming for its head. Brain matter and gore exploded out of the back of its skull, covering the twins who were panicking as they fought off another group.


    ¡°Ew!¡± James screamed, his man bun dripping with blood as he threw an ineffective kick at a smiling bear which rushed towards him with dual knives.


    John shot the beast, and continued his search, ignoring the twin¡¯s cries of pain and anguish as they stood back-to-back, desperately throwing kicks at the oncoming swarm.


    ¡°Truffle!¡± John shouted, though his voice was lost amidst the sea of clattering and explosions, ¡°where are you?¡±


    John dived to one side as three koalas in a trench coat stumbled forward, slashing wildly. The one on top wore a hat and flashed him a fangy grin.


    Where did it get a fedora?


    ¡°Do not be alarmed fellow human,¡± a computerised voice coming from inside the trench coat said. ¡°I am Bill from accounting. Darn these tax returns.¡±


    Is that what koala¡¯s think we¡¯re like? John wondered to himself as he absently booted a nearby murder-bear like a football. I guess it is pretty accurate to be fair.


    ¡°Will you help me with my tax returns, fellow human?¡± the voice said as the trench coat wearing koalas chased after him, ¡°perhaps afterwards we can engage in small talk and lament the rising cost of electricity?¡±


    ¡°If there is one good thing about the end of the world,¡± John said, turning to face them, ¡°it¡¯s the destruction of the IRS.¡± He fired a few shots into the koala on the bottom and the entire charade fell apart as the two others came tumbling out of the beige detective wear, the one in the middle was holding a cell phone which seemed to be where the Stephen Hawking-style voice had come from.


    He shot them both and moved on.


    ¡°Truffle!¡± John shouted again, still struggling to be heard above the riotous noise which encompassed his immediate vicinity.


    ¡°I¡¯m over here!¡± A small voice replied from somewhere within the swarm of murder-bears.


    Trying to locate the direction the mini-pig¡¯s voice had come from was no easy task. Still, John waded through the corpses of destroyed koalas in search of him.


    ¡°Heeheehee!¡± The Hob-Koala squealed from overhead and John ducked as the mechanised surfboard passed close enough to shave him.


    Dropping to the ground, he fired his twin revolvers at the psychopathic supervillain rip off, narrowly missing as it danced like a court jester atop its surfboard, doing a back flip and sticking its palms over its lips as it blew a raspberry.


    Cheeky fucker, it¡¯s too agile, John thought in frustration, no matter what I do I just can¡¯t hit it.


    The Hob-Koala turned to John, staring directly into his eyes, and gave him the finger. John wasn¡¯t aware that koalas could do that, but he guessed you learned something new every day.


    ¡°Boss!¡± Truffle cried, jumping onto his chest and padding at his shirt with his trotters. ¡°I heard you calling for me, but I was a little¡­ tied up.¡± That was when John noticed the congealed blood that was stuck to the pig¡¯s thin mouth hairs.


    Gross.


    ¡°Come on,¡± he said, scooping the teacup pig into his left arm and dropping his pistol back into his card. ¡°I have a plan, but we need you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m needed?¡± He squealed wondrously, ¡°damn right I am! I told you I¡¯m fierce.¡±


    John rolled his eyes as he dashed back towards the palm tree where he¡¯d left Joanna, shooting a few koalas on the way for good measure.


    ¡°This is what you made me wait here for?¡± She said, gesturing incredulously at him with open palms. ¡°What am I supposed to do with a pig?¡±


    ¡°Surely you¡¯ve heard the expression?¡± John replied with a single raised eyebrow as he held out his tiny companion in the palm of his hand.Stolen story; please report.


    ¡°You¡¯re certifiable. I don¡¯t think you¡¯ve thought this through,¡± she protested, ¡°you¡¯ll end up getting him killed.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± John replied eagerly, ¡°he¡¯s fierce, aren¡¯t you buddy?¡±


    ¡°Damn right I am boss!¡±


    ¡°Alright, fine,¡± Joanna reluctantly agreed, ¡°but if this doesn¡¯t work then-¡±


    ¡°Then you¡¯ll come up with a better plan?¡± He interrupted, ¡°I haven¡¯t seen you suggest any bright ideas so far.¡±


    Joanna furrowed her brow as she considered John with a harsh expression. If anything, it made her even more attractive, but John had been married long enough to know that it was unwise to tell a woman that. So he kept it to himself. Once again something in her eyes bothered him but he couldn¡¯t quite put his finger on what it was.


    With a resigned sigh, Joanna lifted her hands and a deep blue glow surrounded them, and Truffle. The little pig levitated out of John¡¯s palm, kicking his trotters as he got used to the odd sensation.


    ¡°Look boss, I¡¯m flying!¡± He squealed happily, ¡°no longer am I forced to suffer the consequences of being easily stepped on.¡±


    John gave his companion a concerned look.


    ¡°I hope you¡¯re ready,¡± Joanna said, an air of concern in her tone.


    Then she launched the pig, who soared through the sky, enveloped in a bluish hue, as if fired from a catapult.


    Truffle¡¯s short flight captivated the twin brothers who both stopped their galivanting to stare.


    ¡°Remember that time I asked your wife if she¡¯d set me up with her sister,¡± Baz began, ¡°and she said: ¡®when pigs fly,¡±


    ¡°Yeah?¡± James replied, shaking his leg like a defecating dog in a vain attempt to remove the koala that clung to it.


    ¡°Well you¡¯d better call her, bro, because I know I haven¡¯t been spiked this time.¡±


    Truffle soared through the air, controlled by Joanna, making a beeline for the Hob-Koala whose back was turned as it danced atop its surfboard, raining fragmented carnage on the ground below.


    The pig impacted the hovering bear who barely seemed to notice as the small quadruped landed on its head and began biting at its fur.


    ¡°What was the plan?¡± Joanna said, folding her arms, ¡°have the pig do a Ratatouille or something? Because that only works in cartoons.¡±


    ¡°Not quite,¡± John said, taking out his pistol and leaning heavily on his locate weakness skill. ¡°I just need one good shot¡­ Truffle, keep him still!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m trying boss,¡± the pig replied, ¡°but I can¡¯t find the right hair to control him.¡±


    When did he see that movie?


    That was all it took.


    Despite his small size, Truffle had quite the loud voice and the Hob-Koala noticed. It dropped the grenade it had been preparing to throw and began clawing at its own head, trying to dislodge the teacup pig who rode it like a rodeo bull.


    All John needed, was a small distraction.


    Aiming a single gun up at the Hob-Koala¡¯s surfboard, John fired.


    The bullet erupted from the chamber and down the rifled barrel in what seemed like slow motion as it split the air like a wave and embedded itself onto the surfboard¡¯s right engine.


    Skill Unlocked:


    Marksmanship


    ¡°Ok, bring him down, quickly.¡± John commanded.


    ¡°I can¡¯t¡¯, I have to touch him first.¡± Joanna protested.


    ¡°What!?¡±, he said, turning towards her, ¡°but you already did.¡±


    ¡°My card has a cooldown, and conditions.¡±


    ¡°Shit, Truffle!¡± John yelled, ¡°Jump!¡±


    Without question, the pig leapt from the crown of the boss monster and for a second he seemed to be floating gracefully in mid-air, legs pumping like a cartoon character.


    With eyes wide, John dashed back into the fray, arms outstretched in an attempt to catch his trusted companion.


    As Truffle fell, John remembered the day Anne had brought him home. He wasn¡¯t much smaller back then, but he was much louder. The teacup pig had screamed the house down, causing quite the uproar at the next tenants association meeting.


    Mr Parkinson had stirred up a riot among the other tenants renting in their apartment complex. Not that it mattered now, the old codger had been killed when the building collapsed.


    If John was a better person he might have spared a thought for the dearly departed, but in truth, he¡¯d always hated his downstairs neighbour.


    Coming out of his flashing memories, the world sped back up as Truffle fell helplessly towards the ground. John dived, catching him with relative ease, and luck, and rolled into a sitting position in the middle of the bloody, open space.


    Skill Unlocked:


    Basic Athleticism


    Two skills back-to-back, he grinned, must be my lucky day.


    He nodded his approval, placing the mini pig onto the ground and re-summoning his weapons.


    There was a loud clanking sound coming from the air, and, looking up he located the source of the noise and smiled to himself.


    The Hob-Koala stumbled, off balance, as its surfboard rocked and turned in circles. One engine was on fire and emitting a dark black smoke which could only spell trouble.


    With a high-pitched whine, the machine plummeted to the ground in a large explosion which sent shrapnel flying all around the open space.


    Koalas screamed and squeaked like dog toys as they were sliced by the small pieces of metal which embedded themselves into everything in the vicinity, John included.


    He threw his body over Truffle and hunkered close to the ground, attempting to avoid the worst of it. He succeeded, but still gained a few nasty cuts and scratches as the hot metal sliced his right arm, shoulder and back like so much salami.


    Once it was over, he stood up with pained gasps as rivulets of blood cascaded down his arm in a crimson stream. His new duster was torn to shreds, and though it would repair itself, the cut-up shirt underneath it would not.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad that¡¯s over,¡± Truffle said as the two gazed at the blazing inferno that covered the wreckage.


    John wasn¡¯t sure that it was though, as he hadn¡¯t received a quest update.


    ¡°HeeheehEEEEEE.¡±


    The voice came in a ragged, broken noise from the inside the flames themselves. As the two looked towards it, the Hob-Koala limped towards them.


    It¡¯s fur and skin had been peeled back, leaving only clumps of charred flesh and hanging organs to cover its skeleton.


    Inside, it was made of metal. Fangy teeth hung at odd angles from its mouth, one of its eyeballs had popped leaving a terrifying red dot in its place, housed in metal caging.


    The sound of clanking and whining machinery rang out across the battlefield as it limped towards them.


    ¡°I hate this damned game,¡± John muttered as he shot the legs out from under the boss monster.


    That barely deterred it though as its robotic eyes locked onto them and it began a slow crawl.


    Pulling a grenade from God knows where, it slipped it into its mouth and pressed a large red button on the side. The bomb began flashing red and, wide eyed, the Hob-Koala started crawling towards them with a surprising amount of speed, just like one of those zombies in Call Of Duty.


    ¡°It¡¯s a suicide bomber!¡± Baz shouted from behind them.


    ¡°You can¡¯t call them that anymore, little bro,¡± James said, ¡°the politically correct term is-¡±


    Thankfully, he didn¡¯t get the chance to complete that sentence.


    Relying heavily on his locate weakness skill to guide his aim, John raised his revolver and fired a single bullet straight into the Hob-Koala¡¯s fangy maw.


    BOOM.


    It hit the grenade, which exploded with a hiss and a bang, spraying phosphorus everywhere.


    Seeing this, and possibly with aid from his new basic athleticism skill, John scooped up Truffle and dived back behind the palm tree where he had left Joanna.


    James screamed bloody murder as the phosphorus sprayed his chest, setting him alight. John watched on helplessly as the man¡¯s skin caught fire and began melting before his eyes.

 Chapter 12 – Mercy Kill

    John watched the carnage with an open mouth from his position of relative safety behind a palm tree. The fire had spread in a small circumference around the area of explosion and was burning fiercely, however it seemed to be dying out. The grass was soaked with so much blood that it was practically a wetland swamp.


    Thank god for all those dead koalas, John thought as he watched the sizzling pink mist begin to rise from the evaporating blood near the fire. It rolled across the ground: a low fog.


    James, the man-bun having twin brother of BazzleDazzle69, screamed in agony and terror as the phosphorus clung to his skin, burning away the layers and threatening to strip him of his flesh.


    ¡°Oh my god,¡± Truffle said in a horrified voice, ¡°Boss, we have to help him!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know that we can,¡± John replied in a low voice.


    ¡°James!¡± Baz screamed, rushing to his side and sliding through the blood-soaked grass on his knees.


    ¡°Shit,¡± John swore, jumping from behind the tree and slamming into Baz with the expert speed of a professional football player.


    ¡°Get off me!¡± Baz screamed hysterically, ¡°I have to help him.¡±


    ¡°The only thing you¡¯re going to do is get covered in that stuff and burn to death with him!¡± John shouted back as he struggled to keep the hefty man from breaking free of his clutches.


    ¡°Fuck you!¡± Baz replied, tears beginning to stream from his eyes, ¡°he¡¯s my brother, I can¡¯t just watch him die. This is all your fault you¡­ you¡­ fuck!¡±


    In a way Baz was right, if John hadn¡¯t shot the phosphorus grenade then perhaps James wouldn¡¯t currently be burning to death in front of them. But he had to make a split-second decision and he chose to kill the Hob-Koala before it blew them all up.


    No matter how this played out, he wouldn¡¯t be made to feel guilty about making the hard choice. Sometimes there is no right choice, just the one you have to live with.


    ¡°Baz¡­¡± James croaked, his lips peeling back as they burned away, revealing his bleeding gums and white teeth, ¡°it hurts.¡±


    The burly man in John¡¯s arms wailed, reaching his hand towards his dying brother. He had given up all attempts to struggle against John¡¯s grip.


    James reached back; his hand barely recognisable as human after the flames had burned all the flesh from his bones. They watched for a long moment as the fire died down to embers, smoke rose from James whose body had been reduced to a charred skeleton, his skin melted and blackened.


    How is he still alive? John wondered as another wiper caught in the man¡¯s throat mixed with laboured breathing.


    ¡°Shoot him,¡± Baz whimpered, ¡°shoot him! He¡¯s suffered enough¡­ let him¡­ let him go quickly.¡±


    Answering with a single, solemn nod, John summoned one of his revolvers and raised it towards the man¡¯s melting head. James looked at him with pleading eyes, perhaps even some solace of relief as he realised what John planned to do for him.


    Squeezing his eyes shut for just a moment, John flexed his trigger finger when Joanna stepped in front of him. Releasing his finger he looked up at the back of the blonde woman. Was she trying to protect James? Did she not realise that there was nothing that could be done for him?


    Crouching down almost ceremoniously, Joanna bent over the face of the dying, charred man and pulled a soiled knife from within her sleeve.


    Did she take that from a koala?


    Looking into the man¡¯s eyes, she delicately slid the knife behind his ear, piercing the side of his brain.


    His eyes dimmed and he looked¡­ thankful.


    ¡°That was a knowledgeable kill,¡± Truffle whispered, ¡°only a professional would know that the spot behind the ear is weak and makes for a quick death.¡±


    ¡°How did you know about that?¡± John replied.


    ¡°I saw it on The Walking Dead,¡± he said lightly. Anne used to leave the TV on for him when she went out, John had never understood the reasoning behind it personally.


    ¡°Then how do you know that she didn¡¯t see it on that show as well?¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± Truffle said, taking some time to consider his answer, ¡°I guess I don¡¯t. I wonder who her favourite character is? I bet its Daryl.¡± He nodded to himself, looking her over carefully, ¡°it¡¯s probably Daryl.¡±


    Baz sobbed softly in John¡¯s arms as he watched his brother¡¯s euthanasia. It was a mercy, but it was still sickening.


    Joanna¡¯s shoulders heaved as she continued to face the charred, lifeless body. John almost felt bad for her, she had really stepped up, dealing with it in such a caring way showed a lot of bravery and compassion.


    Maybe there¡¯s hope for us yet, John thought as he gazed up at the sky for a silent moment. You will not take our humanity.


    ¡°Hey,¡± he called softly, looking back at the woman. ¡°Are you alright?¡±


    She turned around and John recoiled as he saw the wide grin on her face. Her eyes were gleaming with joy and she was laughing. That was it, that was the off-putting look in her gaze that he¡¯d noticed before. The pure elation of a psychopath. She was enjoying this. John felt physically sick as it dawned on him.


    ¡°I guess everyone deals with grief differently¡­¡± Truffle said.


    ¡°Am I ok?¡± She asked, repeating the question as if she barely understood it. ¡°I feel¡­ amazing.¡±The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    With the bloodied knife still gripped tightly in her hand, she lifted it to her face and inspected it. A strand of charred flesh hung limply from the crimson blade, the smell was revolting, but from the look on the woman¡¯s face, you wouldn¡¯t know.


    Baz stared at her in horror and John wasn¡¯t quite sure what to say. He had a sudden, irrefutable urge to keep his weapon drawn though, which he did, training it on her as she grinned maniacally at her own weapon.


    ¡°Y-you¡­¡± Baz stuttered, ¡°sadistic bitch!


    ¡°Sadistic?¡± She asked, cocking her head to the side slightly, ¡°it was a mercy killing. Would you have preferred to watch him suffer? Just think of the possibilities,¡± she looked at the knife in wonder, ¡°the power. I can liberate them.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d have preferred that you didn¡¯t take such pleasure in it!¡± Baz yelled, breaking free of John¡¯s arms and standing up, squaring off against Joanna. ¡°He was a person¡­ h-he had a wife. He was my-¡±


    ¡°He was dead either way¡­ we all are,¡± she replied, cutting him off and furrowing her brow as if she couldn¡¯t quite comprehend his outrage. ¡°My feelings on the matter couldn¡¯t have changed that. I did him a service, so what if I found it exhilarating? The longer this game goes on the more you¡¯ll meet people who agree with me. This is a death game, not a snowflake, hugs and cake parade. Grow up. Can¡¯t you see it?¡±


    She practically spat those last words as her lips curled in disgust for the mortified heavy-set man stood before her.


    ¡°See what?¡± Baz asked, dejected. She didn¡¯t reply, instead continuing to stare intently at the blade as James¡¯ blood glinted peacefully upon it. Baz¡¯ head drooped, his shoulders followed, like a robot shutting down. He backed away and moved to lean against the palm tree, muttering to himself.


    ¡°You enjoy the killing,¡± John asked, keeping his revolver trained on the woman, ¡°don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°It seems so,¡± she replied in a low, wonderous voice. ¡°Who would have thought? The only reason I stepped up to the plate was because I thought it¡¯d be an easy kill. We were advised to kill people. To end their suffering. This seemed like¡­ like a mercy. Still¡­ I guess it all makes sense now. For every person I kill that¡¯s one less person able to kill me. This is a battle royale after all, that math speaks for itself. I¡¯m helping them.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s certainly one way to look at it,¡± John replied slowly, ¡°though it¡¯s a little unhinged. Seems to me that you¡¯re only helping yourself. There¡¯s no salvation in death, no hope.¡±


    ¡°Isn¡¯t there?¡± She asked, crouching down to look him in the eyes, ¡°I didn¡¯t ask for this, but that doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m going to lay down and die either. I can help these people and myself. You agree with me don¡¯t you? We¡¯re the same, you and I. Honestly it¡¯s probably better for people like them to die early. They¡¯re too weak. This game was made for the likes of us.¡±


    She gestured offhandedly towards Baz who leaned against the tree with a faraway stare. Joanna¡¯s words sounded like a verbal eyeroll.


    Them, it almost felt distasteful.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do whatever it takes to survive this,¡± John said evenly, though despite his best efforts he couldn¡¯t quite suppress dissatisfaction from showing in his tone. ¡°But I don¡¯t enjoy it. I don¡¯t take pleasure in it. We are not the same.¡±


    ¡°Deny it all you want,¡± Joanna said teasingly, ¡°but your eyes told a different story during that boss fight. You like the violence, you¡¯re just in denial. Eventually I think you¡¯ll come to see that we have more in common than you think.¡±


    She stood up and turned on her heels, her toned lower body was directly in John¡¯s eyeline, though any previous attraction he might have had towards her was gone.


    ¡°Wait!¡± He yelled as she began to walk away.


    His revolver was still aimed squarely at her chest, though she didn¡¯t seem to care.


    ¡°What?¡± she asked incredulously, ¡°are you going to shoot me, John Doe? I thought you didn¡¯t like killing.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m thinking about it,¡± he replied. He couldn¡¯t just let her walk away. She was unhinged, a danger to everyone else in the vicinity, in the game.


    ¡°I could have killed you any time I wanted you know,¡± she said. That was when he felt a slight tickle on the back of his neck.


    ¡°Boss, look out!¡± Truffle shouted, headbutting his shoulder in a vain attempt to move him out of the way.


    One of the koala¡¯s knives was floating behind him, the cold steel pressed against his skin. He gulped as a tingle shot down his spine.


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you?¡± He asked the mad woman, placing his free hand on the pig¡¯s head and stroking him gently.


    ¡°It¡¯s more interesting this way,¡± she replied, biting her bottom lip playfully. ¡°When we fight for real, my views are going to skyrocket. I see potential in you, Killer. You don¡¯t need salvation.¡±


    With that she turned around once more and began walking towards one of the many alleyways that led into the open space.


    John kept his gun trained on her, he wanted to squeeze the trigger, a part of him knew that it would only cause problems down the line to allow her to live.


    However, the cold steel tickling the back of his neck unnerved him. His wife had told him to win and he couldn¡¯t do that with a severed spinal cord.


    With great effort he forced himself to lower his pistol, slammed his fist into the blood-soaked grass beneath him and as she disappeared, the knife clattered to the ground behind him.


    They sat in silence for a while: the pig and the two men. One slumped against a tree, the other staring at the ground as his new jeans soaked up the scarlet wetness surrounding him. It was safe to say that they were never going to be the same shade of blue again.


    ¡°That¡¯s a shame,¡± Truffle said eventually, leaning his small head in John¡¯s lap. ¡°I thought for sure she was going to be the love interest.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m married Truffle,¡± John replied with a sad laugh, ¡°¡­ to your owner¡­ remember?¡±


    ¡°Oh of course, the mistress Anne!¡± He said, perking up at the mention of her. In that moment, John realised that he probably should have just stayed quiet. ¡°Now that we¡¯ve finished this challenge, we should really go and look for her. I bet she¡¯s here, in this city.¡±


    ¡°I doubt it,¡± he replied with a sigh, ¡°besides, we still have a card to collect. Assuming our deal still stands?¡± He said, raising his voice so Baz could hear him.


    They had technically made a pact that the card would belong to the one to land the killing blow on the Hob-Koala and that was John. Though Baz still stared helplessly into space and he doubted the stubby man heard him or cared.


    Quest Complete:


    The Hob-Koala Hullabaloo


    Objectives:


    Kill the Hob-Koala 1/1


    Survive 1/1


    Reward:


    1/3 chance to receive a new card.


    That took its time, John thought as the quest completion notification popped up in front of him. Did they delay it so it wouldn¡¯t interrupt the drama?


    Quickly checking his current views in the interface, he saw that more than three million people were watching. The entire ordeal had been entertaining to them. They¡¯d watched James burn alive and enjoyed it. Who the hell were these aliens?


    I hate this fucking game.


    He noticed grimly that the odds of getting the card as a reward had increased with the death of James and the disappearance of Joanna.


    Alrighty folks, wasn¡¯t that exciting? The announcer¡¯s jovial voice boomed out around them, making Truffle jump, but failing to rouse Baz from his despair. Fights, drama, death, betrayal, this challenge had it all! But now it¡¯s time for the moment you¡¯ve all been waiting for. Who will get the card?


    ¡°Me, obviously,¡± John said aloud as he stood up and walked towards the remains of the Hob-Koala. Knowing that the announcer had purposefully waited, likely entertained by the horrifying scene that had just played out, left a sour taste on his tongue.


    The Hob-Koala¡¯s metal skeleton was still smouldering and the stench of burnt flesh got stronger as he approached. Still though, after everything they¡¯d gone through to defeat it, he wasn¡¯t going to let this card go to waste.


    He needed it to get through the next torii gate, he needed it to get stronger, he needed it¡­ to survive.


    CRUNCH.


    The sickening sound of crunching metal scraping against teeth jolted John from his thoughts. Looking to the side he saw Truffle, happily munching on a piece of skin covered metal.


    Is he eating the Hob-Koala?


    ¡°Bad Truffle, that¡¯s gross,¡± John chastised.


    ¡°You¡¯re telling me,¡± the pig replied, ¡°it tastes all irony and wrong. Nothing at all like how I expected¡­ ooh, I got a notification!¡±

 Chapter 13 – Soul Devourer

    ¡°What do you mean you got a notification?¡± John asked, but he¡¯d already guessed what had happened.


    ¡°Boss!¡± Truffle shouted gleefully, ¡°I got a card, and it¡¯s really cool too. Ooh I¡¯m gonna have so much fun with this.¡±


    John sighed and shook his head. He¡¯d wanted that card for himself, though a part of him was happy that his companion had one now as well. It¡¯d definitely be useful to have an ally with him that could actually fight, assuming the card power was any good.


    Did this mean Truffle was a contestant? The implications of what that could mean later down the line twisted John¡¯s stomach in knots. He suppressed that feeling though, for the time being at least.


    ¡°What does it do?¡± He asked the pig, trying to convey happiness in his tone.


    ¡°It¡¯s called Soul Devourer,¡± Truffle replied, sounding out all the syllables of the card name like a child learning to read for the first time. ¡°Here, let me read it to you.


    ¡°Soul Devourer: This is a full stack card that allows the user to store up to three powers gained by eating their enemies. Stored powers expire after twelve hours. Accepting Soul Devourer into your soul will mean that you cannot add any more cards to your deck for the remainder of the game. Full stack cards are a deck unto themselves.¡±


    ¡°A deck unto themselves?¡± John repeated contemplatively.


    Did that mean that Truffle had just gained the equivalent of four cards? Did it also count as a soul card? Would he be able to get through the gate now? It seemed too good to be true. Buck had said that you got better cards from challenges, but John was starting to wonder if there was more to that. Did competing in challenges guarantee a card that would fit with your build? Truffle didn¡¯t have a build, but he had openly expressed an interest in eating things.


    Then again, it could have been because he ingested the card that its power manifested that way. Either way, the power was completely unrelated to the nature of the mob he¡¯d gotten it from which suggested that, had John gotten the card, it would have been a completely different power all together. He had so many questions and so few answers. This system was an enigma and John wondered if he¡¯d ever be able to truly understand how it worked.


    He sat for a moment with a blank look on his face as he continued trying to untangle the knot in his brain. The system had clearly stated that a contestant needed to collect four cards and a soul card to pass through the gate.


    However, according to Truffle, this card classed as a full deck. That seemed like a bit of a loophole to John, but then again, he still wasn¡¯t certain that Truffle counted as a contestant. Was he a wild card? A pet? Was that why he was given this full stack card? John had no way of knowing, but he needed to find out. He had so little information to go on.


    Knowledge is power, he thought, yet he feared he had so little knowledge of this game. Hopefully that wouldn¡¯t bite him in the ass later down the line.


    ¡°That sounds super OP,¡± he eventually replied with a forced smile.


    ¡°I know!¡± the teacup pig replied, padding the ground in excitement, ¡°and, because I just ate some of that boss guy, I already have a stored power.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡± John asked, feeling a little excited himself, the pig¡¯s energy was contagious.


    ¡°It lets me snort Phosphorus.¡±


    ¡°What the actual fuck,¡± John said, making a conscious effort to stop his mouth from hanging open.


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what I thought too,¡± Truffle replied, lowering his head, ¡°it¡¯s a terrible power. I like my food rare; how can I eat my enemies if I have to burn them to a crisp to kill them? No one wants that, Boss.¡±


    ¡°James always liked his steak well done,¡± Baz murmured as he pulled himself away from the tree. ¡°I told him, I said: brother, meat should be rare. That¡¯s where all the flavour is, but he never listened to me.¡±


    John turned to stare at the man with a pitying expression as he staggered towards them, head hung low like a zombie.


    He was as good as dead on his own. He had no card, no family, just a few knives on a bandolier slung over his chest and he hadn¡¯t even thought to use them during the fight.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    ¡°I guess he died as something he loved,¡± Truffle said in a sincere and contemplative tone and John¡¯s jaw dropped as he stared wide eyed towards the pig. Had he really just compared the man¡¯s brother to a well-done steak? The comparison was accurate, but highly inappropriate.


    Despite the morbidity of it, John had to suppress his desire to laugh as he turned his head away from the grieving, former twin.


    ¡°Huh,¡± Baz replied, looking down at the morose teacup pig, ¡°I guess he did.¡±


    The man chuckled a little as his shoulders bounced slightly, though the laughter didn¡¯t reach his red, puffy eyes.


    ¡°You hear that you damned fool,¡± he shouted, turning towards the charred corpse, ¡°you let that god damned robot turn you into burnt meat. How many times have I told you that rare is where all the flavour is?¡± He moved towards the body slowly, chuckling as he shouted at it. His laughter was erratic, unhinged even.


    ¡°How many times,¡± he said again, quieter, ¡°but you never did listen did you?¡± He dropped to his knees and the rising and falling of his shoulders took on a jerkier motion. ¡°You damned fool.¡± His chuckling devolved into quiet sobs as he kneeled next to his dead sibling, refusing to look away from his charred face as salty tears dripped from his nose, landing on the exposed bone and burnt flesh and sizzling.


    John sighed and turned away, the least he could do was give the man some privacy. Though in this game, he wasn¡¯t sure it existed.


    Motioning for Truffle to follow him, he walked a few paces away where they could talk without interrupting Baz.


    ¡°We need to get out of here,¡± he said quietly, glancing up at the sun which sat high in the sky. ¡°We need food, water, and a place to spend the night.¡±


    ¡°I can smell the ocean,¡± Truffle said, adding an upwards inflection to the end of word. ¡°Maybe we can go fishing?¡±


    ¡°Fishing?¡± John replied sceptically. ¡°Knowing this place we¡¯ll get attacked by a hoard of shrimp on a barbecue. Don¡¯t you think it¡¯s a little strange that these so-called advanced species have chosen to reduce an entire culture to a few stereotypes? ¡°I mean, so far we¡¯ve fought a kangaroo with boxing gloves, a Whowie - whatever the fuck that was supposed to be - and a pack of koalas. On the list of typical things you¡¯d expect to find in Australia, all that¡¯s left are wallabies, spiders, and shrimp on the barbie. It just seems a little juvenile, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    ¡°Boss, I¡¯m pretty sure this game show is their version of daytime television,¡± Truffle said thoughtfully, ¡°I doubt they care about stereotyping, they¡¯re trying to get views, don¡¯t think about it so hard. It¡¯s trash TV.¡±


    John raised an eyebrow at the little pig and placed his hands on his hips. ¡°When did you get so insightful?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve always been a font of wisdom; you just couldn¡¯t understand me before.¡±


    ¡°Is that right?¡± John replied, ¡°so that time I caught you chewing Anne¡¯s shoe was wise was it?¡±


    ¡°A pig¡¯s gotta eat?¡± He said happily, ¡°So, can we go catch some fishes?¡±


    John nodded and before they left the area, he looked back towards Baz he was still sobbing quietly over his brother. He thought about inviting him to join them, but decided it was better not to interrupt. In this game it was probably safer to be a solo player. Joanna¡¯s words rang in his mind this is a battle royale after all, the math speaks for itself. It would be better this way. Perhaps he¡¯d give him a fish if he ran into him later.


    Together with Truffle, he stomped through the bloody wasteland that had been left behind after the challenge. It was disgusting. Guts, gore, blood, viscera, fur, charred flesh and limbs were scattered like a flower field in hell.


    It was suffocating, the smell seemed to seep into every pore and crevice. His nose stung, his skin felt slimy and the thickness of the air made it hard to breathe. To make it worse, all of those things were underpinned by an overwhelming smell of cordite. He checked his chest where he¡¯d been stabbed by the koala earlier. It had begun to scab over; it seemed to be healing faster than it should have. The knives hadn¡¯t cut him too deep but still, were contestants given faster regeneration in this game?


    John was thankful to get out of there when they reached a nearby alleyway and fled down it. On the other side they reached a promenade and thick scent of death was replaced with a light, salty tinge that tickled John¡¯s nose.


    ¡°See, I told you I smelled the ocean!¡± Truffle said as he trotted across the disused road towards the beach.


    It truly was a magnificently beautiful sight. The ocean looked like paradise. Crystal clear waters lapping over a golden, sandy beach, unblemished by the touch of man and cleaner than the streets behind it.


    As he followed the energetic pig, John noticed a small stall with a sign hanging over it. It was a little wooden structure and inside it there was a plethora of fishing rods, bait, tackle, and buckets.


    Ask the alien overlords and they shall provide, he thought dourly, wondering if this shack had manifested purely because Truffle has openly expressed a desire to fish.


    A sign hung lazily above the stall, clanging lightly in the breeze. It read: A Perth-ect Day For Fishing.


    Ignoring it, he leant over and grabbed two rods and some other fishing equipment before continuing to follow Truffle.


    Why he¡¯d picked up two rods was beyond him. Truffle didn¡¯t have apposable thumbs. John would have to be the one to do the actual fishing. Sadly, he didn¡¯t even have a six pack to accompany the laborious activity. The entire point of fishing was the drinking that accompanied it and it was the perfect weather to crack open a cold one.


    They walked along the beach a short way before setting up next to the sea. John knew it wouldn¡¯t be as easy to fish in such shallow water as it would have been on a pier, but there wasn¡¯t one so he¡¯d have to make do.


    ¡°Get in there, Boss!¡± Truffle squealed happily, ¡°Momma¡¯s got a hankering for fresh mackerel.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a boy,¡± John called back, ¡°and I doubt we¡¯ll catch any mackerel here.¡±


    Grumbling, he pulled off his boots, rolled up his blood-soaked jeans and waded into the shallows. The water was waist high before he cast his line and after a few hours of boredom and barely three fish in his bucket, he found himself thinking once again about the shrimp.


    ¡°I really thought there would be a giant shrimp monster.¡±

 Chapter 14 – The Last Room On The Left

    Joanna strolled merrily through the concrete jungle, fiddling absently with her knife as she went.


    Her eyes stung the way they often did after pulling all-nighters, her brain felt foggy but elated at the same time. She just couldn¡¯t get that mysterious cowboy out of her mind.


    She knew that killing him would have been the safe option. He seemed the kind to track her down and lynch her after the stunt she¡¯d pulled and though she wouldn¡¯t have been opposed to him tying her up, she wasn¡¯t willing to die for it either.


    We¡¯re the same, he just hasn¡¯t realised it yet.


    Her stomach somersaulted as the lewd image entered her mind and she shook her head trying to displace the thought. Was this Bonny and Clyde syndrome she was experiencing? The thrill of the kill awakening a strange new desire within her?


    It was certainly possible; all of this was so new to her after all. She¡¯d killed her second person today. The first time wasn¡¯t fun. It was a murder born of rage and hatred. It was sickening, it was necessary. This second murder had been different though. She was doing the man a favour, offering him salvation and sparing him from the pain the game had caused. He was weak, too weak to survive in this harsh new world.


    Murder was a harsh term, she decided. After all, it genuinely was a mercy killing. So what if she had enjoyed it? Her own feelings, her own elation, they didn¡¯t change the fact that she had done him a favour. She had saved him. It had been a kindness. So why did the brother¡¯s hateful eyes bother her so much?


    What was that yokel¡¯s problem? Shouting at her and calling her a bitch. She¡¯d done his brother a favour, Bazzledazzle was too cowardly to do himself. What kind of a name was that anyway? Bazzledazzle, there was nothing even remotely dazzling about him.


    John Doe on the other hand¡­ now that was a man worth keeping an eye on.


    Joanna knew that she needed to keep her ratings up if she wanted to survive. Powerful sponsors and the love of the public were always important. Nothing had changed in that regard. Tanlan had inferred as much. She had to be entertaining if she wanted to survive. She had to survive to reach her goal, to enact her revenge. If she could give the weak a painless death in the process then all the better.


    In life, just as in this game show, nothing secured a career like the monetary backing of a wealthy conglomerate, and she was going to make sure she got one. She had to.


    First though, she needed to find somewhere to spend the night and get some food. A high protein diet was paramount to staying in top physical condition, or so she¡¯d read in a health article recently. Fuelling the muscles was going to be an important factor in the longevity of surviving the game.


    After all, no one knew how long it would last and if she could be sent anywhere in the world when she entered the next gate, chances were that her ability to keep her body strong would be crucial. She had to become a warrior. There were no two ways about it.


    After wandering through the deserted city streets for a while she eventually came across a tavern with the lights on. It was a little hole in wall style drinking establishment with a glowing, green neon sign hanging above the door.


    Watering Hole was emblazoned in glowing letters and Joanna pushed the door open carefully. Creeping around the frame as it creaked slightly, she found herself looking upon a strange creature.


    It was a triceratops with the bodily structure of a human, two legs, torso, arms, hands, it looked positively ghoulish. She loved it.


    The dinosaur was wearing a neat, black fedora with a red band around it¡¯s middle and a dark, checkered suit with a pocket watch chain hanging regally from its waistcoat pocket.


    ¡°Welcome madame,¡± it said in a posh English accent, barely looking up from the glass it was polishing. ¡°Please, come in and take a seat.¡±


    Tentatively she obeyed, pushing through the door and taking light steps towards the creature. She kept her pilfered knife up the sleeve of her leather jacket and held the feeling of her card power on the edge of her thoughts.


    The dinosaur seemed pleasant enough, but she wouldn¡¯t be caught off guard if things soured.


    ¡°What are you?¡± She eventually asked as she pulled up a barstool, refusing to remove her eyes from its pointy face.


    ¡°What I am is not important,¡± he replied in a voice that held a certain melodious quality, ¡°what I can do for you however¡­¡±


    Intrigued, she leaned forward on her elbows and stared up at him through the tops of her eyes, waiting for him to continue.


    Without looking at her, he said, ¡°you need cards to pass through the gate and it just so happens there¡¯s one ripe for the taking right here, in this very establishment. The executives are happy to let you take it, assuming of course that you¡¯re willing to make it¡­ entertaining. They¡¯ve been watching you and I think we could form quite the partnership you and I.¡±


    ¡°Oh my scaley little friend,¡± Joanna cooed, ¡°you have no idea how entertaining I can be.¡±


    ***


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Joanna left Watering Hole a little under ten minutes later. Flames licked at her back as the smell of burning alcohol and human flesh clung to her nostrils.


    The screams of the dying echoed in the abandoned city streets and she smirked, flipping her new card playfully in her fingers before sliding it into her solar plexus.


    I am their salvation.


    ***


    ¡°I hate being right!¡± John yelled as he and Truffle sprinted desperately along the street.


    Behind them, a kaiju sized shrimp holding a lit barbecue raced after them on comically tiny legs. Apparently it wasn¡¯t enough for the showrunners to introduce yet another stereotypical regional monster, they also had to make it utterly ridiculous and able to travel on land.


    The viewers must be loving this, John thought scathingly as he darted down a side street.


    Not one to run at the first sign of danger, John had already attempted to fight the beast. When he¡¯d cast his line for the last time that day and had almost been reeled in himself by the monster, he¡¯d pulled out both of his pistols and emptied round after round into its shell.


    However, this shrimp was hardier than one might expect and the ricocheting bullets were reflected back at him, nearly turning him into Swiss cheese. Realising that the shrimp¡¯s shell was bullet proof, he decided to run.


    Though the shrimp kaiju was fast, thankfully, it wasn¡¯t very agile. Whilst John darted down the side street with the agility and grace of a cat, the kaiju smashed headlong into the corner building before managing to complete a turn and follow them.


    ¡°Boss, over there, an open door!¡± Truffle squealed as they reached roughly the halfway mark of the side street.


    Knowing that they simply didn¡¯t have the stamina to outrun the shrimp forever, John dived through the open door and hoped for the best.


    Panting violently as his lungs threatened to punch a hole through his chest, John kicked the door shut from his position on his back and did everything he could to quiet his breathing.


    The room shook as the kaiju stormed down the street, its tiny legs causing a miniature earthquake with each bouncing stride.


    John and Truffle waited silently as the steps neared and then began to fade.


    ¡°I think it went past us,¡± Truffle whispered, nudging John with his snout.


    He nodded and sat up slowly, pulling his hand up to his face. He stopped. His palm was black bright and oily.


    Glancing around his surroundings he realised that the building they had entered seemed to have extensive fire damage. His hand was covered in soot and the bar countertop to his side looked like the remains of a log in a campfire.


    One soft tap and it was likely to crumble to ash.


    ¡°We need to get out of here,¡± he said suddenly in a harsh whisper. ¡°This building could collapse at any second.¡±


    Though he didn¡¯t say it aloud, he had also concluded that if the giant shrimp came back and found them it could easily break through the wall, trapping them and covering them in rubble.


    As if on cue the rumbling footsteps of the kaiju rocked the floor and ash fell from the ceiling like black snow.


    ¡°We can¡¯t go back out there, Boss,¡± Truffle replied, trying and failing to keep his voice low, he shivered slightly as he glanced nervously towards the door. ¡°Maybe there¡¯s a back door?¡±


    Before John could stop him he trotted off into the back rooms.


    ¡°Wait,¡± he shout-whispered after the pig, ¡°it¡¯s not safe!¡±


    With a huff, he pulled himself off the floor, wiped his hands on his thoroughly soiled jeans, and followed after Truffle.


    There was an odd stench in the air, one that he almost recognised. It was burnt, pungent and foreboding. It made his skin tingle and feel slimy and uncomfortable. His nose hairs seemed to latch on to the smell as if it was warning him of something. It was thick, all-encompassing and oppressive.


    Stumbling over destroyed bar stools and through mounds of ash he found himself wandering through a series of back rooms that seemed to be sleeping quarters. Destroyed beds and charred nightstands littered the rooms and they reminded him of the post-nuclear houses in a Fallout game. It was repulsive and dirty.


    ¡°Truffle,¡± he whisper-shouted, ¡°where the hell have you gone, we need to leave!¡±


    ¡°In here,¡± the pig replied, but his usual joviality was gone.


    John walked wearily past a few more rooms before his eyes landed on the black spotted teacup pig standing still inside the last room on the left. His snout was ruffling up and down as he sniffed at something and then backed away slowly.


    Taking a step inside the room, John saw what his companion had been smelling.


    Laid on a burnt-out bed was the charred remains of a family of three. Two men and their daughter, or what was left of them, their faces immortalised in an eternal scream.


    Etched onto the wall above their heads in jagged knife marks were the words I am their salvation. Thin whisps of smoke danced through the air in ringlets, leaving their corpses peacefully.


    However, nothing else about the scene was peaceful. This was recent, red clumps of flesh and scarce clumps of hair clung to the skin made charcoal and John gritted his teeth in anger.


    ¡°Joanna,¡± he growled under his breath, ¡°what was the point?¡±


    ¡°Experience points?¡± Truffle asked, ¡°I think I recognise these people.¡± The pig snuffled a burned hand which disintegrated into ash. A clatter rang out across the room and John bent down to pick up a tarnished wedding ring.


    Engraved on the inside was the words: I love you Frank, always and forever.


    John stumbled backwards. Truffle was right, they did know these people. The Johnsons. They lived over the road from John and Anne. They had entered the portal shortly before he had. They had a kid. His eyes washed over the tiny, blackened corpse and began to water.


    Skill activated:


    Trauma response.


    ¡°Fuck you,¡± he said quietly to the roof as the skill took hold, quelling his upset and preventing tears from fully falling. Taking a deep breath, he spoke to Truffle in a low whisper. ¡°It can¡¯t be for experience. I don¡¯t understand why she did this. The only thing we¡¯ve been able to get so far are shards and cards¡­¡± he trailed off as the realisation dawned on him and, squinting for a closer inspection of the bodies, he noticed a hole in Frank¡¯s sternum.


    Subconsciously, he placed his hand over his solar plexus and gulped. His card felt warm there, like a second heart. If his suspicions were right, then this game had just gotten even deadlier.


    It seemed it was possible to steal other people¡¯s cards by ripping them out of their bodies.


    ¡°Come on Truffle we¡¯re leaving,¡± he said hurriedly, backing out of the room and marching towards the door with his fists clenched and his mind wandering elsewhere as an idea began to form.


    ¡°But what about the shrimp?¡± The pig called after him. John did not reply. His skills may have stunted his ability to be traumatised and sad, but it didn¡¯t prevent him from being angry, and he was furious.


    You will not take my humanity.


    He¡¯d spent a lifetime without being exposed to dead children and burnt corpses and in a single day he¡¯d seen four, over two separate incidents. He felt oddly responsible. He should have killed her, even if it risked his own life. He wouldn¡¯t make that mistake a second time.


    ¡°I have a plan for the shrimp,¡± he eventually said as he reached the front room, Truffle hot on his heels and panting. ¡°Do you still have access to that power you got from the Hob-Koala?¡±


    ¡°I think so, it hasn¡¯t been twelve hours yet has it?¡±


    ¡°Good, because I¡¯ve heard great things about Australian street food and we¡¯re going to put fried shrimp on the menu. Then we¡¯re going psycho hunting.¡±

 Chapter 15 – The Best Seafood In The Galaxy

    The door burst into ash and debris as John kicked it open and marched through onto the street outside. Looking down the left-hand side of the enclosed carriageway he spotted his target and summoned his guns.


    The shrimp looked at him and as they locked eyes, time stopped.


    New Quest:


    Shrimp On The Barbie


    Objective:


    Kill the shrimp 0/1


    Reward:


    X100 shards


    Well look what we have here folks, the familiar and jovial voice of the announcer chimed from all around and inside them. Our cowardly little duo have finally grown back bones! But will they become the main course on tonight¡¯s menu? In this corner, weighing in at 567 pounds, Barbie the Shrimp, though there¡¯s nothing shrimpy about this princess, just look at the size of those claws. Annnddd in this corner, weighing in at 185 pounds and sporting a face that¡¯s sure to make even the most stoic baby cry, it¡¯s John Doe and his partner Trrruufffllleeeee! Ding! Ding! Ding!


    Time restarted and John flew into action, rushing down the street and firing off a barrage of bullets into the armoured giant.


    Like clockwork, the shrimp focused on him and began angrily gnashing its pincers as it dashed towards him on comically small legs which moved in blur beneath it.


    Sprinting towards the kaiju and regretting his cobbled together, last minute plan, John dropped to his knees and slid underneath the behemoth like Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing.


    He fired round after round at its underside, hoping that it would be unprotected. That was a mistake.


    The underside of the kaiju became a death gauntlet in seconds as its belly shell reflected the rounds causing them to ricochet between it and the pavement below, with John trapped in the middle.


    ¡°Fuck, fuck, fuck, fucckk!¡± He yelled as he danced around on his knees, narrowly avoiding his own bullets and adding stylish new holes to his new duster as he went.


    The duster was armoured, but it wasn¡¯t bulletproof just yet and John rolled out of the underside of the beast and took a brief moment to catch his breath.


    ***


    Truffle was a gallant steed galloping into battle behind his master. As John ran, with both arms raised, firing at tonight¡¯s dinner, Truffle stuck to the opposite side of the street and tried to remain inconspicuous as he approached the shrimp.


    John¡¯s plan seemed sound in theory, though Truffle was still hesitant to ruin such a good meal by cooking it. Still, if that was the plan then he¡¯d have to grit his teeth and do it anyway.


    As John slid underneath the beast, Truffle reached the fire escape nearby. He trotted up the stairs, one step at a time.


    The wind was fierce as he got higher up and looking down over the street made his head spin. Was this what it felt like to be big? He¡¯d spent his whole life the size of a man¡¯s shoe, being able to see over the tops of the smaller buildings was¡­ terrifying.


    He tried to move his trotters, but they were frozen to the ground. His stomach flopped inside of him and he feared that he might vomit at any moment.


    Eyes spinning like Mistress Anne after a night out, the world seemed hazy and it was all moving too fast. He needed to get down. He needed to get his trotters back on solid ground.


    Was this how tall people always felt? Perhaps from this high up you could feel the Earth rotating in space, was that what the spinning was? Either way, Truffle didn¡¯t like it one bit.


    The world shook violently and his back trotter slipped through the gap in the steps, hanging in mid-air.


    He yelped and hurriedly pulled it back up.


    Who makes stairs with gaps this big? He thought as his panicked brain tried desperately to make sense of the spinning.


    Something moved out of the corner of his eye and he saw the shrimp turning around to face John who was stood behind it now with his hands on his knees, panting.


    He glanced up at Truffle but didn¡¯t say anything. He didn¡¯t have to.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    The teacup pig had known John since a few weeks after he¡¯d been born, sometimes he thought he knew that man better than he knew himself. John needed him and no amount of scary steps and spinning was going to stop Truffle from protecting him.


    For the Boss!


    ***


    John dived to the side as the oversized barbecue grill, clutched tightly in the shrimp¡¯s claw, impacted the concrete.


    The ground split open and a burst pipe sprayed water high into the air causing rainbow colours to glitter and stream across John¡¯s vision.


    Deftly, he rolled to the side and got to his feet, being careful not to fall up the curb. Hot coals spilled out of the barbecue¡¯s lid and rained down around him, sizzling as the water droplets forced steam to puff out of the red and black rocks.


    A faint mist covered the side street and John used the distraction to take a moment to carefully aim up at the shrimp.


    Relying on his locate weakness and marksmanship skills to take the wheel, he raised a single pistol, with both hands, up at the crustacean¡¯s face. Something tingled in the back of his mind and a hunch formed.


    Shrimp have eyes, though small ones, and they also have mouths. If he wanted his bullets to pierce its flesh then he¡¯d need to find a way to hit the soft parts.


    He already knew that of course, that was why he¡¯d originally tried to get underneath the monster. However, shooting out the eyes of a monster that was taller than a building with eyes smaller than golf balls was a tall order.


    John was seriously hoping that there was another way, but his skill hadn¡¯t steered him wrong this far so there probably wasn¡¯t.


    He raised the golden inlayed revolver with both hands, dropping its twin back into his card, and closed one eye. John had been taught to shoot before the world went to shit and he knew that tactically, closing one eye was dangerous.


    There was a school of thought that suggested keeping both eyes open to prevent being caught off guard by narrowing your field of vision.


    That may have been good advice in a war zone, but John¡¯s only opponent was a giant shrimp, how much could it really catch him off guard when he was staring up at its face? Besides, he¡¯d always found it easier to aim with one eye closed, doing so centred his vision and calmed him.


    Aiming at the right eye, he carefully squeezed the trigger and the round exploded from the chamber¡­ and bounced harmlessly off the shrimp¡¯s cheek.


    Wait, do shrimps have cheeks? He thought before suddenly finding himself flying through the air, a burning pain shooting through his side and displacing the breath from his lungs.


    A giant claw struck him in the ribs on his left side and launched him through the steaming cloud. He landed on the concrete, dazed and in pain.


    So much for not being caught off guard, he thought sullenly as he coughed and spluttered and pulled himself up from the ground.


    The shrimp advanced, dented barbecue in hand¡­ or rather, in claw¡­ John staggered to the side looking around for a spot to retreat to but there was none. He was trapped between a kaiju and a building. The street looked like the aftermath of a natural disaster and as he tried to run to the side, he realised his ankle was twisted.


    ¡°Truffle!¡± He shouted, panic evident in his voice, ¡°any time now!¡±


    He lifted his pistols and began firing alternatively into the shrimp¡¯s face. Round after round bounced off its shell but he only needed one shot to hit its target to win. If he couldn¡¯t do that using precision then he¡¯d have to attempt suppressing fire in the hope that he¡¯d get lucky.


    The shrimp advanced until it was the only thing filling his vision. Lifting its barbecue up in the air it prepared to turn John into a pancake.


    He kept firing and wondered if this was going to be his final moment. Where the hell was Truffle? He was the linchpin to John¡¯s brilliant, and cobbled together at the last possible second, plan. He needed his companion. The plan hadn¡¯t been perfect and there had been one gaping hole in his idea, but they could still pull it off, he just needed Truffle to act.


    John had originally hoped to topple the shrimp from underneath by shooting at the weak spot he¡¯d hoped it had there, then Truffle was supposed to snort phosphorus bombs at it from above to finish it off.


    Well you know what they say about best laid plans, he thought as he stared into the eyes of the kaiju, which swung its barbecue down at him, the remaining few coals spilling out and falling onto him, sizzling his duster.


    ¡°Cowabunga!¡±


    Heat lashed at John¡¯s skin from above and he had to raise his hands to his brow to shield his eyes from the brilliant flames.


    Truffle soared through the air like a chubby little bird, snorting phosphorus like he had flamethrowers in his nostrils.


    Searing scarlet flames latched onto the crustacean¡¯s face and it let out an ear-splitting scream as it staggered backwards, dropping the outdoor kitchen grill it had been using as a weapon.


    ¡°Holy shit,¡± John whispered, staring on in awe as his pig torched the fucker. ¡°That smells delicious.¡±


    The shrimp threw its claws to its face and began desperately batting at the sticky flames but it was no use. Its eyes must have caught some of the blast because it seemed to be burning from the inside out. Either that or the heat from the flames was causing it to cook inside its own shell. John wasn¡¯t sure that Truffle¡¯s power would emit enough heat for that, but it would seem that he stood corrected.


    He¡¯d never been too fond of seafood, but today he thought he might make an exception.


    Steam leaked from the shell as the delectable smell of cooked shrimp wafted through the air, marred only by the horrifying, high pitched screams of the dying monster.


    Apparently killing things with fire was on today¡¯s agenda¡­


    ¡°Bossss!¡± Truffle screamed and John was woken from his reverie by the growing shadow that was cast on the ground in front of him,


    Looking up, he saw Truffle falling at an alarming speed and he ran underneath the shadow, hoping to catch him. The little pig had just saved his life and he wasn¡¯t about to let him splatter against the pavement.


    However, with his twisted ankle John¡¯s movement was stunted and Truffle was falling faster than he could walk. In a flash of inspired desperation he dived forwards with both arms outstretched and caught the pig, pulling him close to his chest as he rolled on the ground, pain shooting through his lower leg.


    ¡°Thanks buddy,¡± he said as the shivering teacup pig nuzzled into his chest. He was warm and so small, like a child.


    Wow, what a show that turned out to be! We had fights, fears, drama, injury, everything you could hope to see so early on in Battle Royale Earth. And if watching the fire show made you as hungry as it made me, do I have a treat for you! Here¡¯s a little word from our sponsors who have the best seafood in the galaxy.


    Static filled the air for a moment and John was pretty certain it was all over.


    ¡°Sponsors, seriously?¡± He said, shaking his head and struggling to get to his feet.


    ¡°It¡¯s a game show, of course it has sponsors,¡± Truffle replied, seeming to have regained his usual energetic composure. ¡°And if we keep putting on shows like this, maybe we¡¯ll have our own soon.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve got a long way to go before that buddy. First we need cards and-¡±


    ¡°No, first¡± the pig interrupted, ¡°we need to find somewhere to stay for the night. You¡¯re injured and I¡¯m starving.¡±

 Chapter 16 – I’m Your Guy

    John stood in an awkward position, trying to keep the weight off his twisted ankle, when the notification came through.


    Quest Complete:


    Shrimp On The Barbie


    Objective:


    Kill the shrimp 1/1


    Reward:


    X100 shards


    With a sly smile he closed off the quest completion window and looked towards Truffle who was tentatively sniffing the cooked carcass of Barbie the shrimp.


    He lifted his nose up in disgust and took a step back, bowing his head as he turned back, looking utterly dejected.


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to eat it?¡± John asked through gritted teeth, the pain in his body was getting worse now the adrenaline of battle was wearing off.


    ¡°It smells yucky,¡± the teacup pig moaned, ¡°I hate overcooked food.¡±


    ¡°But you might get a new power.¡±


    ¡°I said I hate overcooked food, Boss,¡± he replied sharply, ¡°No. Thank. You.¡±


    John didn¡¯t understand his reticence, it seemed completely illogical and any new power could be the difference between life and death in this game.


    However, he had more pressing matters than trying to force a pig to eat seafood. He needed a safe place to rest for a while, and he seriously needed some sleep.


    The day¡¯s events had lasted forever and he¡¯d been in more battles and performed more exercise than could possibly be healthy for a normal human in a single day.


    He needed a bed.


    ***


    Buck lounged behind his empty bar, his dreary eyes closing by themselves. Every time he forced them back open, he somehow got even more tired.


    It had been a long day and he wanted nothing more than to curl up behind the bar and let it be over. He wasn¡¯t allowed a bed; it was part of his contract. Not that he was complaining, he wouldn¡¯t dare.


    KNOCK


    KNOCK


    KNOCK


    ¡°Hold your horses I¡¯m coming!¡± He yelled, agitation replacing his dreariness.


    Moving out from behind his bar, he opened the large wooden door. They¡¯d finally returned.


    Took them long enough, he thought in a hazy huff.


    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± The bright-eyed baby orc asked in surprise.


    ***


    ¡°What am I doing here?¡± Buck replied, ¡°this is my diner, where else would I be?¡±


    John staggered inside and to his surprise, the dinosaur was correct. It was the exact same diner they¡¯d stayed in during their time in the outback. The Outback Sleep Shack was emblazoned in a flickering, neon glow above the bar.


    There were the same stools, the same menu above the countertop which doubled as a TV screen, there was even the same kiosk in the far corner.


    Without hesitation, John stuck his head back outside the door frame. It was the same dreary street they had entered from. Tall buildings surrounded it on either side. It was in the middle of Perth, of that there was no doubt.


    Yet somehow the interior was the identical to the diner they¡¯d found inside the big red monolith in the middle of the outback.


    ¡°Ok Buck, I think you¡¯ve got some explaining to do,¡± John said, staggering towards a bar stool and collapsing into it. His ankle couldn¡¯t take anymore, but he desperately needed answers.


    How could the same diner with the same whacky dinosaur exist in two places at once?


    ¡°Sure, sure,¡± Buck replied with a yawn, ¡°but can we talk about this in the morning? I¡¯m struggling to keep awake as it is. There¡¯s a healing bed in the back, courtesy of the producers. There¡¯s nothing less entertaining than a contestant dying of infection, they want you to die in style. That¡¯s why disease only exists from card powers now.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± John replied, drooping onto the counter, ¡°can I assume that we heal faster out there than we should be able to as well?¡± Buck nodded sleepily, confirming John¡¯s suspicions. ¡°I need to know what¡¯s going on before I can sleep. This is the exact same diner we met you in last time, but we¡¯re in Perth now.¡±


    ¡°If you gathered that much then it doesn¡¯t sound like you need an explanation.¡±


    John glared at the dinosaur through the tops of his eyes and he flinched slightly, stumbling to catch the glass he¡¯d been polishing.


    ¡°Humour me,¡± John said dryly.


    Truffle trotted around the place sniffing at various pieces of furniture and pulling funny faces.


    ¡°Fine, fine,¡± Buck lamented, ¡°remember before when I told you I was kinda like your game guide but also a promoter for the challenges?¡±


    ¡°If you mean do I remember how you lied to me, drugged me and threw me into the gauntlet, then yes Buck, I do.¡±


    ¡°Well, there¡¯s a little more to it than that,¡± the dinosaur squirmed, taking a large step back before continuing. ¡°Each contestant, or unofficial party in your case, gets assigned a guy. I¡¯m your guy. Because you completed the gauntlet, we¡¯re stuck together now. Think of me as a manager, game guide, whatever floats your boat really¡­ that¡¯s me. Each of us were assigned different challenges to give contestants, once they¡¯ve completed them we become linked and our rooms, this diner in my case, transforms into a subspace that¡¯s specifically linked to your DNA. Whenever you enter a designated sleeping area you¡¯ll find me. There are bars, hotels, diners and all sorts of other similar buildings scattered around the game area, every time you enter one it will portal you to this pocket dimension, here, to me.¡±Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°That¡¯s great!¡± Truffle pipped up having finished his inspection of the furniture, ¡°that means we can see you for every meal.¡±


    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell us that before?¡± John asked, raising a single eyebrow.


    ¡°Well you weren¡¯t exactly happy to see me last time and I didn¡¯t fancy taking a bullet, but no harm no foul right?¡± Buck replied, flinching slightly, ¡°there are a lot of rules and quirks in this game and I¡¯m not really supposed to tell you about them without a prompt. The showrunners say that it encourages contestant self-sufficiency.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± John replied with a deep sigh, ¡°Before when you said this isn¡¯t really a safe room, does that mean other contestants can enter?¡±


    ¡°They can, but it¡¯s uncommon. When we first met, but before you tackled the gauntlet, anyone who entered the diner through that first door would have been able to get inside. A few arrived before you. But now that you¡¯ve completed the challenge I was forced to give you, most contestants won¡¯t be able to enter this place.¡±


    Most? John wondered. That means some can. He also remembered the other bodies in the gauntlet. They had to be these other contestants that had found Buck first.


    ¡°Right,¡± he replied slowly. ¡°I¡¯m too tired to be angry at you right now, but you really need to start being more open about this stuff. I¡¯m gonna hit the hay.¡±


    ¡°Good idea,¡± Buck said, ¡°though now the first three days are up you¡¯ll be able to see a recap episode if you want to stay up? It airs at midnight. I¡¯ve been forcing myself to stay awake for it.¡±


    ¡°Ooh, that sounds fun!¡± Truffle squealed, ¡°I wonder if we¡¯ll be on it?¡±


    ¡°Can all the contestants see it?¡± John asked, perking up slightly.


    ¡°Assuming they¡¯re in a sleeping spot when it airs, then yes.¡±


    ¡°I guess I kinda have to watch it then don¡¯t I?¡± He replied, raising his head from the bar and motioning for Buck to pass him a drink, which he did, ¡°I don¡¯t want to get behind the competition.¡±


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t have said it better myself,¡± Buck agreed, stifling a yawn.


    They sat around for a few minutes whilst John nursed a straight whisky and Truffle talked to Buck, who seemed to be desperately resisting the urge to fall asleep. Then the menu screen above the bar burst into light, forming a very wide TV.


    ¡°Welcome to the first Battle Royale Earth recap episode, I¡¯m so excited to be here!¡± The praying mantis in the brown suit said.


    I had seen him before on the opening day address, though only for a moment before the screen went blank. He sat in a newsroom with the Earth spinning peacefully in the background. Next to him was the same green orc that had accompanied him before.


    ¡°Show good,¡± the orc said, flashing its tusks, ¡°very violent, very entertaining. Grend like.¡±


    ¡°Frank like too,¡± the Mantis said with a practiced smile.


    Frank, John thought, squeezing his glass as he saw the charred body of the man who had once helped him fix his car. His chest burned and he downed the whisky, causing his throat to burn as well.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got a lot to get through tonight folks and not a lot of time. This first segment is available for the contestants to watch as well, then we¡¯ll move on to interviews and a more in depth look at the game as a whole and who to watch this season. So, without further ado, let¡¯s get on with the show!¡±


    A live studio audience cheered as the screen changed to videos of events that had happened in the last few days. It flicked through a series of pod landings, bewildered humans exiting in their body suits, many of whom were killed almost immediately by various beasts in a myriad of locations. A small group of unarmed contestants were set upon by the pack of knife wielding koalas, they died screaming. Another group, who were in a snowy setting, were brutally beaten to death by a sasquatch which picked one of them up by the legs and used his body to beat the others into a bloody pulp.


    There were a few shots of solo players too. A small woman stepped on a landmine in an area covered in mud, barbed wire, and trenches. It reminded John of a first world war scene as she exploded into tiny chunks of bloodied flesh. Then there was a young, jittery man who was tied to a spit by a group of hyena andromorphs who laughed wildly as they slowly cooked him over an open fire. The poor guy cried and yelled, but the sadistic gnolls only cackled more feverishly.


    Next the screen flicked to a group of children who seemed to have landed in a jungle. None of them could have been older than twelve and they were brandishing wooden spears and wearing mud on their faces like war paint.


    I guess Golding was right, John lamented as he forced himself to take in the events unfolding on the screen.


    The children surrounded a young couple who looked rightfully terrified as they tried to back away with raised palms. Then the feral children proceeded to attack them with the spears, poking holes in their bodies like they were pi?atas except in lieu of candy and confetti bursting out, there was just blood¡­ lots of blood.


    There was another flicker and the screen focused on an armoured man riding a werewolf and wielding a polearm. He was surrounded by zombies and he twirled his weapon expertly, decapitating and dismembering the oncoming horde. In the background there was a huge castle with massive bats flying overhead.


    ¡°How did he tame a werewolf?¡± John asked, exasperatedly.


    ¡°It¡¯s probably a card,¡± Buck replied, ¡°but he definitely seems ahead of the curve. Looks like he already has two of them.¡±


    The screen flickered again to the scene where John shot the Whowie and turned his guns on the audience. It wasn¡¯t very flattering and the short clip made no attempt to show the audience that the alien audience were fake holograms and not real viewers. It was almost as if the show was trying to portray him as an unhinged barbarian. John wondered if that was the same for all of the contestants that had been showed. Every clip lacked context, but he doubted the viewers cared.


    ¡°I look like the Guns Akimbo meme of Daniel Radcliffe,¡± he moaned and took a large gulp of his second whisky.


    ¡°I think you looked fierce boss,¡± Truffle piped up before they returned their attention to the screen.


    An elderly woman in a wheelchair was up next. Her chair was rocket propelled and it had dual gatling guns attached. She cackled wildly as she mowed down an entire army of goblins by herself.


    The IV drip attacked to her chair was filled with a bright blue liquid that sparkled in the sun and her pupils were dilated. She seemed to be having the time of her life as she performed doughnuts over the corpses of the slain monsters.


    She definitely has more than one card, John thought, squeezing his glass absently. Are we falling behind?


    Afterwards another few clips showed some more normal-looking people desperately trying to survive against the odds, then the screen flickered once more to show someone that both John and Truffle recognised.


    Joanna walked out of a building as it burst into flames. She looked like an action movie hero as the fire licked the sky and screams could be heard in the background. The clip was shown in slow motion. Those sick fucks. She smiled devilishly and placed a card into her chest, revealing a little more of her breasts to the camera than most women would probably want to show.


    ¡°Looks like I was right,¡± John mumbled over the rim of his glass.


    So, she did kill those people to steal a card.


    ¡°Is she playing up for the camera?¡± Truffle asked, ¡°it looks like she¡¯s playing up for the camera. Why else would she lick her lips seductively and show off her boobies like that?¡±


    ¡°So it¡¯s starting already,¡± Buck sighed and the other two looked towards him with raised brows. ¡°This always happens sooner or later in the first round, usually it¡¯s later. Eventually contestants start to figure out that being entertaining is the easiest way to survive the longest. More viewers equal better sponsors come round two. So, inevitably, they start actively trying to outdo each other with crazy, or in her case monstrous, stunts to entertain the viewers. If the showrunners have let you watch that clip, it means they want people to realise that cards can be stolen from other contestants. It¡¯s subtle, but the smartest of you should be able to work it out from that clip.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got to say, she¡¯s a natural, committing arson and playing up to the camera as she left. If she¡¯s not on your team you¡¯re gonna have your work cut out for you.¡±


    ¡°I guess it makes sense,¡± John said quietly, ¡°though there¡¯s one thing I don¡¯t understand. We were in that building after it was burnt out and it looked similar to this place. If it was a sleeping spot, then how did she even enter it whilst someone else was inside? I thought you said we all get one dinosaur guide.¡±


    ¡°I said you get one guy, I said nothing about dinosaurs,¡± Buck replied poignantly. ¡°What I did say, was that we get linked together once you complete a task for us. In your case it was the gauntlet. It¡¯s just a guess, but I would say the people who were in there first hadn¡¯t completed a task yet. So that woman probably walked in on them sleeping and killed them. For all we know, that could have been the task she was giving. Each of us guides have different instructions at the start of the game. Not all tasks require us to drug you and drop you into a gauntlet.¡±


    John narrowed his eyes at Buck who jerked backwards slightly. The whole gauntlet ordeal was still a bit of a sore subject. Either way, Buck¡¯s hypothesis added yet another knot to John¡¯s already overflowing mind. If the dinosaur was right, then the guides were just as dangerous as everything else in this game.

 Chapter 17 – She’s A Wildcard

    ¡°So you¡¯re saying I¡¯m stuck with you now?¡± Joanna asked as she nursed a gin and tonic at Watering Hole¡¯s bar. She¡¯d walked into an unassuming caf¨¦ in the middle of the city and found herself inside the familiar drinking establishment. She¡¯d assumed it was gone, considering she¡¯d burned it down.


    ¡°That¡¯s correct miss, yes,¡± the fancy dinosaur with the English accent confirmed. His eyes twinkled as he gazed at his new partner with tamed lust.


    ¡°Ok, but I burnt this place to the ground, how is it up and running again?¡±


    ¡°The producers have their ways,¡± he replied in his silky smooth, baritone voice, ¡°it¡¯s quite a simple matter really to anchor a personal portal to a new pocket dimension. They keep backups for this exact scenario. You¡¯re not the first contestant to burn down a bar Miss Joanna. Now that you¡¯ve completed the task I gave you, we¡¯re linked you and I. And so is this place.¡±


    She looked hard at the dinosaur bartender. His visage was still offsetting to her. A triceratops¡¯ head on the body of human man, wearing a suit and fedora to match. It was weird. How could dinosaurs be aliens? Did this mean that Earth was originally inhabited by another sentient species, or was it just a coincidence?


    As these thoughts swirled through Joanna¡¯s head, he moved gracefully about the bar polishing a glass delicately before replacing it on a shelf behind the bar and topping off her drink. He really was quite the attentive bar tender. If this wasn¡¯t the apocalypse she¡¯d have given him a generous tip.


    ¡°So, if no one else can enter this place then how did I get in the first time?¡± Joanna eventually asked, settling on an appropriate question running her fingers playfully over the rim of her glass. ¡°I distinctly remember a family was sleeping in here. The stench of their deaths still clings to my top. Why weren¡¯t you their manager?¡±


    She raised an eyebrow and looked up to see the dinosaur¡¯s expression ¨C not that prehistoric reptilian creatures had overly recognisable facial movements.


    ¡°They didn¡¯t complete my task. Besides, I¡¯d much rather be your manager.¡± He licked his lips with a quick flick of his tongue and the edges of his scaley mouth turned upwards slightly, ¡°sadly, my previous clients were terribly dull. You, however, well¡­ I think our partnership could really be something.¡±


    ***


    ¡°Are you sure about this? It seems awfully dangerous when we¡¯re so close.¡±


    Barnabus scowled at the communicator, trying hard to keep the ire out of his voice.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure,¡± he said quietly. ¡°I know she¡¯s a wildcard but that¡¯s exactly what we need. We¡¯ve been bound by this blasted contract for too far long. This is our season; I can feel it.¡±


    ¡°I know, I know,¡± the voice replied, quivering slightly, ¡°I feel the same way, you know I do. My contestant is pretty promising as well, you¡¯re not the only one taking risks to keep them alive. I¡¯m just not sure it¡¯s wise to tempt fate like this when we¡¯re so close. Minor infringements are one thing, but what you¡¯re talking about could get both our heads put on the chopping block. Shouldn¡¯t we be playing it safe? We¡¯re in the end game now, it¡¯s not the time for gambling.¡±


    Barnabus wiped his forehead with his cleaning rag, displacing his fedora slightly. His face contorted in a moment of rage and frustration but he was old enough to know how to keep his emotions in check, and he did.


    ¡°Trust me,¡± he replied in a measured tone. ¡°This is the right move, Joanna is exquisite. With the money we¡¯ll earn off her we¡¯ll be free by the end of the season, mark my words. Besides, as you just said, your contestant is no slouch either. If everything goes to plan we¡¯ll make enough to buy out our contracts and book safe passage to the home world.¡±


    There was silence on the line and Barnabus wiped his forehead once again. He hated how sweaty his face got when he was excited.


    ¡°Fine,¡± the voice said and the line crackled as it disconnected.


    Placing the communicator down quietly, Barnabus leaned on the counter with both hands and sighed. His shoulders shook as he suppressed a delighted laugh.


    This would be his season, he could feel it.


    With the help of the girl, he¡¯d finally be free.


    ***


    6 days remaining.


    The next day John awoke feeling more refreshed than he had in years. Usually he woke up feeling groggy regardless of how much he¡¯d slept. He had never been much of a morning person.


    However, for the first time in years he felt wide awake and ready to tackle the day¡¯s challenges. Though, if the last few days were anything to go by he was certain that feeling wouldn¡¯t last for long.


    Waking his snoring companion from his slumber, he and Truffle entered the diner¡¯s main room and he placed the pig on a bar stool.


    Something smelled delightful, a smoky scent mixed with the unmistakable aroma of freshly cooked bacon. John wondered if that choice of meal was a little insensitive to his companion, but Truffle didn¡¯t say anything. So, when Buck slid him a plate across the silky countertop surface, he dug in.


    ¡°What are your plans for today?¡± The dinosaur asked casually as he poured him a glass of fresh orange juice and tossed Truffle a raw joint of mystery meat. ¡°You¡¯ve got time until the next round, but you still need to complete your deck.¡±


    ¡°I already have a line on two cards,¡± John said slyly through a grim smile, ¡°but I¡¯d like to collect one more before I pursue it. Any suggestions?¡±


    He wanted desperately to track down the blonde arsonist now that he knew he could steal her cards. He¡¯d be doing the world, or what was left of it, a favour by killing her¡­ That was probably what Chairman Tanlan had meant when he¡¯d said that killing other contestants was advised. He had to be referring to this ability to take their cards.


    John wondered if they had to be dead for that to work. He could stick his hand into his own solar plexus, though he didn¡¯t dare remove his own card. An overwhelmingly foreboding feeling had rushed through him when he¡¯d touched it. It stood to reason that he¡¯d be able to yank someone else¡¯s card from them whilst they were still alive, though perhaps that feeling was a death warning. He wouldn¡¯t know unless he tried. It would be an easy way to kill someone if that was the case, and a bit of cheat.


    ¡°Oh, how mysterious,¡± Buck replied dryly after a moment, ¡°you know, now that I¡¯m your guy, you can tell me your plans if you want to. It¡¯s not like I can pass it on to other contestants since you two are the only ones I¡¯ll get to see this season.¡±The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°Don¡¯t take it personally,¡± Truffle said with a mouth full, ¡°he¡¯s always been like this. He used to complain endlessly about me to the mistress, but he always comes around eventually.¡±


    John shook his head, trying to ignore his companion as he continued eating his fill. He had 100 shiny new shards to spend and his jeans and shirt were dirty, ragged and disgusting.


    However, he¡¯d decided it was best to save as much as possible. He wanted a failsafe just in case his plans didn¡¯t work out. Saving up for a kiosk card wasn¡¯t going to be easy.


    Even as he reaffirmed his commitment to financial sensibility, the glow of the kiosk called to him and he had to look away before he gave into temptation.


    ¡°Well, I guess I can wait,¡± Buck said, refilling John¡¯s glass, ¡°just promise me you¡¯ll let me in on this new plan of yours before you put it into action. I can be quite helpful you know; I¡¯ve been around.¡±


    ¡°No,¡± John said sternly between bites.


    ¡°You¡¯re insufferable, you know that?¡± Buck yelled, ¡°here I am trying my best to help you stay alive and all I get is a single syllable response? I swear it¡¯s like talking to a brick wall. You humans have no idea how to articulate a socially engaging conversation.¡±


    Since when did he get so chummy? John thought, but he didn¡¯t dignify the dinosaur with an answer. He had no interest in being friends with a slimeball who had already betrayed his trust once. Especially after his earlier revelation about the potentially nefarious intentions of other game guides. There was no doubt in John¡¯s mind that Joanna¡¯s guide had helped to orchestrate her arson murder. Though he had no idea why.


    ¡°Tell me more about healing,¡± John said abruptly.


    ¡°I already did.¡±


    ¡°No, you told me there are three ways to heal: cards, beds, and traditional medicine. Last night though, you said that we could regenerate more rapidly than normal humans. I want to know how that works, what will heal, how tough are we. Tell me everything.¡±


    Buck sighed, but John was sure he saw a faint smile on his green lips. ¡°Alright, I can¡¯t deny that you¡¯re starting to ask the right kinds of questions. So, as part of the game¡¯s design you can regenerate much faster than a normal person, even without using the beds. Broken bones, stab wounds and other relatively superficial injuries will heal pretty fast. However, you can¡¯t grow back limbs, and regeneration won¡¯t start if the foreign object which caused the wound is still inside you. So if you get stabbed, you need to remove the knife before it will begin to heal.


    ¡°You¡¯re also much hardier than your frail human bodies usually would be. The council doesn¡¯t want any boring deaths, they¡¯re a money sink and this show is expensive to run. They need to ensure they¡¯ll recoup their investment and the best way to do that is to maximise the entertainment value for the viewers, which means keeping boring deaths to a minimum. Think of it like a health bar in a video game, only you can¡¯t see it.¡±


    ¡°Alright, what about organs? If I do get stabbed and remove the knife but it¡¯s pierced say¡­ a kidney. Will that kill me?¡±


    ¡°Probably not, most internal injuries will heal if they don¡¯t kill you outright. Of course, you¡¯ll become significantly more robust as you level up, but I¡¯ll explain that another time. You can¡¯t do it in this round anyway.¡±


    John nodded and downed the rest of his juice. Buck was a font of information, but it seemed he¡¯d have to ask the right questions to get a decent answer out of him. That was going to be a royal pain in the butt.


    Glancing at the countdown on his interface, he became acutely aware that time was running short, he needed to get his hands on a new card today. That would leave him time to track down Joanna and complete his set. With only six days remaining, he wanted to get a move on. He couldn¡¯t risk leaving it to chance and sitting around talking shop with the dinosaur, while useful, wasn¡¯t as productive as actively searching for cards.


    ¡°I want to get a new card today,¡± John said suddenly, sitting up and pushing his empty plate across the counter. ¡°Tell me how.¡±


    The dinosaur eyed John with curiosity and the faint flicker of a smile ¨C or perhaps a grimace ¨C appeared on his scaley face for a moment. He sighed, rubbing his temple with his clawed fingers and then, throwing his drying rag over one shoulder, he answered.


    ¡°Perky today aren¡¯t you? I do know of something, the most surefire way I can think of, but I wouldn¡¯t advise it. You¡¯ll probably die.¡±


    Truffle¡¯s ears twitched as he and John both looked expectantly at Buck, willing him to continue.


    ¡°There¡¯s a tournament happening in a few hours at the big stadium in town, the prize is a card,¡± he relented, his eyes narrowing, ¡°but I really don¡¯t think you should go. It¡¯s not really meant for contestants and those who do enter usually die in the first round.¡±


    ¡°Sounds perfect,¡± John said, half standing.


    ¡°Wait!¡± The dinosaur interrupted, ¡°it¡¯s really dangerous and I don¡¯t think you stand a chance of winning. I shouldn¡¯t have even mentioned it.¡± He thumped himself in the forehead with his palm, ¡°it¡¯s not meant for contestants, not really.¡±


    ¡°But we can enter it?¡± John asked, but it was rhetorical, his mind was already made up. ¡°Thanks for the vote of confidence, but if there¡¯s one thing I¡¯m good at its backing myself.¡±


    ¡°Will you just slow down and listen to me!¡± He said, raising his voice in anger for the first time since they¡¯d met. ¡°It¡¯s not meant for contestants; you have to win to get a card. It¡¯s way harder than just looking for more boss monsters.¡±


    John stopped and sat back down, looking up expectantly at his guide, the smile hadn¡¯t faded from his lips.


    ¡°This tournament, its PvP matches and there will be some contestants, I¡¯ve no doubt, but most of the competitors are execs. They have protections in place.¡±


    ¡°Execs?¡± John replied, furrowing his brow, ¡°but I thought this battle royale was a human only deal?¡±


    ¡°And pigs, don¡¯t forget about the pigs,¡± Truffle said quickly.


    ¡°And pigs,¡± John added.


    ¡°It is,¡± Buck answered with another sigh, ¡°only contestants can win the game, but they¡¯re not the only ones in the game. Every season execs pay an extortionate amount of money to create an avatar that¡¯s added into the show. Think of it like an VRMMORPG, they can feel things and do things and let their desires and debaucherous nature run wild, all without the consequences. If their avatar dies then it¡¯s nothing to them, they wake up in their pods and go back to running their companies and attending board meetings. So, in the PvP it¡¯s no big deal if they die, but if you die it¡¯s permanent. What did you think I meant when I said it¡¯s not really for contestants?¡±


    ¡°Big monsters?¡± Truffle said flippantly.


    ¡°And let me guess,¡± John replied dryly, ¡°these execs have cheat codes and special powers so I have no chance of beating them.¡±


    ¡°Actually no, the playing field is pretty levelled, at least in the first round of Battle Royal. They get more OP as the game progresses and you get more powerful.¡± Buck said, running his rag through his clawed fingers nervously, ¡°that¡¯s why they¡¯re having this tournament now, it¡¯s a chance for the execs to win cards before they have to pay even more money to get some in the later rounds. But they have to give you a fighting chance, it¡¯s too early on to nerf you. Though it might feel like they¡¯re trying to.¡±


    ¡°Then why don¡¯t you think I have a chance? I already have a card and combat experience.¡±


    ¡°Not as much as you think you have, some of these guys have been playing for a long time. They know the rules, understand how the showrunners work, and they have game character reflexes as part of their avatar purchase. You¡¯re good John Doe, but you¡¯re just a normal human. These guys are using avatars. Not to mention that they have connections. It¡¯s likely that some of these guys will enter the tournament with their colleagues and depending on how it¡¯s run this season, they might be able to gang up on you.¡±


    Feeling a heat rising in the back of his neck and spreading across his cheeks, John reached behind the bar and grabbed the bottle of whisky he¡¯d started on the previous night. Tipping it back and gasping as the smoky liquid burned his throat, he realised it was scotch, and a good one at that. He¡¯d been too distracted by fatigue and the recap show to truly appreciate it the night before.


    ¡°I need a new card,¡± he eventually said in a low voice, ¡°this entire game has been a risk, but if I¡¯m not willing to fight then I may as well have died with my wif-¡±


    He caught himself and glance across at Truffle who seemed oblivious.


    That was a close call, he thought before continuing. ¡°If I don¡¯t take risks I¡¯ll have no chance of winning, and like you said, these guys aren¡¯t OP, they¡¯re just experienced alien gamers. I can work with that.¡±


    ¡°I still don¡¯t think-¡±


    ¡°Is there anything else you can tell me?¡± John interrupted, holding up his hand to silence Buck.


    ¡°Not really, I don¡¯t know much about it. None of my previous contestants have been stupid enough to enter. I¡¯ve watched it before and the rules and terrains change every time. Like I said, the main thing to watch out for is colleagues working together. Oh, and remember that the avatars aren¡¯t real. Their owners can¡¯t die so they can take risks that you can¡¯t.¡± His voice shook slightly and his eyes washed over John with ire and frustration. There was something he wasn¡¯t saying. Something he couldn¡¯t say. ¡°Also¡­ in previous seasons the avatars have always taken on the shape of the host species. Since it¡¯s only been a few days you might be able to use that against them, most aliens aren¡¯t bipedal.¡±


    ¡°Can they feel pain?¡±


    Buck glanced furtively at the ceiling, then nodded very slightly, his eyes glancing around cautiously.


    ¡°Thanks Buck,¡± John said with an evil grin as he reached across the counter and patted the scaley half triceratops, half man on the shoulder. ¡°We¡¯d best be off; I¡¯ve got some rich kids to kill.¡±

 Chapter 18 – Conglomerate Calamity

    A few hours later John and Truffle arrived at the stadium after taking care of a few pesky koalas that had jumped out at them on the way.


    Standing on a bridge with glowing red and blue suspension wires which dipped and swirled like a roller coaster track, they took in the magnificent sight.


    The stadium was gargantuan, dwarfing the bridge they stood on and surrounded by untouched, well-maintained patches of grass and spotless, stained flooring.


    Looking completely out of place in a post-apocalyptic word, it was a glowing beacon of modern engineering and John thought it must have stood as a monument to the country¡¯s passion for sport in the old world.


    Artistic tiling covered the outer walls with strips of wood and light fixtures creating a measured appearance. Staring at the stadium, it would be easy to forget that they were trapped in the apocalypse, with one small exception that is: the sign.


    Most of the lights were out and flickering. Where once it read Optus Stadium, all that remained were the letters P US I.


    ¡°Boss,¡± Truffle asked innocently as they crossed the bridge, ¡°why does it say pusi in big letters?¡±


    ¡°If I had to guess,¡± he replied, resisting the urge to smirk, ¡°it¡¯s either the alien¡¯s idea of a joke, or a challenge to anyone who doesn¡¯t want to enter.¡±


    ¡°Well that¡¯s good then,¡± Truffle said cheerfully, ¡°no one can call you a pussy today, an idiot maybe, a suicidal maniac at a push, but definitely not a pussy.¡±


    ¡°Thanks for the support buddy,¡± John said dryly with a shake of the head.


    ¡°Any time boss,¡± he replied happily.


    Once they got closer to the stadium John could see the entrance. A huge arrow had been placed on the floor, pointing towards it. Crudely drawn though it was, the chalk was fresh it couldn¡¯t have been there more than a few hours.


    It¡¯s too quiet, he thought. Surely a tournament would elicit some kind of noise. Yet all he could hear was the gurgling river behind him.


    He felt the pit of his stomach begin a slow churn as they stepped up to the gate: a revolving mesh of horizontal metal bars, not an easy exit in the event of an emergency.


    John was certain that the aliens had changed things about Perth, he¡¯d barely seen any houses and there was no way that there weren¡¯t any before the gates arrived. It would make sense, considering that he was also certain they¡¯d somehow shrunk the entire country. This, however, cinched it for him.


    Without emergency exits, the stadium had numerous health code and fire safety violations. This place had been modified to keep people in, the Hotel California of sporting entertainment buildings.


    With a gulp and a steeled expression, he pushed through the revolving metal gate, reconfirming his commitment to survival at any cost. He needed more cards and he needed them fast. That was all there was to it. His wife¡¯s dying words rang out in his head.


    You have to live John. You can beat this. You can survive!


    ¡°Welcome,¡± an AI sounding voice piped up as they entered the stadium¡¯s covered halls. ¡°Would you like to sign up for the tournament?¡±


    ¡°Alexa, play Charlotte¡¯s Web,¡± Truffle said loudly.


    ¡°That¡¯s not an Alexa buddy,¡± John said, a smile tugging at his lips, ¡°and when did you watch Charlotte¡¯s Web?¡±


    ¡°Mistress let me watch all kinds of movies, and the discovery channel, and Kerrang,¡± he replied as if it was normal for a dainty pig to listen to rock music. ¡°Alexa play let the bodies hit the floor.¡±


    ¡°I am sorry,¡± the AI hologram replied, ¡°I do not know this command, would you like to sign up for the tournament?¡±


    The hologram was a blue, flickering woman wearing a body suit. She was doe eyed with long hair and voluptuous lips.


    ¡°Yes,¡± John said confidently as he approached the AI.


    ¡°Voice recognition accepted, thank you for your participation. The preliminary round will start,¡± the AI changed suddenly from a peaceful blue to a foreboding scarlet, noises like a nineties dial up rang out and her face contorted into a vicious smile, ¡°IMMEDIATELY.¡±


    ¡°Oh no,¡± John said, the knots in his stomach beginning to cramp up.


    A glowing purple light shone all around him and a feeling of weightlessness overcame him as the hallway disappeared.


    ***


    In the blink of an eye John was standing in the middle of a glass bottom stadium in space.


    Stars and the unmistakable visage of Earth rotated beneath his feet. Glowing boxes lit up the arena, set out sporadically around the pitch and each containing a contestant.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    None looked as surprised as he was, in fact they all seemed perfectly calm. They were probably the execs; they¡¯d have known exactly what was happening. Was he the only real human in the competition?


    A large crowd surrounded them, the cheering was deafening. Fireballs shot up in sequenced patterns around the outskirts of the playing field and John felt queasy.


    Welcome to the preliminary rounds of this season¡¯s opening tournament: Conglomerate Calamity! The familiar and annoying voice of the jovial announcer rang out all around the stadium as it also reverberated in John¡¯s head.


    He tried to move but his body seemed to be in some kind of stasis, then the announcer¡¯s voice stopped and the world became quiet, the cheers of the crowd being replaced by silence.


    New Quest:


    Conglomerate Calamity


    Objective:


    Win or place in the tournament 0/1


    Survive 0/1


    Reward:


    Bronze ¨C x100 shards


    Silver ¨C x250 shards


    Gold ¨C x500 shards and x1 card


    Bonus reward for surviving the tournament to be decided at a later time


    Time unfroze after John read through the quest, it was a little more complex than those he¡¯d previously completed having multiple reward tiers and a reward just for surviving.


    Does that mean I can survive even if I don¡¯t win? He wondered for a moment before the overwhelming noise of the crowd and the booming announcer continued.


    Today, folks, our competitors will fight for a chance to win a shiny new card. Who knows what kind of weird and wonderful power waits inside. But before we get to that, a word from our sponsor.


    Before John¡¯s eyes, and taking up most of the playing field, was a giant hologram of a billboard-style sign which read: Isobel¡¯s Indentures. An advert rang out across the stadium in a female voice that was a facsimile of that stereotypical infomercial voice over he¡¯d heard plenty of times before on TV. thankfully it was entirely extrinsic. He didn¡¯t like the idea of adverts streaming directly into his mind, though it surprised him that the system didn¡¯t just do it anyway.


    ¡°Are you crippled with debt and tired of owing money to the big businesses in the sky? So was I, that¡¯s why I created Isobel¡¯s Indentures. With Isobel¡¯s Indentures you can sell yourself into slavery to get rid of those pesky debt collectors and restart your life as a free lifeform. So why wait? Call Isobel¡¯s Indentures today and take back control of your life.¡±


    What. The. Fuck. John thought, his face drooping as he looked at the hologram in disbelief.


    Alrighty folks, are you ready for the preliminary rounds of Conglomerate Calamity?


    A resounding cheer rang out from all around the stadium¡¯s stands and John¡¯s disbelief faded as he readied himself for the start of the match.


    This first round is a simple free for all. All competitors will be on the field for this and it won¡¯t stop until only eight remain. In true free for all spirit, there are no rules! Competitors can kill, maim and violate corpses to their heart¡¯s content, though no style points will be awarded in this tournament, the season has only just begun, after all. Watch your backs out there, and¡­ say it with me now, CULL THE MASSES!


    The audience joined in with their weird catch phrase and suddenly John regained the ability to move his limbs. Without delay he drew his revolvers and fired a bullet into the closest avatar.


    The man was built like Arnie and wore combat trousers, military boots and nothing but a bandolier over his torso. He was bald, but it was his eyes that gave him away.


    His iris was like a nebula, the pupil a silver sun. No human had eyes like that, it was a dead giveaway.


    John¡¯s bullet impacted the avatar¡¯s temple and his lit, stubby cigar exited his mouth as his eyes opened wide with surprise.


    The round exited the other side of his head bringing not brain matter and gore with it, but instead a thick black substance that reeked of petroleum.


    Do these avatars run on gas? John wondered as the leak pooled around the muscular man¡¯s feet, an oil spill similar to that caused by a broken car.


    WHOOSH.


    John threw himself to the floor as the lifeless avatar landed on top of him, trapping him beneath it. A huge fireball whizzed past the area where his head had been just moments ago and he looked up to see it crash into an invisible barrier which separated the contestants from the crowd.


    The barrier wobbled, spilling outwards from the epicentre like a vast, open lake in the midst of a summer rainstorm. The flames dissipated and John craned his neck to look for the source.


    Standing at the opposite side of the field was a beautiful blonde woman with fire on her fingertips and a cheeky smile, waving her fingers at him playfully before blowing him a kiss.


    ¡°Joanna,¡± he hissed under his breath.


    Seeing her gave him a newfound strength, induced by violent rage, as he pushed against the floor with all of his strength, dislodging the avatar he had killed.


    Skill Unlocked:


    Potent Rage


    Pushing the notification to the side, he resummoned his guns and raised both of them in her direction. He fired off shot after shot, hitting a few of the other competitors in the process, not that any of the avatars noticed as they were all in the middle of their own battles.


    Giggling, blasts, screams and yelling emanated across the field as avatars battled to the death gleefully. However, the tournament was anything but gleeful for John.


    He had just been given a golden opportunity to complete all the necessary requirements to progress to the next round of Battle Royale Earth in one fell swoop.


    Joanna dashed around the far side of the field flinging fireballs into the fray as the avatars enjoyed themselves.


    A woman screamed as her polyester pantsuit caught fire and her body melted into to a steel frame resembling a human skeleton, and a pool of oil which promptly caught fire. The fact that the execs could feel all of the pain without actually dying wasn¡¯t lost on John. You¡¯d have to be a straight up masochist to voluntarily take part.


    Or a genocidal scumbag.


    Groups of fighting avatars dived out of the way as she launched fireballs at John and missed spectacularly.


    ¡°When the hell did she get that power!¡± He yelled in frustration as he ran Matrix style to the side, firing his dual wield pistols furiously.


    He remembered her other power; it was a minor levitation skill. How was it fair that she¡¯d also managed to get her hands on fireball. Everyone knew that was the most OP area of attack power you could get. He¡¯d played DnD on active duty, fireball was unquestionably, the shit.


    ¡°Will you two pack it in!¡± An old, bearded avatar yelled, ¡°your flirting is getting in the way of our fights!¡±


    Ignoring his cries, the two continued to flit around the outskirts of the stadium, using their long-range skills to bombard each other.


    ¡°That¡¯s it!¡± The man shouted, ¡°everyone stop fighting, we¡¯ve got some annoying little ants to squash.¡±


    The field went suddenly quiet as the avatars all turned to watch the oblivious John and Joanna as they fired at each other. She was laughing joyfully, whilst on his face was pure, cold concentration.


    ¡°What?¡± Joanna said, realising the fighting had stopped, ¡°isn¡¯t this what we¡¯re supposed to do?¡±

 Chapter 19 – Martian Arts

    At the old man¡¯s order, Gabrielle ceased fighting the green skinned avatar in front of her and turned her


    attention towards the blonde bimbo with the fire powers.


    She had entered the tournament with her father, the most powerful man in the lower middle management of the Jellyfish Collective. It was strange thinking and speaking in the Earthen languages, but she was thankful her avatar could understand this primitive form of speech as her species had mastered thought communication eons ago. They didn¡¯t even have mouths anymore.


    Though it was a little frustrating, and insulting, that their language¡¯s closest translation for her species was Jellyfish.


    The blonde woman stopped suddenly and said in a mock tone of surprise ¡°what? Isn¡¯t this what we¡¯re supposed to do?¡±


    Her arrogance served only to stoke the flames of Gabrielle¡¯s annoyance and, taking a firm hold of her oversized mallet with both hands, she turned to the woman, a steely look in her avatar¡¯s eyes, a nebula rotating in its iris.


    ¡°You are courting death!¡± She yelled, ¡°cease this nonsense human, your kind are merely fodder in these games. You cannot hope to compete against your betters.¡±


    The blonde woman turned towards her and for a moment her eyes flashed and a sadistic smile grew on her lips. It sent shivers down Gabrielle¡¯s spine; she didn¡¯t even realise avatars could mimic that feeling. The show runners had really outdone themselves this year, the fear almost felt real.


    ¡°Come and get me then, bitch,¡± the blonde woman said, extending a single tentacle and wiggling it slowly.


    Though Gabrielle didn¡¯t understand why humans had such small tentacles attached to their hands which were attached to a thicker, ridged tentacle, she did understand the meaning behind the wiggling and charged forwards gallantly.


    CRACK.


    A loud noise rang out across the stadium and then there was darkness.


    ***


    What do you mean I¡¯m dead! Gabrielle thought projected, unclipping the conscious transference device on her company¡¯s space shit.


    My sincerest apologies honoured Gabrielle, but it appears that an Earthen contestant by the name of John Doe shot you in the back of the head.


    Gabrielle did not scream, for her species had no mouth, but her annoyance was projected so fiercely form her mind that the entire colony immediately knew her frustrations.


    If she could have screamed though, if she was back in her avatar, she would have tipped her head towards the heavens and proclaimed: ¡°curse you John Doe!¡±


    She missed her avatar already.


    ***


    John fired his revolver at Joanna again, she had stopped moving and he wasn¡¯t going to miss another opportunity to kill her. A female avatar ran towards her at the same time, holding a huge mallet, and John¡¯s bullet struck her instead.


    ¡°Of all the things,¡± he muttered to himself, luck just wasn¡¯t with him this day. He¡¯d killed more avatars by accident in the past couple of minutes than he¡¯d ever killed competitors in a video game death match.


    I guess Call Of Duty really is unrealistic, collateral damage is genuinely hard to avoid. I guess I owe Obama an apology too. I wonder if he¡¯s in this game, or if anyone famous is for that matter. He thought as he continued to run around the outskirts of the playing field.


    ¡°Cease this folly at once!¡± The old man avatar cried out, an angry vein popping on his forehead. ¡°It seems that an entire army of military grade avatars cannot pin down two simple humans. What a disgrace you all are to your families, your species and above all, the corporations you represent.¡±This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Immediately the avatars stopped moving in earnest. Most of them had ceased their fighting on his first order, but now none of them moved a muscle. The arena went still as the old man spoke, even the audience had quietened to hear his words.


    John wondered if he was a big shot in the world of alien capitalism, and he began to feel a little silly as the only noise remaining in the arena was the sound of his boots slapping against the clear bottom of the stadium as he continued to run.


    ¡°Male human,¡± the old man began but was promptly cut off by the jovial announcer who rushed to correct him.


    Ahem, it seems that Manager Ka Ren of the Jellyfish Collective is calling out the contestant known as John Doe.


    The old man nodded to the sky, showing his thanks for the assist, and continued.


    ¡°John Doe, I challenge you to single combat. Do you-¡±


    ¡°Ok,¡± John shouted across the arena, slowing to a jog and turning to face Manager Ka Ren, he wondered if that was his real name or a gamertag.


    Stepping arrogantly towards the old man, he kept both pistols drawn as the avatars surrounded him in a ring of bodies. It looked like they were about to partake in a dance off.


    Joanna was thrust through the ring by the other avatars, stumbling, she landed on her knees close by. John chose to ignore her, he wanted to shoot her in the head whilst she was on the floor but in a game that valued showmanship, that would probably be a death sentence. He didn¡¯t need to resort to cheating to end her life. Her death was inevitable now that she was trapped in this tournament with him.


    ¡°How brave you are Mr Doe, to accept my request so promptly and without thought.¡± Ka Ren said, opening his arms widely and ripping off his shirt revealing finely sculpted abs and a chest Superman would be proud to call his own. ¡°However, I must warn you that I have studied this planets Martian arts and have had this avatar built especially for the purpose of maximising my Martian abilities.


    ¡°I have watched the great masters of your Earthen fighting techniques and learned from them. Masters such as Bruce Lee, Jack E Chan, Hong Kong Phooey and David Lee Roth. I¡¯m afraid that you simply do not stand a chance of besting me in the single combat which I have challenged you to.¡±


    Raising his leg, he began showing off some kind of karate move. He flipped over in the air, then jumped once more performing the splits in mid-aid before landing in a half squat with his fists by his waist, arms bent in a centred position.


    He thrust out one of his hands in a single, mind-blowing palm heel strike which split the very air in front of him, tousling John¡¯s hair from almost twenty feet away.


    Behind John a few other avatars lost their balance and the air pulse that had shot from the Ka Ren¡¯s palm pulsed against the barrier, causing the audience to gasp collectively as its shimmering surface cascaded outwards from the area of impact in perfectly spaced ripples.


    Bending his finger slowly in the come-hither sign, he said: ¡°have at you, John Doe.¡±


    With an unimpressed gaze followed by an eye roll, John raised his revolver and shot the man through the head. His body went floppy, hitting the floor with an unceremonious thud as the entire arena was silent.


    A slight flicker of a smile twitched on John¡¯s lips as he raised his pistol to his mouth and blew away the steam emanating from its barrel. Cordite filled his nostrils, but it was worth it to see the petrified looks on the other avatar¡¯s faces.


    ¡°It¡¯s martial arts by the way,¡± he said, gazing up at the stands and readying himself for what would surely happen next.


    Gasps flowed from all around him like a verbal Mexican wave. The avatars encircling John seemed unsure whether to press in further and go for the kill or back down and surrender.


    No one had expected such an easy defeat, that was for sure. Ignoring them all, John turned to Joanna and raised his weapons once more.


    ¡°Let¡¯s settle this once and for all,¡± he said, staring down the iron sights at his target.


    ¡°It¡¯s been forever since a man looked at me like that,¡± she replied, curling her lip at one side, ¡°you¡¯re making me blush.¡±


    ¡°Ha!¡±


    The single, forceful laugh rang out across the quiet battleground and they both turned towards it, John keeping his revolvers trained on Joanna the whole time.


    Staggering to his feet was Ka Ren, he reached to his forehead and produced a flattened bullet, placing it between his thumb and forefinger and inspecting it carefully.


    ¡°Well met Mr Doe, that was quite the surprise,¡± he said, flames lighting up the nebula in his eyes. ¡°Did you really think such a small article would end me? I am a Martian artist in this body, I have used Qi to strengthen my skin. I could challenge the very heavens above if I did not already own them.¡±


    ¡°Who the hell are you?¡± John asked incredulously.


    ¡°Who am I? Why, my name is known across the system. I am Ka Ren, the most revered and respected lower middle manager in the Jellyfish Collective, nay, the galaxy.¡±


    ¡°Lower middle management,¡± John repeated, raising a single eyebrow.


    ¡°Indeed, I worked tirelessly for two hundred years, the amount of unpaid overtime I have completed is legendary. I missed my own daughter¡¯s birth all for the sake of my career and if I had to, I¡¯d do it all again to reach this prestigious position and sign my name in the annals of history.¡±


    ¡°Alright we get it grandpa,¡± Joanna said, standing up and moving next to John, ¡°if corporate capitalism had a dick you¡¯d be first in line to suck it. Are we going to fight now or what?¡±


    ¡°We?¡± John said, furrowing his brow and turning to her.


    ¡°We.¡± She nodded firmly, ¡°we¡¯ll continue our little spat later. ¡°First, let¡¯s take down these space invaders. We¡¯ll make them regret fucking with the human race.¡±


    ¡°I will gladly take you both on,¡± Ka Ren proclaimed, pounding his fists against his chest like a gorilla. ¡°¡¯Tis mere child¡¯s play.¡±


    John was about to protest but before he had the chance Ka Ren pushed off from the ground and flew towards them like a fleshy rocket.


    I guess we¡¯re doing this then, John thought as he dived out of the way.

 Chapter 20 - Kesh

    The wind passed John¡¯s face so closely that the wobble in his cheeks meant a millimetre¡¯s difference in his positioning would have been the difference between life and death.


    That was close!


    Ka Ren¡¯s fist gave him a closer shave than a barbershop ever could have and the cracking sound of the old man breaking the sound barrier so close to his ear might well have caused him permanent hearing damage.


    Yet, despite all of that, he was alive. His heart thundered; a chaotic drumbeat keeping tempo with a speed-metal band.


    His dodge was successful and he would live to fire another bullet, at least for the time being.


    Hitting the ground with an unceremonious and painful thump, he rolled into a crouching position and fired off a round from one of his revolvers.


    Ka Ren batted it away like his was swatting a fly, his old, wrinkled face was tighter than it had likely been in years as a wide grin split it from ear to ear. He was enjoying this spectacle, though of course, it was much less dangerous for him than it was for John.


    Fighting in an avatar¡¯s body held no real-life danger whatsoever, pride would be the only casualty for this lower middle manager.


    The stakes were significantly higher for John and they both knew it.


    Without wasting time, John began squeezing the triggers of his pistols in quick succession. Ka Ren¡¯s skull might have been hard enough to stop his bullets but that didn¡¯t mean that he had no weak points at all, and John had just the skill to help him find them.


    The avatar¡¯s abs were spectacular, but surely they couldn¡¯t reflect a bullet. That would defy science¡­ right? Thinking on his feet, or rather his knees, John knew he needed to focus on one or more of his new skills. It was the one advantage he seemed to have over other people. Buck had told him that skills did not exist in this game and were a relic of a previous season.


    Surely they would be the key to his continued survival, at least until he could get more cards and up his game the proper way. Regardless of the reason why he had them when no one else seemed to, the fact that he had them meant he¡¯d be a fool not to rely on them.


    Glaring at Ka Ren as he laughed and batted away bullets with hands that moved faster than the eye could keep up with, John hoped for his locate weakness skill to kick in.


    However, the problem with loosely defined skills that shouldn¡¯t really exist was that accessing them could be difficult. He wasn¡¯t even truly sure if they were active or passive. Were they always there or did he need to manually activate them?


    WHOOSH.


    Before he had a chance to try and find out fire sprayed across the battlefield like a water hose¡¯s pressurised stream. Avatars screamed as the smell of burning skin and motor oil filled John¡¯s nostrils.


    The intense heat felt slick on his skin as his sweat sizzled. He continued firing. Ka Ren¡¯s smile turned to a grimace as he turned from John and dashed towards Joanna.


    ***


    ¡°Burn baby burn!¡± Joanna sang as she used her new card to spray flaming death across the arena.


    She couldn¡¯t believe her luck when she¡¯d realised how well her powers synchronised. The card she¡¯d stolen from that man in the bar only gave her the ability to create fire, it didn¡¯t allow her to control it.


    However, that wasn¡¯t a problem when she had a card that allowed her to levitate things. Her telekinesis card worked perfectly in tandem with the flames allowing her to create a flame with one card and move it around with the other.


    It had taken a bit of getting used to, but she was quite happy with her newest idea of using her hand like a flamethrower.


    With one hand out in front of her and the other behind her head, she danced the sprinkler dance and shot deadly flames from the tips of her fingers. It was delightful.


    Her telekinesis card came with drawbacks though, she couldn¡¯t lift things that were too heavy and the more something weighed the longer the cooldown would be.


    Luckily for her, fire was weightless.


    The screams were like music to her ears as she danced amidst the chaos, who knew that avatars could feel pain. It seemed like a bit of a design flaw to Joanna but knowing that she was inflicting even the slightest amount of pain on the invaders was a sweet victory in and of itself. One that aligned perfectly with her goals.


    I will burn these fuckers to the ground. Burn it all down.


    The smell of burning flesh and motor oil was tantalising to her delicate nose, she could almost taste the ash and despair on her tongue.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°How dare you! Coward!¡±


    Turning just in time to dodge, she saw Ka Ren speeding towards her in flashes that on any other day would have made her question her sobriety.


    A fierce wind whipped around her like a tornado and her flames went out, it blew her body into the barrier behind her and she felt the air leave her lungs as strong hands gripped her throat.


    ¡°This was supposed to be a two on one duel! What nerve you have, to involve the others in our affairs.¡± Ka Ren snarled, spittle flying from his mouth. His breath smelled like a gas station pump and the nebula in his eyes was rotating fast enough to make her dizzy.


    ¡°You lost the right to a fair fight when you invaded our planet and killed my family,¡± she croaked out venomously. There was barely enough room in her crushed windpipe to breathe, let alone scream, but she was furious.


    His grip loosened slightly but the vein on his forehead was as pronounced and angry as before and his teeth were clenched.


    ¡°You should be grateful,¡± he pronounced incredulously, ¡°to be chosen as the host species for Battle Royale is an honour, it is tradition. Your species is being allowed to ascend into the system. This is the ultimate recognition of your accomplishments.¡±


    ¡°Tell that to my husband, to my mother, my father¡­ tell that to my son,¡± her voice quivered with rage and despair as she clawed at his vice-like grip viciously.


    He did not let go.


    ¡°Sacrifices must be made in the pursuit of greatness.¡±


    ¡°Then make one,¡± she spat, removing her hands from his and pressing her thumbs into his eyes.


    Fire streamed from the tips of her thumbs, blasting through his skull and coming out of his mouth and ears, scorching.


    Motor oil leaked out as he screamed in a feral, bestial way. It gushed onto her face and neck, catching fire immediately but Joanna did not scream and she did not stop.


    Pressing her thumbs further in, she continued to fire as much flame as she could through her thumbs and the palms of her hands. When she was done, Ka Ren would be nothing but a pile of goop on the ground.


    It didn¡¯t even matter that this body was only an avatar. At least it was something. This torture couldn¡¯t even compare to the pain that she had felt every day since this game had begun. Death was too good for these assholes. She was glad that they used avatars. It would mean that she could inflict excruciating pain on them over and over again. If they dared to come back, she¡¯d kick them to the curb. Break their minds. Ruin their lives. Just like they¡¯d ruined hers.


    His grip loosened, but she didn¡¯t even notice as she screamed and cried tears of vengeance into the flames.


    ***


    As Ka Ren sped away from him John sighed, picking himself up off the floor and going to work.


    He knew that there was no way he would be able to beat that brute with ease, but there were only eight places in the next round and the avatar¡¯s numbers had been cut dramatically by Joanna¡¯s indiscriminate flamethrower attack.


    Now was the time to play it smart.


    If John could whittle down the remaining numbers whilst they were distracted then this round would end before Ka Ren could kill him. If he was lucky, maybe the lower middle manager would be paired up with Joanna in the next round and she could take him out. Her fire seemed to be more effective against him, and her skin couldn¡¯t stop John¡¯s bullets. It would be the ideal outcome for him.


    Raising his revolvers he went to work. Meticulously, and with a laser focus, he began taking shots at the dozen or so remaining avatars. They were all too distracted to notice him and he doubted any of them had bulletproof foreheads like his previous foe.


    At least he hoped they didn¡¯t.


    Some of the avatars looked more human than others, most wore those same bodysuits but there were a few dressed differently. John wondered if they were pay to play upgrades. On the other side of the arena he saw a scarred avatar. It looked furious as it watched Joanna, yet it stood completely still.


    How stupid did these guys have to be to stand still despite all that was happening?


    Oh well, easy picking for me.


    ***


    Truffle sat on the edge of his seat in the private box that had been provided for him. The battle was intense and he prayed for his boss¡¯ safe return.


    Watching from the best seat in the house didn¡¯t leave much to be desired. He had all the food he could eat, cooked ¨C or uncooked ¨C to his specifications. He had drinks, a private TV which showed the most interesting parts of the fight close up, and a huge balcony with an unimpeded view of the chaos below.


    He also had Kesh; the friendly orc who had given him access to such a wonderful seat with perfect hospitality.


    Kesh was the ambassador for a company that was also called O.R.C. They were trash collectors, or so she said. Supposedly there wasn¡¯t much room for recycling in the galactic rat race and so O.R.C was hired by almost every major player in the system to dispose of their waste off planet so that their home worlds didn¡¯t turn into landfills.


    That was about the limit of Truffle¡¯s knowledge on Kesh or the subject of waste management. Usually he would have been very keen to talk to his new friend about it, but he was a little preoccupied with the fight going on below.


    The Boss had somehow managed to narrowly avoid getting killed by a man who looked like Master Roshi on steroids and he was now walking calmly around the arena shooting avatars in the head as they stood still and let him.


    Truffle had heard the old man say it was to be a two on one fight, but he didn¡¯t expect the avatars to sit around casually whilst they got burned to ash and summarily executed by a man in soiled jeans and a duster.


    ¡°Why aren¡¯t they fighting back?¡± He asked, though he was glad that they weren¡¯t. He didn¡¯t care about the competition but he wouldn¡¯t allow Boss to be hurt.


    ¡°Respect, little one,¡± Kesh said. ¡°Execs obey management. Even when means death.¡±


    Kesh really had a way with words.


    Orcs didn¡¯t seem to speak in full sentences, it was as if saying a single word more than was absolutely necessary was a foreign concept. Whilst they lacked a flare for the dramatic, like Truffle had, it was refreshing to speak to someone so completely honest.


    Especially when it put Truffle¡¯s mind at ease. He was worried that the avatars were going to gang up on Boss, but that seemed unlikely now.


    Fears abated, he turned towards the screen and saw Joanna being choked to death by the Master Roshi rip off. Her face was turning purple as she spoke to him. Both of them seemed livid. He spoke of honour and she spoke of dead family members.


    Truffle would have felt bad for her if she hadn¡¯t recently burned a family of three alive in a bar. It was a little hypocritical in his opinion.


    Then there was fire, lots of fire, and screaming.


    ¡°She is true warrior,¡± Kesh said, admiration leaking into her voice, ¡°scarring own face to kill foe, true strength. A warrior¡¯s scars make them beautiful.¡±


    As poetic as the sentiment was, Truffle disagreed. Nothing could make a woman like her beautiful. Burning children alive saw to that¡­ also Boss didn¡¯t like her, so neither did Truffle.

 Chapter 21 - O.R.C

    John stopped firing.


    Despite the ease with which he had taken down most of the remaining avatars, even he couldn¡¯t help but turn towards the radiant flames bursting out of every orifice of Ka Ren.


    I guess he wasn¡¯t immune to flames after all, he thought, jaw slightly ajar as he watched the avatar melt into a puddle of burning oil, gooey flesh and fake bones.


    Joanna looked almost as bad. Half of her face had melted off; blood was running down her chin which was now more skeletal than beautiful. Her teeth were covered with flecks of ash and John could only see them so well because the skin around the left side of her mouth had completely melted away.


    Her eye socket was disintegrating and he was surprised that the eyeball didn¡¯t fall out and bounce around somewhere near her neckline like a bungee. It was a horrifying sight.


    Yet, as the blood dripped down her chest and Ka Ren¡¯s remains pooled at her feet. She stood tall, a steely look in her eyes. Glancing over at John, she mustered the strength to give a little wave before collapsing to the ground.


    This was his moment.


    It wasn¡¯t glorious, nor was it a battle worthy of a painting, but it was smart. There were two cards sitting right there for the taking in the decrepit body of a monster in human skin. There would be no need for him to feel bad about it, it was logical.


    Then why does it feel wrong, he wondered as he took a jarring step in her direction.


    Holy moley folks, the jovial announcer said in his usual whimsy, talk about fireworks. I haven¡¯t seen mutually assured destruction like this since the Arachnidite cold war. Well, now that the most senior manager on the field is out of the competition I guess the rest of the avatars can quit playing statue and get revenge on the sneaky cowboy assassin over there. What, you didn¡¯t think we all saw you taking advantage of the state of play to shoot up the place John Doe? I mean, no judgement here, but you had to know that there would be a reckoning didn¡¯t you?


    As if his words had woken them from a slumber. With the exception of the scarred one who began a slow walk towards Joanna, the remaining avatars encircling John turned towards him with angry glints in their eyes.


    So much for my plan, he thought, raising his pistols and preparing for yet another slaughter.


    ***


    As it turned out, John only needed to kill three more avatars before the game was over. Joanna¡¯s fire had killed most of the original contestants and John had been no slouch when it came to exploiting the remaining avatar¡¯s loyalty to their fanatical corporate system after that.


    As the latest round left the chamber, creating a hole in his attacker¡¯s gullet, he found himself trapped in a beam of purple light which surrounded his entire body as if he was encased in a tube.


    Frozen still, his weapons were forcefully returned to his card. From what he could tell, the rest of the survivors were also captured by the light, including Joanna who looked more like a corpse than a person. The scarred avatar had also survived, his furious and scary gaze never left Joanna.


    He must have really liked that Ka Ren guy.


    Congratulations! You eight will advance to the quarter finals. Of the many players in this arena, only you survived. That¡¯s a victory unto itself. Well done contestants, well done executives, see you in the next round.


    As soon as his congratulatory speech ended, John¡¯s vision went blank and his stomach began to churn violently as it felt like he was standing in the hold of a ship during a storm.


    Eerie silence surrounded him and all he could hear was the beating of his own heart and the blood rushing in his ears as he was transported. The sensation lasted barely a few seconds before he found himself dumped on the floor of a posh-looking bar.


    ¡°Boss!¡± Truffle¡¯s familiar voice rang out, and before John¡¯s vision could make sense of his surroundings, he felt the little pig nuzzling into his chest.


    Wrapping his arms around him, he pulled him closer, careful not hug him too tight ¨C he was still a teacup pig after all.


    ¡°Where am I?¡± John asked dazedly.


    ¡°You¡¯re in my VIP box, I¡¯ve been watching the battle from up here with Kesh.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a Kesh?¡± John replied, his mind still racing, ¡°it sounds like something I smoked in college.¡±Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°I, Kesh,¡± an unfamiliar, rumbling voice said, ¡°well met, John Doe.¡±


    Opening his eyes with a start, John stared up at a humanoid pig person holding out a three fingered hand to shake.


    It reminded him of the weird news anchor from the recap video the previous night with green skin, tusks and a face that seemed too large to reasonably stay upright on its neck. An orc, it had to be.


    Wearily, he took the pig¡¯s hand¡­ trotter? And it pulled him to his feet as if he weighed no more than a feather.


    At least this one isn¡¯t wearing makeup, he thought as he tried to take in the weirdness of the creature standing before him.


    ¡°Kesh is an orc,¡± Truffle explained, ¡°and she works for a company called O.R.C and she¡¯s been keeping me company and feeding me whilst I watched your match Boss, I¡¯m glad you won. That Master Roshi guy was a little bitch in the end, did you hear his screams? He started off so promisingly too.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± John replied and then, turning to Kesh, ¡°your company is called orc?¡±


    ¡°Orcish Refuge Company,¡± she answered, puffing out her chest proudly, ¡°we galaxy¡¯s premier waste disposal professionals.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re trash collectors¡­ in space?¡± He said dumbfounded.


    ¡°Do not mock O.R.C.¡± She replied firmly but without aggression, ¡°O.R.C keeps galaxy clean, big money in waste management. Developed civilisations create more waste than planet can handle, O.R.C solve this problem.¡±


    ¡°I guess that makes sense,¡± John said slowly with a shrug, ¡°no one wants their planet turning into a landfill, and I guess it sounds recession proof at least.¡±


    ¡°Exactly!¡± Kesh agreed with a vigorous nod and a wide smile which looked terrifying, all tusks and sharp teeth inside a mouth big enough to swallow John whole.


    ¡°But I think the more pertinent question,¡± he continued cautiously, ¡°is what does your company want with Truffle and me?¡±


    ¡°Not you, just little one,¡± Kesh corrected, ¡°O.R.C look after own, orclet trapped in game, causes problem for us. Can¡¯t extract him, best can do is help within restraints of system rules.¡±


    ¡°You mean Tanlan won¡¯t let you take him?¡± John replied, gently caressing Truffle¡¯s head as he nuzzled further into his chest, ¡°that¡¯s probably because he¡¯s from this planet and he¡¯s not an orclet.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right Kesh,¡± Truffle added proudly, ¡°I¡¯m a pig!¡±


    ¡°No, you are orc. Planet of birth is of no consequence. Orc are orc.¡± Kesh sighed and scratched at her ear before continuing. ¡°Pig is name Earth people give to prehistoric orc, not yet evolved on this planet. Until now. Our kind are spread across galaxy. Those who develop big brain are orc. You talk, you smart, you are orc.¡±


    ¡°So this is a semantics issue?¡± John asked, still unsure of what exactly Kesh was getting at.


    ¡°No, orc is orc.¡±


    ¡°Maybe we should continue this later, I¡¯m exhausted and I have a fight to prepare for. Do you have any food fit for human consumption?¡±


    ***


    Joanna awoke on a metal slab sometime later. The room she found herself in was dark and cold. She sighed, trying to comprehend the mess she¡¯d just made.


    She didn¡¯t regret killing Ka Ren, though perhaps if she was less enraged at the time she would have realised that sacrificing her face to kill an avatar was a bit of an unfair trade.


    If it had been the real Ka Ren, then she wouldn¡¯t have regretted anything. But she had really liked her face. It was her best defence. Men liked her face; they¡¯d probably let their guards down even in a death game.


    ¡°You¡¯re awake?¡± The familiar voice of her manager called out across the dark expanse.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she replied, her throat didn¡¯t feel sore anymore, at least that was a positive.


    ¡°Good, you put on quite the show down there. Not the kind of publicity I was expecting you to gain, but publicity all the same. Your views have skyrocketed. It seems I made the right choice in choosing you.¡±


    Looking around the dark room, Joanna tried to place where Barnabus¡¯ voice was coming from, but she couldn¡¯t. It seemed to come from everywhere, was he throwing his voice? Talking to her through intercom? And if so, why?


    She wondered why it was so dark, Barnabus was a gentleman, perhaps he¡¯d dimmed the lights to spare her the pain of seeing her burned off face?


    ¡°Keep betting on me and together we¡¯ll ruin them,¡± she replied, a slight husk leaking into her usually feminine voice, ¡°I¡¯ll do whatever it takes to get my revenge. If you didn¡¯t believe that before then I¡¯m sure you do now, just look at me.¡±


    ¡°You look lovely to me Miss Joanna, perhaps you should take a look in a mirror.¡±


    ¡°How, it¡¯s pitch dark in here.¡±


    She heard a click and suddenly the room was filled with dim, yellow light. It burned her eyes and she blinked a few times before she got used to the sudden change.


    Her bed really was a metal slab, she was right. There were no covers or pillows, just hard, cold metal. Her body was laid on a slight imprint within the metal and there were machines surrounding her.


    The room itself was a small box, all metal, clinical and freezing. Barnabus definitely wasn¡¯t in the room, but that wasn¡¯t the most important thing on Joanna¡¯s mind.


    To the left was a small, circular mirror on a moveable arm. She pulled it towards herself, grimaced and prepared for the worst.


    Yet before her eyes sat the visage of a young woman, unscarred, blonde, just as she had been before the flames had melted her skin.


    She winced at the memory, the pain, the burning, the rage, it all came flooding back in segments like a photo album, each picture conjuring the memories of the excruciating feelings she had experienced, but numbed and distant.


    ¡°The healing beds at the bar can only do so much, same as your contestant regeneration. You wouldn¡¯t have died from that injury, but scars like that don¡¯t heal on their own even in a game like this,¡± Barnabus crooned. ¡°Fortunately, here at the arena we have access to state-of-the-art medical technology. Naturally I had them dull the memories of the ordeal. It must have been terribly painful and I can¡¯t have the memories of that pain affecting your judgement in battle. I hope you understand.¡±


    Joanna didn¡¯t reply, she was fascinated by her reflection. If they could heal this then anything short of death was something she could come back from, surely.


    ¡°When¡¯s the next round?¡± She asked, still infatuated with her own face, it looked identical to the one she had before and as she prodded it she wondered if it was the one she had before, or a reconstruction. Her regeneration would have fixed her, as Barnabus said, but if the scars should have been permanent then had she undergone reconstructive surgery?


    ¡°I had them delay it; your recovery took some time. The previous round was yesterday morning, it¡¯s now close to dawn of the next day. You have a few hours yet until the fighting begins.¡±

 Chapter 22 – One Hundred Ways To Die

    5 days remaining


    John awoke in the middle of the night. After eating his fill he¡¯d passed out on the large sofa that sat in front of the viewing window looking out over the stadium.


    He didn¡¯t remember falling asleep, he¡¯d only been awake for half the day. Days of non-stop battle had taken their toll it seemed; he was only human after all and once the adrenaline had worn off he¡¯d succumbed.


    Knowing that there was only five days left to get all his cards and find the next tori gate was concerning enough to give him heart palpitations, but a part of him was at least glad that sleep still existed.


    Logically, it would have been useful to transcend the need for sleep entirely, a feat which he was certain the aliens could enact, but he liked sleeping too much to want to go without it.


    The past few days had inflicted horrors on his eyes that he¡¯d never expected to see and sleep was the only non-permanent escape from them. He deserved his rest. It was the only time he felt at peace. Even with his emotion altering skills, he still needed to reset. He wanted to.


    Thinking on that as he rolled onto his back and stretched laboriously across the luxury, cushioned fabrics of the sofa, he wondered if he¡¯d have been able to take so much of this world in his stride if it wasn¡¯t for the psychological skills that had been inflicted on him at the beginning of the game.


    Perhaps if Joanna had been gifted Trauma Response and Greif Counselling like he had she wouldn¡¯t have turned out to be so psychotic. He wondered how Truffle coped so well.


    ¡°Good rest?¡± Kesh¡¯s harsh, deep squeal rang out through the dark in what he had to assume was an orcish attempt at a whisper.


    John startled, his heart pounded momentarily before settling back down and he stared into the darkness above his sofa and answered. He didn¡¯t know where Kesh was, and though he was weary of her, she didn¡¯t seem to have any immediate ill intent.


    ¡°Yeah, thanks for letting me crash here,¡± he replied, his voice croaky and dry.


    ¡°You have bedroom next door, do humans not like beds?¡±


    ¡°I love a good bed, but I was exhausted and sometimes a good sofa is just as rewarding.¡±


    He heard a soft grunt that almost sounded like a chuckle. John had expected to go straight into the next round, so he was pleasantly surprised when Kesh had told him that he had the night off. He was also frustrated; time was of the essence.


    Ah duality, the folly of man¡­ or so I¡¯ve heard, he thought with a contented sigh.


    ¡°Kesh, can I ask you something?¡±


    She grunted in affirmation.


    ¡°Can you really protect Truffle from this game?¡±


    ¡°No, O.R.C can help within confines of game rules. No protect¡­ sorry.¡±


    Her last word came as more of a whimper. John wasn¡¯t sure exactly what O.R.C¡¯s game was, but something about this orc seemed oddly genuine to him. Though it could have been an act, she appeared to genuinely care about Truffle. In a way, it irritated him. Where was that compassion for all the people the IPSC had needlessly slaughtered at the start of this game?


    ¡°What kind of help can you give him?¡± John asked quietly.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter, you find out soon enough human. For now, focus on winning battle. Get cards, find gate. All that matters.¡±


    ¡°My wife said something similar to me once,¡± he replied, his voice barely whisper, ¡°before she died.¡±


    The room went silent again for a moment, the only sounds were quiet breathing and the hum of the appliances shelved behind the bar.


    ¡°Sorry, system generation always hit hard. Future humans have good lives, current humans¡­ not so much. Way it was for all system races.¡±


    Future humans? Only one of us can survive this damned game. We¡¯re not plants, there needs to be at least two of us, John thought, but he didn¡¯t voice it. What was the point?


    ¡°Was it bad for your people?¡± He asked.


    ¡°System happened many generations ago, Kesh not there. Orc warriors, battle in our blood. Heard game bad, glad wasn¡¯t there. Glad wasn¡¯t conscripted in Arachnidite wars either.¡±


    ¡°Arachnidite wars? What¡¯s that?¡± John said, feeling his skin quiver at the word. He¡¯d never liked spiders much.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°Tragedy,¡± Kesh replied, then John heard a soft padding followed by the soft hiss of a sliding door closing and he knew she was gone.


    ¡°Good talk,¡± he breathed out into the darkness, shaking his head slightly as he smiled softly at the ceiling.


    ***


    Welcome back to this season¡¯s first tournament, as we begin the quarter finals! The jovial announcer said, his voice ringing out across the stadium to the backdrop of screaming fans. We have some exciting matches lined up today, but first a word from one of our sponsors.


    ¡°This again?¡± John groaned as he stood petrified in his purple tube of light, looking out across the field of battle.


    Floating above the centre of the arena was a hologram of a monstrous creature with six hulking arms, stubby legs and a body the size of a rhino. It had a huge, bulbous head with frog-like eyes and a bowtie around its neck.


    When it opened its mouth to speak the inside seemed to go on forever and a thick, muscled tongue sat threateningly behind its oddly flat teeth.


    ¡°Do you tire of tipping the help for every little thing?¡± It said with a deep, yet pleasant voice that seemed much too sophisticated for a creature of its appearance. ¡°Eating a meal, tip, parking your space cruiser, tip, booking a night away at a lovely hotel in the Praxius Nebula, tip. Need I go on?¡±


    It opened its arms wide¡­ all six of them.


    ¡°With Grok¡¯s Gratuities, let tipping be a thing of the past. Sign up now and get free app installation that¡¯s compatible with all major devices. All you have to do is tap your device at the locations you would usually leave a tip at and let Grok take care of the rest. Grok¡¯s Gratuities, gratitude, without the attitude. Terms and conditions apply.¡±


    The hologram disappeared and the jovial announcer¡¯s voice took back over.


    Wow, I¡¯ll be downloading that app right away! Now, onto today¡¯s first event, the quarter finals. There have been a few rule changes due to recent events that we need to go over before we can get on with the show. Firstly, this season¡¯s contestants will not be authorised to yield. These matches will be fought to the death or until the time limit is reached, so no flaking out.


    Secondly, in light of the first rule change we have introduced a time limit. Each battle will only last for five Earth minutes, if a contender is left standing at this time then the winner will be decided by a panel of mystery judges from the top corporations attending this season of Battle Royale.


    Finally, we are introducing some spicy new twists to the battles this season, but I think it¡¯d be more fun to let you lovely people find out what they are first hand.


    The audience erupted into a cacophony of screams and cheers at that.


    They must really love violence, John thought, rolling his eyes as he waited in his tube.


    He spotted Joanna across the field. Surprised that she was still able to participate, he squinted his eyes to try and get a better look at her but all he could make out was the blurred outline of a woman with bright blonde hair.


    John was certain that it was her, though he couldn¡¯t see her well enough to gauge her injuries properly. The last time he¡¯d seen her, half her face had been burnt off.


    Serves you right.


    Alrighty then, onto our first battle, it¡¯s everyone¡¯s favourite cowboy: John Doe, vs Ton Thorn of the Zon Confederation!


    The tube of light holding him in place moved towards the centre of the arena as the other contestants vanished, likely back to their rest areas.


    Screaming bounced around the stadium from the blood thirsty crowd above and John steeled himself for his next fight, stretching his fingers in anticipation of the starting bell ringing out.


    A green tube of light carried his opponent towards him, an avatar no doubt, with brunet hair and purple jeans. Ton Thorn looked like an ordinary human, an everyman, with the exception of the nebula rings that replaced the irises of all the avatars.


    DING, DING, DING.


    The bell rang out across the arena and John immediately reached for his twin revolvers; he stopped however when he saw that Ton Thorn hadn¡¯t moved from his spot.


    His eyes followed John as he instinctively moved to the side following his release from the stasis light, but he seemed a little perplexed.


    Lifting his right hand slowly to his waist, he clicked his fingers and a large, yellow instrument appeared in his hand, it looked sharp at one end with an eraser on the other.


    ¡°There are one hundred ways I can kill you with this pencil,¡± Ton Thorn stated confidently, twirling the instrument lackadaisically as he took his first step forward. A sinister half grin appeared on his lips and he winked.


    A pencil? John thought, dumbfounded as he furrowed his brow at the odd man standing before him. For a moment he forgot that he was in the middle of a death battle.


    ¡°Why¡­¡± he began, ¡°why do you have a pencil?¡±


    ¡°I would have thought that a native to this planet would be better versed on Earthen proverbs than I, perhaps not though,¡± he announced patronisingly. ¡°When studying this land in the avatar creation hub I came across a wonderful saying that has given me the path to ultimate power, perhaps it has been lost to time in this modern era but I believe it will hand me victory.


    ¡°It is the ancient human proverb: the pencil is mightier than the sword. How odd that a writing instrument would be such a deadly weapon, even mightier than steel blades which were designed to cut down mortals.¡±


    ¡°I think you might have taken that proverb a little too literally¡­¡± John sighed, readying his own weapons: guns, real weapons, ones that could actually kill a man.


    ¡°We shall see.¡±


    Ton Thorn lifted his mighty pencil into the air and began drawing on the wind¡­ literally. As he drew a shimmering light stuck to the air around him, its black outline taking form as he scribbled with intense, anime-like speed.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re doing, but don¡¯t expect me to wait around,¡± John said, raising one of his revolvers and aiming for the man¡¯s centre mass.


    CRACK.


    He fired a shot at Ton Thorn. The avatar stopped drawing and with inhuman speeds he flipped the pencil around, catching the bullet with the eraser on the opposite side of the instrument.


    The bullet disappeared.


    ¡°With this mighty weapon I can erase your primitive projectiles form existence. Do not think you can survive this fight.¡±


    Well that was unexpected, John thought, but it can¡¯t be that easy to catch a flurry of bullets.


    However, before he had a chance to fire again, Ton Thorn had added the final line to his drawing and the air in front of him shuddered.


    Black lines faded, giving way to colour and life as a 3D shape took their place. With a devastating roar, a white tiger pounced out of the air landing a few feet away from John.


    More urgently, strapped to its back was a gunner¡¯s seat with a revving mini gun bolted into the beast. Ton Thorn jumped gracefully onto the back of his creation and John knew he was fucked.

 Chapter 23 – Environment Factor

    Thunder raged across the battlefield as a myriad of bullets chased John. The crashing, booming sound threatened to burst his ear drums as he dug deep and sprinted as fast as he could to the side.


    The glass flooring must have been made of some kind of alien material because the bullets didn¡¯t leave even a blemish on its sparkling, slippery surface.


    However, it did impede John¡¯s ability to sprint. It was surprisingly hard to find adequate leverage on such a smooth, perfect surface.


    ¡°Die, die, die, die!¡± Ton Thorn squealed in delight as he squeezed the trigger. His mini gun roaring fiercely as it thumped on the back of the tiger and sprayed death all around the arena.


    The tiger moved in place, turning as Ton Thorn manoeuvred his huge weapon, a well-trained beast with sharp teeth and fur like tire tracks in otherwise unblemished snow. It roared and the entire arena shook like it had been hit with an earthquake, nearly knocking John off balance.


    He wanted to shoot back, but he was so occupied with maintaining the correct number of bodily holes that he didn¡¯t have the chance to resummon his revolvers. He ran, pumping his arms and occasionally throwing them out to the side for balance. He was a t a serious disadvantage in this setting. There just wasn¡¯t any cover.


    Alrighty folks, the jovial announcer¡¯s voice rang across the stadium, though it was mostly drowned out by the horrendous sound coming from the mini gun. We¡¯ve hit the one-minute mark, so it¡¯s time to implement rule number three. This season we¡¯ve added in a little something the showrunners like to call: The Environmental Factor. Each round will have a unique environment change at the one-minute mark, some of which can be rather¡­ deadly.


    The audience¡¯s cheers were almost a match for the thunderous machine gun which continued to fire so fast that the sound more closely resembled a chainsaw than a gun, flashes of light poking out of the barrel furiously like a whack-a-mole on crack.


    John continued to sprint, his legs felt heavy and full, his breathing was laboured and his vision was starting to blur. He felt sick, unsure of how much longer he could keep this up. His skin was slick with sweat, his eyes stung as the salty pore-water dripped into his eyes.


    The stadium shuddered violently and he lost his footing, slipping on the glass surface he slid across the field of battle and time stopped again.


    Below, the glass flooring bubbled and began to form objects which grew from the ground. The stars and Earth beneath the glass were blurred and obscured as huge boulders and sharp stalagmites shot out of the ground.


    Within the space of a few seconds the entire topography had morphed into a rocky, dangerous landscape that more closely resembled a mountain side than a space arena and, as time resumed, John crashed into a large, hard pile of dirt and rock.


    His face throbbed, as did his legs as his chest heaved and he laid motionless on the ground. Despite the pain, he was relieved.


    Though he could hear the guns thundering from across the battlefield, he could no longer see Ton Thorn and his murder cat, which meant that they couldn¡¯t see him either.


    The Jovial Announcer may have added a dangerous element to the fight, but it had bought John a few precious seconds to catch his breath and, hopefully, turn this battle around.


    Pushing himself into the large rock he took a moment to catch his breath and resummon his revolvers. The weight felt good in his hands, the grips seemed to be perfectly carved especially for him and with them held firmly in his grasp, he was complete.


    Thunder boomed all around him as pieces of rock shattered and scattered across the arena, raining down tiny pieces of shrapnel.


    They don¡¯t know where I am, John thought, glancing around quickly and seeing nothing but a jagged rock, some of them as tall as buildings. It looks like the playing field has been evened, there¡¯s no way a tiger can navigate this terrain.


    Picking himself up with a struggle as his legs tried to buckle beneath him, he leaned against the rock for support and took a quick moment to stretch out his aching, blood-filled muscles. It wasn¡¯t perfect, but he¡¯d have to make it work.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Knowing that he needed to work out where Ton Thorn was firing from, he kept his head down and looked to the sky in the hopes of seeing the direction the flashes were coming from.


    Sadly, his opponent¡¯s mini gun wasn¡¯t loaded with tracer rounds and the enclosed arena made for difficult sonar detection as the eruption of sprayed rounds bounced around, a cacophony of death. The sound could have been coming from anywhere.


    Deciding that he needed to move before Ton Thorn shot his way through all of the rocks providing John cover, he dashed to the next closest rock and leaned around it.


    There was no sign of them, so he tried again, and again, and again, until he found himself on the outskirts of the playing field looking up at the barrier and the hundreds of thousands of screaming fans seated behind it.


    At least this let him know where he was. John skirted around the edge of the stadium slowly and methodically, ready to dive behind one of the bigger rocks at a moment¡¯s notice.


    Peaking behind an unblemished stalagmite, he finally spied his foe.


    Ton Thorn was leaning back as his tiger jerked with the motion of the firing mini gun. His grimace was telling as he blasted through one rock after the other.


    Obviously his plan was to destroy all the cover so he could find John and they could go back their game of can you run faster than a bullet?


    However, John wasn¡¯t sure that there was enough time left for that. Their match was only five minutes long. He was certain than Ton Thorn had the same thought as he stubbornly blasted away at the rock.


    John had a choice to make. Did he wait out the timer and ensure his survival at the cost of losing the match, or did he attempt to launch a potentially suicidal sneak attack and risk it all.


    He seriously considered letting this one go, but it wasn¡¯t in his nature to back down from a challenge. Besides, how would he ever be able to live down being bested by a man who brought a pencil to a gun fight? No, he couldn¡¯t bear the embarrassment that would surely bring and he desperately needed a second card. Without collecting all four he would die in a few days anyway.


    Cautiously he moved forward, bouncing from cover to cover until he got close enough to take his shot.


    Lining up a single revolver and using a rock to help brace and steady his arm, he saw Ton Thron¡¯s head down the barrel, through the iron sights. He didn¡¯t need his locate weakness skill to know where to aim, but he hoped that his marksmanship skill would help him to make the difficult shot.


    Steadying his breath and, keeping both eyes open, no surprises for me this time, he breathed in, then breathed halfway out and tried to listen for the moment between heartbeats.


    He¡¯d seen a movie where a sniper did that once and he desperately needed this to be a one shot kill. He¡¯d never been selected for sniper training himself back when he was on duty, but he¡¯d heard of the method. Or perhaps this was his marksmanship skill helping him out, at this point in the game it was hard to tell.


    Squeezing the trigger, he fired.


    ¡­


    ¡­


    He waited for the crack but it never came, drowned out by the sound of the mini gun. Ton Thorn jerked and fell from his tiger and the thundering sound finally stopped.


    ¡°Yes!¡± He shouted, pumping his fist in the air as he stepped out from behind his rock. His foe was dead and he had won, victory had never tasted so sweet.


    ROAR!


    The stadium shook violently and the tiger turned towards him, baring its teeth and snarling angrily. It took a tentative step forward, then another, then it leaped.


    ¡°Oh shit,¡± John summoned his second gun and raised both above him firing as quickly as he could. The tiger flew above him, blocking out all the light as it threatened to swallow him whole.


    He continued to fire, if his revolvers hadn¡¯t been magical they¡¯d have run out of ammo a long time ago. Blood oozed from the beast whose roar morphed into a whine which was just as deafening.


    John had badly injured it but then, instead of falling jaws first, it flopped downwards like a fat kid belly flopping into a swimming pool. John tried to dive out of the way but the beast was too big.


    The tiger landed and he was crushed against the ground, hard glass and rock pressed into his back whilst warm, soft fur smothered his front.


    Unable to breathe he began to panic. Pain shot through his body in a lightning arc. He felt his ribs crack as all the air was forced from his lungs. He had no chance of lifting the beast off his face so instead he simply continued firing his guns, hoping the pain would drive the beast away.


    It didn¡¯t.


    He fired and fired but the weight threatened to shatter his nose as well. His lungs were compressed, his chest crushed and every time he tried to gasp for air all he got was the feeling of fur in his mouth. A suffocating, fluffy horror.


    His mind felt hazy and it became harder and harder to pull the triggers. What was usually a simple action seemed to require all of his strength and concentration.


    Desperately he tried to find some leverage so he could drag himself from beneath the deadweight of the beast but he couldn¡¯t move his legs.


    I¡¯m going to die here, he thought, I should have just waited out the timer. Anne was right, I am too impulsive.


    He couldn¡¯t tell if he was passing out, dying or if the all-encompassing darkness caused by the tiger¡¯s body was to blame, but at some point the burning sensation in his chest went away and he felt¡­ peaceful.


    Serenity washed through him and a bright light shone directly into his eyes. No one was there to tell him not to go into it, he wanted to. Maybe his wife would be there. He¡¯d never been overly religious but wasn¡¯t this what people always talked about? The path to heaven.


    DING, DING, DING.


    We have a winner¡­


    Those were the last words he heard as he gazed at the light, willing himself to be drawn into its tender embrace.


    And then, nothing.

 Chapter 24 – Semi-Final

    ¡°Go Boss!¡± Truffle squealed from his private box.


    He watched as John lined up a sneaky shot from behind the huge murder cat and Ton Thorn fell. Then the tiger turned and leaped through the air.


    Truffle gasped as he watched his boss fire valiantly into the belly of the beast. Why wasn¡¯t the round over, he¡¯d already killed his opponent?


    Turning to the large screen next to him he saw a close up of the pencil man in the purple jeans, Boss¡¯ bullet hadn¡¯t killed him. It had hit him in the side of the neck, knocking Ton Thorn from the cat monster and onto the rocks.


    He laid there, convulsing in a pool of his own motor oil, but he wasn¡¯t dead.


    Turning back to the main arena he saw the tiger laying still on the ground, it seemed to be dead, but where was Boss?


    Panic stricken, he banged on the glass window hard with his front trotters, he needed to get down there, he had to find John.


    ¡°Damn you glass prison, let me out!¡± He squealed as he desperately looked around the arena for any sign of John, but there was none.


    The timer on the screen next to him counted down, there was only a few seconds left of the match. Boss couldn¡¯t be dead, the timer would have stopped if he was, right?


    ¡°Kesh, where¡¯s Boss?¡± He asked in a fast squeal that no human would have even recognised as words.


    ¡°Under beast,¡± she replied calmly as she watched from the sofa.


    ¡°He¡¯s under the cat!¡±


    DING, DING, DING.


    We have a winner! The jovial announcer called out and Truffle turned back to his view from the window to see a bright purple light emanating from below the tiger.


    Sadly no one died, however our judges have concluded that John Doe is the winner based on points. It was a close call but we don¡¯t do ties here and it has been determined that our human contestant would have suffocated approximately three seconds after Mr Thorn would have voided all of his oil reserves.


    What an upset, am I right folks? This sure was an exciting opener to what I¡¯m sure will be a harrying day of excitement. The next fight will start in fifteen minutes, so grabs some snacks and hurry on back!


    Amidst the voracious cheers from the crowd some booing could be heard, but the teacup pig didn¡¯t care. He was elated that John had not only won but was still alive.


    ¡°Go Boss!¡± Truffle squealed happily as the tiger dissipated and John was held in stasis inside the purple tube of light. His body had been crushed, he looked like a pancake and his face was a mess.


    A similar blue light held Ton Thorn in stasis as well and the two were transported off the field of battle.


    ¡°Do you think he¡¯s alright?¡±


    ¡°Light heals, human be fine,¡± Kesh replied and Truffle could have sworn he¡¯d seen a little flicker of a smile on her face.


    ¡°I can¡¯t wait for him to get back, we can watch the other matches together,¡± Truffle crooned, happily padding at the carpet in front of the window.


    Kesh winced and the teacup pig looked towards her with a questioning stare.


    ¡°Contestants no watch matches,¡± she said awkwardly, ¡°held in stasis until next fight.¡±


    ¡°So Boss can¡¯t come and see us until this is all over?¡± He said, looking down at the floor, ¡°I wanted to help him strategize. I don¡¯t like been away from him.¡±


    ¡°Sorry little one, not allowed.¡±


    Truffle didn¡¯t speak for a long moment as he closed his eyes and contemplated this. He felt bad being stuck up in the VIP box with Kesh, his place was at John¡¯s side.


    His boss had barely survived that last round and it was only the quarter finals. He needed his companion.


    With a resigned snort, Truffle raised his head and fixed Kesh with a steely gaze. ¡°I need to get stronger,¡± he said sternly, ¡°strong enough to help Boss.¡±


    ¡°No allowed in tournament-¡±


    ¡°I know that! But what about after the tournament, he¡¯ll need my help more than ever. Half the galaxy is watching this, when he wins he¡¯ll become a target¡­ He¡¯ll need me.¡±Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Kesh looked up with a sympathetic gaze alien to her species and sighed deeply, placing a three-pronged trotter over her eyes.


    ¡°O.R.C can help, but not until next round of Battle Royale. Can you keep alive till then?¡±


    ¡°Definitely¡­¡± Truffle replied confidently, ¡°or I¡¯ll die trying.¡±


    ¡°You have maximum cards, yes?¡±


    Truffle nodded; his card was something called a full stack card. It was a deck unto itself with the ability to allow him to keep three powers for a limited time, that he gained through consuming his enemies.


    ¡°Then you eligible for level up,¡± Kesh said, ¡°I help with that.¡±


    ***


    Blackness faded and John¡¯s eyelids burned under the florescent lighting which took its place. All he could see was glowing red on the backs of his lids, a familiar feeling, like closing your eyes whilst sunbathing.


    Breathing in a sharp inhale that flooded his lungs with a piercing cold he felt his heart beating hard against his chest.


    Heaven sure feels a lot like living, he thought as his mind slowly began to catch up with his surroundings.


    Opening his heavy eyes he saw purple, then stars, stands, the hazy outline of the forcefield and finally, a green blur dashed on the landscape before him.


    ¡­Though it looks more like I¡¯m in hell.


    He was back in the arena, he was alive.


    Alrighty folks, it¡¯s time for the second round of the semifinals, are you as excited as I am? The familiar voice of the Jovial Announcer rang out all around him and inside his head, John instinctively reached for his guns but nothing happened.


    His vision came into focus confirming what he already knew; that he was indeed back in the arena. He couldn¡¯t move his body and, less than a second after that realisation hit, he saw that he was in the purple tube of light once more.


    Did he say semifinals?


    His last victory was a close shave, but don¡¯t count him out just yet folks, this cowboy is more than just a not-so-pretty face. It¡¯s John Doe!


    The crowd screamed, though there was some booing amidst the cheers. John didn¡¯t care, his mind was too busy working overtime trying to piece together exactly what had happened.


    He was trapped under the tiger last he remembered, had he somehow gotten out and won? Surely he would have remembered that, and why was the semifinals starting straight after his quarter final match had ended? It didn¡¯t make any sense.


    Didn¡¯t he say this was the second semifinal match?


    Had he been trapped in the purple light this entire time? How long had it been, a day, an hour? He hated not knowing and his mind was racing trying to make sense of this situation. Then he remembered the interface he¡¯d bought, focusing on the symbols in the corner of his eyes he brought up the time remaining function.


    Countdown: 5 days remaining


    Huh, I guess it¡¯s still the same day then. At least that¡¯s something.


    His opponent is a man that needs no introduction after his last fight, an Earthling, a fighter, an audience delighter.


    Another Earthling?


    Was he about to fight Joanna? He squinted at the green light sitting on the opposite side of the arena but it was too far away for John to make out who was inside.


    If it was Joanna then he needed to be ready. He really wished he could move his hands so he could slap himself, that might just do the trick of focusing his mind.


    He could sort out what had happened later, if this was a battle against Joanna then he needed to be on the top of his game, mental fatigue and confusion be damned.


    It¡¯s BazzleDazzle69!


    The crowd roared a thundering assertion of delight, unblemished by even a single audible boo.


    WHAT?!


    As you all know folks, the winner of this match will go on to the finals, getting ever closer to the ultimate prize¡­ and the glory. Who will it be? It¡¯s a battle of Earthlings, but not like you¡¯ve seen before. I for one can¡¯t wait.


    John squinted harder but he still couldn¡¯t make out the figure in the green light. Could it really be Baz?


    He had only seen him two days ago and he was a wreck, an uncarded wreck blubbering into his brother¡¯s burnt corpse.


    Had he really managed to not only get a card, but enter the tournament and win a duel? Why hadn¡¯t John noticed him in the preliminary round? Was he there the whole time, John was rather busy fighting Joanna and then Ka Ren and then running around shooting the avatars who refused to dodge out of some kind of outdated honour code.


    How hadn¡¯t he noticed him?


    The beams of light began floating through the air like magnets attracted to each other and John squinted at the green tube the entire time.


    As it pulled closer he saw a man, his brunet hair had been scalped leaving only a thick strip on the top of his head and the scar on his neck had been joined by a nasty, new mark which covered his right eye, and from the looks of it, had lost him that eye. The other side of his face was scarred too.


    Realisation struck. John had seen this guy in the first round. He recognised the scarred face. It was the same guy who had been laser focused on Joanna the entire time. When all the other avatars came after John following the death of Ka Ren¡¯s avatar, this guy ran towards her. He hadn¡¯t recognised him; John had thought it was just another avatar. How could a person¡¯s physical appearance change so much in only two days?


    Baz¡¯ perpetual smirk which gave the impression that he was always amused by something had turned into a permanent grimace. The one remaining eye that he had looked hollow and dark, matching the bags under it, which suggested that he hadn¡¯t slept since they¡¯d met.


    He looked hardened, like a solider returning from war.


    Baz had also changed his clothes, in lieu of the starting jumpsuit that all contestants were given and that he had been wearing the last time, Baz had donned paramilitary attire.


    Camouflaged combat trousers tucked into black boots and finished off with a custom leather jacket brimming with knives, grenades and an assortment of other militaristic equipment.


    John knew that he must have acquired a card to have made it this far. Figuring out exactly what that card did and how to counter it was going to have to be his top priority, however, more than that he yearned to know what had happened to change a man so drastically in so little time.


    Watching his brother burn alive probably did it, he thought, though surely there was more to the tale. The man had been a blubbering wreck when they¡¯d left him to go fishing.


    Was watching a loved one die really enough to turn a nice, if a little na?ve, young man into¡­ this?


    DING, DING, DING.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a while John, where¡¯s your talking bacon snack?¡±

 Chapter 25 – Fighting Words

    5 days remaining


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    John summoned his twin revolvers wearily, but did not point them at Baz. The man, who now resembled a paramilitary anime character, stood before him making no attempt at hostilities.


    What¡¯s his game? John thought appraisingly as he watched for even the slightest movement.


    He could easily fire off a few shots and see what happened. In the worst-case scenario Baz would dodge or fight back, which was the entire point of this semifinal, but something in the recesses of his mind cautioned him against that.


    Deciding to respond to Baz¡¯s question instead of attacking, John spoke carefully. ¡°His name is Truffle and he didn¡¯t enter the tournament¡­ you look¡­ different.¡±


    ¡°What this?¡± Baz replied with an easy tone that didn¡¯t match the grimace etched onto his lips. He gestured to the jacket and combat pants he was wearing, ¡°I used to dress like this all the time before¡­ this, though these versions are alien made and they upgrade. It really is like playing a video game here, isn¡¯t it bro?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve certainly noticed the similarities yeah,¡± John replied calmly, keeping a close eye on his opponent. ¡°Though real people don¡¯t usually die, at least in the video games I¡¯ve played.¡±


    ¡°I heard the Russian¡¯s made a game once where the players died in real life if they died in the game, just like in that anime. High stakes, high reward, that kinda thing. It sounded pretty cool at the time¡­ anyway, before we start, I just want you to know that after I win this round I¡¯m going to kill the fuck out of that blonde bitch. I know you hate her too, so I just wanted to give you some reassurance.¡±


    Baz smiled awkwardly and scratched the back of his head; it was as if parts of his old personality were leaking though the new hardened persona he seemed to have taken on.


    ¡°After we left you, we saw some of her handywork,¡± John said. ¡°She killed a couple and their kid, burned them alive. I¡¯m going to kill her because she¡¯s a danger to everyone else. It¡¯s that simple.¡±


    And to get her cards, but I can¡¯t tell him that.


    ¡°How admirable,¡± Baz responded, his eyes flashing. Through gritted teeth, he continued, ¡°but I do hate her. She killed my brother and fucking laughed about it. Where I¡¯m from, you don¡¯t just let shit like that go. It¡¯s a blood feud now, and I have to be the one to carry it out.¡± His shoulder sagged, tears leaked from his good eye in thick droplets as he continued, voice shaking. ¡°Did you know we could have healed him? I met this dinosaur, said that my brother could have survived that if we¡¯d have just brought him inside and let him sleep.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± John replied, ¡°I realised a day later. We were told the same thing. He wouldn¡¯t have been the same though, the mental scars from that kind of pain would be enough to make anybody wish for death. You can¡¯t blame yourself for something we didn¡¯t have any way of knowing.¡±


    ¡°Blame myself?¡± Baz said, laughing slightly as tears continued to fall from his eye. ¡°Thanks for your concern, but I don¡¯t blame myself. This wasn¡¯t my fault. If anything, I¡¯m the least to blame. You shot that damned grenade and then that psycho bitch knifed him. Not me. I didn¡¯t do anything. I don¡¯t blame you though, not really. I¡¯m probably only alive because of you, I get that. Joanna on the other hand, I am going to kill her. It has to be me. Which means I need to win this fight. No matter the cost. For what it¡¯s worth though John, I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    John¡¯s hand tightened around the pistol grips, his body tensed and he felt his legs spasm as he prepared to jump out of the way in a pre-emptive dodge, and open fire. Out of the way of what, he didn¡¯t exactly know, but the tingling feeling on the back of his neck told him something very violent was about to happen.


    ¡°I get why you¡¯re upset,¡± he said keeping his eyes trained on Baz, ¡°but I have my own reasons for needing to win this fight, this whole tournament. I won¡¯t just roll over for you Baz, but I will kill her for you myself if I face her in the next round.¡±


    ¡°It has to be me. I need to kill her,¡± Baz shouted, taking a step towards John and then stopping, spittle flew from his mouth and a vein in his forehead popped out. ¡°Are you screwing that bitch? Is that what this is John Doe? Because that happy voice in the sky said we could do whatever we wanted to our opponents during these fights and I¡¯m gonna make her wish she¡¯d never been born¡­ using my-¡±


    ¡°Yeah I got it, you don¡¯t need to clarify,¡± John said icily. Any feelings of guilt and sympathy that he¡¯d had for the man left with that single admission. Fuck this game. You will not take my humanity. Taking a deep breath, he stared into Baz¡¯ eyes. ¡°I felt sorry for you after everything that happened, but if this game has made you such a sick fuck this quickly, then killing you now will be a mercy.¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Grinning, Baz looked John squarely in the eyes for the first time since they¡¯d started talking. His one remaining eye was wild and heavily bloodshot and he clenched and unclenched his fists a few times.


    ¡°Them¡¯s fighting words John Doe, allow me to help you live up to your name.¡±


    CRACK.


    John fired off a shot and jumped to one side in a pre-emptive dodge, then he froze in mid-air as the ground below them rumbled.


    Shit, why now?


    Looks like the first minute¡¯s up folks, and not a moment too soon, what a snooze fest am I right? We¡¯re not here for a gossip session ladies, we want blood! Less yapping and more slapping! Maybe this round¡¯s Environmental Factor will speed things up a little¡­ Bring on the lightning round!


    Huge spires shot out of the ground, reaching out of the open-topped roof and seemingly into space itself.


    A large, oriental gong popped up in between John and Baz in a red, wooden housing. It looked like it belonged in an ancient temple.


    Platforms erupted underneath the two contestants. A few small stepping stones, which seemed to be made of rubber, emerged around the arena as well and then John unfroze.


    GONG.


    His bullet struck the gong and sharp, blue lightening rained down from the spires in menacing, jagged arcs. They crackled through the air and struck the glass floor electrifying most of the arena for a few moments.


    Lightening bristled, rolling across the arena like a deadly wave shooting out in all directions from the impact of the original arc, dispersing only after hitting the barriers at the edges.


    John watched on with wide eyes and gulped, if it wasn¡¯t for the raised platform that had appeared beneath him he¡¯d have been toast.


    Without any idea of what Baz¡¯s power was, he could have been handed the advantage with his revolvers. After all he could shoot at Baz from his perch without ever having to move.


    I hope to God his card is a melee type, he thought, gazing across the arena at his smiling foe. Is he enjoying this?


    ¡°Well this sure is fun,¡± Baz said through a light cackle. ¡°Though I think you missed.¡±


    CRACK, CRACK, CRACK.


    John fired off three more shots and Baz lifted his right hand, pulling the bullets into his palm and catching them.


    ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°My new card,¡± he said cheerfully, ¡°it¡¯s magnetism, your little guns can¡¯t hurt me, thanks for the ammo though.¡±


    Pulling his arm back like a pitcher, Baz lifted a leg, stepped forward and launched the rounds back at John.


    Ducking just in time, they sailed over his head with a whizz, he raised his weapons again and began squeezing the triggers but thought better of it.


    If he tried to beat Baz with bullets then all he¡¯d do was hand him more ammunition to throw back at him.


    Fuck, now I¡¯m the one with the disadvantage.


    ¡°How is that magnetism?¡± He shouted across the arena.


    ¡°Magnets have two poles, moron.¡±


    John desperately needed a play; he was stuck on his platform in a long-range battle where his opponent could use his own bullets against him. Baz had to be using the card to repel his bullets at speed, effectively firing them back at him. He was pretty certain that wasn¡¯t how magnets worked, but this game had never seemed to care about accuracy ¨C hence his guns having unlimited ammo.


    On top of all that, if John tried to move it to close quarters he would need to cross the glass floor, leaving himself wide open for Baz to ring the gong and electrocute him.


    ¡°Head¡¯s up!¡± Baz called with a devilish laugh as he pulled a grenade from his jacket.


    Pulling the pin, he lined up the same, baseball style throw and launched the explosive towards John. Despite how it looked, the metal grenade had definitely been launched further and faster due to the card power.


    He began raising his revolver hoping that his locate weakness and marksmanship skills would help him shoot the grenade out of the sky, then he remembered Baz¡¯s magnetism power.


    The grenade soared through the sky and John knew that the timer on a frag was approximately four seconds, two of which had already passed as it flew majestically through the air.


    With only one other choice, albeit a bad one, he dived off the platform and onto the glass, covering his head with his arms.


    BOOM.


    The grenade hit the platform, rolled and then exploded outwards, showering pieces of metal around John. The smell of cordite was strong and the sound from the blast dazed him.


    His ears rang in a high-pitched whine and he couldn¡¯t hear anything else around him. His head span and, as he tried to pick himself up off the ground, he found his equilibrium out of balance.


    Stumbling as he tried to stand he fell to his knees, catching himself with his hands as the world around him shook.


    ¡°Good¡­ Doe¡­ gong¡­¡± Baz said something but John only caught a few words.


    They were enough to make him panic.


    Stumbling on the glass, John was in the perfect position for Baz to ring the gong and fry him. He needed to move or he was going to die.


    Raising his head he saw Baz pluck a knife from his jacket. Holding it by the blade, he raised it lazily above his shoulder and winked at his opponent.


    Eyes wide, John staggered forward and fell again, the ringing in his ears was starting to subside but his balance was still off.


    Looking around desperately he tried to find somewhere to go, the platform behind him was probably his best option but when he turned to look at it he saw that it had been destroyed.


    All that was left was a few shreds of ripped, destroyed rubber and it wasn¡¯t enough for him to stand on. There was no leverage.


    That left only Baz¡¯s platform which was at least fifteen feet away. Under normal circumstances that wasn¡¯t too far to dash, but John could barely move his legs without stumbling.


    There was no way he could sprint that distance, in his current state, faster than Baz could throw his knife.


    He had to try though.


    Focusing solely on placing one foot in front of the other, John tried to run¡­ and fell¡­ flat on his face as he veered off to the side.


    Pushing his hands against the floor, he lifted himself up to see Baz bent over, laughing at him.


    ¡°You look¡­ grandma¡­ bender¡­¡±


    More of the words were coming through than before but his hearing was still on the fritz. The whining, high pitched ringing in his ears was nauseating.


    He¡¯d seen this kind of thing portrayed in war movies before but experiencing it first hand was something else entirely.


    Staggering to his feet and steeling his expression he made another attempt to reach Baz¡¯s platform and, at the same time, Baz wiped a tear from his eye, stood up and resumed his knife throwing position.


    Casually, he lifted the knife by the tip of the blade, leant back slightly and launched it towards the centre of the playing field.


    It soared through the air end over end and time seemed to slow down as John followed it with his eyes, stumbling forwards desperately.


    GONG.

 Chapter 26 – Flashfrag

    The knife collided with the huge, bronze coloured gong and John¡¯s heart skipped a beat.


    Wide eyed, he turned through the haze of his messed-up equilibrium to see the huge piece of circular metal swinging on its hinges, a foreboding, mocking sound ringing out.


    ¡°Oh no,¡± he said as his ears rang in that high pitched whining sound that prevented him from properly hearing Baz¡¯s whoops of joy.


    Looking up at the nearest spire, John¡¯s heart leaped into his throat as arcing, blue lighting fired out from the top, cracking and flashing as sharp lines of death hurtled towards the glass floor.


    In less than a second he was going to be electrocuted, fried to a crisp, blackened and twitching just like Baz¡¯s brother after the phosphorus incident.


    John had jokingly mentioned that he wanted a Viking funeral once to his wife after one too many glasses of merlot, but this wasn¡¯t the burning he had in mind.


    Desperately, he turned back towards Baz¡¯s platform, his head spinning much like it was after all those bottles of red wine.


    There was no way he was going to reach it in time.


    He charged anyway.


    ***


    Baz cackled from atop his platform as he gazed out over the battlefield. John looked so funny, stumbling around like a drunkard on the ground, a far cry from the fiercely capable man he¡¯d met a few days ago.


    ¡°Checkmate,¡± he said quietly, wishing he had a bottle of Jack to raise in toast to his soon-to-be fallen opponent.


    Truthfully, he had no quarrel with the gunslinger, if anything he actually kind of liked him. John had helped him and his brother; he¡¯d rescued them from the Hob Koala and Baz couldn¡¯t even find it in his heart to blame him for the phosphorus incident.


    Sure, John had fired the bullet that had ended up killing his brother, but if he hadn¡¯t then they all would have died.


    It may have been the single worst moment of Baz¡¯s life, but at least he still had a life afterwards.


    No, the only person there that day who deserved his ire was the blonde tramp with the psycho smile. She deserved no quarter, and he would be the one to end her life, painfully.


    Unfortunately, that meant that Baz needed to win this round, and that meant that he also needed to exterminate John Doe. It was that simple. The man was tenacious, he refused to back down. It really was nothing personal.


    The wannabe cowboy knew what he was getting into when he signed up for the tournament, no one forced him to come to an alien space arena to fight strangers to the death for a card. Baz had nothing to feel bad about. This was just how the world was now. Only the strongest survived. He¡¯d had to learn that the hard way.


    He¡¯d had a difficult couple of days since the incident, he¡¯d fought countless creatures, he¡¯d barely eaten, he hadn¡¯t slept, and he¡¯d scrambled and clawed his way into acquiring his card.


    Stumbling upon Joanna as she wandered into the stadium back in Perth was simply a stroke of luck and a chance that he refused to let go to waste.


    Lightening bolted and fell towards the glass floor below as John staggered closer towards Baz¡¯s platform. He was never going to make it, how could he when he was still suffering the effects of Baz¡¯s homebrew grenade.


    Some dinosaurs in a military supply store had helped him combine a frag with a flashbang to create something that was not only deadly at the point of explosion but carried repercussion for minutes afterwards as well.


    He¡¯d called it the flashfrag, though the weird dino dude had preferred the name fragbang. That, however, sounded too close to a slur for Baz¡¯s liking. He¡¯d never been the politically correct kind of guy, growing up as he did, but he also didn¡¯t want to tarnish the good name of his new explosive either.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    His eye twitched as he watched John stumble towards him, it had been doing that ever since he lost his other one in a fight with an overly zealous kookaburra. That had been how he¡¯d won his card, luckily for him the dino dude had a magic healing bed.


    As the lightening hit the ground he placed his hand over his heart for the dead, offering a minute¡¯s silence for the man. John Doe was no more, and Baz was about to fight blondie to the death.


    ¡°So long bro, I¡¯ll make sure to kill that harlot for you,¡± he said graciously as he gazed out over the battlefield.


    ¡°I think I¡¯ll do it myself.¡±


    Baz gasped as John¡¯s gritty voice startled him from behind, then he felt something hard impact his lower back and he tripped forwards.


    ¡°What the fu-¡±


    ***


    Stumbling, staggering, and hopelessly pushing forwards towards the platform, John knew he didn¡¯t have enough time to reach it.


    His head spun and he felt sick as he forced his way onwards on unsteady legs.


    Lightening cracked overhead and the magnificent blue bolt struck downwards. John tripped just as it hit sending out a ripple of lightening around the playing field.


    Something hard and bumpy stuck into his gut and he instinctively lifted his legs up, his head was still shaky, his world spinning but he didn¡¯t feel any pain.


    Was death by lightening painless? He¡¯d always assumed it would be agonising, like being tased but worse and he¡¯d experienced the business end of a sparky stick more than once in his life.


    Scrunching his eyes closed, he realised that the ringing in his ears had begun to quieten down a little. As he reopened his eyelids, the world still swayed and was a little blurry, but it wasn¡¯t spinning so much. It felt more akin to being on the deck of ship amidst choppy waves.


    Looking down he realised that he¡¯d fallen onto one of the rubber stepping stones. There weren¡¯t many scattered around the arena but it seemed that one was placed right in front of Baz¡¯s platform, just out of his line of sight.


    His opponent couldn¡¯t have known, John hadn¡¯t seen him get close enough to the edge of his raised platform to see down at this angle.


    I can use this; he thought groggily as he pushed himself onto his hands and knees and watched the lightening ripples hit the barrier that surrounded the playing field and dissipate.


    Slowly he crawled on his hands and knees, hugging the platform and circling around to the other side. The back looked more like scaffolding which made it easier to climb as he hoisted himself up onto the reinforced rubber cross beams.


    Thankfully his grip wasn¡¯t compromised even if his equilibrium was out of whack. He scrambled over the top and shakily stood up behind Baz.


    He had deep, angry scars on the back of his head and his leather jacket looked quite beaten up from such a close distance.


    ¡°So long bro, I¡¯ll make sure to kill that harlot for you,¡± he said wistfully as he thumped his fist into his chest.


    ¡°I think I¡¯ll do it myself,¡± John said, his hoarse voice barely a whisper.


    Then he lifted his unsteady leg and Sparta kicked the paramilitary wannabe sexual offender with all his might in the base of his spine.


    ¡°What the fu-¡± Baz called out as he flew off the platform and landed face first onto the glass floor.


    Before he had even hit the ground, John drew one of his revolvers and, relying heavily on his marksmanship skill to guide his shaky hand, fired towards the gong.


    GONG.


    The deep sound of metal on metal rang out like a wave across the battlefield and John looked down at his foe as the crackling lightening sparked high above them.


    Baz landed heavily on his face and began trying to push himself off the ground, but John knew from experience that he didn¡¯t have enough time to clamber back up onto the platform.


    Craning his neck around, Baz looked at him with his one good eye, blood pouring down his chin from a busted nose, and then the lightning struck.


    Blue sharpness smashed into the glass floor with a graceful eloquence and Baz convulsed violently as the lines of lightening jumped in and out of his body like electric eels playing in the water.


    His hand gripped like a claw and his arms got stuck in a T-Rex pose as his legs violently shuddered and his neck snapped back and forth.


    The overwhelming smell of charred flesh penetrated John¡¯s nostril for the third time in as many days and he watched grimly as the man¡¯s hair burned and his skin turned a chalky, dark colour.


    It stopped almost as quickly as it started and Baz continued to convulse even after the lightning hit the barrier and fizzled out. He was done for, but he wasn¡¯t dead just yet.


    ¡°Who¡¯d have thought that you¡¯d end up just like your brother,¡± John said as he gingerly hopped off the platform, landing next to the jolting man whose one eye hadn¡¯t left his foes face the entire time.


    ¡°I¡­ guess¡­ it was¡­ fate,¡± he managed to force out as his body jerked with the aftereffects of the lightning.


    ¡°Seems so,¡± John said sadly, ¡°at least I can do for you what I didn¡¯t get the change to do for him,¡± he pulled out his revolver with a sigh.


    ¡°W-wait,¡± Baz stuttered, ¡°promise me¡­ kill her¡­¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best, one of us has to win this final and as you¡¯ve seen, I don¡¯t go down easy.¡±


    He could survive this if I left him...


    Baz laughed a little but it was an awkward, staggered sound that strained against his jittering throat. He reached towards his solar plexus in a jagged motion and sunk his hand inside.


    It passed through his clothes and skin like water, a faint light surrounding his wrist as it sank into his chest cavity. When he pulled it out there was a small metal card clutched precariously between his thumb and forefinger.


    ¡­But he¡¯s dangerous, and I need more cards.


    ¡°Take¡­ it,¡± he said with great difficulty as he struggled to let go of the card.


    John nodded, leant down and placed the barrel of his gun a mere inch from the man¡¯s head. ¡°I¡¯ll put it to good use,¡± he said. Baz closed his eye and the last thing that ever went through his mind was lead in a metal casing.

 Chapter 27 – Never Look A Gift Card In The Mouth

    As soon as the bullet left the chamber, John pried the card from the twitching, dead hand of the man he had just killed.


    Knowing that he would be placed in stasis not to awake until the start of the final, he hurriedly shoved the card into his solar plexus. He had to make sure he had it inside of him before the purple light came back.


    There was no way he was going to lose out by hesitating.


    Never look a gift card in the mouth, he thought as he felt a pleasant, yet simultaneously overwhelming, burning sensation in the spot where he¡¯d shoved the card.


    Card Acquired:


    Adamantite-Lite


    This card makes you hard.


    John furrowed his brow as he read the description, Baz had told him it was a magnetism power. He¡¯d expected to become gunslinging Magneto and instead his new power was more likely to make him Wolverine¡¯s clawless half-brother.


    ¡°What the-¡±


    ***


    Truffle followed Kesh through the back alleys of the space arena, it was a Star Wars esq rat run of open pipes, metal prefabs and dirty, hidden streets full of robots and weird aliens.


    Moreover, the tannoy never stopped going off. The Jovial Announcer¡¯s voice rang out across the entire stadium and it was so loud he could barely think.


    They¡¯d left shortly after John¡¯s first victory and had been squeezing through tight alleyways and avoiding patrols of armour-clad guards ever since.


    Truffle had hoped to be back in his box in time for Boss¡¯ second match, but at least he got to listen to the play by play as they snuck around the dirty underbelly of the arena ship.


    Aaaannnndd we have a winnnneeerr! In a dramatic twist John Doe has secured his spot in the final, besting BazzleDazzle69 and putting an end to his tom foolery with a nice, neat bullet to the head. What a show folks, we can only hope that the finals are even more enjoyable.


    Kesh looked back at Truffle with a discerning glance, ¡°human take first blood.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe we missed it,¡± the pig sulked, ¡°he¡¯s going to be so hurt when he finds out I didn¡¯t watch his match.¡±


    ¡°Fight important, levelling up more important,¡± Kesh replied.


    She really has a way with words, Truffle sighed internally.


    ¡°How long is this going to take? I want to be back in time for the finals and we¡¯ve been gone ages.¡±


    ¡°Almost there now, had to sneak, outside help not allowed till second round¡­ usually,¡± she turned back and winked. ¡°Our little secret.¡±


    Continuing through the cluttered, steamy back alley, Truffle trotted easily through the hidden parts of the ship which reminded him of one of those old platform games he¡¯d seen John play. Meanwhile Kesh had to clamber and squeeze through everything. The orc looked comically awkward attempting to sneak through passages, yet she handled it masterfully.


    I wonder if she¡¯s done this before.


    Kesh dipped to the side and Truffle followed as she squeezed past one last protruding metal pipe with ominous steam leaking from its shaft and they found themselves on a still cramped, but much wider, street.


    ¡°Contact meet us here,¡± Kesh said, ¡°I activate message device, just a moment.¡±


    ¡°Cool, so why is levelling up so secretive?¡± Truffle asked, passing the dirty street awkwardly as he looked around through shifty eyes.


    ¡°Levelling not taboo, outside help taboo. Against rules.¡±


    ¡°Until round two I know, but if we have to come back to a spaceship every time we want to level isn¡¯t that going to get a bit awkward?¡±


    Kesh raised her eyebrows, or more accurately: the skin above her eyelids as she didn¡¯t actually have eyebrows. ¡°Level up usually happen planet side, this just one off.¡±The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°How does it even work?¡± Truffle asked, irritation creeping into his voice, he hated trapsing through the metal jungle with Kesh.


    Adventure was his middle name, but not without John. It felt wrong that Boss was fighting for his life and Truffle was off somewhere scheming with Kesh. He hated it, though he knew it would be helpful in the end. He couldn¡¯t help Boss from his VIP box, but a level increase would help later.


    ¡°Need levelling stone, can be bought with shards, gifted from sponsor, stolen, won, or found in wild planet side. Much harder to get on spaceship. Very illegal.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure it¡¯s ok that you¡¯re helping me?¡± Truffle asked, suddenly forgetting his concerns for John and gaining new ones for Kesh. ¡°Won¡¯t you get in trouble?¡±


    ¡°Only if caught,¡± she said with a playful wink.


    ¡°But won¡¯t that Chairman guy know, won¡¯t the show runners notice when I return from the arena at a higher level?¡±


    ¡°System no care, showrunners no proof, victimless crime little one, you no need to worry.¡±


    With a deep sigh Truffle relented and a hooded creature popped its head out from a nearby building. The building itself was a jumble of mixed metals and clangy piping. All the buildings around the stadium were. Truffle was surprised at first to find out that the arena ship was home to over 200,000 residents.


    Kesh had explained that it took so much work to man the place that it was basically a floating city centred around a stadium.


    Apparently it was common across the galaxy for employees to live on corporate ships, especially those working in retail and hospitality.


    Alien races took the phrase the customer is always right to a whole other level. Most stores and facilities were twenty-four hours with employees on hand at all times. The arena ship was no exception and its inhabitants mostly lived in shanty prefabs, eating astronaut food from toothpaste tubes. Or at least that was Truffle¡¯s interpretation.


    ¡°Kesh?¡± The hooded creature said, its cloak covering a distinctly nonhuman shape. ¡°You got the shards?¡±


    She nodded, ¡°you got merchandise?¡±


    The hooded fellow nodded as well.


    Watching them make the exchange reminded Truffle of a movie he¡¯d watched with Mistress Anne once. Except for the part where the hooded figure poked a tentacle out from under his cloak, that definitely didn¡¯t happen in the movie ¨C at least not in that movie.


    He had seen Boss watch a tentacle movie on his laptop once which he slammed shut when Mistress Anne came home, she was never a big fan of seafood.


    Once the transaction was complete Kesh turned back to Truffle and opened her three-pronged trotter to reveal an amber gemstone that glimmered enticingly even in the low light of the back passages.


    ¡°Ooh pretty,¡± he said, eyes transfixed on the shining jewel in an otherwise dreary place. ¡°How do I do it?¡±


    ¡°Do back in VIP box, messy process.¡±


    ***


    Opening his eyes to the fading violet light, John woke with a start and instinctively drew his twin revolvers.


    Looking around frantically, he was somewhat perturbed by what he saw in front of him. He had been expecting the finals to start as soon as he awoke from stasis but instead he found himself back in Truffle¡¯s VIP box. Did he finally have some down time? That was useful.


    I guess I didn¡¯t need to shove the card in so carelessly after all, he thought as he walked up the short flight of stairs which led to the main viewing room.


    Having some time to work out how his new card worked would be useful. Joanna had a while to master her skills and if he had any chance of beating her he¡¯d need to understand Adamantite-Lite almost as well as he did Frontier Justice.


    Two cards in his deck meant that he was halfway to being able to cross the threshold to the next level of the game, he sighed in relief upon realising that.


    It felt like so long since he¡¯d arrived in Battle Royale¡¯s version of Earth and found his first card that he was beginning to wonder if he¡¯d ever actually find a second one.


    Of course in reality it had only been four days and he¡¯d been in stasis for a lot of that, but so much had happened. Maybe the stress was getting to him, it was a shame that he hadn¡¯t unlocked a stress management skill, now that would be a welcome addition to his collection of cheat skills that no one else had.


    He still wondered about that, why did he have a skills section on his stat sheet when Buck had told him that mode of the game was changed eons ago?


    More pressingly, what was he going to do with a skin hardening card? Magnetism would have been useful, he could have guided his own bullets to their targets, he could have accurately shot people from behind cover, he would have become immune to any metal weapons or projectiles.


    Now I think about it, that power would be way too OP. No wonder Baz lied to me about it.


    The worst thing was that by tricking him into thinking it was a magnetism power, he¡¯d almost won. If John had continued to open fire he would have eventually realised it was a skin hardening trick. John had to assume that Baz literally caught his bullet, which was an impressive feat in its own right.


    Lies and deceit cost nothing I guess, well played. I wonder how he fired it back at me though.


    Thankfully, once a card entered the solar plexus the recipient gained some innate knowledge on how to activate the power. Though that was a far cry from an in-depth explanation or instruction manual, it was better than nothing.


    Perhaps Kesh had more insight into the card, Buck had mentioned that most of them had been seen before in previous games.


    Trapsing up the stairs, he decided to ask her. Truffle would be glad to see him, it had only been ten minutes of fighting for John, but his teacup pig had watched multiple fights and been awake during the change overs as well.


    He was probably worried.


    ¡°Truffle, guess who¡¯s back,¡± he called as he reached the top of the stairs, ¡°Truffle?¡±


    Exiting onto the viewing floor he realised that no one was around. Food was laid out, empty drinking bowls were strewn all over the place and the sofa was off centre, but there was no one there.


    ¡°You¡¯d better not be in any trouble,¡± John said to himself.


    Where was Kesh? She was supposed to be watching him.


    Kesh!


    The meddlesome orc had expressed an interest in Truffle. She wanted to help him; she thought he was one of her people. Though she¡¯d told John that she couldn¡¯t kidnap him and he had to survive the game.


    She wouldn¡¯t have lied when he¡¯d been willing to help her. If Kesh could have gotten Truffle far away from Battle Royale to live a happy life John would have jumped at the chance to help her. He told her as much.


    I would have helped her wouldn¡¯t I?


    No, something else was going on.


    The question was: should he go looking for them or wait until they came back?


    It¡¯s more important for me to practice with this new card. Truffle is with Kesh, he¡¯ll be alright¡­ I hope.

 Chapter 28 – Levelling Up

    ¡°Ahhh!¡± Truffle screamed as he sprinted down the metal street, an armoured guard hot in pursuit.


    ¡°Stop right there!¡± It shouted in a robotic voice.


    Truffle was pretty sure that it was a robot, a humanoid robot in black and white armoured casing with a whacking stick clutched in its hand.


    ¡°Kesh, help!¡± he squealed, not daring to look behind himself.


    He had been following the orc when a patrolling guard found them, they had both sprinted away but Kesh was much faster and he¡¯d soon lost her. He couldn¡¯t believe she¡¯d ran off like that, she was supposed to be a warrior, and his friend.


    Damn these tiny legs!


    Truffle kept running, squealing as he went, and the robo-guard followed at an alarming pace. The worst thing about fleeing from a robot was that it didn¡¯t get tired.


    Not to mention that Truffle wasn¡¯t allowed in this section of the space arena and he didn¡¯t even have his card power to rely on as he hadn¡¯t consumed anyone in a while.


    He wondered if eating robo-guard would give him a power, that would be sweet.


    ¡°Little one!¡± Kesh whisper shouted.


    She was peeking out from a side alley up ahead; she had her trotter held to her lips and she winked slowly at the pig. He ran towards her, keeping his mouth shut.


    As he ran past her he skidded to a halt and turned around just in time to watch the guard¡¯s head fly off in a smattering of sparks as metal wires screeched and protested before ripping at the neck.


    ¡°Stop right¡­ there¡­ stop¡­ op¡­ I am¡­ the¡­ law.¡±


    The robot spewed a string of increasingly slowing words interspersed with beeps and boops as the little red light in its helmet went out, presumably as the electricity faded from its head.


    Its body was another case though, it continued running down the street like a headless chicken. Thankfully, it couldn¡¯t see Truffle and Kesh and after a few long strides it ran into one of the many exposed pipes and fell backwards onto the ground.


    ¡°That was a close one, thanks Kesh.¡±


    ¡°It good, almost back, come.¡±


    ***


    Truffle and Kesh returned to the VIP box laughing conspiratorially in hushed tones.


    ¡°That was great, that part where it ran away without a head¡­ classic!¡± Truffle said, barely able to contain his amusement. Taking a deep breath, and in his usual scatter-brained way, he continued.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been wondering, how come Boss and everyone else can speak pig now?¡± He asked, ¡°I¡¯ve been talking this way for as long as I¡¯ve known him and he only recently started to understand me.¡±


    ¡°System alter brain at planet induction, you understand all language now. So does human. You would need different vocal cords to speak human language, humans need different vocal cords to speak Orc language. System alter brain to account for this.¡±


    ¡°Buck said the human language was too basic for him,¡± Truffle lamented, thinking back to when he¡¯d first met the dinosaur.


    ¡°Human language use vocal cords, Buck¡¯s language use thought transfer. System make brain alteration to allow communication, harder on thought based species than us.¡±


    Truffle nodded along but he didn¡¯t really understand what Kesh was saying. As far as he was concerned, John had learnt to speak pig. What a nice Boss, learning a new language to better communicate with his companion.


    ¡°Go-go gadget arm!¡± John shouted from across the room as the two entered. He thrust his left arm out dramatically. ¡°Damn it,¡± he muttered when nothing seemed to happen.


    Truffle¡¯s eyes widened and he ran straight for the odd man in the cowboy attire, squealing ¡°Boss!¡±


    John turned just in time to be headbutted in the shin as the teacup pig barrelled towards him with violent affection.


    ¡°Where have you been?¡± He asked, bending down to rub his shin and pat the pig on his head.


    ¡°We went on an adventure!¡±


    ¡°Oh, well that sounds fun. I got through to the final round. Though I can¡¯t work out how to use this new card, I got a new card by the way, my instincts are telling me to harden my skin, but when I try it doesn¡¯t seem to do anything.¡±This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Chunttering softly as his Boss patted his head, Truffle could tell that his mind was too fixed on his own issues to be interested in the awesome adventure he¡¯d just had exploring the ship. That wasn¡¯t going to stop him from talking about it though.


    ¡°You got a new card? That¡¯s great! We made a sketchy deal in a back alley and got chased by a robo-guard. This ship is huge, but it¡¯s not as nice back there as it is in here. It¡¯s like a metal slum for poor people whilst we get to live it up in this VIP box.¡±


    The patting stopped suddenly as John removed his hand and crouched down, looking at Truffle with a furrowed brow.


    ¡°What?¡± He said, sounding a little dumb as Truffle repeated himself almost verbatim.


    ¡°I thought you were supposed to be looking after him,¡± John scolded Kesh, standing up and completely ignoring the little pig, hands placed firmly on his hips, ¡°not taking him to drug deals and fighting cops.¡±


    ¡°No drug deal, I help little one level up,¡± Kesh replied sternly, taking a seat at the bar and pouring a drink.


    ¡°Level up?¡± John looked between the two suspiciously.


    ¡°Be quiet human, watch,¡± Kesh said, taking out the amber coloured gem that she and Truffle had worked so hard to get.


    ¡°Little one, fetch,¡± she said, tossing the gem high into the air.


    Truffle instinctively moved beneath it and jumped slightly, catching it in his mouth and swallowing it whole.


    ¡°I was supposed to eat it right?¡±


    Kesh nodded her affirmation as the light began to break through the skin around Truffle¡¯s stomach. It looked like he¡¯d swallowed a potent glow stick as it beamed through his pink flesh. Reddish veins and lines of sinew became visible as his skin turned semi-transparent against the light.


    ¡°My tummy is all rumbly, I think I need to poop,¡± he said, trying to look down at his stomach and failing.


    ¡°No poop, just wait.¡±


    ¡°But this is exactly what it feels like when I¡¯ve eaten something funny and it always ends with poop.¡±


    ¡°I can second that,¡± John said raising one hand from his folded arms.


    Truffle remembered all the times John had gotten up in the middle of the night to take him outside, so he knew his Boss wasn¡¯t lying.


    Rumbling shook his core as his stomach continued to gurgle and bubble like a witch¡¯s caldron. He felt gassy as pressure built up inside him.


    Am I about to burst open like a pinata?


    Level Up Complete:


    You are now: E Rank.


    Truffle farted¡­ loudly.


    ***


    John pinched his nose as noxious fumes erupted from Truffle¡¯s behind. If he had been a cartoon character it would have been visible green gas. Instead it was simply a warm, rotting smell.


    ¡°I hope that¡¯s not toxic,¡± he said, his voice sounding nasally due to his pinched nose.


    ¡°It smell toxic,¡± Kesh added, placing a three pronged trotter over her own snout.


    ¡°I did it!¡± Truffle cheered, bouncing around the floor.


    ¡°We know,¡± John said dryly.


    ¡°Little one get notification?¡± Kesh asked and Truffle nodded, ¡°odd, usually messier.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ what now?¡± John asked, looking between Kesh and Truffle, ¡°he doesn¡¯t look any different.¡±


    ¡°Level up subtle, increase unseen stats: strength, agility, standard game stuff,¡± Kesh replied with a casual wave of her trotter.


    ¡°Buck mentioned that you can¡¯t see stats,¡± John mused, rubbing his chin as he thought back on that conversation, ¡°but it makes him stronger?¡±


    ¡°Yes, harder to kill. He sleep now, process tyring.¡±


    As if on cue Truffle yawned loudly and John moved to pick him up, swaddling him in a nearby blanket and placing him on the sofa. He was snoring before his head touched the upholstery.


    ¡°Then it was worth doing,¡± John nodded to Kesh, keeping his voice low, ¡°thank you. You don¡¯t happen to know anything about the new card I got do you? I can¡¯t seem to make it work.¡±


    ¡°What name?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s called Adamantite-Lite.¡±


    ¡°Strong card, much better after level up. Saw it on last season, contestant made small circle of hard skin. Like steel.¡±


    John nodded along, furrowing his brow as he tried to work out exactly what Kesh meant. She was an Orc of few words and limited English.


    ¡°Small circles?¡± He asked after a few moments, ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to harden my entire fist.¡±


    ¡°No work, not until level up. Only small circles now.¡±


    Nodding along he felt something click into place in his mind and decided to try again, this time without the verbal cues from old cartoons.


    He tried to start small, first just holding out his hand and facing his palm towards himself. He imagined hardening a small circle in the centre of his palm.


    Grunting as he strained to keep control of the power, he felt something click into place and a small part of the skin on his palm turned gunmetal grey. He prodded it and it felt like metal, cold and hard.


    That must be how Baz caught my bullets, he thought as realisation struck.


    It stood to reason that Baz had hardened part of his palm and caught the bullets in his hand, which was a very impressive feat even with the card power.


    Surely no human could pull that off, there had to be more too it. Looking towards Kesh, he got his answer.


    As he moved to turn around he found himself moving too fast and he spun completely around with minimal effort and minor disorientation.


    ¡°Card make reactions faster, gets better after level up.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re telling me, this is going to take some getting used to,¡± John replied, feeling a little dizzy, which was something he¡¯d had more than enough of after the last battle. His equilibrium still felt off even now, though he was pretty certain it was just his mind playing tricks on him since the stasis light healed him.


    The card¡¯s enhanced movement speed must have been how Baz had appeared to fire the bullet back at John. First he¡¯d caught it, then he¡¯d simply thrown it with the extra momentum provided by the card. It was pretty impressive, and lying about the nature of his card was clever, even if it was a gamble.


    If John had realised at the time, he could have simply fired a barrage of bullets at the man and ended the round there and then. He¡¯d had the real advantage all along, but Baz had tricked him.


    Never take anyone at their word, his father¡¯s voice reverberated in his head. He pushed it away.


    ¡°How long do I have until the next round?¡± He asked Kesh.


    ¡°Few hours, final take place at night.¡±


    ¡°Right, then I better not waste them, I need to be able to master this power before then.¡±


    ¡°Ha! Good luck human, power tricky.¡±


    Knowing that he had to try, John set about practicing. If he¡¯d had a speaker he would have blasted Eye Of The Tiger and turned it into an 80¡¯s montage. Sadly, the real world didn¡¯t work like that, this would take hours of non-stop, deliberate practice.

 Chapter 29 – The Finals

    Awaking once more inside the glowing purple stasis light that enveloped him, John gazed out across the arena, eyes watering from the sudden burst of floodlights.


    Though it was nighttime in the stadium, you wouldn¡¯t have known it. For one, being on a spaceship meant there was no natural light anyway and secondly, the stadium was so full of people that a new standing section had been erected just behind the barrier that surrounded the playing field to fit them all in.


    Aliens must be night workers, no wonder they¡¯re so violent.


    Welcome back folks! The Jovial Announcer proclaimed to raucous screaming and cheers. Would you look at this turn out? There are fans from all over system-controlled space here tonight. In fact, as of just a moment ago, we reached 85 billion viewers galaxy wide, making this the most watched event of the season so far!


    More cheering followed and the voice waited a moment before continuing. John had the sudden urge to pull up his interface and check out his own views, but he couldn¡¯t. The stasis light wouldn¡¯t allow it.


    Still, assuming the view counter updated in real time, he had more people watching him than he¡¯d even known existed. The number was so abstract that it barely made a difference to his nerves. How could he be nervous when he was being watched by more people than the human mind can even comprehend? Ten times more people were watching this than lived on planet Earth prior to the invasion. That was simply mind boggling.


    If this isn¡¯t the pinnacle of galaxy-wide entertainment then I don¡¯t know what is. Who would have thought that we¡¯d have an all-human final, folks? I know I certainly didn¡¯t! Humans, a species barely more evolved than a sylak, knocking out every single one of our avatars. What an upset, what a tragedy, what incredible television!


    Cheering erupted from the stands once more, drowning out the announcer who John imagined was sitting back in his chair with a satisfied smile. He had no idea who, or what, the owner of the voice was, but he wasn¡¯t a fan.


    Are you ready to see our two humans battle it out for the grand prize? He asked to torrents of ear-splitting screams.


    John had always wondered why crowds responded to every question with a whoop. He and Anne had attended a few concerts in their time and it was always the same: ¡°How are you doing tonight?¡± ¡°Woo¡±, ¡°are you ready for another song?¡± ¡°Woo¡±, ¡°I¡¯m going to sleep with your daughter after the show,¡± ¡°woo!¡±.


    What a load of crap, John thought as he waited for the cheers to die down.


    Wow, what a response, folks. But before we start the match, I just want to say that it has been my sincere pleasure to announce this tournament for you all. My name is A.J. and this has been the best tournament of the solar year. I am truly humbled to have been selected to announce this magnificent piece of entertainment history, along with being the sole announcer for Battle Royale Earth. What an honour it is.


    He has a name? John thought, well, he has initials¡­ not really a name. I wonder if they stand for Announcer, Jovial?


    Alrighty folks, without further ado, let¡¯s get on with the show. In this corner, weighting in at 182 pounds and dressing like a children¡¯s old west party entertainer, it¡¯s¡­ John Doe!


    182? I must have lost weight. I guess the apocalypse is the perfect time to get back into shape.


    Cheers and boos erupted in equal measure from around the stands. John tried to spot who was for and against him but there were too many people to draw any real conclusions.


    And in this corner, weighing in at¡­ actually it¡¯s rude to talk about a lady¡¯s weight so I¡¯ll skip that part, it¡¯s the child burning crowd favourite, the murdering matriarch, the blonde bombshell who has been touted the most likely to win this season¡¯s Battle Royale, it¡¯s¡­ Joanna99!


    The cheers she got were deafening. Boos crept through the barrier of sound but there were far fewer than John had received.


    Did he just say she¡¯s the favourite to win Battle Royale? Oh hell no, that¡¯s my title bitch!


    In just a moment we¡¯ll unleash these ruffians, A.J. said, quieting the crowd as they listened with bated breath. But first, there¡¯s a few new additions to this final. The first being an early round Environmental Factor.


    As he spoke trees began sprouting from the ground, as if the growth cycle was being watched in fast forward, great oaks, jungle vines and alien flora shot up all around the playing field.


    Within seconds John¡¯s view of Joanna¡¯s stasis tube was obstructed. Even the crowd had been hidden from his view as he found himself in the middle of a dense jungle.


    The first portion of the final round will be played inside a bonafide Earthen jungle¡­ A.J. let those words hang in the air as the audience murmured excitedly.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Looking at the alien flora on the ground and the mixture of jungle trees and oaks from the other side of the world, he doubted the authenticity of that claim.


    The second Environmental Factor will commence when there is only one minute remaining on the timer. I can¡¯t wait to see how this game of cat and mouse plays out folks. Oh, we¡¯ve also released some monsters into the jungle to add a little¡­ spice. Good luck contestants, we¡¯re routing for you.


    Three!


    The crowd began to join in and though he could no longer see them, their booming voices shook his light tube.


    Two!


    One!


    Go!


    With widened eyes, John felt his body return to him. His movements no longer impeded by the bright purple light which vanished behind him.


    Searching around for a vantage point or some part of the topography which might give him an advantage, John pulled his twin revolvers from his card deck and gripped them tightly.


    His foe could be lurking behind every tree, hiding behind any plant. John¡¯s chest felt tight as his racing heart thumped against the inside of his chest cavity.


    I guess even emotional dampening skills like my Trauma Response and Greif Counselling can¡¯t mitigate the body¡¯s natural response to fear. How I love me that adrenaline, he thought as he took his first step into the thick jungle.


    It made sense to John that he should move away from his starting position as soon as possible. Joanna had surely seen the direction he¡¯d been in before the trees shot up and it was also a small clearing. There was no cover and staying in the starting location would have been idiotic.


    Why would anyone hand their opponent and advantage like that?


    Then again, maybe I can use that to my advantage. Joanna is sure to come waltzing straight towards my starting point.


    Creeping through the dense canopy and trying not to make any noise, John was constantly startled by rustling bushes and the occasional squark. Apart from that, it was deathly silent.


    A.J. had mentioned that there would be monsters in the jungle and John was hoping to avoid them. If he had to use his guns to defend himself then Joanna would know exactly where he was.


    The playing field wasn¡¯t big enough to hide the sound of gunshots. Thankfully, John had a few tricks up his sleeve from his days in basic. An idea had begun to form, but he needed a moment to make some preparations.


    Looking around wearily, he decided he was in the clear. Dropping a single revolver back into his deck, he bent down and scraped up some mud from the floor.


    There was only a thin coating covering the ground, under that was the familiar glass panels which showed a breathtaking view of Earth. He didn¡¯t need much though.


    John began smothering the mud across his face, hands and any other part of him that could catch the light and shine. He then set about distorting his shape with broken tree branches, foliage, more mud and basically anything he could find that would help break up the human body¡¯s shape.


    Human eyes are naturally drawn to shapes which resemble the body, particularly in natural settings as they do not belong there and the subconscious notices that.


    Therefore, camouflaging oneself is often more about distorting that human shape, than it is about blending in through colour changes.


    John fondly remembered camouflaging himself during basic. Part of him wished he could go back to those simpler times, though he never thought he¡¯d be using those skills to kill a woman in an alien death game.


    Now we wait, he thought, narrowing his eyes seriously.


    ***


    Joanna strolled boldly through the jungle.


    She had considered trying to sneak around but she wanted to win and this was a timed battle. Besides, she had fire on her side. The predator does not pussyfoot around the prey.


    A few small, toothy creatures jumped out at her, but they were no match for her flames. Their little squeals were barely even satisfying. She was hunting bigger prey.


    The excitement of facing off one on one with Doe was heart pounding. It was a shame she would have to kill him so soon; she¡¯d been hoping to make him her nemesis for the rest of the game. She felt an odd connection to the man. He could be useful. He was like a loaded gun and she felt like all she would have to do was pull the trigger and she could fire him. He could have been so very useful in her revenge plan. It was a real shame she wouldn¡¯t get to find out.


    Barnabus had already suggested that she try not to kill him during clashes because it made for good TV and, as she¡¯d suspected, viewers were everything in Battle Royale.


    However, he¡¯d changed his mind when he discovered that John was in the tournament with her. Barnabus had said that killing her nemesis early on in the game, and in a tournament no less, would solidify her superiority among the other human competitors.


    Besides, she needed another card and he was in the way.


    It was a shame, but she had to do what she had to do, right? Barnabus had insisted that the ratings she¡¯d gain from winning this tournament would far outweigh any potential viewer increase she¡¯d get from keeping John alive as a returning villain on Battle Royale, and he hadn¡¯t steered her wrong so far. That was the beauty of a mutually beneficial relationship.


    She didn¡¯t need to trust him, she only needed to trust in his desire to reach whatever goal he was using her to get. Things are simpler that way, people will always do what¡¯s in their best interest.


    Keeping John around as a villain for her to clash with would have been good TV though.


    Or was she the villain? She could never quite remember. She didn¡¯t feel like a villain, though her actions served to contradict that. Then again, she supposed no one ever really felt like a villain did they?


    All she wanted was revenge.


    She¡¯d hoped to use John to help her get it. But If he was going to get in the way, then he would have to die. It was simple. It didn¡¯t matter that she kinda liked him, it didn¡¯t matter that he might be useful later, all that mattered was winning in the here and now. So that is what she was going to do.


    Finally, she thought as she stepped into the clearing where John had likely started. That¡¯s odd, shouldn¡¯t we have run into each other by now?


    SNAP.


    Turning lightly on her feet, she heard the sound of a twig snapping. The noise broke her from her reverie and she smiled, hoping it would be John Doe. She¡¯d been walking dazedly through the jungle for a while and she was ready for a fight.


    SNAP.


    Without hesitation she fired off a fireball in the direction of the noise, something squeaked and a bush caught fire.


    Must have been a rat or something, she thought dismissively, turning back around.


    CRACK.


    Burning pain lit up her shoulder as she was knocked from her feet. Her head span and warm rivulets of blood ran down her chest.


    ¡°Fuck!¡± She shouted, ¡°he¡¯s better than I gave him credit for.¡±

 Chapter 30 – No Hesitation

    Hiding in the bushes, laying on his stomach in the dirt, John watched as Joanna waltzed arrogantly into his starting clearing.


    He¡¯d decided to hang back and wait for her. He knew her well enough to suspect that she¡¯d forgo any form of strategy for a brute force approach and he planned to use it against her.


    Who¡¯d have thought I¡¯d end up being a camper, he thought as his opponent fired off a ball of flames into a nearby bush. Something yelped and she looked in its direction, giving John the perfect opportunity.


    Without hesitation, he levelled his gun and fired a shot at her.


    CRACK.


    She spun around from the impact and shouted, ¡°fuck!¡±


    Damnit! I was aiming for her head. John thought, clenching his teeth in frustration.


    What now? Did he wait and see if he could find a better chance or did he press the attack?


    He knew he couldn¡¯t beat her in a close quarter battle, but she was a loose cannon and if she started burning down the forest then he¡¯d be the one at a disadvantage. She could quite literally smoke him out of his hiding place.


    Fuck it, he thought determinedly.


    This time levelling both revolvers at her, he let off a volley of rounds.


    CRACK, CRACK, CRACK.


    Looking directly at him with a vicious smile tugging at her lips, she waved her hand across the front of her face like a jedi and the bullets stopped in mid-air before falling to the ground.


    ¡°Nice try,¡± she said, looking him dead in the eyes. ¡°But now I know which bush you¡¯re hiding in.¡±


    Fucking telekinesis!


    With almost no visible effort at all, she opened her hand sending a vortex of flame in his direction. Leaves wilted before his eyes and John knew he needed to act fast.


    Trying not to give her a direct line of sight on him, he rolled to the side a few times. She¡¯d already confessed that she could only see the correct bush, not John himself, and he wanted it to stay that way.


    Waging a war of attrition was his best chance.


    ¡°I don¡¯t hear screaming,¡± Joanna cooed playfully before firing off another few fireballs for good measure. ¡°Come out and play John, I know what you like, and it isn¡¯t hiding in the bushes like a scared rat.¡±


    John scurried through the undergrowth like the very vermin she had just described. Branches, nettles, and sharp alien flora scratched at his skin. He was thankful for his duster but maybe the next time he visited a kiosk it would be wise to invest in a mask.


    His face was sore, stinging from the barrage of greenery as he crawled as unobtrusively as he could, flames nipping at his boots.


    Turning sharply, he saw Joanna pacing in the clearing like a lion deciding on the best way to pounce on its pray. His eyes stung from the smoke which was filling his hiding spot as flames destroyed his cover. Pretty soon there would be no jungle left to hide in, he needed to act decisively.


    Rolling a little further to the side, he channelled his locate weakness skill and fired off a few more rounds.


    CRACK, CRACK, CRACK.


    The first round hit her shin and she dropped to the ground like a bag of bricks as the other two sailed overhead.


    This was his chance; he needed to act before she had time to recover. Jumping to his feet, he sprinted out of the flaming bushes, firing his guns akimbo.


    She lifted her hands and, flapping them around like she was conducting an orchestra, batted each round away with her telekinesis power.


    What a pain in the ass! John thought as he closed the gap, still firing aimlessly as she battered away round after round.


    If only I had a mini gun. Time for plan B, he thought, dropping his guns which vanished back into his soul space before they hit the ground.


    Leaping into the air like a superhero, John concentrated hard on his new card Adamantite-lite. Focusing specifically on creating tiny circles of hardness on each of his knuckles.


    Let¡¯s see her telekinesis block this!


    Landing hard on Joanna¡¯s stomach, straddling her like an untamed horse, he threw his first punch.


    A low thud rang out as his hardened knuckles made contact with her nose and she half scream half grunted as the cartilage gave way, cracking under the might of his reinforced fist.


    One hit wasn¡¯t going to be enough though and he knew it, allowing his potent rage skill to take over he threw punch after punch into her pretty face.


    ¡°You like hitting women?¡± She said through a bloody grin, grunting under the pressure of each blow.


    ¡°You¡¯re not a woman, you¡¯re not even human. You¡¯re a monster,¡± John replied through gritted teeth and contorted lips. ¡°I found that family, they were my neighbours, you burnt their kid to ashes. You lost the right to call yourself a person right there.¡±


    ¡°I was saving them from this living hell!¡± She protested moving her arms up to protect herself. But it was in vain as John pulled them apart and continued his volley of blows.


    Slipping one hand out of his grasp, she clutched his cheek and fire radiated from her fingertips.


    John gritted his teeth and instinctually grabbed her wrist, forcing it down and pinning her arm to the floor under the weight of his knee.


    As he did so, melted flesh clung to her fingers, agony burned through the side of his face as he watched his skin peel away. Though the pain was causing black spots to appear in his vision, it also served to stoke his rage as he slammed his fist into her mouth, feeling teeth crack against the hardened, improvised knuckle dusters afforded to him by his Adamantite-lite card.


    Though her powers were terrifying, thankfully she lacked physical strength. John was far stronger and he had weight on his side as well.


    ¡°Stop,¡± she whimpered, tears welling in her swollen eyes.


    He almost did, despite the pain, despite¡­ everything, hearing her voice so broken and weak tugged on his heart strings.


    ¡°Please,¡± she pleaded and his fist stopped, hovering in midair above her bloodied face..


    What am I doing? He asked himself, do I really want to win like this?


    With a deep sigh, he pulled a revolver from his card deck. She had been beaten, there was no need to prolong the pain. A simple bullet should do the trick. It sounded callous and he knew that, but he needed the tournament prize, the card, to survive and by killing Joanna he could take both of hers as well. Besides, she was too dangerous to leave alive.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    She had forfeited her right to a second chance when she had decided to set an innocent family on fire, burning a child to death. She truly was a monster. Killing her mercifully would hopefully prevent John from turning into one as well.


    You will not take my humanity. Fuck this game.


    Placing the muzzle on her forehead, he began to squeeze the trigger.


    Looks like we¡¯re entering the final minute folks! I can¡¯t wait to find out what the second environmental factor will be.


    Time stopped as the two were frozen, eyes locked as John straddled the bloodied and bleeding woman. The barrel of his gun placed firmly against her forehead.


    The jungle melted away, rocks formed, lava streams pulsating in rivets carved into the brittle ground. The heat was oppressive, overwhelming. The crowd came back into view. This new environment was a flat expanse of lava and rocks.


    Small bumps, like miniature volcanoes, grew out of the rocks and began spitting molten rocks into the air. They glowed bright orange and red as they began raining down around the two contestants like hail.


    John was now at a disadvantage and he knew it. The second time resumed, he needed to pull the trigger. He needed to end this match right now.


    Time resumed and John tried to squeeze the trigger but Joanna reacted a split second faster.


    I should have kept Adamantite-lite activated. Fuck!


    ¡°DIE!¡± she yelled primally, grabbing his weapon and twisting the cylinder.


    He pulled the trigger at roughly the same time but nothing happened, she had disarmed his pistol. How had she known that would work? John didn¡¯t even know that until Buck had told him as he faced off against the Whowie.


    ¡°You¡¯re weak,¡± she said as blood dripped into her mouth, ¡°in this game, it¡¯s kill or be killed. No hesitation.¡±


    Flames erupted from her chest and John was blasted off her. He flew through the air landing painfully on his back as the oxygen evacuated his lungs. His duster had a hole burned clean through it and he staggered, struggling to catch his breath as third-degree burns bubbled nastily on his chest. Molten rocks fell from the sky, burning more holes into his duster and his skin. It hurt like hell and he stifled a scream.


    ¡°You¡¯re only trying to save yourself!¡± She screamed.


    Isn¡¯t that what we¡¯re all doing? John wondered, confused.


    Looking up at Joanna, her eyes seemed misty and bloodshot as she staggered to her feet, advancing on him. She was sporting a thousand-yard stare and, if he didn¡¯t know better, John could have sworn she was unconscious. Her eyes seemed to be completely glazed over and she completely ignored the raining lava rocks which sizzled her flesh as they did his.


    ¡°This is why I ran away you bastard!¡± She yelled, blood pouring from her face. One of her eyes was swollen shut from the bruising. Her teeth were a mess as well, she looked half dead and despite the volume, her voice was cold. ¡°What more do you want from me! I loved you for fuck¡¯s sake. I gave you a child, and you¡­ you.¡±


    Her anger turned into sobbing as John watched, frozen and horrified, as she advanced on him staggering like a zombie. Had his punches given her brain damage? She definitely wasn¡¯t talking about him. Was she having a flashback? He knew she was pretty messed up but he hadn¡¯t realised she was this mentally damaged.


    Who is she talking to? John thought, then something clicked and he understood.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he said, pulling his guns from his card deck as he stumbled to his feet. ¡°This fucking game, it really sucks.¡±


    You will not take my humanity. I will burn it all down.


    Lifting his revolver he looked upon her broken face. His rage had vanished along with any malice he¡¯d held for her, washed away by a single realisation: she had suffered too. In that moment he knew that his rage had been misplaced. There was only one entity responsible for all this: Tanlan and his showrunners.


    Suddenly, all he felt towards Joanna was¡­ pity.


    Scrunching up his eyes for a moment as he took a breath to steady his aim, he pulled the trigger.


    ***


    Not again, Joanna thought as punches rained down on her face.


    Sharp pain rattled her head as she looked into the eyes of a man whose face bore nothing but rage and hatred. John Doe had given into primal instinct as he hit her again and again, a barrage of passionate disdain. A look she knew all too well.


    Not again, she thought as she looked into those vengeful eyes and saw not her opponent in the tournament, but the love of her life.


    ¡°You¡¯re not a woman, you¡¯re not even human. You¡¯re a monster,¡± John said through gritted teeth and contorted lips. ¡°I found that family, they were my neighbours. You burnt their kid to ashes. You lost the right to call yourself a person right there.¡±


    ¡°I was saving them from this living hell!¡± She protested and something clicked, suddenly she was in two places at once. She couldn¡¯t tell which was real. It was all so visceral.


    The jungle melted away, John¡¯s face replaced by that of her husband as she was transported back to the day of the cataclysm, the day she had lost everything. The day the system came.


    The torii gate was dead ahead, her son Stevie cradled in her arms, unaware, delicate. All around her the world was falling apart. Gun fire, sirens, screams, all surrounded her. The air smelled of cordite¡­ and blood.


    Tears blurred her vision and pain shot through her feet as she ran through glass towards the torii gate: her salvation. It was the only place that was safe. The only place where she could take her son away from all of this.


    ¡°Wait!¡± Her husband Billy shouted panic stricken. ¡°Wait for fuck¡¯s sake, do what I tell you Joanna!¡±


    Stopping, she turned to see her husband, red in the face and covered in blood. A smoking shotgun in his hand.


    ¡°Look at the numbers,¡± he said quietly and she obeyed. She always obeyed.


    Looking up she saw the number two in the metal atop the gate.


    Two, was that two minutes until it closed or two spots left?


    ¡°There¡¯re only two places left,¡± he said, a hard look in his eyes. ¡°You¡¯re gonna have to leave the kid.¡±


    She didn¡¯t reply, she simply stared at him uncomprehendingly.


    ¡°Do you hear me damn it? Leave the fucking kid, we¡¯ll make a new one. He ain¡¯t gonna survive whatever this shitshow is anyhow.¡±


    ¡°How could you say that?¡± She asked in a hushed tone, ¡°how could you even think it?¡±


    She blinked and Billy¡­ or was it John? Was sat on top of her, a fancy revolver pressed to her temple and an oddly familiar jungle canopy allowing only partial streams of light to shine on her bloodied face. Rage bubbled up inside of her.


    Not again!


    ¡°DIE!¡± She screamed, spittle flying from her mouth like a feral beast as she twisted the cylinder, trying to push it out of the gun itself, removing the bullets.


    ¡°You¡¯re weak,¡± Billy said, leaning in so close she could smell the intoxicants on his rancid breath, ¡°It¡¯s kill or be killed. No hesitation.¡±


    She blinked and suddenly she was back in front of the torii gate.


    Billy pressed the muzzle of his shotgun to Stevie¡¯s head, gritted his teeth and his reddened eyes squinted at the boy, hardened.


    ¡°Billy no, please!¡± She pleaded hysterically, ¡°I¡¯ll come back, I won¡¯t run away again. Just please don¡¯t hurt him.¡±


    ¡°Is he even mine?¡± Billy asked coldly, ¡°faithful wives don¡¯t run away Joanna.¡±


    ¡°Of course he¡¯s yours!¡± She yelled, edging closer, ¡°I didn¡¯t cheat on you Billy, you just scare me, you¡¯re always so angry, you hurt me¡­ you¡­¡±


    ¡°Shut up bitch!¡± He snarled, holding Stevie out at arm¡¯s length by the scruff of his neck.


    Wailing emanated from the child whose red face scrunched up as he cried a primal, terrified scream.


    ¡°Billy you¡¯re hurting him!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m saving him,¡± he shouted, ¡°saving him from this living hell!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re only trying to save yourself!¡±


    He tipped the sawn-off shotgun down; muzzle resting on the chest of his child and began squeezing the trigger.


    Joanna dived forwards, placing both hands on the shotgun, attempting to wrestle it away from him. He was stronger, but something deep inside her gave her strength. It was a yearning to save her baby boy, the kind of visceral, reptilian strength that only a mother could produce.


    CRACK.


    The crying stopped.


    Joanna stood, holding the gun.


    Mouth agape an ear-splitting, broken wail started up and then died in her throat. It wasn¡¯t her fault, it was him, it was always him. It wasn¡¯t her fault. It isn¡¯t my fault. It was him. It was him. It was him!


    ¡°Gimme the gun Joanna, we¡¯ll survive this, we¡¯ll make a new child once we beat back these alien fucks. I love you baby.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t my fault. It was him.


    Coldly, she stared at Billy with a blank face. Emotionless, broken. Tears ran down her cheeks, her eyes hazy and uncomprehending.


    ¡°This is why I ran away from you, you bastard,¡± she said, her voice the volume of a shout but as still as a frozen winter lake. ¡°What more do you want from me! I loved you for fuck¡¯s sake. I gave you a child, and you¡­ you.¡±


    Without hesitation, she pointed the weapon at his chest and pulled the trigger, then turned and stepped through the torii gate, heartbroken and alone.


    ***


    Opening her eyes she saw John Doe staring at her down the barrel of his gun. When had he stopped hitting her? Why was she standing?


    Stevie! Her heart pounded as she remembered where she was. That had happened days ago. She was a different person now. She was salvation. She was revenge.


    Gazing deeply into his eyes, she saw glistening, sorrow.


    When had he stopped hating her?


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he said softly and her heart jumped inside her chest. No man had ever spoken to her with such sincere compassion. No person had. It stunned her.


    Eyes tracking down, she saw his finger begin a slow squeeze.


    I need to get revenge, she thought, but it was a half-hearted plea. Stevie died because of these aliens, I need to win, I need to win so I can kill them all. It wasn¡¯t my fault. It was them. They need to die. They all need to die.


    Despite the jumbled thoughts bouncing around inside her mind, she made no attempt to move. She didn¡¯t fight back; she didn¡¯t even try to dodge.


    Maybe if she had fought back when it truly mattered, before the day of the apocalypse, things would have turned out differently.


    CRACK.

 Chapter 31 - Greenroom

    Squeezing the trigger, John barely felt the kickback as the bullet exited the chamber with a loud crack and muzzle flash.


    He had won, and he hadn¡¯t lost himself in order to do it. This was a merciful kill and he could be proud of that. The more he lost himself to this game the more the aliens won and he wouldn¡¯t allow that to happen.


    DING, DING, DING.


    Time is up! A.J. sang as everything froze.


    Looking across at Joanna, her eyes were wide, as were his. The bullet hung between them in midair, frozen in time.


    She was still alive.


    What the hell! There¡¯s no way the timer ended mid shot, no fucking way! This game is rigged! John thought, though he happily would have shouted it to anyone who would listen if he wasn¡¯t stuck in the stasis light and unable to move his mouth.


    On the upside, he couldn¡¯t feel the agonising pain in his melted cheek and bubbling chest anymore.


    The molten rocks and lava were sucked back into the ground as the two contestants stood staring at each other, unable to move, unable to communicate.


    What a shocker of a finale folks. Who¡¯d have thought that contestant John Doe would take the upper hand? I certainly didn¡¯t. Aren¡¯t Earth guns cool? I¡¯m thinking about buying one for my kid, and on that note. Here¡¯s a word from one of our sponsors.


    John didn¡¯t get a chance to watch the advert that was definitely playing on a hologram across the arena. His purple light tube was sucked away, but this time, though there was darkness, he was awake.


    Previously he¡¯d always been put into a stasis sleep after the end of a round. He wondered why that wasn¡¯t the case this time.


    It felt like he was floating in the darkness for quite a while, then all of a sudden light flooded in all around him, burning his retina and blinding him.


    He felt himself drop to the floor as the stasis ended, but his eyes were scrunched up hard against the florescent lighting all around him.


    I¡¯m about to get probed aren¡¯t I?


    The stasis tube disappeared and he dropped to the floor, instinctively throwing his hands over his eyes to protect them as he adjusted to the bright light which enveloped him.


    ¡°Welcome contestant, can I get you a caffeinated beverage?¡±


    Peering through the cracks in his fingers, John could just about make out the oddly feminine, metal figure of black and white¡­ is that a robot?


    ¡°You look like if C3PO procreated with a Stormtrooper,¡± he said, his jaw slackening as the pain in his retina began to subside.


    ¡°This unit recognises the human dependency of humour in traumatic situations. Ha ha. Ha ha. Can I offer you a caffeinated beverage?¡± The voice had that distinct computerised sound that one associated with an android, and blue lights glowed in time with the syllables, creating an eerily wide smile.


    Shuddering, John got to his feet and began removing his hands from his face.


    He stood in a white room, a completely white room filled with white, futuristic-looking chairs, a white, glossy table and not much else. Looking down he saw that his wounds had been healed. Though there was some mild scarring.


    It was so bright.


    He felt naked under the florescent light, not a shadow in sight. Also, the robot was creepy as fuck.


    ¡°Can I offer you a caffeinated beverage?¡± The robot asked again, holding out a steaming metal kettle and a white Styrofoam cup ¨C or at least something that looked like one. John wasn¡¯t certain that aliens had Styrofoam.


    ¡°Where am I?¡± He asked, ignoring the robot¡¯s hospitality once more.


    ¡°You are in greenroom 794-B,¡± the robot replied clinically, ¡°can I offer you-¡±


    ¡°Greenroom?¡± John interrupted, ¡°it¡¯s not very¡­ green. Am I still on the arena ship?¡±


    ¡°Yes, this is level 27SB, one of the lower levels used to hold guests, can I offer-¡±This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    ¡°What am I being held for? Didn¡¯t I just win the tournament, I¡¯m sure that¡¯s what A.J. announced.¡±


    ¡°Yes, congratulations on your victory contestant. You are being held here because soon you will be interviewed on live galactic television. Can I offer you a-¡±


    ¡°Live TV?¡± John asked incredulously, he felt sick.


    He knew that Battle Royale was an intergalactic TV show, but so far he¡¯d mostly kept it from his mind.


    Fighting in the arena, he¡¯d been watched by thousands of blood thirsty fans who cheered for his death and the deaths of his opponents.


    But now¡­ now he was expected to go on live TV and talk about it? His head span, rage filled his gut and he looked into the blank eyes of his robot butler.


    ¡°Can I offer you a caffeinated beverage?¡±


    ¡°Can you make it Irish?¡±


    ***


    ¡°Have you lost your damned mind?!¡± His brother screamed down the phone at Barnabus. ¡°Rigging the finals? If the showrunners find out they¡¯ll cut off your head and fuck the corpse, you stupid prick! What¡¯s your problem with living, huh?¡±


    Barnabus held the phone at arm¡¯s length but could still hear perfectly the screaming voice as it danced through the receiver and assaulted his ears.


    Yet despite the outrage, he couldn¡¯t help but smile as he sat with his legs resting comfortably on a buffet, his backside caressed by satin pillows and his view; that of the arena below. VIP boxes were simply splendid.


    ¡°Take a breath brother, you¡¯ll go into cardiac arrest if you keep screaming like that,¡± he said, faking concern as he prepared to hold the phone away from his ear once more.


    ¡°Is that supposed to be a joke?¡± The brother shouted, ¡°a man with three hearts having a heart attack, which one? The left, the right or the one they¡¯ll rip out of my chest and shove down my throat when they find out what you¡¯ve done? You know the showrunners don¡¯t do mercy, they¡¯ll kill everyone you¡¯ve ever met, you dumb fuck. Why¡­ why would you rig the game? If your girl was too shit to win on her own merit then you should have let her die¡­ jackass.¡±


    Barnabus waited a second to check that his brother was done before replying. ¡°Joanna¡¯s views have skyrocketed from this and you know as well as I that this is a game of popularity, not ability. How could I let her die when we¡¯re so close to freedom? Do you want to wait another century for the next game, or do you want to be rid of these shackles?¡±


    Smiling contentedly to himself, he leaned his scaled head back against the plush sofa cushion. He¡¯d always been a rather convincing fellow, one might even call him utterly roguish, if he did say so himself.


    ¡°You know as well as I do that servitude is preferable to death,¡± the brother replied in a calmer tone. ¡°But, if you¡¯re sure this won¡¯t come back to bite us in the ass then I guess I¡¯ll defer to your judgement. Just tell me one thing, how did you do it?¡±


    ¡°Oh, it was rather simple really. Merely a matter of stopping the clock a few seconds early, barely a scandal at all if you ask me. Who¡¯s going to notice a few seconds?¡±


    ¡°How did you gain access to the arena¡¯s clock?¡±


    ¡°Every man has to have some secrets. Perhaps I¡¯ll tell you when you¡¯re older, little brother.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re twins you ass bandit!¡±


    ¡°And yet I am the older twin, by two minutes and nineteen seconds if I remember correctly. You should learn to respect your elders little one.¡±


    The line went dead and Barnabus chuckled to himself. He¡¯d been alive almost one thousand years and yet he still never tired of irritating his sibling.


    ***


    ¡°And then she put Truffle in a dress and started singing to him, some ludicrous song where she called him Princess Bubblegum the Third,¡± John slurred between hiccups. ¡°Oh man it was the funniest thing; you had to be there I guess.¡±


    The white table was cluttered with empty bottles and a few drained cups of coffee which smelled suspiciously like whisky.


    ¡°Yes contestant,¡± the robot replied, it¡¯s eerie blue smile lighting up as it spoke. ¡°Your anecdote is humorous. Ha ha. Ha ha.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­ thanks 3PO, I¡¯m glad that someone appreciates my stories.¡± He said wistfully.


    John was unsure of how long he¡¯d been chatting to the robot in the unusually white greenroom, but it had to have been at least an hour or two. He¡¯d practically forgotten why he was even there.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have any food do you? Chips and dip would be a life saver right about now.¡±


    ¡°This unit is unsure as to the nature of these chips and dips; however, I would be happy to enquire about it and have them prepared for next time, contestant.¡±


    ¡°Next time? You mean I¡¯m coming back here?¡±


    ¡°It is a possibility. Battle Royale has a rich history of post-round interviewing as well as interviews pertaining to the completion of specific events.¡±


    John sighed, rubbing his palm firmly across his forehead.


    ¡°Oh yeah, I have to go on live intergalactic TV to suck some alien¡¯s tentacle shaped dick so they don¡¯t flay me for the entertainment of their savage viewership. Hooray.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit contestant,¡± the robot replied.


    Giving 3PO a deadpan stare, he shook his head and took a swig from a nearby bottle of cheap, unbranded beer. It wasn¡¯t much, but he couldn¡¯t complain after he¡¯d spent the past few days fighting for his life in the arena.


    DING.


    Looking around a little too quickly and almost falling from his chair, John saw a blurred green light hovering over the side of the far wall.


    With a slick, whooshing sound, a panel slid upwards revealing a lit corridor leading out of the room.


    ¡°I guess it¡¯s time then,¡± he said, staggering to his feet and clasping a bottle of half-drunk whisky in his hand. ¡°Pray for me 3PO.¡±


    ¡°This unit is detecting unusually high levels of intoxication in the contestant. Perhaps making the drinks Irish was an error.¡±


    ¡°Making drinks Irish is never an error,¡± John smiled coyly. ¡°It¡¯s called liquid courage for a reason. If these alien fucks want to parade me around like a show pony then I see no reason not to take a stallion sized dump on their kitchen table¡­ if you catch my drift.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid this unit does not catch your drift contestant,¡± the robot replied, ¡°please do not defecate in front of a live studio audience.¡±


    John¡¯s smile widened; a fire alighted in his eyes as he turned towards the beckoning corridor.


    ¡°Contestant, are you going to defecate on live TV? Contestant, this unit cannot allow such antics. CONTESTANT!¡±

 Chapter 32 – Momentous Occasion

    ¡°Don¡¯t go into the light,¡± John chuckled to himself as he did the exact opposite and staggered down the bright corridor.


    The light was blinding, and at the end of it he was going to arrive in a TV studio ¨C or at least the alien equivalent to one.


    I wonder what alien TV studios look like; he thought. There¡¯s no way they use cameras, maybe they use hologram projectors instead? I just hope they don¡¯t probe me.


    As he reached the end of the corridor, his wandering thoughts making his head spin, he came out into a completely white room. Somehow, this one was even whiter than the greenroom.


    The walls, floor and ceiling seemed to be made of light itself. It was eerie and for a moment he wondered if he was about to ascend to heaven.


    Warning:


    Card powers nullified.


    Instruction:


    Step onto the platform.


    Words floated in his vision, just like the time he¡¯d pulled the lever which sent him to post-invasion Australia.


    Card powers nullified? Well, there goes my plan to shoot up the place, he thought and sighed deeply before stepping onto the platform as directed.


    As soon as his feet touched the designated area the lights disappeared and he was surrounded by darkness, it was like staring into the abyss.


    Then, thin lines of floating green text began to circle around him. He couldn¡¯t make out the language, the characters were unfamiliar. However, something about the way they moved reminded him of computer code.


    Swirling and whirring around him, his eyes couldn¡¯t help but try to follow them. That was a mistake. In his inebriated state, attempting to follow the circling code made his head spin and for a moment he thought he might fall over, or vomit.


    ¡°Now folks,¡± the voice of A.J said, though John couldn¡¯t see anything other than the coded abyss. This time it wasn¡¯t in his head. Was he really here? ¡°The moment you¡¯ve all been waiting for. It¡¯s this round¡¯s tournament winner, John Doe!¡±


    Screams erupted and John¡¯s head felt like it might explode at any moment. Then, as suddenly as it came, the abyss disappeared and he found himself in a bright room, standing behind a podium.


    Fuchsia, neon fuchsia and deep purple trimming appeared before his eyes. His podium was painted red, white and blue, a stark contrast to the vibrant, cyberpunk colours of the rest of the studio. Ironic that colours thought to represent freedom were being used for him whilst he fought in a game of tyranny.


    His eyes burned momentarily as he looked around at the live studio audience full of weird looking aliens, the likes of which were beyond even his wildest imagination.


    Taking centre stage was a man with crimson skin, a forked tail, and horns holding a thin microphone as long as a staff. He was dressed in a well fitted white suit trimmed with golden embroidery. It stood out quite well against the neon lights that surrounded the stage.


    ¡°John, my dear, welcome to the show!¡± The man spoke with A.J¡¯s voice, and only one thought popped into John¡¯s mind.


    The Jovial Announcer is a Tiefling!


    Cheers and applause erupted from the crowd as A.J smiled a handsome smile which showed off his immaculately white teeth.


    ¡°It is wonderful to finally meet face to face, my dear,¡± he said, draping a surprisingly strong arm over John¡¯s shoulder as he leant easily on the podium. ¡°Can I tell you a secret John? You¡¯ve just popped my cherry,¡± he winked flirtatiously before continuing. ¡°That¡¯s right, my dear, you¡¯re the first human I¡¯ve ever spoken to in the flesh. What a momentous occasion this is. Isn¡¯t that right, folks?¡±


    The crowd cheered again, some of the more rambunctious ones throwing in a few whistles for good measure.


    ¡°Now, how about you and I get a little better acquainted,¡± his easy smile sent a tense shiver down John¡¯s spine. ¡°How does it feel to be the first human winner in history?¡±


    ¡°The¡­ what?¡± John replied, dumbfounded.


    ¡°Why the first human winner in history of course! My dear boy, this tournament was the first competition held since your humble planet had the fair fortune to be welcomed into the system. You won it ¨C congratulations by the way ¨C so, tell me, how does it feel?¡±


    ¡°How does it feel?¡± John repeated, ¡°how does it feel?¡± He said again, sounding out each of the disgusting words through gritted teeth, each syllable serving to stoke the fires churning in the pit of his stomach.


    ¡°It feels like a bunch of psychotic assholes plucked my entire planet out of some kind of lucky dip and plunged the whole world into chaos.


    ¡°It feels like years since I was torn away from my wife, who¡¯s probably dead, to fight other humans for your twisted idea of entertainment. A wife who I didn¡¯t even get to mourn because your crappy system stripped me of that ability.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    ¡°It feels like I¡¯ve just murdered a bunch of people who could have been my neighbours only yesterday. But mostly¡­ mostly it feels like this momentous occasion you¡¯re so happy about is a complete farce because as soon as you¡¯re done parading me around I¡¯ll be sent straight back to Earth to fight and probably die so that you people can keep having more momentous occasions to swoon over. The whole idea of it makes me sick. You make me sick, you walking copyright infringement.¡±


    Stunned silence filled the room but A.J kept smiling. If anything his grin grew even wider as his eyes flashed dangerously at John and his forked tail twitched.


    ¡°My dear boy¡­ what a marvellous answer!¡± He replied throwing his hands around theatrically as he gestured for the compliant audience to applaud once more. ¡°Oh, my heart aches for you and your kind. The tragedy, the strife, the agonising heartbreak. Your story has it all. In fact, if you don¡¯t mind my saying so, there¡¯s just one thing you¡¯re missing to complete the perfect ensemble.¡±


    A.J paused for a moment as the audience grew deathly silent, hanging on his every word. John gritted his teeth; this was the part where they pulled back the curtain to reveal Truffle dangling over a vat of acid¡­ or something.


    How he wished he had access to his guns.


    ¡°You¡¯re missing¡­¡± he said, drawing out every word like he was announcing the winner of American Idol. ¡°¡­A love interest.¡±


    John blinked and felt his jaw slacken slightly.


    ¡°What?¡± He asked.


    ¡°A love interest, John my dear, have all the explosions made you hard of hearing? Your story is missing a love interest and I have the perfect match for you.¡± A.J enunciated the last few words with pauses between each of them as he prodded John¡¯s nose teasingly.


    John swatted his hand away irritably but it only served to cause his tormentor¡¯s grin to widen, showing sharp fangs which hid beyond his plump lips.


    With a glare that could burn holes into walls, John tried to look anywhere other than A.J¡¯s gaze. Scanning the crowd, then the unoccupied portions of the studio, he eventually settled on glaring at a well-dressed triceratops who was stood off slightly to the side.


    At first he wondered if it was Buck, but though his attire was similar, his stature was not. This dinosaur was much thinner, more refined if anything. He wore a checkered suit and a black fedora with a red band.


    He was also mouthing something to John.


    Focusing hard, John managed to make out a few broken words from the dinosaur: ¡°play along¡­ show¡­ popularity¡±


    It didn¡¯t take much for John to piece together what the well-dressed dinosaur was trying to tell him. He obviously thought that John should play up to the audience and put on a show. Though he was loath to admit it, there was logic in that piece of advice.


    Perhaps he could try to beat A.J at his own game. There would be a certain¡­ satisfaction in that. Not the same kind of satisfaction as executing him on live television, but his card powers had been nullified so he¡¯d have to make do.


    ¡°Hello? Earth to John¡­¡± A.J said, rapping his fist on the distracted contestant¡¯s skull much to the glee of the audience. ¡°Are you listening to me? Is this what they call the PSTD¡¯s you Earthlings are so prone to catching?¡±


    ¡°Sorry, were you still speaking?¡± John replied, ¡°the sound of your voice is like nails on a chalkboard and I was never a good student.¡±


    The crowd laughed even harder, though John wasn¡¯t sure why. It wasn¡¯t even a good joke. Comedy had never been his strong suit.


    ¡°Oh, it makes jokes,¡± A.J said, his voice still a picture of joviality. ¡°I think I preferred the anger; you were much better at it. Anyway, as I was saying, you need a love interest to round out your tale of woe and I have the perfect match.¡±


    ¡°Oh great,¡± John replied, ¡°what¡¯s it going to be, a slug monster? My dead grandma? Please, dear god don¡¯t tell me it¡¯s you!¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d be lucky to have me,¡± A.J said, ¡°but alas no, it¡¯s someone you know rather well. I¡¯ll tell you what my dear, I¡¯ll give you a little clue. There¡¯s an Earthen saying that goes; you always hurt the one you love.¡±


    The audience gasped and chattering broke out amongst them, they had obviously come to the same conclusion as John and if he was right, there was no chance of her becoming his new love interest.


    ¡°Give a round of applause for our new guest, folks!¡± A.J squealed in delight as bright spotlight lit up the opposite side of the stage to John.


    A blood splattered podium rose up from beneath the floor and in an overly dramatic puff of smoke Joanna appeared, looking dazed and overwhelmed.


    John knew the feeling.


    ¡°Please give a warm welcome to this year¡¯s runner up. She¡¯s still the favourite to win, the woman who stole our hearts through brutal and bloody murder, Joanna99!¡±


    The crowd¡¯s cheers grew in fervour and echoed around the room, a cacophony of joy and elation. Meanwhile, John took in a deep breath and took a moment to peer back at the odd dinosaur who had helped him.


    Sparing a glance, the suit-wearing triceratops flashed him a quick thumbs up from underneath crossed arms. However, aside from that momentary exchange, his eyes were firmly fixed on Joanna.


    ¡°Welcome to the show Joanna,¡± A,J said, dancing across the stage to shove his thin microphone in her face. ¡°It is an honour to finally meet you.¡±


    ¡°Fuck off twinkle toes,¡± she snapped, holding her hand above her brow to block out the obscene amount of light directed onto the stage.


    ¡°Ooh, I do love a feisty woman,¡± A.J said flamboyantly.


    ¡°Who in the damn hell are you?¡± She said, smacking his microphone out of his hand. ¡°What the hell is going on? One minute I was dead, or about to be, the next a robot is serving me coffee and now I¡¯m¡­ what, on a talk show? Is this some kind of joke?¡±


    John smiled to himself, enjoying her outrage. It certainly echoed his own and hopefully with her in the room there would be less time to focus on him.


    ¡°Yes, that just about sums it up,¡± A.J said, gingerly reaching for his microphone. ¡°Don¡¯t fret though darling, you¡¯re in good company. Why don¡¯t you cast those pretty little eyes over there?¡± He pointed towards me and I felt a burning heat wash over me as a spotlight lit up my podium.


    ¡°John?¡± She said quietly.


    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± A.J sang, ¡°John, my dear, do you have anything you wish to say to the lady?¡±


    I paused, unsure what to say at first. I¡¯d just killed her, or at least nearly killed her. A.J stared at me expectantly, the crowd was completely silent. So I said the first thing that popped into my head: ¡°you owe me two cards.¡±


    Joanna looked a little taken aback, she looked away, unable to meet my gaze and seemed to find the watching eyes of the well-dressed dinosaur.


    Does she know him? John wondered as he watched her furrowed brow.


    The dinosaur mouthed something to her and she nodded, ever so slightly.


    ¡°Come and get them then,¡±¡± Joanna said and the quiet sound of oohs bounced around the room.


    ¡°What a rivalry the two of you have,¡± A.J cooed. ¡°Not quite the romance I had in mind but everyone loves an enemies to lovers trope, don¡¯t they folks?¡± The audience laughed and he waited a moment for them become quiet again. ¡°Well then, now that the introductions are out of the way, why don¡¯t we get on with tonight¡¯s main segment¡­ that¡¯s right, it¡¯s question time!


    ¡°Shall we start with you John, my dear?¡± he said, a vicious smile curling on his lips. ¡°This is a question from CEO Jo Ren, leader of the Jellyfish collective, though you might know him better as the father of Ka Ren, the manager you so mercilessly slaughtered in the first round. I can¡¯t wait to see how this plays out!¡±

 Chapter 33 – Question Time

    Truffle sat on the opposite side of the sofa to where he¡¯d woken, struggling to curl up on a plump pillow in his new form. He was worried about John, yes he¡¯d won and that was fantastic, but he wasn¡¯t the type of man to do well on a talk show.


    John was many things, but charismatic wasn¡¯t one of them.


    Truffle had woken mid-finale on a thoroughly soiled sofa cushion, gunk and black ooze clinging to his flesh. It stank, in fact it stank so much that even he, a pig, couldn¡¯t stand the smell.


    Kesh shook her head playfully at him as she watched from a chair a few feet away.


    ¡°I think I had an accident,¡± Truffle moaned softly.


    ¡°No accident, evolution,¡± Kesh replied, a slight smile tugging on her lips.


    ¡°Evolution? Am I turning into one of you?¡±


    ¡°Possibly, you grow, you excrete weakness, you¡­ lay in it.¡±


    Jumping up, Truffle moved away from the gunk, ruffling his snout. He felt taller.


    ¡°Come, you wash.¡±


    Kesh escorted him to the nearby bathroom and scrubbed his skin with a harsh, soapy brush. Truffle had never liked baths in the old world, but at least Mistress Anne was gentle.


    Bathwater turned black almost immediately, emitting a diluted version of the same foul odour. Four fresh baths later, once Truffle was finally clean, Kesh removed a steamy mirror from the wall, wiping it as she lowered it to the ground.


    Truffle gazed at himself for a long moment. He looked the same, but not. He was still pink with black spots; he still had the most handsome face in the land and his eyes were still piercing enough for someone to get lost in. He was just¡­ bigger.


    He was taller too, but he seemed more¡­ sculpted. Like if Playboy wanted a model pig with cut abs and bulging muscles, they¡¯d have to choose him. He was kinda ripped.


    After his bath, the two returned to the seating area to find that not only was John¡¯s fight over, but that he was the winner. Truffle was ecstatic, but this ecstasy dulled when Kesh explained that his boss would be a guest on the after-match talk show. John was many things, but he was not charismatic.


    They watched the show all the way up until Joanna had been welcomed onto the set and then they talked during the adverts.


    ¡°That horned man is funny,¡± Truffle said, ¡°he keeps calling Boss, John my dear¡­ get it? Because his player name is John Doe?¡±


    Kesh rolled her eyes.


    ¡°Human need be careful,¡± she replied ignoring him.


    ¡°¡­And a doe is a female deer?¡± He continued, unsure as to why she didn¡¯t find it as amusing as he did.


    ¡°Getting audience on side good tactic, but also fine line,¡± she continued without so much as an acknowledgement to Truffle. ¡°Impressing corporations, much better. Less likely to be killed by viewers, opinions no matter.¡±


    ¡°But don¡¯t the audience ratings and views help the corporations to decide who to sponsor?¡± Truffle asked.


    ¡°In manner of speaker. More complicated than ratings though.¡±


    ¡°Well aren¡¯t you going to sponsor us anyway?¡± Truffle said, ¡°so it doesn¡¯t really matter if no one else wants John, because he¡¯s going with you guys¡­ he¡¯s going with me.¡±


    ¡°We sponsor you, little one. Human useful, he keep you alive, but ultimately he not priority. Probably expensive too.¡±


    Truffle glared at the orc but she looked unconcerned. Sitting in her usual warrior¡¯s pose with crossed arms and a permanent scowl.


    ¡°I demand that you sponsor John as well, otherwise¡­ otherwise I won¡¯t work with you,¡± Truffle said, throwing his head off to one side.


    ¡°You no get choice in who sponsor you,¡± Kesh replied stoically. ¡°Besides, not done deal yet. Lobbying to do, bids to make. Might not win.¡±


    ¡°Even if you do win I¡¯ll just do the opposite of what you tell me. I don¡¯t work with people who don¡¯t like the boss.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. You belong with us. We no leave family. We help even if you don¡¯t want it.¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± he responded. ¡°We don¡¯t leave family behind. John is family. The only family I have left ¨C well, apart from Mistress Anne of course, but we haven¡¯t found her yet.¡± He added hastily.


    ¡°Can only afford sponsor one contestant,¡± Kesh sighed, her expression softening slightly. ¡°But will ask higher ups for help for human. Best I can do.¡±


    Truffle looked at her and nodded his appreciation.


    ***


    John gazed out across the animated audience as the stage morphed before his eyes, turning into a more relaxed setting.


    Neon pink still dominated the colour scheme, but the podiums were replaced by armchairs and a coffee table.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Now it looks like a talk show, John thought as he watched the transformation.


    ¡°Great first half,¡± A.J said, striding over with a hastily flung towel draped over his shoulder. ¡°You two really know how to put on a show, my ratings are going to go through the roof after this!¡±


    ¡°Your ratings?¡± John asked, shaking his head.


    Joanna had wandered off to the side and was whispering conspiratorially with the triceratops. John eyed her cautiously, something was going on between the two of them and whatever it was, it couldn¡¯t be good.


    ¡°¡­And thanks to you I¡¯ll be asked to host all the biggest shows, assuming the second half is as splendid as the first was, that is,¡± A.J continued, though John only caught the end of what he was saying.


    ¡°Who¡¯s that dinosaur talking to Joanna?¡±


    ¡°Jealous are we?¡± A.J winked, ¡°I knew it, I can spot sexual tension a mile away, one of my more¡­ useful talents. That¡¯s her manager, John my dear. I doubt he¡¯s a rival for her heart, I¡¯m not getting that tingling feeling I get when I see the two of you together and my senses are never wrong.¡±


    ¡°Her manager?¡± John replied, he¡¯d barely heard anything else the horned host had said. ¡°Can I bring my manager here?¡±


    ¡°Well you could have, if you¡¯d have asked before the show. What did you think the greenroom was for?¡± A.J replied and then sniffed loudly, ¡°Oh¡­ well I guess inebriation is also an adequate use of our facilities. Not like you¡¯ll get much time for that sort of thing once you¡¯re back in the game.¡±


    ¡°Which will be when exactly?¡± John asked, finally tearing his gaze from the conspirators whispering in the corner.


    ¡°Soon, my dear, soon,¡± A.J said.


    ¡°We¡¯re live in ten, nine, eight,¡± someone shouted from out of view.


    ¡°Looks like that¡¯s our queue,¡± A.J smiled, ¡°take your places people!¡±


    ***


    ¡°Welcome back, folks!¡± A.J announced adopting his larger-than-life persona once more as he strutted around the stage. ¡°As promised, it¡¯s question time and we have a doozy of a guest joining us here tonight. All the way, via hologram, from the Jellyfish Collective¡¯s battle cruiser, it¡¯s CEO Jo Ren!¡±


    The audience erupted into vapid cheering as a blueish hue flickered atop the coffee table. When it finally settled down a strange looking creature was revealed. It looked like an octopus had miraculously grown a torso and legs. Tentacles sprouted from the place where his mouth should have been and his eyes were as black as the night.


    That¡¯s not a jellyfish, John thought with a furrowed brow as the creature stroked one of its tentacles regally and settled down into a holographic armchair, opposite the two contestants.


    A.J joined them, crossing one leg over the other as he took his place in the middle.


    ¡°Welcome, honoured Jo Ren, it¡¯s so good to see you,¡± he said, a glimmer lighting up his devilish eyes. ¡°I heard that the Jellyfish Collective had a whopping 250% profit increase this solar term, most impressive.¡±


    ¡°Yes, it has been a fortuitous season for us,¡± Jo Ren said, or rather thought. Though his face tentacles twitched slightly, though noise seemed to escape his face, the sound was definitely not in John¡¯s head, it felt mechanical, like an odd twinge at the back of John¡¯s mind told him it was fake. He had no doubt that this was a creature that communicated with thought and not words, yet words were what he was hearing. Was this the system¡¯s doing? The same thing that allowed him to hear Truffle¡¯s squeals as English.


    ¡°Thank you for coming tonight on such short notice,¡± A.J continued, seemingly unphased by the horrid feeling that itched at the back of John¡¯s brain. Could he not feel it? ¡°I simply had to make you our star guest of the evening after what transpired in the first round. How is Ka Ren?¡±


    ¡°His mind will take some healing, but he will recover. It was not his first time commanding an avatar, nor will it be his last.¡± Jo Ren¡¯s black eyes washed over John and Joanna threateningly. ¡°Your barbaric methods of slaughter were¡­ interesting. Now that I understand human battle, perhaps we shall employ some barbarism of our own in the coming rounds. Your kind seems to enjoy playing with fire.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s not get ahead of ourselves,¡± A.J said hastily, a flash of concern in his eyes. ¡°We don¡¯t want to give away the game to our contestants here. This is still the first round for them after all and I¡¯m sure we¡¯d all appreciate keeping future events a surprise lest we offer up an unfair advantage.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± Jo Ren replied cordially, ¡°forgive me, I was getting ahead of myself. It is so easy to forget that, as a member of the council, I am privy to information that is exclusive to showrunners.¡±


    Talk about a boastful attitude, what an asshat, John thought.


    ¡°Please, think nothing of it,¡± A.J said, ¡°now, would you like to ask our contestants some questions?¡±


    Jo Ren¡¯s eyes washed over John once more and if it wasn¡¯t for his lack of lips, John would have been certain that he was grinning.


    ¡°I have but one,¡± he said, ¡°how could a lowly member of a brand new, and lesser, race slay one as fearsome as Ka Ren? Why, if I did not know better I¡¯d accuse the two of you of foul play.¡±


    John¡¯s eyes narrowed as he considered the octopus. Movies had prepared him for the eventuality of meeting supremacist aliens, but to have one so blatantly spout his doctrine on live television, with no negative reaction from the audience? It made his skin crawl.


    ¡°Perhaps we¡¯re not as inferior as you thought,¡± he replied in a measured tone. ¡°From what I¡¯ve gathered, this is just the beginning of your little game show, keep watching. You¡¯ll see what the human race can do. Calamari is one of my favourite foods.¡±


    Jo Ren baulked, sitting forward in his armchair and clenching his fists. Gasps erupted from the audience and A.J seemed to be enjoying every minute of it. John looked at the audience, egged on by their outrage. It felt good to do something to them, even if it was probably just his spiteful ego talking. He continued.


    ¡°It¡¯s a shame that your kind are too scared to come down to our planet and join in. Though I guess you probably hide in your avatars because on Earth you¡¯d be like¡­ what¡¯s that saying? Fish out of water? It seems to me that you¡¯re upset because we didn¡¯t let your son¡¯s avatar kill us. This might just be a game to you but real people are dying down there.¡± He stood up, pointing his finger at the Jo Ren¡¯s holographic face, his voice getting hotter, angrier. ¡°Listen up you octo-fuck. I¡¯m gonna win this stupid game and then I¡¯m coming for you. You, your coward of a son, and the rest of the council.¡±


    Breathing heavily, John sat back down. Anger had exploded out of him; he could barely control it. He¡¯d always been an impulsive, emotional drunk. Though his skills should have blocked that, surely. Idiot! He thought, knowing he was going to regret this later. Making an enemy of this guy was a bad move and he knew it. Though at the same time, it sure was satisfying.


    Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Joanna, she was staring at him, mouth agape. She looked pleased with him, shocked, but pleased. He turned away from her, she still needed to die and the last thing he wanted was to make that harder for him. No hesitation, that was what she¡¯d said in the final.


    ¡°The gall!¡± Jo Ren exclaimed, ¡°You dare challenge me? Let me gift you a word of wisdom, be careful not to confuse confidence with ability, human. There will be plenty of chances for my people to venture to your decrepit cesspit of a plant later. When that day comes, we¡¯ll see who¡¯s might reigns triumphant.¡±


    Without waiting for a response, Jo Ren¡¯s hologram disappeared and there was silence in the studio. Out of the corner of John¡¯s eye he saw a smile on the dinosaur¡¯s face as he gleefully waited on the sidelines.


    ¡°Well, that was quite something,¡± A.J proclaimed, jumping up from his seat. ¡°Merely a single question in and you declared war on one of the most powerful races in the cosmos. How exquisite! Though I must ask John, my dear, what exactly is a calamari?¡±

 Chapter 34 – Arms Dealer

    The rest of the talk show was pretty uneventful. A.J asked questions, made bad jokes and John did his best to appear calm and collected as he tried to dodge them.


    Eventually he began to feel like he might actually be good at it. Being part of an alien television show filled with flamboyancy and a wretched trivialisation of the genocide of the human race made him feel ill. However, if it would give him an advantage in Battle Royale then he owed it to himself to take it.  He owed it to Anne.


    As the show finally began drawing to a close A.J announced the one thing John had been desperately waiting for: the awarding of his prize.


    A new card, a new power, one step closer to meeting the quota which would grant him access through the next torii gate. It was the only reason he¡¯d entered the tournament.


    ¡°Hasn¡¯t this show been just divine folks?¡± A.J asked the buzzing, smiling audience. ¡°It has truly been my pleasure to host such entertaining guests. However, sadly, our time together is drawing to a close. Which means there is but one last thing I have to do.¡±


    A.J strolled towards John; arms outstretched as his horns twinkled in the neon glow which lit the stage in fuchsia pink. Reaching into his inside jacket pocket, he produced a small box.


    Dropping dramatically to one knee, he presented the box to John, opening it as if he was about to propose. John had to resist the urge to kick the flamboyant presenter in the face.


    ¡°John, my dear,¡± he began, ¡°on behalf of the tournament organisers, our lovely studio audience, the IPSC and of course, myself, I offer you this card. May it be a reminder of our wonderful evening together and serve you well in the battles to come.¡±


    A glittering golden card sat regally on a purple cushion within the box. John stared at it hungrily and reached out, grasping it like a crack addict. This card would put him one step closer to survival, to power, and to fulfilling the promise he had made to his wife as she sacrificed her life for his.


    Perhaps one day he¡¯d be strong enough to fight back against the alien invaders. Perhaps this card would be a stepping stone towards that.


    However, right now, it was a simple necessity to his continued survival.


    Snatching the card, he shoved it into his chest before anyone could take it away from him. A new notification popped up in his vision, a text screen floating in front of him as if he was in a video game.


    Card Acquired:


    Arms Dealer:


    This card grants you access to black market ammunition.


    Now that¡¯s more like it! He thought, supressing the urge to laugh out loud.


    A card which gave him access to new ammo would be useful. He couldn¡¯t wait to find out exactly what ammunition would be made available to him, and how to access it.


    Instinctively he reached inwardly for his revolvers but his power laid dormant. It had been blocked whilst he was on the show. One more reason to get back to Earth as quickly as possible.


    He¡¯d spent days on the arena ship, fighting, bleeding, scrabbling for any means of surviving the next round. Now it was almost time to return to Earth, find his last card and ascend to the next round.


    ¡°You¡¯re positively glowing John, my dear,¡± A.J crooned. ¡°Are you going to share the nature of your new card with the class?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he replied stoically, ¡°I think it¡¯d be better to preserve the mystery. But keep watching me and you¡¯ll see it in action soon enough.¡±


    ¡°Ooh, how tantalising. You¡¯re like a carrot on a stick and I¡¯m positively neighing in anticipation.¡±


    The crowd laughed and A.J flashed them an easy smile. He was a born entertainer, navigating the complex world of deceptive interaction like a concert pianist, fingers dancing expertly across the keys.


    ¡°I, for one,¡± Joanna began, ¡°can¡¯t wait to see what your new card can do John Doe. Since you¡¯ve failed to kill me properly, I guess our little dance of death will get to continue for a while longer.¡± She winked and blew him an exaggerated kiss to the amusement of the crowd. Just off stage the mysterious dinosaur nodded his approval.


    He told her to say that.


    John glanced towards her and shrugged.


    ¡°Next time we meet, no amount of interference will stop me from killing you,¡± John said, though he looked directly at her manager as he said it. He¡¯d worked it out, he didn¡¯t know how he knew, but he knew that she¡¯d survived because of the dinosaur. Somehow.


    ¡°Inter-¡± she began, looking to her dinosaur who shook his head. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll look forward it then,¡± she spoke the words, but something about her had changed. She didn¡¯t sound quite as unhinged as before, she sounded confused, even a little dejected. John almost felt sorry for her.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Marvelous,¡± A.J crooned. ¡°Star crossed lovers fighting to the death in a tragic game that threatens to tear them apart. Oh, my heart bleeds!¡±


    ¡°Ha! I¡¯ll miss this,¡± Joanna smiled sinisterly, changing again at the flip of a coin. ¡°I will come and find you John, I still need two more cards after all. That pig of yours has a card too doesn¡¯t he? I do love a good bacon sandwich.¡±


    ¡°The next time I see you,¡± John replied icily. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you for good.¡±


    ¡°You could at least offer to buy me dinner first,¡± she said teasingly, ¡°but perhaps I¡¯ll let you skip the foreplay, just make sure to find me.¡±


    She winked and suddenly a bright light enveloped her, warping her body before she disappeared from the stage. John was left confused and irritated. Her personality seemed to shift faster than an F1 driver. It was hard to keep up with and he honestly couldn¡¯t even tell if he hated her anymore. He felt sorry for her more than anything. She needed to die, because she was dangerous. To deserved to die because of the actions she had taken. Her manager was dangerous too.


    John felt like there was more going on behind the scenes, but he¡¯d probably never get to find out what that was. He sighed aloud. He¡¯d kill her eventually, but he was tired and at that moment he just hoped he didn¡¯t have to deal with her again for a while. Keeping up with her particular brand of lunacy was exhausting.


    ¡°I do love a challenge,¡± A.J said, ¡°I can¡¯t wait to see what happens to these star-crossed lovers once they get back planet side. Sadly thought, that¡¯s all we¡¯ve got time for. Until next time, folks.¡±


    ¡°We are not lovers!¡± John protested but his words never reached the ears of the audience, or the presenter.


    In a flash of purple light he too disappeared from the stage.


    ***


    In a flash of light Joanna appeared in the familiar setting of her manager¡¯s bar. He flashed her a toothy smile as he polished glasses behind the wooden counter.


    ¡°How did you get here before I did?¡± She asked, pulling up a stool which scraped on the wooden floorboards.


    ¡°Employee perks,¡± he replied, ¡°your views have gone through the roof. You put on quite the show, allow me to extend my gratitude.¡±


    Pulling a small, metal disk from his pocket, he slid it across the bar to her. She caught it gracefully and flipped it agility between her fingers. It seemed to be a poker chip; a silver disk with a black middle and odd, alien markings decorating the rim.


    ¡°I love to gamble as much as the next girl but I don¡¯t think there are any casinos left on Earth,¡± she said, gazing boredly at the disk as she twirled it between her fingers.


    ¡°Perhaps not in this round,¡± Barnabus replied, ¡°but the nature of this chip is not just for gambling. Why don¡¯t you try placing it in the kiosk?¡±


    Rolling her eyes, Joanna stood up and mooched towards the blinking machine in the corner. She desired nothing more than a good night¡¯s rest; the past few days had been difficult. But her manager hadn¡¯t steered her wrong so far so she figured that she owed him at least a modicum of obedience.


    Stepping up to the machine she saw a small coin slot in the lower corner, as if it was an arcade game. With a sigh, she placed the chip into the hole and then put her palm on the reader as she¡¯d been instructed to do the first time she¡¯d used one.


    Her mind interfaced with the machine and she found herself in the online store¡¯s navigation screen. Just like before, she saw options for clothing, cards, supplies and all the usual stuff you¡¯d expect from an in-game store.


    ¡°Looks like the DLC still hasn¡¯t come out,¡± she said facetiously.


    Barnabus didn¡¯t reply, he didn¡¯t have to. A moment later a new screen popped up in her view announcing something that made her grin from ear to ear.


    New Card(s) Available:


    You have inserted a managerial access chip. This grants the user access to a full deck of cards or as many as required for the continued survival of the Battle Royale employee.


    As you already possess (two) cards, this chip will only grant access to (two) cards to complete your deck. Please enter your emergency access code now:


    ¡°Barnabus,¡± Joanna began, ¡°what the hell is this?¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s just say that I¡¯m going all in on you,¡± he said, his voice like a hot knife slicing through butter.


    ¡°But there are still four or five days left; I could find the cards myself.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps you should check again,¡± he said.


    With a frown, she pulled up her personal interface which overlapped the kiosk.


    Countdown: 1 day remaining.


    ¡°But¡­ how?¡± She asked, her heart bouncing in her chest as she saw the lack of time.


    ¡°It¡¯s your penalty I¡¯m afraid,¡± Barnabus replied. ¡°I committed quite the taboo by rigging the contest and saving your life. The system noticed and this was the consequence. Two days for two seconds, quite the trade off.¡±


    ¡°How am I supposed to find the torii gate in such a short time?¡±


    ¡°Forget that now, use the chip. The rest can wait.¡±


    ¡°This chip¡­ it must be cheating too.¡±


    ¡°Of course it is,¡± he said nonchalantly, ¡°but nobody wins playing by the rules. This is an employee chip, given to those of us enslaved by the council for use in emergencies only. I¡¯d say that my client being deprived of a chance of progressing to the next round constitutes as an emergency, wouldn¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Not really,¡± she replied, taking a moment to sigh deeply before setting her jaw, ¡°but I guess it wouldn¡¯t be wise to look a gift dinosaur in the mouth.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s my girl,¡± he smiled. ¡°Oh and one other thing, my benefactor arranged this glitch in the system in return for a single favour.¡±


    ¡°Benefactor? Is that how you saved me in the finale?¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t need to worry about it too much, just do as I ask and it¡¯ll all work out. The final battle is upon us and I need you to complete a little task for me.¡± He paused for a moment as Joanna glared at him, narrowing her eyes in sceptical anticipation, ¡°I need you to kill John Doe, not just kill him, but completely destroy his spirit. This is a game show after all and my benefactor has a lot of money riding on this playing out in his favour. After he spouted off on live television they¡¯re rather upset with him.¡±


    Joanna nodded, realisation lighting up in her eyes as she understood who this benefactor was. Who they had to be. There was no other explanation, and if she was right then this task might just be the end of her as well, ¡°ok,¡± she said resolutely, but in her mind she was already putting a plan together. Her revenge had to be achieved, no matter the cost.


    I am salvation. I am revenge.


    Barnabus smiled just as the door to his bar swung open. Two contestants stumbled in. One, a man holding a crossbow, looked dazed. Holding onto his shoulder was a bedraggled and bleeding woman. Her leg was missing and it dripped rhythmically onto the floor, staining the wood. In her eyes was a steely expression, one of disgust and pure hatred. She was dressed in an old fashioned and dirty 1920¡¯s style dress.


    ¡°Come on in,¡± Barnabus said. ¡°Joanna, meet your new party members. I think the three of you have a mutual interest.¡±

 Chapter 35 – Dragon’s Breath

    4 days remaining


    Views: 85 billion


    Likes: 21 million


    Follows: 984,529


    John stepped out of the beam of light into the familiar setting of The Outback Sleep Shack to find Truffle snorting loudly as he scarfed down a bowl of unidentified meat chunks.


    Buck looked up from the glass he was polishing, with a rag so dirty it had turned from white to dark brown, as the tired cowboy stepped into the room.


    ¡°Sounds like you¡¯ve been busy,¡± he remarked sullenly, ¡°Truffle here¡¯s been telling me all about your big upset on the intergalactic stage. A human beating all those avatars for the top spot. Quite the feat indeed.¡±


    ¡°Quit pretending like you weren¡¯t watching the entire thing from your menu TV, Buck,¡± John replied casually as he pulled up a stool.


    ¡°Boss!¡± Truffle squealed, looking up from his meal, meat juices dripping from his snout, ¡°you¡¯re back, you¡¯re back! It feels like I haven¡¯t seen you in days.¡±


    Something about Truffle¡¯s turn of phrase worried John and he quickly pulled up his interface screen to check the countdown. If it really had been days, then he might almost be out of time.


    Countdown: 4 days remaining


    He sighed contently and wiped the sweat from his brow. Thankfully, it seemed that he hadn¡¯t been penalised for his participation in the tournament. Four days should be plenty of time to grab his final card and find the torii gate. After all, he¡¯d managed to secure his first three cards in the same time frame.


    ¡°It¡¯s been a long few days, buddy,¡± he said, a little belatedly, in reply to Truffle¡¯s greeting. John scratched the pig behind the ears and then ruffled his head. ¡°Have you gotten bigger?¡±


    ¡°I evolved,¡± Truffle proclaimed proudly. ¡°I¡¯m E rank now, whatever that means, and it¡¯s made me bigger and tougher.¡±


    John knew about his companion¡¯s upgrade to E rank having been there at the time, still he wasn¡¯t expecting the oddly sculpted look it had given the pig. He¡¯d told his wife that there was no such thing as a micro pig and that they all eventually got bigger.


    Who would have thought that it¡¯d take the introduction of the system to prove him right.


    ¡°Harder to kill?¡± He asked.


    ¡°Naturally,¡± Truffle replied, puffing his chest out.


    ¡°Good,¡± John nodded his approval and then turned his attention to Buck. ¡°I need one more card and then I can do this E rank evolution thing too right?¡±


    ¡°Yep, though it¡¯ll be a little different for you than it was for Truffle, having four cards and all.¡±


    ¡°How so?¡±


    ¡°Truffle¡¯s soul devourer is a full stack card which means it¡¯s the only card he can hold in his space. You¡¯ll have four cards which means you¡¯ll trigger a soul card creation first, then you¡¯ll have to find a levelling stone. There should be loads of them in the next round.¡± Buck explained, ¡°I¡¯d love to tell you all the juicy details but I can¡¯t, it¡¯s in my contract. Section 5Z, employees must uphold the integrity of Battle Royale at all times, allowing viewers the pleasure of experiencing the genuine surprise of contestants with regards to levelling, card acquisition and other specified game elements.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you have that memorised,¡± John replied with a slight smirk as he reached over the bar, grabbing a half empty bottle of whisky.


    ¡°Tenants to live by,¡± Buck shrugged, ¡°or die by in my case, breaking those rules could literally cost me my life.¡±


    ¡°So you can¡¯t tell me what this soul card thing is?¡±


    ¡°Nope, all I can say is that it¡¯s a unique card that¡¯ll be created from your own body, experiences, personality and a bunch of other stuff the system chooses to base it on. The cards you¡¯ve been finding were all once a contestant¡¯s soul card created in previous seasons. That¡¯s how they¡¯re created and it¡¯s how the Inter-Planetary System Council has managed to keep this game interesting for so long.¡±


    I thought he couldn¡¯t tell me, John thought but didn¡¯t say anything. The idea that his current cards were created by other contestants sickened him. How many had died in this game over the centuries?


    ¡°Then why is my frontier justice card two revolvers? Those are human inventions.¡±


    ¡°Ha!¡± Buck exclaimed, spitting coffee all over the diner¡¯s countertop. ¡°You think you¡¯re the only species to have invented guns? That¡¯s ridiculous.¡±


    ¡°Wait, so our inventions aren¡¯t unique to this planet?¡±


    ¡°Not in the slightest, at least not your scientific inventions. Art and cultural stuff differs vastly by species.¡±


    ¡°Ok,¡± John said slowly, his head was spinning but he needed to focus and get back on task. He needed to be able to get through the torii gate. It was his top priority. ¡°Can you tell me where I can find my last card?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Buck sighed, placing the unclean glass down on the bar. ¡°Sorry kid, even if I knew for sure I couldn¡¯t just tell you that. But I can tell you where I¡¯d go to look for one. You¡¯re not going to like it though.¡±


    ***


    John tapped his foot irritably; Buck¡¯s news had not been the palatable kind and he just knew that it would plage his dreams when he finally went to bed ¨C an event he longed for. He had four days left, but it was still early in the morning, so early in the morning that most people would still have been fast asleep if the world hadn¡¯t ended.


    Information was power in this game and, at Buck¡¯s request, he¡¯d forced himself to stay awake long enough to watch the highlights reel. It had aired at midnight and it was now more like three or four in the morning, but Buck had been given permission to tape the episode since John and Truffle had been in the tournament.


    He was quite out of the loop having spent the past few days on a space station and out of contact with the rest of humanity, so he was pleasantly surprised that the dinosaur had managed to arrange something so useful for him.


    Still not as useful as cheating in the finales to keep me alive though, he thought bitterly.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to need to make good use of your card, buddy,¡± John said to Truffle, pulling himself from his thoughts. They needed to strategize more and he knew it.


    The pig was perched in front of John on the bar counter. He turned his head, looking at him over his broadened shoulder.


    ¡°You mean I get to fight?¡± He said hopefully.


    ¡°There¡¯s no way I can do this alone,¡± John replied, eyes hard. ¡°We¡¯ve been missing a trick anyway by not using you more. If we want to stay alive we¡¯re going to need to use all the tricks we can right?¡±


    ¡°Yes sir!¡± Truffle squealed, evidently delighted at the prospect of being included in a battle plan.


    Of course, John was no idiot. He¡¯d understood the value of Truffle¡¯s card from the start. He simply didn¡¯t want to put the pig in any unnecessary danger.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Of the few fights Truffle had been part of, he¡¯d nearly fallen to his death, almost gotten blown up and been a hairs breath away from being devoured. John didn¡¯t want that for the pig, Anne would kill him.


    Would have killed him, he thought with a grimace.


    But Buck was right. The game wouldn¡¯t take any prisoners and Truffle was growing more powerful by the day. He¡¯d already levelled up, unlike John. It was the pragmatic and correct choice to use him. Even if it did make John¡¯s stomach churn.


    ¡°We¡¯ll see if we can¡¯t find you some corpses to snack on when we set out later today. You can store up to three at a time right?¡±


    ¡°Yup, and!¡± He squealed as he suddenly remembered, ¡°they last for twenty-four hours now and I can choose one to keep permanently! My soul devourer upgraded when I evolved.¡±


    ¡°Really? We¡¯ll have to make use of that then. Don¡¯t go choosing a permanent power on your own though, we should decide together. I know how impulsive you can be. This is great though, good job buddy.¡± John said, a wiry smile splitting his face, ¡°I wonder what my cards will do when I evolve. Speaking of my card,¡± he turned to Buck, ¡°my newest one says I can get new ammo on the black market. Any idea how that works?¡±


    ¡°Arms dealer?¡± Buck replied, looking suddenly very interested. ¡°I¡¯ve seen that card in previous games. Someone up there must really like you to have given you a prize card that synergises so well with your frontier justice.¡±


    ¡°God?¡± Truffle asked, staring at the ceiling in wonder, but they both ignored him.


    John nodded; he hadn¡¯t considered that the card he was gifted was chosen by someone. Though of course it made sense, everything in Battle Royale was planned out by the show runners and the IPSC.


    ¡°Perhaps we¡¯ll find out when I get sponsored?¡± He shrugged, more interested in the immediate application of his card¡¯s ability.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Buck replied, ¡°as for how to use it, it works directly with the interface you bought. You should be able to see your cards in there right?¡±


    Opening the interface, John navigated to the cards section and mentally selected his new one. He¡¯d tried to do this with his other cards too but usually it just gave the same description as the card itself.


    This time, however, a virtual armoury seemed to open before him. In his mind¡¯s eye he saw his revolvers hovering in front of him. It reminded him of a customisation screen in a video game.


    Welcome to the black market, John Doe.


    The system screen said, hovering above his guns.


    Do you want to activate card: Arms Dealer?


    He mentally asserted yes and a new screen popped up as his guns seemed to disassemble themselves in front of him. The cylinders on his revolvers popped out and he reached out with his mind, feeling his way forward, and mentally spun them.


    There were six slots in each cylinder, just like a real revolver. One of them was lit up whilst the remaining five were blacked out.


    Frontier Justice Ammunition Slots:


    Available: 2/6


    Slots:


    Slot 1 - .38 Special (unremovable)


    Slot 2 - Unassigned


    Would you like to assign a new ammo type to slot: 2?


    John mentally asserted that he would and a list of ammunition appeared in front of him. Most of them were blacked out, but two choices glowed before him and he knew he had a choice to make.


    Available ammunition:


    Dragon¡¯s Breath (cooldown 30 seconds)


    Noxious Standard (cooldown 10 seconds)


    Grinning as he took in the potential his new card had granted him; John took a moment to think about the options laid out before him.


    Noxious bullets could be useful. He had to assume that meant poison of some kind, though even if it made his opponents violently ill that still had its perks. The shorter cooldown was also quite appealing.


    However, he¡¯d seen dragon¡¯s breath shells in action before. It was a fearsome type of shotgun shell that spat out magnesium pellets in an incendiary flame. Assuming that was what the interface meant; it was a mean shell indeed.


    Though he didn¡¯t understand how a revolver which fired .38 Special rounds could also fire a shotgun shell, he didn¡¯t question it. Power was power and with that same logic he should have questioned Joanna¡¯s card allowing her to produce flames or Truffle¡¯s allowing him to gain power from eating people and mobs.


    He¡¯d have to accept that the system had its own rules, no matter how insane they were, and use them to his advantage.


    And dragon¡¯s breath shells were definitely to his advantage. He clicked on them without a second thought.


    Closing down the interface he found himself back in the bar.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take it from that look on your face that you figured it out?¡± Buck asked, a bemused grin plastered onto his face.


    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± John replied, ¡°let¡¯s just say this new ammo has got me all fired up.¡±


    Buck and John exchanged a knowing glance and the dinosaur nodded at him, locking eyes with him.


    ¡°I don¡¯t get it,¡± Truffle said, ¡°what kind of bullets did you get?¡±


    John and Buck shared another conspiratorial glance and John began explaining the ammo to Truffle. As he was doing this, Buck began fiddling with the menu behind the bar. ¡°Let¡¯s watch this recap and then you can get your heads down for a couple of hours before the sun comes up,¡± he said. ¡°Don¡¯t think this will become a regular thing, if you hadn¡¯t been trapped on the stadium ship there¡¯s no way the show runners would have allowed this. As it stands, this is a concession from them because you lost two days during their tournament. You should be grateful.¡±


    John didn¡¯t feel very grateful. This was a nice gesture, but one that was only necessary because they¡¯d invaded his planet and forced him into a death game. The show runners deserved precisely none of his gratitude. He didn¡¯t say that aloud though, he needed all the help he could get.


    Buck fiddled with some wires in the back and the menu flickered, turning into a TV. The two alien presenters lit up the screen, talking animatedly.


    ¡°Welcome back, humble viewers, to another daily recap of Battle Royale Earth!¡± Said Frank the praying mantis. He was wearing the same brown suit as last time and sat next to him was the green orc, Grend.


    ¡°Good show. Lots to see. Death, fire, blood,¡± Grend said, slamming her ham fists on the table.


    ¡°Indeed there is, Grend, indeed there is,¡± Frank replied, his mandibles chittering disconcertingly as he spoke. ¡°We¡¯ve got a lot to get through tonight so without further ado, here are this evening¡¯s highlights.


    The screen flickered and John watched with unsated curiosity as a hooded figure crouched ominously atop a derelict glass building.


    Their armour was completely black, kind of like batman but somehow even more emo. They wore a dark cloak which swayed gently in the breeze, their face completely obscured. John had no idea who this person was, but he was intrigued.


    Far below the hooded figure at street level, a militia camp seemed to have been set up. The street was barricaded on either side with piled up, burnt out cars and other wreckage they¡¯d managed to gather.


    Two men stood atop the cars at either side dressed in a raggedy assortment of makeshift armour and modern clothing. Each man held a ranged weapon as they guarded either side of the camp from intruders.


    In the centre of the camp itself stood a group of patchwork tents as dozens of militia members lolled around, drinking and playing cards.


    A muscular man in an army uniform exited the big tent in the middle and all the other militia members dropped what they were doing, standing to attention.


    That was when the camera panned back to the hooded figure, who produced a bow and took aim. An arrow flew from the bow like a bolt of lightning, striking the muscled man in the dead centre of his chest. His body dropped to the ground in a pool of blood and suddenly the hooded figure was stood over him.


    Was that a teleportation skill? John wondered.


    ¡°Y¡¯all work for me now,¡± the hooded figure said in a husky, yet oddly feminine southern drawl. Then the screen flickered and another clip began.


    A scared-looking man in a hoodie walked through a deserted school. He passed lockers, jittery and quick to point his gun ¨C a Glock of some kind ¨C at every little noise. The breeze itself seemed to startle him.


    Why does this guy seem familiar?


    He turned a corner, entering the gymnasium. Standing at the other side was a huge ogre holding volleyballs with lit fuses sticking out of them. The man cried out. The TV flickered and he was stood over the hulking corpse of the ogre, his hoodie was torn and blood splattered. He was heaving for breath. His hood obscured his face the entire time. Then the screen flickered again.


    A man with a polearm waltzed brazenly into a dark castle.


    ¡°He was on last time,¡± John said, ¡°I remember watching him fight off a horde of zombies.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it tends to be like that,¡± Buck replied, ¡°not many contestants are that interesting in the beginning, but this guy¡­ I can¡¯t wait to see what he does tonight. A few days ago he rode a werewolf through a deserted city whilst vampire spawn chased him. Honestly, I know I¡¯m your guy and all, but this dude knows how to entertain.¡±


    ¡°Did you not watch this when it aired a few hours ago?¡±


    ¡°No, I had to wait for you this time since we were given permission to tape it. This is my first viewing too, now shush and watch.¡±


    John glared at Buck for a short moment, shook his head, then returned to watching the polearm wielding man.


    Shrouded in silver armour, the kind a knight¡¯s errant would wear, he kicked open a pair of old wooden doors inside the creepy castle.


    Outside it was black as night and the moon hung low and crimson in the sky. It looked like some kind of horror flick. The man stepped through the doors and in a voice which wasn¡¯t as deep as John had expected, he called out.


    ¡°I know you¡¯re in here, Dracula. I¡¯m taking that damned card from you whether you like it or not.¡±


    Out of the shadows a tall, cloaked figure emerged.


    Then the menu screen turned to black displaying the word: ¡°redacted¡± and John, Buck, and Truffle were left dumbfounded.


    ¡°What the fuck, Buck?¡± John asked, ¡°I wanted to see that armour dude fight Dracula.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t blame me,¡± he shrugged, but it was clear that he was also disappointed. ¡°Polearm man must have done something the show runners don¡¯t want the rest of you to see. I bet it was really juicy too, usually they let contestants watch if its normal stuff, or at least see the ending like they did with that guy in the school.¡±


    ¡°Now I want to watch it even more,¡± Truffle complained. ¡°We are going to find that guy in the next round!¡±


    ¡°It might be better to stay away from him,¡± John mused. ¡°We have no way of knowing if he¡¯s friendly or not.¡±


    ¡°He just challenged Dracula to a duel, Boss,¡± Truffle protested. ¡°Once we find Mistress Anne, we are going to search for the silver knight.¡±

 Chapter 36 – Kawa Bunga!

    Leaving Perth behind, John and Truffle ventured east in the direction of Canberra. Staying close to the coast, they aimed to drive approximately 2,300 miles, hopefully less if the country was shrunken down as John theorised it was, to the nation¡¯s capital where Buck had suggested they begin their search for the torii gate. Of course, John needed to collect his final card first¡­ and they needed a car.


    Thankfully, the dinosaur had also given John a tip off for the suspected location of another card which wasn¡¯t too far away. John felt sick just thinking about what Buck had told him about the place. If he was being honest, he¡¯d have gone there even if there wasn¡¯t a chance at getting his last card. He had to do something about it now that he knew.


    However, if they were going to reach it in time, and then make the thirty-six-hour drive to Canberra, they were going to need transport.


    ¡°I think that¡¯s a gas station up ahead,¡± Truffle said merrily as they trekked along the hazy heat-soaked road, Perth¡¯s skyline glittering in the sun behind them.


    ¡°Good,¡± John replied, ¡°just where Buck said it would be. You know, for a weird, indentured triceratops, he¡¯s not half bad.¡±


    As they approached the gas station, a single vehicle was parked next to the pump. Somehow it seemed to have survived the purging of Earth and appeared to be in good working condition. It was exactly what they needed if they were going to get to the location Buck had told them about.


    John approached the vehicle, shoulders sagging, and twisted the key which was helpfully slotted into the ignition. The engine roared to life with a steady thumping which was like music to his ears.


    ¡°What the hell is this?¡± John said with an irritated sigh, ¡°I take it back, that no good dinosaur. The next time I see him we¡¯ll be having strong words.¡±


    ***


    Charlie¡¯s head hurt and his body felt numb. He struggled to remember what had happened. One minute he¡¯d been at the camp failing to get to sleep, an issue a lot of the kids had been having since the apocalypse. The next he was here, wherever that was, with the world¡¯s worst migraine and unnaturally heavy eyes.


    Forcing them open, he saw a dirty, metal floor, his feet hanging above it. He tried to move his head and a shooting pain shot through him. Still, he needed to know more about his surroundings. That¡¯s what Grandma had said: ¡°always know your terrain, deary. It might just save your life one of these days.¡± She was a nice woman; she looked after all the Orphans Of The Apocalypse.


    With great effort he managed to move his head out of the lull to look around. It was dark, but he could hear the sharp, rhythmic clang of, what simply had to be, some kind of monster.


    Charlie wanted to gulp, but his throat was too dry to allow it. He¡¯d always hated the monsters. He¡¯d spent the first two days in Battle Royale hiding from them, it was awful. That was, until Grandma had found him. Surely she¡¯d find him again. Maybe?


    As his senses slowly began to return to him, Charlie realised he was moving. Forcing his head to move again, he looked up to see that his hands were bound above his head ¨C which explained why everything felt so numb. He seemed to be handcuffed to some kind of mini monorail which moved along a track with a slow chug.


    Then his eyes widened, if that was even possible in his pitiable state. Next to him was another kid, and another, and another. All hanging by their hands, attached to the mini monorail as it moved slowly towards the clanking sound of the monster.


    ***


    John and Truffle thundered down the deserted highway, the wind blowing pleasantly in their faces. Their new ride: an old motorbike with a carriage attached, was perfect for the duo, though John certainly didn¡¯t think so.


    Thankfully there were two pairs of goggles in the vehicle which the two equipped, John begrudgingly so, to keep the wind out of their eyes as they rode towards their destination.


    ¡°Boss,¡± Truffle shouted over the rushing wind. ¡°I don¡¯t know what your problem is with this bike, it¡¯s amazing!¡±


    ¡°My problem,¡± he replied incredulously, his duster rippling violently in the wind. ¡°Is that I look like Hagrid on this thing. We¡¯re not Batman and Robin are we? I look ridiculous.¡±


    ¡°I think we look great,¡± Truffle replied, ¡°and I¡¯m sure our viewers will agree. This, this is travelling in style.¡±


    ¡°If you say so,¡± John replied.


    They rode along the highway for a few hours until they neared their destination. A goblin camp made of crudely cut wooden stakes which blocked the road: the location Buck had told John about.


    They pulled over wearily.


    ¡°Looks like we¡¯re here,¡± John said in a low voice as he swung his legs off the bike. ¡°Follow my lead.¡±


    Truffle nodded and the two walked slowly towards the gate.


    As they approached a new quest appeared in John¡¯s interface.


    New Quest:


    Post-Apocalyptic Farming


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Objective:


    Investigate the goblin camp 0/1


    Reward:


    50 shards


    Simple and sweet, the system sure didn¡¯t beat around the bush. Nor did it offer any kind of guidance apart from a vague trail to follow. Thankfully, John already knew what horrors he would find. He was a little annoyed by how small the award was though, fifty shards were hardly anything to write home about. It also suggested that this wasn¡¯t going to be a boss battle or anything like that. At least that meant there wouldn¡¯t be any annoying commentary from A.J. Probably.


    ¡°Halt!¡± A goblin cried out, hanging over the top of the makeshift wooden walls. ¡°Who goes there?¡±


    ¡°A simple merchant,¡± John replied, ¡°looking to trade with your settlement.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t trade,¡± the goblin said with a nasty smirk. ¡°We take what we want, merchant. Come in if you want, but don¡¯t expect compensation.¡±


    The wooden gate swung open and John walked towards it, fists clenched, heart pulsing. He knew what was inside already thanks to Buck. The thought sickened him, but the promise of his final card was enough to stay his rage for a moment. He could kill them all soon enough.


    ¡°Why are there goblins now?¡± Truffle asked, ¡°what happened to all the themed mobs like those fluffy bears and the shrimp?¡±


    ¡°Dunno buddy,¡± John replied. ¡°Maybe the show runners are getting lazy. Goblins exist in most fantasy games though, so it could just be that they¡¯re using them as a common, low-level mob to pad out the game.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like lazy writing to me,¡± Truffle huffed.


    As they wearily entered the goblin camp, John looked around at the butchery inside. Conveyor belts carried ambiguous minced meat, depositing it into steel barrels which goblin workers hurriedly sealed and replaced. The workers were small, green, bipedal andromorphs just like you¡¯d expect. However, these guys wore yellow hard hats and high visibility vests.


    The chain of odd looking, green goblins the size of children passed the barrels down the line where they disappeared into a cobbled-together storehouse.


    They¡¯re really going all in on the industrial theme.


    At the back of the camp was a large wooden building. Its barn doors were padlocked shut and a crude sign, which seemed to be written in blood, hung loosely from a chain above the door. It said: ¡°keep out.¡± A rhythmic clanging sound came from inside the building and the conveyor belts all disappeared into it.


    That has to be where the meat is coming from, John thought angrily.


    Next to the barn was a small, round hut with a thatched roof. It was the nicest building in the camp by a mile and John figured that had to be where the chief lived.


    He made a beeline for the hut.


    ¡°Oi,¡± the goblin guard shouted from atop the wooden battlements. ¡°Don¡¯t you be bothering the chief with your shitty wares, trader. He don¡¯t give a flying fuck what you got to trade.¡±


    ¡°Trust me,¡± John replied over his shoulder, ¡°he¡¯ll be interested in what I¡¯m peddling.¡±


    ¡°Fine,¡± the guard relented, ¡°but it¡¯s your funeral.¡±


    Like they were ever going to let us leave anyway, John thought as he strode up the rickety stairs to the chief¡¯s hut.


    In lieu of a door, the hut had multiple ropes with skulls knotted onto them. They clattered loudly as John pushed through.


    ¡°Well, well, well,¡± a gruff voice with an accent not dissimilar to an east London drawl, called out. ¡°Audacious little human aren¡¯t you?¡±


    John drew closer and saw the goblin before him. He was larger than his kin, and more muscular.


    A hob goblin? John wondered, though without the system or A.J to guide him, he had no way of knowing. It seemed this theory about this place was right, it wasn¡¯t a boss battle or a challenge, if it had been then A.J would have begun announcing it already. No, this camp had side quest written all over it.


    ¡°What brings you to my humble abode, meat bag?¡± the goblin asked.


    His skin was a yellowish colour and he wore a crown made of bone. Over one shoulder rested a glaive which was much too big for him and the only clothing he wore was a brown rag which covered his genitals. His teeth stuck oddly out of his mouth and they were a dark brown colour. He was a truly disgusting creature; John was going to take pleasure in his murder. But first he had some business to discuss.


    ¡°I hear you have a card?¡± John said, putting on his best poker face.


    ¡°And where¡¯d you hear that? Sorry to disappoint but only contestants get to ¡®av cards. You wouldn¡¯t happen to be one of them would you? There¡¯re some nice rewards for killing contestants.¡±


    ¡°Nope,¡± John lied, ¡°I¡¯m just a humble merchant looking to trade some fine wares¡­ but only to someone who can properly use them. The kind of person who has a card.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe you. All humans are contestants and you look pretty human to me,¡± the chief replied. ¡°So here¡¯s what¡¯s gonna happen. First I¡¯m gonna take your wares, then I¡¯m gonna put you in the warehouse with the others. You¡¯re a little bigger than them so it might be a tight fit. You won¡¯t be there for long though¡­¡±


    ¡°I told you this was a bad idea, Boss,¡± Truffle said, sticking his head through the opening.


    ¡°Yeah,¡± John sighed, scratching the back of his head. ¡°I only tried it cause Buck asked, this is my preferred method anyway.¡±


    He drew his revolvers, spinning them around his fingers like a cowboy from a western film. Deftly, he flicked the cylinders with his thumbs and the golden runes that glowed on the barrels of the guns turned a bright scarlet colour.


    ¡°Is that a pig?¡± The chief asked, ¡°I didn¡¯t realise you meant you was selling bacon. I guess I¡¯d better cut me off a slice.¡±


    With both hands he grasped the haft of his glaive and swung it down menacingly in front of himself.


    ¡°Sorry to have to be the one to tell you this,¡± John said cooly, ¡°but on this planet we outgrew martial weapons a long time ago.¡±


    With a sly smile, he squeezed the triggers of his guns and a vicious blast of flame erupted from the barrels with a cacophonous, explosive sound of atonal fury.


    The chief screamed as his loin cloth caught on fire, magnesium pellets peppering his flesh and setting his skin ablaze. He dropped his glaive to the floor with a clatter and pushed past John, throwing himself down the stairs and into the middle of the camp.


    Screaming, rolling, and fully on fire, the campground grinded to an immediate halt as the dazed, shocked goblins turned to watch their leader burn to death in front of them, leaving a trail of smeared blood wherever he rolled.


    ¡°I guess he couldn¡¯t handle the heat,¡± John said, as he stepped out of the hut blowing smoke from the barrels of his guns, and looked across the camp, flicking his cylinders back to .38 special mode.


    For a long moment he stood there, staring down at the goblins who stared right back at him, dumbstruck. The camp was completely silent with the exception of the machinery hum.


    Then, the sound of crunching bone and ripping flesh broke the silence.


    John looked towards the noise to see Truffle gorging himself on the charred remains of the goblin chief.


    ¡°That pig¡¯s eating the chief!¡± One of the goblins shouted.


    ¡°What the fuck?¡± Another one responded.


    Then, just as all hell was about to break loose the rumbling sound of a nearby motor broke the silence once more and the entire camp turned towards the gate.


    A rocket propelled wheelchair blasted through the gates; dual gatling guns were attached to the sides. A lady sat in the wheelchair wearing driving goggles and a nightgown. Her grey permed hair was windswept and her wrinkled skin barely masked her glowing blue veins. An IV was connected to her hand, the bag containing glittering blue liquid.


    ¡°Hello there deary,¡± she said in that typical old lady voice, ¡°looks like you could use a hand, let old Agnes help you out, ok?¡±


    Dumbstruck, John nodded, mouth agape. He¡¯d seen this woman on a recap a few days ago. She¡¯d been fighting goblins then, and from what he could recall she was as deadly as she was utterly psychotic. He didn¡¯t want to be anywhere near her when those gatling guns began to fire.


    ¡°Kawa Bunga!¡± She screamed, cackling like an old witch as she squeezed triggers on both sides of her chair and the gatling guns revved up, sounding like twin chainsaws.

 Chapter 37 – 200 Rounds Per Minute

    John¡¯s eyes widened as the old woman squeezed the triggers of her mounted gatling guns, she barely even gave them a warning.


    Acting quickly, he dived from the top of the stairs as a hail of lightning-fast bullets tore into the goblins surrounding him. The chief¡¯s tent burst into tiny pieces of cloth as it was shredded, and the wooden steps exploded as the powerful rounds ripped them apart sending pieces of wooden shrapnel flying across the camp.


    John hit the floor with a thump and rolled to the side, grabbing truffle under his arm.


    I swear he used to be lighter than this! He thought as he absconded with the pig, swinging his free arm like his life depended on it ¨C which it just might have.


    Sprinting as fast as he could, John ran in zig zags across the camp and dived behind a thick, metal conveyor belt. He wasn¡¯t convinced of its legitimacy as a form of cover, but it was the best thing he had. Overhead the gatling guns roared like chainsaws and, though he couldn¡¯t hear her over the cacophony, he was pretty certain the crazy old bat was cackling like a comic book villain as she fired.


    ¡°Boss!¡± Truffle shouted to be heard over the noise, ¡°I did what you said, I got the chief¡¯s power!¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s called Pig Squeal, it says, a metal vocalist¡¯s bread and butter. I¡¯m gonna use it!¡±


    John¡¯s eyes widened; he knew what was coming. Slipping his grip, Truffle wriggled underneath the conveyor belt and screamed.


    Autonomously, John reached up to cover his ears as a blast of pure power erupted from the pig¡¯s mouth. It was so powerful that he could see the shockwave as if it was a physical thing. He felt blood trickle down his ears as a bone shattering earthquake rippled through the camp throwing the goblins all over the place.


    Before his eyes, a dozen goblins were thrown into the air and the crazy lady mowed them down with extreme prejudice. In seconds, all that was left was a pink mist as their bodies exploded from the impact of her fierce, 200 rounds per minute firing, weaponry.


    Eyes popped out of their heads as the pressure from the rounds destroyed their skulls. Splintered bone scattered through the air and blood seemed to land all around the camp like gothic rain.


    Not wanting to be left out of the massacre, John drew his revolvers once again. His dragon¡¯s breath rounds had cooled down and were available once more. He flicked the cylinders and the golden runes turned a deep crimson colour as he picked his target.


    A group of three terrified goblins ran towards him, likely seeking cover as well. Little did they know that John was waiting for them. As they came into range he peeked over the top of the conveyor belt and pulled the triggers.


    Fire blasted out of his guns like a momentary flamethrower, lighting the three goblins on fire and peppering them with magnesium pellets. They burned from the inside out as the scorching chemical element slipped through their skin like a knife through butter.


    Screams pierced the wall of sound created by the gatling guns, and the smell of rancid, burning flesh penetrated deep into John¡¯s nostrils. It was disgusting, it was horrifying, but it sure was effective.


    Flicking his cylinders back to 38. Special mode, he began picking off cowering targets from his place of relative safety. It was a complete slaughter. The goblins didn¡¯t even have a chance to fight back. In less than two minutes, the fight was over. Signalled by the old lady¡¯s gatling guns running out of ammo.


    Assuming that they worked similarly to real gatling guns, John expected that each drum held 400 rounds and could fire 200 per minute. That was how he knew the fight had only been two minutes long. He¡¯d enjoyed modern weaponry as a hobby once upon a time ¨C kickstarted by his stint in the National Guard, now it was a necessity.


    Of course, this was a system led death game and if his own revolvers were anything to go by then there was no reason for the gatling guns to follow the same laws of physics that they had a week ago.


    Moving gingerly from behind cover, guns raised, he steadily approached the old woman.


    ¡°That was one hell of a fight, deary,¡± she said with a toothless smile. ¡°Nearly went and gave myself a heart attack.¡±


    ¡°You nearly gave me one too,¡± John replied cautiously. ¡°That¡¯s some serious hardware you¡¯ve got there.¡±


    ¡°What, this old thing?¡± She asked, patting the wheelchair, ¡°I¡¯ve had it for years. I asked my grandson to buy me one of those fancy new electronic chairs like that black hole scientist had, but the lazy bum wouldn¡¯t get off his rump to help out his sweet old grandma.¡±


    ¡°Um,¡± John stuttered, bewildered by her response. ¡°I was talking about the gatling guns.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah they¡¯re good too I guess. Take a lot more maintenance than I wanted though. When my grandkids were younger I used to watch them play fantasy games with swords and sorcery. I was kind of hoping to get some magic of my own but I guess we can¡¯t always get what we want now can we?¡±


    What kind of psychopath isn¡¯t happy with twin gatling guns? John thought, but he knew better than to say it aloud.


    ¡°Well they sure made short work of those goblins,¡± he opted for instead.


    ¡°That they did, those pesky little critters have caused me no end of problems, let me tell you.¡± She took in a deep, wheezing breath before fiddling with her IV. Her eyes glowed for a moment, then she continued. ¡°But I digress. Thanks for the help deary but I have some business to attend to in these parts so I best be on my way.¡±


    Breathing a sigh of relief, John lowered his guns slightly. He noted how odd it was that the old bat didn¡¯t seem even the slightest bit perturbed by his threatening stance. He¡¯d had his revolvers trained on her the entire time. She really must have been crazy.


    However, before he could holster his weapons ¨C well, put them back in his soul space, but holster sounded cooler ¨C she made a beeline for the large building with the keep out sign on it.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ¡°Shit,¡± he muttered under his breath as she whizzed past him.


    ¡°Isn¡¯t that where we¡¯re going Boss?¡± Truffle asked.


    ¡°It is,¡± he replied. ¡°Even in a game like this I¡¯d feel bad letting someone¡¯s granny roll in there. She has no idea what¡¯s inside.¡±


    ¡°Better go stop her then,¡± Truffle said. ¡°I¡¯ll search the rest of the camp for your card. Wasn¡¯t my pig squeal just incredible? I think this might be the one Boss,¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t choose anything yet, it¡¯s the first power you¡¯ve gotten since you levelled. We¡¯ll decide on it together later,¡± John said, then he turned and sprinted after the old lady shouting his protests. ¡°Stop! Don¡¯t go in there.¡±


    ¡°Sorry deary, but I have to,¡± she replied sternly. All warmth draining from her voice as she looked at him with cold, hardened eyes. ¡°It¡¯s why I came here.¡±


    John shuddered as an icy chill crept down his spine and he suddenly got the distinct feeling that she knew exactly what was behind those doors. Just like he did.


    ¡°Me too,¡± he said quietly. ¡°How about we check it out together?¡±


    She nodded and, taking hold of a handle each, the duo slid the sliding barn doors open and in unison, they gagged.


    An odorous wave of stinking death wafted out of the stuffy warehouse. Decaying skin, rotten meat, and despair greeted their all too human nostrils.


    John wretched, doubling over as bile stung the back of his throat threatening an eruption of acidic vomit. The old lady, however, simply powered through it into the darkness with a determined look etched into her haggard face.


    Holding his nose, John followed her.


    Conveyor belts hummed throughout the warehouse, carrying minced meat outside. Further back there was a horrible grinding sound mixed with the sound of whimpering.


    Looking up, John saw where it came from.


    A line of children were hanging by their wrists, strapped to a moving line of chain linked metal which was attached to the ceiling. They moved slowly, some unconsciously, towards the grinding machine.


    ¡°Fuck,¡± John gasped, ¡°it¡¯s worse than I thought.¡±


    ¡°Charlie?¡± The old woman yelled, ¡°Charlie where are you?¡±


    ¡°Grandma?¡± A timid and broken voice called back in a defeated mumble.


    The old woman whizzed towards the boy; he was second to next in line to be dropped into the mincer. Pushing up with her hands, she tried to reach him but failed.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll getcha,¡± Agnes said, but from what he was seeing, John wasn¡¯t hopeful.


    Pulling out one of his revolvers he fired a round at the handcuffs which attached the boy to ceiling chain. The bullet erupted with a deafening crack, hit the handcuffs and then ricocheted off. John ducked quickly as the deadly round bounced around the warehouse.


    Frustrated, he got back up and brushed off an angry glare from the old woman. If bullets weren¡¯t up to the task then he¡¯d have to find another way. There had to be an off switch somewhere.


    Dashing towards the mincer, John began to search but there didn¡¯t seem to be any way to turn it off.


    ¡°I can¡¯t find the off switch!¡± He shouted desperately towards the old woman, panic beginning to set in.


    Skill: Trauma Response has been activated.


    A sudden and unwelcome wave of calmness washed through him and he began thinking more clearly again. This was the first time he¡¯d gotten a skill activation notification. If there was no off switch by the mincer then perhaps there was a control panel at the opposite side of the warehouse.


    With his mind set, he rushed towards the opposite side whilst Agnes continued desperately trying to unhook the boy. John knew that wasn¡¯t going to work. There was no hook, he was handcuffed. But there was no point telling the old woman that, she was obviously panicking and doing her best ¨C just as he would have been if not for his messed-up skill.


    The mincer chugged away as John reached the other side of the barn. A small girl hung dangerously close to the death machine. His time was running out.


    ¡°I-I think it¡¯s over there, mister,¡± the child closest to him coughed, nodding her small head towards a box a few feet away.


    John nodded his thanks and ran towards it, finding a small panel attached to a metal box. There were three buttons and none of them were labelled.


    ¡°Fuck, fuck, fuck,¡± he muttered as he tried to decide which one to press. ¡°I hate this game!¡±


    He was guessing, but he had to assume one of the buttons released the handcuffs since they were obviously of an alien design. One of them should shut down the machine and the other one must turn it on.


    That meant that, if he was right, he had a two in three chance of choosing correctly and even if he chose wrong it wasn¡¯t like he could make the machine be more turned on ¨C it was already working.


    Gritting his teeth, he chose one at random and pressed it. A few yelps and some thuds sounded out from behind him. He must have hit the release switch, thank the heavens.


    Turning around with a grin on his face he saw the line of children lying on the floor. They were beaten, bruised, and would likely need therapy for the rest of their lives, but they were safe.


    No one is safe anymore.


    All except for one.


    The little girl on the end, next to Agnes¡¯ boy.


    Her cuffs hadn¡¯t opened all the way and she was dangling right over the mincer which still clanked and hummed as it grinded.


    Turning back to the panel, John smashed a different button.


    Nothing happened.


    He pressed the only remaining button and the machinery noises died down.


    ¡°Oh thank-¡± He began but was quickly drowned out by a startled yelp followed by an agonised scream.


    He turned around to see the girl hanging half out of the mincer. Her legs were stuck inside of it, blood leaking onto the floor and she looked terrified. The cuffs must have opened somehow, perhaps rather than being stuck before it was actually a failsafe to prevent the livestock from falling in accidentally?


    He must have overridden it when he started smashing them randomly. His stomach lurched as his heartbeat quickened and nausea overwhelmed him.


    What do I do? He wondered, feeling all the blood drain from his face.


    On one hand, he could try to pull her out of there, but she¡¯d probably bleed out ¨C a horrible and painful death for anyone, but especially a child. The mincer wasn¡¯t turned on anymore, but she was stuck inside it mid grind.


    ¡°Damn it!¡± He screamed, as he realised what he was going to have to do, the only humane thing he could do.


    Fuck this game. You will not take my humanity. I will burn it all to the ground.


    Pulling out a revolver and wiping a tear from his right eye he marched angrily towards the mincer.


    ¡°Deary?¡± Agnes asked, stunned as she held the boy in her arms. ¡°Surely you¡¯re not?¡±


    ¡°What choice do I have?¡± John snapped through gritted teeth, all the while the girl¡¯s screams deafened his ears and pierced his soul.


    ¡°There¡¯s always a choice, deary.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, a slow and painful death or a merciful one. I know which one I¡¯d want.¡±


    He reached the mincer, placing the barrel of his gun against the girl¡¯s head. Thick, crimson blood leaked down the side of the machine, dying his boots.


    ¡°I¡¯m¡­¡± he began in a low whisper, ¡°I¡¯m so sorry I couldn¡¯t save you.¡±


    Closing his eyes, he began to squeeze the trigger, gritting his teeth and cursing the people responsible for this sick game.


    Something brushed his cheek and he opened his eyes.


    The girl, who couldn¡¯t have been older than seven, placed her hand on his cheek and wiped a tear away with her thumb. Her eyes bulged, bloodshot and pained. Her lips quivered as she fought to keep the screaming inside.


    The warehouse went sill.


    Silent.


    Looking her in the eyes, John nodded. He knew what he had to do. It was the humane thing. The logical choice.


    You won¡¯t take my humanity.


    ¡°WAIT!¡± Truffle squealed, barrelling into the warehouse.


    John turned, his heart beating so quickly he thought he might collapse. What was the pig doing here?


    ¡°We can save her!¡± Truffle shouted.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I found a card, give it to her.¡±


    ¡°How will that help?¡± John asked sceptically. Every moment he wasted talking was another moment the girl was in complete and utter agony.


    ¡°Just trust me!¡± Truffle yelled, ¡°pull her out of that thing and shove the card in, there¡¯s no time.¡±


    John glanced at his gun, then at the girl, and finally back at Truffle.


    ¡°Fuck!¡± He shouted, dropping his gun. ¡°You¡¯d better be right about this.¡±

 Chapter 38 – Trauma Nullification

    John sat outside the warehouse shivering in the afternoon sun. His body felt numb, hands trembling as he pulled his duster tightly around himself.


    ¡°You did the right thing Boss,¡± Truffle said lightly, nudging him gently with his snout. ¡°She¡¯s gonna live because of you.¡±


    ¡°For how long?¡± He replied in a low voice. ¡°One card won¡¯t get her through the gate. Killing her would have been more merciful in the end. I¡¯ve given her a few days of pain at the most, assuming she doesn¡¯t get killed in some horrific way by the mobs¡­ and I¡¯ve lost that card.¡±


    Truffle sighed, nuzzling his way underneath John¡¯s arms and laying his heavy head on his lap. John recalled a time not so long ago when the pig¡¯s entire body took up a similar amount of space. He¡¯d grown so much from levelling up. How much bigger would he get as the game went on? John wondered if he¡¯d eventually turn into an orc. Then he imagined the appalled look on Anne¡¯s face if she could have seen her precious little teacup pig the way he was now.


    Anne¡­


    He missed her. She¡¯d have known exactly what to say in this situation. Though she¡¯d probably have been more torn up about it than he was. He¡¯d have had to comfort her, but perhaps that would have been better. Perhaps that would have provided enough of a distraction for him to take his mind off it.


    The girl¡¯s screams still rang in his head like a church bell. Images of her agonised face as he pulled her out of the machine. Mangled legs hanging limply from a child¡¯s torso. It was¡­ he paused as the threat of tears stung the backs of his eyes.


    Without warning, he suddenly found himself remembering the day the gates arrived, vivid images swirling through his head. He¡¯d tried to convince Anne to come with him through one of the gates as they¡¯d stood in the street watching their apartment disappear. She¡¯d said, ¡°What if whatever is through that gate is¡­ worse than death?¡± at the time he¡¯d denied it, he was so shocked to hear her speak that way, to act as if suicide was better than whatever was on the other side of the torii gate.


    Now though, after all this, he wasn¡¯t so sure.


    Skill: Trauma response activated.


    ¡°You know Boss,¡± Truffle began, interrupting his spiralling thoughts.  ¡°A wise man once said there is no hope in death. It was you, you were the wise man. I heard you say that to Mistress right before the world changed and you were right. I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll tell you the same when we find her.¡±


    ¡°We won¡¯t find her,¡± John whispered, then clamped his mouth shut as realisation struck.


    ¡°Of course we will Boss,¡± Truffle said, childish optimism lighting up his voice. ¡°She¡¯s out there, I just know it.¡±


    Somehow, the pig¡¯s light-hearted and hopeful outlook struck a nerve with John and he felt himself clenching his fists as he struggled to contain his outrage. After all this time how could he not see? How did he not realise that she wasn¡¯t coming back?


    Skill: Trauma Response has failed to activate.


    Rebooting system¡­


    ¡°For fuck¡¯s sake Truffle she¡¯s dead!¡± John yelled, an overwhelming wave of anger and frustration coursing through him. ¡°Don¡¯t you remember? She was shot. She died protecting us. She died¡­ protecting me.¡± His voice trailed off and he felt the floodgates begin to open.


    System rebooted¡­


    Skill: Trauma Response has evolved into¡­


    New skill:


    Trauma Nullification


    Skill: Trauma Nullification has mutated, unlocking an additional skill.


    New Skill:


    Emotional Dampening


    He felt faux calm washing over him, a gentle wave of warmth that came instantaneously. It was infuriating.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°Screw this stupid game!¡± He shouted, looking up at the sky as he imagined the trillions of viewers potentially looking down on him. ¡°Emotions are human god damn it, but I can¡¯t even have those thanks to this fucking system.¡±


    His words died off in his throat and he found himself staring down at Truffle, his heat was comforting.


    ¡°Did you mean it?¡± The pig said in a small voice. ¡°Is she really?...¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± he replied softly. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I shouldn¡¯t have told you like that it¡¯s just¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s been a tough day for both of us.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s no excuse. I¡¯m supposed to look after you and-¡±


    Truffle began laughing suddenly in a sad way, interrupting John¡¯s apology. His voice was a mixture of a low chuckle and a broken squeal.


    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just, Mistress asked me to look after you,¡± he replied, eyes glistening. ¡°A few days before the gates appeared. You were at work; she said you¡¯d been having a hard time and told me that we had to look after you.¡±


    ¡°There were talks of layoffs,¡± John replied, ¡°I was worried we were going to lose the apartment.¡±


    ¡°Well, at least that¡¯s one thing you don¡¯t have to worry about anymore.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s true,¡± John said with a slight laugh, ¡°if there¡¯s one good thing about the apocalypse, it¡¯s got to be the absence of rent.¡±


    They both laughed a little, but it soon died down and the two sat in silence staring out across the blood-soaked camp which was strewn with goblin corpses.


    ¡°Did you see it?¡± Truffle said after a long moment.


    John looked at him quizzically.


    ¡°Did you see Mistress get shot?¡± Truffle asked, a tremor in his voice.


    ¡°Not exactly,¡± John sighed. ¡°She pushed us through the torii gate right? As I fell through I heard a gunshot. That cop had her in his sights. It wasn¡¯t hard to put two and two together.¡±


    ¡°So she still might be alive then?¡±


    ¡°Truffle,¡± John began, ¡°there¡¯s no way. Even if the bullet didn¡¯t kill her she-¡±


    ¡°But there was one space left in the gate right?¡±


    ¡°That depends on if you counted as a person,¡± he replied. ¡°You¡¯re a contestant right? You levelled up, you have a card. Surely you counted.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t know that for sure,¡± he said, raising his head and staring intently with sparkling eyes at John. ¡°There¡¯s still hope. I just know she made it; she had to. We need to find her, Boss.¡±


    ¡°Truffle I don¡¯t think¡­¡± He began but trailed off. The look in the pig¡¯s eyes, pure, childish optimism. Would it be right to shut that down? They all could use a little hope in these dire times, surely. ¡°Just don¡¯t get your hopes up.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± Truffle replied, but the tone in his voice didn¡¯t fill John with any confidence that he¡¯d heed his advice.


    As they drifted into further silence, enjoying each other¡¯s company that sombre way that a man sits with his pig, lamenting loss. A notification popped up in John¡¯s user interface.


    Quest Complete:


    Post-Apocalyptic Farming


    Objective:


    Investigate the goblin camp 1/1


    Reward:


    50 shards


    50 shards, John thought with a dour smirk, closing off the notification and shaking his head. He slapped his cheeks and rocked backwards slightly.


    ¡°Anyway, we should probably go and check on the others,¡± John said with a heavy sigh, lifting himself off the floor.


    Agnes had moved the kids into the chief¡¯s tent soon after they¡¯d been freed. The girl was laid unconsciously on a plush bed, truly a sight to behold.


    ¡°How¡¯s she doing?¡± John said as he pushed the stringed, skulls, which acted as a door, aside.


    ¡°Better I think, deary¡± Agnes replied. Her wheelchair was positioned right up against the bed and she tended to the child with a cool scrap of clothing she was using as a cloth. The other kids were scattered around the room, dazedly sitting on the floor and staring into space. They¡¯d been through a lot; it was only natural that they¡¯d suffer for it.


    You will not take my humanity.


    ¡°Looks like the card worked,¡± John said, staring with gloomy intrigue at the girl¡¯s body.


    Her legs and arms had been replaced by some kind of robotic limbs. It looked freaky, like the aftermath of a fight scene in The Terminator.


    ¡°That card saved her life,¡± Agnes said with a smile, ¡°you saved her life.¡±


    ¡°Yeah,¡± John replied, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°But for how long?¡±


    Truffle had explained the card¡¯s powers to John just after he¡¯d pulled the girl from the mincer. He¡¯d said that it was something called Handy Android, a card which replaced the user¡¯s limbs with reinforced robotic parts. As with all cards, the explanation was pretty vague but Truffle had correctly guessed that it would seal the girl¡¯s wounds on her legs and lower torso when it replaced her limbs. It was a lucky find really, and not the kind of card that John was particularly interested using for himself. He was already worried that his humanity was slipping away thanks to his ability to acquire skills, the last thing he wanted was to speed up the process.


    Still, he might have been able to trade the card for a better one at the kiosk. Now he¡¯d never know.


    ¡°Thanks for helping us with the goblins, Granny,¡± John said earnestly. ¡°But it¡¯s time for us to hit the road.¡±


    ¡°Where will you go?¡± She asked.


    ¡°Canberra, I¡¯ve got a hunch that the torii gate is around there somewhere and we¡¯re running out of time to reach it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me?¡± John said, raising an eyebrow at the elderly lady.


    ¡°I started out that way, deary,¡± she replied with a shrug. ¡°There¡¯s nothing there but death.¡±


    ¡°Shit!¡± John swore, ¡°do you happen to know where it is?¡±


    ¡°Nope, but our leader is getting close.¡±


    ¡°Your¡­ leader?¡±


    ¡°We have a camp mister,¡± a little boy said, he seemed less traumatised than the rest. John recognised him as the boy Agnes had been trying to save.


    ¡°Charlie right?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right mister, you should come to our camp. The Captain will be able to help you. He and Grandma helped me.¡±


    ¡°Charlie!¡± Agnes scolded, ¡°you can¡¯t just go inviting strangers to the camp. What did I tell you about safety protocols?¡±


    ¡°But he helped us.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± John said with a passive wave of his hand. ¡°I don¡¯t want to impose and besides¡­¡± He trailed off, not wanting to disclose that he had no desire to get attached to a group of people who would likely be dead in the next few days. He was better on his own, it was safer that way. Just him and Truffle.


    ¡°No, deary,¡± Agnes sighed. ¡°Charlie¡¯s right, you did save them and I could use some extra muscle on the drive back anyway.¡±


    ¡°I really don¡¯t think-¡±


    ¡°Can we go, Boss?¡± Truffle asked, padding the ground excitedly. ¡°Maybe someone there has met Mistress Anne.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± John said, taking a moment to properly think things through. On the one hand he didn¡¯t really want to get roped into their problems. On the other, if these people had come from different starting locations around Australia then he might be able to collect enough information to make a new guess at where the gate was. If he was lucky, someone there might even have a lead on another card. ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll help you get the kids back to your camp but I¡¯m making no further promises.¡±


    ¡°Yay!¡± Charlie shouted gleefully.


    ¡°Road trip!¡± Truffle squealed, joining in.


    Agnes simply nodded her gratitude before proclaiming, ¡°then I guess we¡¯d better get this show on the road.¡±

 Chapter 39 – The Orphans of The Apocalypse

    It was late in the afternoon by the time they reached the camp, if it could even really be called that. Docked conspicuously in the middle of nowhere, their camp was a little town built on top of a dark blue cargo ship.


    Multi-coloured shipping containers littered the deck and people seemed to be living inside of them, almost like they were prefabricated houses. More surprisingly though, was that the ship was still functional.


    They hadn¡¯t spoken much as they travelled together, but Agnes had mentioned that their camp was mobile. As he gazed up at the large cargo ship, John realised that was an understatement.


    As the rumbling engine vibrated between his thighs, John steadily rode his bike towards the edge of the cliff they were approaching. When he pulled up, Agnes reached over and uncoupled the horsebox he¡¯d been towing. They had needed a way to transport all the kids and luckily there were a few horseboxes stored behind the warehouse.


    John shivered at the thought of what the goblins had probably been using them for, but at least they were being put to good use now.


    Before they¡¯d left the camp John had made a point of burning it down in front of the children using a dragon¡¯s breath shell. They¡¯d cheered, as any child would have, but John hoped the symbology would help them to begin to move on. A futile effort, since they¡¯d all be dead in a few days anyway, but still a worthwhile one ¨C or so he hoped.


    After uncoupling the horsebox from the bike, Agnes rolled towards John and produced a small flashlight from one of the satchels that was strapped to her wheelchair.


    She flashed the torch three times in quick succession and a large metal plank was manoeuvred from the boat to the cliffside, creating a walkway which allowed them to access the ship.


    Agnes and the kids crossed first, followed by John and Truffle as he carefully rode their bike across the metal plank.


    ¡°Picked up another stray have you?¡± A large man said to Agnes, crossing his muscular arms.


    ¡°Oh no deary, not this time,¡± she replied. ¡°This is John and Truffle; they helped me rescue Charlie and the others.¡±


    The man walked towards them, strutting like a rooster. He wore military style combat pants, boots and a t-shirt which was obviously a size too small. John knew his type; he was the kind of guy who shopped exclusively at the army and navy stores and had a bomb shelter in his back yard filled with canned goods and AR-15¡¯s.


    A doomsday prepper, John thought. I guess that explains the boat.


    ¡°They call me, The Captain,¡± the man said, discerningly looking John up and down. ¡°I¡¯m in charge around here. You can come aboard, but I¡¯m keeping my eye on you. Got it?¡±


    ¡°Why, Captain?¡± I asked, returning his look. ¡°If you were going to give yourself a fake rank you could have easily made yourself The Admiral.¡±


    ¡°How about, The Field Marshal,¡± Truffle added, ¡°that has a cool ring to it, though you¡¯d probably need to grow a moustache if you wanted to pull it off. I wonder what I¡¯d look like with a moustache?¡±


    ¡°Did that pig just talk?¡± The Captain recoiled in surprise, ¡°and why is it wearing a bowtie?¡±


    ¡°Because the end of the world is not an excuse to dress poorly,¡± Truffle replied haughtily. ¡°Now answer the Boss¡¯ question, No-Tash!¡±


    ¡°I¡­ what?¡± He replied, confusion etched into the lines on his weather-beaten face. ¡°It¡¯s Captain because we¡¯re on a ship. An Admiral is in charge of multiple ships and I only have one. Besides, I didn¡¯t grant myself this name you know, it¡¯s what the other residents started calling me. What kind of loser gives himself a nickname?¡±


    John smiled, offering out his hand. Perhaps he¡¯d misjudged him. ¡°Well Captain, it¡¯s good to meet you. If it¡¯s no trouble, I have a task I could use your help with.¡±


    ¡°What kinda task?¡± The Captain said, raising an eyebrow as he skittishly took John¡¯s hand.


    ¡°I want to make a map of all the locations people have been to so we can work out where the next torii gate will be.¡±


    The Captain smiled slowly, eyes lighting up as he blinked a few times, ¡°come with me.¡±


    ***


    Hours passed by and soon day turned to night, and then into day once more. With only three days remaining, John was determined to uncover the location of the torii gate. Though his need of a final card never strayed too far from his mind.


    He¡¯d stayed up through the night with The Captain as the two of them methodically spoke to every resident on the ship. Crossing off areas one by one. A large, paper map was spread across a metal table and John leaned over it. They¡¯d taken up residence in the ship¡¯s bridge. Tattered, leather chairs sat discarded around the edges of the room.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    ¡°We¡¯ve basically ruled out the north at this point,¡± he murmured to himself as he poured over the map which was covered in black X¡¯s ruling out possible locations. The more information they added to the map, the more certain John was that the country had been shrunken. From the many locations visited by the members of The Orphans of The Apocalypse, at a guess it would have to be approximately one fifth of its original size.  ¡°The southwest has been pretty thoroughly explored too. That leaves the southeast, though Grandma seemed pretty certain that it wasn¡¯t in Canberra.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s still Melbourne, Sydney, and Adelaide,¡± The Captain said, stifling a yawn with his palm. ¡°No one on board has been to those places, though I¡¯m not sure we have enough time left to properly scout them all.¡±


    They¡¯d been sailing eastward through the night. He¡¯d explained how they kept the ship moving as much as possible to avoid becoming an easy target for the mobs. Apparently they¡¯d been in some pretty hairy fights, like they were drawn towards the vessel.


    He¡¯d found the ship moored on Barrow Island, which was where his capsule had landed. A small expanse of land off the western coast of northern Australia. Alone, he¡¯d sailed it from there picking up stragglers as he went. Supposedly he and Agnes met up in the first few days and began rescuing children who had been forced into the game.


    That was one of the biggest reason¡¯s John had to suspect just how small the country had been shrunken down to. If Agnes had started in Canberra but met up with The Captain after a mere few days, then there was no way the map was full sized. Even with her rockets, travelling that distance would have been impossible.


    They¡¯d called their little crew, The Orphans of The Apocalypse and for a short while they had been the only two adults. However, more recently they began running into stranded adult contestants as well and in the last few days their group had grown to over thirty people, eleven of those being adults, though only a few of them were carded.


    John had wanted to ask The Captain how he planned to get nineteen, mostly uncarded, children through the gate. The rules were pretty clear after all, but he decided to leave it alone. The Captain seemed like a pretty smart guy, so John was sure that he was well aware of the fate that would likely present itself in three days¡¯ time.


    God I hate this fucking game, he thought.


    ¡°What¡¯s this place?¡± He asked, pointing at a small island not far from Adelaide.


    ¡°That¡¯s Kangaroo Island, if my memory serves,¡± The Captain replied. He¡¯d been a sailor in a former life, working on shipping vessels just like the one they were currently on, so his geographical knowledge was quite good. Or at least, it far surpassed John¡¯s.


    ¡°Kangaroo Island?¡± John replied, rolling his eyes. ¡°It¡¯s like they want people to make fun of them.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s no different to how anywhere else is named really,¡± The Captain replied with a coy smile. ¡°If you look at the etymology of most place names you¡¯ll find that they were named after people, animals, or geographical features like rivers and lakes.¡±


    ¡°Alright professor, next time I¡¯ll defer to your infinite wisdom before commenting on things.¡±


    The two laughed and John¡¯s eyes began to droop as he rubbernecked and almost face planted the table.


    ¡°I need some sleep,¡± he said through a yawn.


    ¡°Me too. I¡¯ve already charted a course for the east so there¡¯s probably not much more we can do right now. We may as well hit the hay. There¡¯s an entrance to the safe rooms below deck. It appeared a few days ago, but from what I can tell the door leads to a different place for some of us. Though Agnes and I go to the same place.¡±


    ¡°Just so you know, they¡¯re not true safe rooms. Does yours have a dinosaur bartender per chance?¡± John asked, raising an eyebrow.


    ¡°Yup, nearly pissed myself the first time I met her. Though she¡¯s been good to me. And I know, I¡¯ve been warned plenty by my manager.¡±


    ¡°Mine drugged me and threw me into one of the IPSC¡¯s death games the first time I met him. He¡¯s been pretty useful since then though. By the way, I know it¡¯s a long shot, but I still need one more card before I can pass through the gate. You wouldn¡¯t happen to have a line on one would you?¡±


    The Captain shifted uneasily from foot to foot, his hand twitching as he rested it on the hilt of the machete which hung loosely from his waist. ¡°I might, but there are a lot of people on this ship who also need cards. I like you John, but we¡¯ve only just met.¡±


    ¡°No need to get antsy, it was just a question,¡± John replied, holding his hands up casually. ¡°Besides, your little weed whacker isn¡¯t a good match up against me.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be so sure,¡± The Captain grinned, ¡°this baby has gotten me out of my fair share of scrapes.¡±


    ¡°Unless it¡¯s a magic machete, I doubt you¡¯d even have time to draw it before I put you down.¡± John returned the smile; it was nice to talk to someone who was on a similar wavelength. Though the interaction made him wonder about his buddies from back home.


    I wonder if they¡¯re in the game, he thought. Though a part of him hoped that they weren¡¯t. He was well aware of the eventual fate of all contestants. Battle Royale could only have a single winner after all. He shivered.


    ¡°It¡¯s not from a card if that¡¯s what you¡¯re asking,¡± The Captain said with an easy smile. ¡°But I¡¯ve killed my fair share of mobs with it back in the early days.¡±


    Early days, John thought lazily. It really does feel like we¡¯ve been here forever. In reality it¡¯s only been seven days. One week. Fuck.


    ¡°Are you two still up here?¡± Truffle said, wandering through the open door and yawning.


    ¡°Where have you been?¡± John asked the pig, moving away from the map table and leaning against the side wall, mostly to stop himself from keeling over with exhaustion.


    ¡°I was exploring the ship!¡± He replied excitedly, ¡°I spoke to some people, but no sign of the mistress. Maybe her pod landed in a different country? Oh and I also found this cool room below deck, it had all these steel bars and there was someone inside, but I couldn¡¯t get in. Then I took a nap, and now I¡¯m here.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like a fun time,¡± John said, ignoring the wide-eyed response from The Captain at Truffle¡¯s mentioning of, what was obviously, a prison cell. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go get some shut eye, hopefully this floating bucket won¡¯t get eaten by any giant shrimp whilst I¡¯m asleep.¡±


    ¡°Giant shrimp?¡± The Captain asked, pulling a face that said he was much too tired to be dealing with this shit.


    ¡°Oh yeah,¡± Truffle said. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you all about it! We were in this city called Perth and this huge shrimp monster¡­¡±


    John left the bridge, closing the door behind him and winking at The Captain, who gave him a pleading look which John ignored. The man still seemed utterly terrified of the talking pig. A fact that John found quite amusing.

 Chapter 40 – The Deal

    3 days remaining.


    It was late morning on the third day when John finally awoke. Groggily donning his duster and jeans ensemble, he staggered towards the bar with half closed eyes and dropped heavily onto a well-worn stool.


    ¡°Breakfast?¡± Buck asked, though he was already in the middle of cooking a fry-up. The delectable smell of sizzling bacon had been the smelling salts that had woken him from his disturbed slumber.


    ¡°Please,¡± John grumbled, rubbing furiously at his eyes. ¡°We need to talk.¡±


    ¡°How ominous,¡± Buck commented sardonically. ¡°Are you breaking up with me?¡±


    ¡°The gate isn¡¯t in Canberra like you thought it was. I¡¯ve made a map and there are three cities left where it could be. Failing that, the only other locations are random islands and the entire fucking outback.¡±


    ¡°I never said that it was. I said that if I was going to put a gate somewhere, I¡¯d choose the capital city.¡± John eyed him wearily; his eyes were bloodshot and distant. Buck sighed. ¡°Can I assume that you don¡¯t have enough time left to search all three cities?¡±


    ¡°You can.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re certain it¡¯s not in the capital?¡±


    ¡°I am.¡±


    ¡°Then I can only think of three possibilities,¡± the dinosaur sighed as he slid a plate of greasy breakfast meats towards John. ¡°Option one: it¡¯s in one of those three cities you mentioned. Option two: it¡¯s somewhere completely random where you have no chance of finding it.¡±


    ¡°How motivational,¡± John commented through a mouthful of fried egg. ¡°And option three?¡±


    ¡°This one¡¯s a long shot, but a few seasons ago the showrunners trialled a free for all, PvE, gate system. That season they transported every surviving contestant and mob to the gate on the final day. It was utter carnage. Only three contestants survived. They haven¡¯t tried it again since because they need enough contestants surviving each round to make the game last long enough to get in the green. It¡¯s expensive to produce a season of Battle Royale and they get a higher return on investment the longer each season lasts.¡±


    ¡°And you think they¡¯d try that again after such a monumental failure?¡±


    ¡°Maybe?¡± He shrugged, ¡°I can¡¯t know for sure, but typically the gates are placed in easy-to-find locations. There¡¯s nothing more boring for an audience than watching their favourite contestant die simply because they couldn¡¯t find the gate to the next round. It¡¯s anticlimactic, there¡¯s no drama. It¡¯s the same reason you can¡¯t get sick in the game unless it¡¯s a debuff from a mob or card power. If you¡¯re saying that there¡¯s no gate in the capital, no gate in the majority of the cities in this place, then it stands to reason that the IPSC have something else planned.¡±


    John took a few moments to savour his mouthful of bacon as he stared idly at the diminishing food on his plate. Washing it down with small glass of bottom shelf whisky, he eventually looked up at Buck with an evil grin plastered on his face.


    ¡°If it¡¯s PvE, then I don¡¯t need to go looking for a new card do I?¡±


    ¡°For a guy who just gave up a card to save a kid, you never struck me as a murderous psychopath. Though I¡¯m sure your views would go up,¡± he said, shaking his head slightly in that disapproving way John¡¯s mum always used to. For the first time in his life, he was thankful that she¡¯d died from cancer a few years ago.


    ¡°I¡¯m not talking about murdering everyone,¡± he said, standing up forcefully. ¡°But one person who deserves it will be there for sure and I promised her that she¡¯d die the next time we met.¡±


    ¡°Hmm,¡± the dinosaur said, fiddling idly with the brim of his fedora. ¡°That¡¯s not a bad backup plan, but I wouldn¡¯t put all your eggs in one basket. We don¡¯t know for sure that it will be PvE and you still have three days left to keep searching.¡±


    ¡°Well I do have another idea, there¡¯s something on this ship I need to check out.¡±


    ***


    The area below deck was about as dark and dingey as you¡¯d expect. A rhythmic dripping sound echoed throughout the hold and John¡¯s every step cascaded in an ominous metallic clang that prevented any chance he had of subterfuge.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    A putrid fishy smell clung to the thick air, John¡¯s clothes, and the hairs in his nostrils.


    I¡¯m gonna be a social pariah for the rest of the game, he thought with a slight chuckle. Fish Boy, that¡¯s what they¡¯ll call me. Like that one guy at the office who microwaves tuna for lunch.


    He¡¯d been wondering around the cargo hold for the last hour, trying desperately to avoid the people who had made their beds down there. It was a pretty depressing place to sleep, but in times like this safety trumped comfort, so at least it was a smart choice.


    Sodden sleeping bags lined the ship¡¯s interior, lit only by the occasional flashlight or oil lamp. John wondered where they¡¯d found such old technology, but he had no intention of asking anyone. As far as he was aware, he shouldn¡¯t have even been down there.


    As he trapsed carefully through the open plan cargo hold, pressing his body closely to the rusted shipment containers held within, he finally spotted the place he was looking for.


    A bulkhead door with a single guard posted outside.


    Here goes nothing.


    Stepping out of the shadows, John marched purposefully towards the guard. An older man, bald with an unkempt beard, wearing brown leather armour and holding a loaded crossbow, blocked his path.


    ¡°Halt,¡± he said, holding out his palm. ¡°No one¡¯s allowed back here. Sorry pal. Boss¡¯ orders.¡±


    ¡°The Captain sent me,¡± John said, mustering up the most unconcerned voice he could manage. ¡°I¡¯m to interrogate the prisoner. We¡¯re making a map of all the locations people have been, trying to narrow down the location of the torii gate. Prisoner¡¯s the last person on my list.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± The guard replied, ¡°you¡¯re the new guy right? We spoke briefly last night on the bridge.¡±


    John nodded once.


    ¡°Well¡­ I¡¯m not really supposed to but if it¡¯s Captain¡¯s orders then I guess it¡¯s alright. You¡¯ve got five minutes, and don¡¯t think I won¡¯t be checking with the bossman later. Got it?¡±


    ¡°Five minutes is all I need,¡± John replied with a half-smile.


    I can¡¯t believe that actually worked!


    ¡°Really?¡± The guard grinned, ¡°I bet you¡¯re a real hit with the ladies.¡±


    New Skill:


    Acting


    Huh, John thought, that could come in handy.


    The bald guard heaved open the bulkhead door with a few difficult twists and an ear-splitting creak.


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna have to lock it behind you, knock when you¡¯re done.¡±


    John nodded his thanks and stepped into the darkness beyond. The door closed with a solid clank as the locking mechanism clicked back into place and he was left in complete blackness.


    ¡°It might take a few minutes for your eyes to adjust,¡± a distinctly feminine and alluring voice called out sweetly. ¡°To what do I owe the pleasure?¡±


    Digging around in his duster¡¯s right pocket, John pulled out a flashlight he¡¯d liberated from one of the nearby sleeping bags. ¡°Why are you in here?¡± He asked, flicking the switch and shinning a spotlight through the nearby jailcell bars.


    Holding up a pale hand against the sudden influx of light, a stunningly beautiful woman in a 1920¡¯s style red dress gazed back at him. Her slender waist was accented by her bust and she wore a slightly loose garter on each leg. Had she been using them as holsters for some kind of weapon?


    ¡°If you don¡¯t already know that, then I¡¯m guessing you¡¯re not supposed to be in here,¡± she replied, slowly lowering her hand from her face as she got used to the dazzling torchlight. ¡°Who exactly are you?¡±


    ¡°The guy asking the questions here,¡± John shot back. ¡°And the guy holding a gun.¡±


    His revolver materialised in his free hand and he pointed it loosely at the woman. The runes that were etched into the barrel were unlit, but she wouldn¡¯t know what that meant.


    ¡°Got any smokes?¡± She asked, seemingly unphased by the pistol. She strutted across the cell, hips swaying purposefully, and took a seat on a cold-looking metal bench which was attached to the wall by two rusted chains. Crossing her legs, she leaned forward resting her chin on her hand, slender fingers and painted nails curling around her lower lip.


    ¡°And just where would you expect a guy to find cigarettes in the apocalypse?¡±


    ¡°Inside pretty much any store on the planet,¡± she replied, rolling her eyes. ¡°You look like a smoker, but if you don¡¯t want to share then I guess I¡¯ll have to go without.¡±


    ¡°You still haven¡¯t answered my question.¡±


    ¡°That makes two of us,¡± she smiled, though it didn¡¯t reach her piercing, discerning eyes. ¡°That¡¯s a pretty interesting card you¡¯ve got there. Summoning a gun, I bet that comes in handy.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s kept me alive so far,¡± John replied, taking a step closer to the bars, revolver trained on the irritating woman. ¡°What kind of cards do you have?¡±


    ¡°Only an idiot shows her hand before the flop.¡±


    ¡°I could just kill you and take them, if The Captain locked you up in here I doubt he¡¯d be too upset.¡±


    ¡°If you were going to do that we wouldn¡¯t be having this conversation now, would we? I¡¯ll happily tell you whatever it is you want to know, but first you¡¯ll have to do a little something for me,¡± she twiddled a curl in her hair with a single finger.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have the key-¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not that,¡± she interjected. ¡°I want you to kill The Captain. Bring me his head and I¡¯ll know the deed is done. Then we can get off this rust bucket together, or we can go our separate ways. I don¡¯t really care which.¡±


    John paused for a moment. He kinda liked The Captain, and since his goal was simply to acquire another card, if he was going to kill the guy then he could simply pilfer his cards. No, playing into the whims of this femme fatale wasn¡¯t the right call.


    ¡°I¡¯d back myself in a fight,¡± he said with an exaggerated sigh. ¡°But I doubt I can sneak a dude¡¯s head past eleven carded adults. What if I bring you something easier to hide? That way I can kill him quietly and we can get out of here before anyone realises what¡¯s happened.¡±


    The woman began to smile, but it quickly petered out as if she¡¯d caught her poker face slipping and corrected it consciously. She took a few minutes to think about John¡¯s request, winding her thick curls tightly around her index finger.


    ¡°His machete,¡± she eventually said. ¡°He never takes the damned thing off. He even sleeps with it. There¡¯s no way you could get it without offing him. Bring me that and we have a deal.¡±

 Chapter 41 – Bullets And Bedroom Eyes Don’t Make for Good Bedfellows

    Lighting up a cigarette from a half-crushed packet he¡¯d found back at the gas station, John opened the bulkhead door leading to the bridge.


    The apocalypse is a great time indulge old habits, he thought, exhaling through his nose. If Anne could see me now.


    ¡°Boss, are you smoking?¡± Truffle exclaimed in an appalled voice. ¡°Put that disgusting thing out right now. The Mistress would throw a fit if she could see you, and after all the work she put into helping you quit. It¡¯s a filthy habit you reprobate.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t realise you were still here,¡± John sighed, taking a long drag before docking it out on the wall and returning it, face up, into the packet. He¡¯d starting smoking during basic, but he¡¯d quit not long after he and Anne got married and moved into their apartment. His wife hated the smell of cigarettes and she was like a bloodhound. She could always tell when he sneaked one. Eventually he¡¯d just quit all together.


    The Captain laid back in one of the leather chairs with his feet up on the map table and his arms hanging loosely at his side. His head was tipped back with the brim of a black, leather Stetson pulled down over his eyes.


    He didn¡¯t have that earlier.


    ¡°Find what you were looking for?¡± He said without looking up.


    Not really,¡± John sighed, leaning against the wall with a single leg bent up against it. ¡°I like your hat.¡±


    ¡°Take it,¡± he said, tossing it like a frisbee towards John who caught it lazily. ¡°It¡¯s more your style anyway. I¡¯ve always preferred a good old fashioned ball cap.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, I¡¯ll keep an eye out for one.¡±


    New Item Acquired:


    Gunslinger¡¯s Stetson (uncommon):


    This timeless piece of headgear harkens back to a bygone era where men were men and even the deadliest plague could be cured by a bottle of Tennessee¡¯s finest. Though it won¡¯t do much for your accuracy, this stunning item will make you quite the intimidating presence in the local bar scene.


    Now available in black, brown, or stallion white!


    ¡°Are you sure I can have this?¡± John asked after examining the system¡¯s sales pitch. ¡°It¡¯s an uncommon item.¡±


    ¡°Sure, I don¡¯t need an item to increase my intimidation. I¡¯ve got these for that,¡± he lifted his arms, flexing a swan pose and laughed.


    John smiled at him, tipping his hat in The Captain¡¯s direction. ¡°Much obliged.¡±


    The two laughed even harder and The Captain nearly fell out of his chair, swinging his arms in circles to persuade the upended legs to fall forwards instead of backwards.


    ¡°How was your talk with my prisoner?¡± He asked, a sudden chill wafting through the bridge.


    ¡°She asked me to kill you,¡± John replied, keeping his eyes glued to the man¡¯s hands.


    ¡°Well, John Doe, I¡¯m right here,¡± he said, leaning back and raising them in mock surrender. ¡°Take your best shot.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t kill him Boss!¡± Truffle squealed, looking up at John with wide eyes. ¡°He¡¯s my friend now, we¡¯ve been talking for hours. I told him about Mistress Anne, he¡¯s going to help us. Besides, I can¡¯t sail a ship, can you sail a ship? Because if not then we¡¯ll get stuck on the ocean and-¡±


    ¡°Relax Truffle,¡± John interrupted with a laugh and a raised palm, ¡°I have no intention of killing him. What kinda guy do you take me for? I would like to ask a favour though.¡±


    ¡°Another one?¡± The Captain replied with a raised eyebrow. ¡°Your last favour kept me up all damned night talking to a pig like a madman. I¡¯m starting to think you only want me for my favours. Where¡¯s the love?¡±


    ¡°I need to borrow your machete. That prisoner of yours said she¡¯d only answer my questions if I proved that I¡¯d killed you. She asked me to bring her your head at first, but I managed to persuade her to accept something else as proof instead.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± He asked, leaning forward and clenching his fists together, elbows rested on the table. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to get her to talk for days.¡±


    ¡°What about?¡±


    ¡°Oh you know, the usual. Where are you from? What cards do you have? Why did you fuck me and then try to kill me in my sleep?¡±


    ¡°Mistress Anne used to call it making love,¡± Truffle said, looking between the two men. ¡°Fucking is only for sluts and skanks. A proper lady makes love. That¡¯s what she said.¡±


    ¡°Good job I¡¯m not a proper lady then,¡± The Captain retorted with a half grin.


    ¡°I¡¯d be lying if I said I couldn¡¯t see the appeal,¡± John said. ¡°But as far as end of the world architypes go, her¡¯s is pretty obvious. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if her gamertag was Black Widow or Praying Mantis, or something.¡±


    ¡°Yeah well, there¡¯s not all that many fish in the sea these days and being thrown into a death game can be quite the aphrodisiac,¡± unsheathing his machete, he tossed it carefully over the table to John, who caught it by the scratched, black handle. ¡°I¡¯ll be needing that back.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a card power?¡± John hadn¡¯t believed him when he¡¯d denied it earlier. After his fight with Baz he was sceptical when anyone spoke of their own cards. He¡¯d learnt his lesson that day and he didn¡¯t plan on getting tricked the same way twice.


    ¡°Nope, I told you that already. It¡¯s just a regular old machete. I found it in this very room on my first day in this damned game. To be honest, I barely even use it anymore. It¡¯s more of a good luck charm than anything, and it comes in handy when I need to lay down the law with the folks on board.¡±


    ¡°I guess I¡¯ll be off then,¡± John replied, tipping his hat once more. ¡°Talk about a fetch quest.¡±


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ***


    The machete clattered to the ground, skidding across the metal floor and banging lightly against the jailcell bars.


    ¡°It¡¯s done,¡± John said, his outstretched hand lingering just a little bit longer than was usually appropriate for a throw.


    ¡°My, my,¡± the woman said, gazing leisurely at the discarded weapon. ¡°Aren¡¯t you the man of action.¡±


    ¡°Talk. I¡¯ve held up my end of the bargain, now it¡¯s your turn.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes,¡± she sighed, flippantly waving a hand to the side. ¡°I see that patience isn¡¯t a virtue you possess. Well, go on then, ask your questions. And could you quit shining that light in my face, it¡¯s doing nothing for my complexion.¡±


    ¡°Who are you?¡± He asked, lowering the flashlight to the space just in front of her. In the pitch-black room it was still enough to light up most of the cell.


    ¡°My player name is Selina Kyle.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a little on the nose isn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Well Harleen Quinzel and Pamela Isley were already taken when I got through the gate,¡± she shrugged. ¡°But I guess the third time was the charm, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡±


    ¡°Do I even need to ask why you¡¯re in here?¡± John sighed. Of course, he knew what had happened between Selina and The Captain, but he didn¡¯t want her to know that.


    ¡°I used my feminine wiles to seduce that awful Captain, though it didn¡¯t take much. But he woke up before I could finish the job, and now I¡¯m in here.¡±


    Choosing a name like that from the off would suggest that she¡¯d planned to kill like this from the start, John pondered thoughtfully. What kind of psychopath does that? I mean, I get survival of the fittest, but we chose our names before we even knew the rules.


    ¡°Why did you try to kill him?¡± John asked after a moment¡¯s pause. ¡°You could have just joined him if you wanted protection.¡±


    ¡°Protection?¡± She laughed shrilly, ¡°I wanted his cards.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s so special about his cards?¡±


    ¡°You mean you killed him and you didn¡¯t even take them? Amateur,¡± she spat. ¡°They didn¡¯t take mine when they locked me up in here either, so I¡¯m guessing that it¡¯s not common knowledge that you can steal cards. Take this little tidbit as a bonus for a job well done cowboy. Until a person acquires all four cards, you can reach into their chest and extract them. I¡¯ve heard it¡¯s quite painful though.¡±


    Bingo! John thought, so she does still have her cards. Though it seems that she¡¯s forgotten that I already threatened to take hers in our last little chat. Either that or she wants me to think that she¡¯s forgotten.


    ¡°As for why I wanted his cards in particular,¡± she continued. ¡°It¡¯s simply because they synergise well with mine.¡± John raised an eyebrow and she shot back a scathing look of incredulity. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna play my entire hand, you still haven¡¯t even let me out of here yet.¡±


    ¡°Tell me what your card does and I¡¯ll tell you where I stashed the body,¡± John shot back calmly.


    She smiled, black lip gloss shimmering in the torchlight. Looking up at him with large, round eyes, she blinked a few times, batting her eyelashes.


    ¡°I¡¯m starting to like you cowboy, have you thought any more on our little team up?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not opposed to it per say,¡± John lied, drawing on his new acting skill. ¡°But what¡¯s in it for me. You¡¯re clearly a capable woman, but your method of killing doesn¡¯t exactly match up with my own. Bullets and bedroom eyes don¡¯t make for good bedfellows.¡±


    ¡°Bonnie and Clyde made it work,¡± she shrugged, ¡°think about it.¡±


    John nodded, thoughtfully crossing his arms and fiddling with the rim of his hat. ¡°Perhaps if I knew a little more about you I¡¯d be able to make more of an informed decision.¡±


    ¡°I usually let my body do the talking when it comes to intimacy,¡± she said, looking at him through her eyelids.


    ¡°I¡¯m married,¡± he replied, holding up his left hand, his wedding ring glinting in the torchlight.


    ¡°So am I, but in light of recent events I don¡¯t think wedding vows hold much weight anymore.¡±


    ¡°Then we¡¯ll have to agree to disagree. I meant it when I took my vows.¡±


    ¡°Ooh, how righteous you are,¡± she said playfully. ¡°Well alright then, fine. I¡¯ll tell you about my card, but only if you tell me about yours first.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s not much to tell, as you¡¯ve already seen, it lets me summon a single revolver into my hand at will. It has unlimited ammo, and so far it¡¯s never had a blockage. That¡¯s it.¡±


    ¡°Must be a common weapon card,¡± she sighed, immediately looking disinterested. ¡°Well, fair is fair I suppose. My card is called Sweaty Aphrodisiac, it does what it says on the tin. My sweat takes on the scent of whatever smell is most alluring to whomever I¡¯m talking to. It¡¯s a psychosomatic card, I doubt it¡¯d be useful to you.¡±


    You can say that again.


    ¡°So what? If I don¡¯t keep my distance I¡¯ll be overcome with lust?¡± He said sceptically.


    ¡°Pretty much,¡± she replied, ¡°though so far it¡¯s only seemed to work on people who don¡¯t see me as a threat.¡±


    ¡°So you dress like that to get a guy to lower his guard so your card will make him do your bidding? I¡¯ve got to admit that¡¯s pretty clever.¡±


    ¡°Or a girl, I¡¯m not overly picky these days. But no, I dress like this because the apocalypse is no reason to let one¡¯s dress standards slide. If I could die at any moment, I at least want to make a pretty corpse.¡±


    Truffle would love this girl.


    ¡°What does your other card do?¡± He asked slyly.


    ¡°What makes you think I have another card?¡±


    ¡°You said The Captain¡¯s cards synergised with your own. That sweaty aphrodisiac card doesn¡¯t sound like it¡¯d go very well with whatever he has.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t know what cards he has,¡± she smiled slyly, twiddling her hair between her fingers as she slowly looked John up and down. ¡°But alright, I¡¯ll tell you. My other card is called vampire¡¯s kiss.¡± She continued to explain how it worked and John nodded along.


    As soon as she had finished he would take them both from her. The second card was quite good, but he didn¡¯t want to use it if he didn¡¯t have to. It wouldn¡¯t work too well with his own cards. Honestly, he still wasn¡¯t sure that it really did synergise with The Captain¡¯s cards. John didn¡¯t know what the man had under the hood, but he doubted it was anything like that.


    I guess I¡¯d better take her cards and be done with it. Maybe I can trade it at the kiosk for something better.


    Taking another step forward, John pulled his gun out of his inventory and aimed it at the jailcell lock.


    ¡°You know if you do that, the whole ship will hear right?¡± Selina said quickly, standing up and dashing towards him. ¡°Do you really wanna fight your way out of here? There¡¯s nowhere to go, we¡¯re at sea.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take my chances,¡± John said, pulling the trigger.


    A bullet flew from the barrel, snapping the rudimentary padlock which clattered to the ground. The sound of the shot was amplified by the fact that they were in a metal box and John¡¯s ears rang violently. One of these days he was going to have to invest in a pair of ear defenders.


    As he reached for the cell door, suddenly the ship lurched violently and he was thrown to the side. The cell door slammed open and, looking up, he realised that he was laying on the wall.


    ¡°What the shit!¡± He yelled, due to the hearing loss. It appeared the ship had turned entirely on its side. ¡°What the fuck is going on?¡±


    The bulkhead door crashed open and John looked to see the guard hanging onto the wheel handle as he struggled to pull himself through the doorway.


    ¡°We¡¯re under attack!¡± He yelled, ¡°we need to get off this ship!¡±


    ¡°No shit, Sherlock,¡± Selina growled back angrily, her hair was a mess, but she¡¯d wasted no time. Using the bars of her cell as a ladder, she nimbly climbed towards the open cell door.


    ¡°Why¡¯d you let her out?¡± The guard asked, trying to grab at his crossbow as he struggled to hold onto the bulkhead door.


    ¡°We¡¯ll discuss that later,¡± John shouted, already attempting to scale the metal wall and reach the bulkhead. ¡°Right now we need to get topside.¡±


    ¡°Uh, sure,¡± the guard said hesitantly. ¡°Come with me.¡±


    Selina leaped elegantly from the bars to the bulkhead whilst John climbed awkwardly up the side of the slippery metal wall. Thankfully it wasn¡¯t much of a jump to reach the bulkhead and he pulled himself up.


    Looking over the other side, he saw that the cargo bay was a complete mess, and that it was letting in water at an alarming rate.


    Shipping containers were strewn all over the place and what little light had been in the room was all but gone thanks to the torrents of water which rushed in from the right-hand side, which was now below them.


    ¡°How are we going to get out of here?¡± The guard asked, still clinging to the door handle. ¡°All the stairs are on the left, which is to say, they¡¯re on the roof now.¡±


    ¡°Boss! Grab on!¡±


    Looking upwards, John saw light cascading down from an open door on the roof; connected to a now horizontal metal stairway.


    An obscenely long rope dropped down into the water a few meters across from them and John looked once again to see Agnes with a pulley attached to her wheelchair.


    ¡°That thing¡¯s like a Swiss army knife,¡± he muttered.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got you, deary. Don¡¯t you worry,¡± she called down cheerfully.


    ¡°You heard the lady,¡± he shouted to the guard and Selina. ¡°We¡¯ve gotta jump for it.¡±

 Chapter 42 – The Emperor Strikes Back

    Once topside, or side-side since the ship had been turned over, John stood on the outer wall of the bridge where he had spent the previous day mapping possible portal locations with The Captain.


    Behind him was the ship¡¯s deck and to his front was a choppy ocean. He could already see a few life rafts filled with children and a few of the adult members of The Orphans of The Apocalypse as they desperately attempted to flee.


    More startlingly, a humongous penguin towered over them, an island behind it. Even submerged, the penguin¡¯s frame seemed to reach the sky.


    ¡°What the hell,¡± John said, crouching down slightly to steady himself against the bobbing ship. ¡°Since when are there penguins in Australia? This is bullshit.¡±


    ¡°No, this is bullshit,¡± Selina growled through gritted teeth, her hair blowing violently in the wind. She gestured towards The Captain who was very much alive and pointing a loaded shotgun directly at her chest. ¡°You lied to me! This wasn¡¯t the deal. He¡¯s supposed to be dead!¡±


    ¡°I guess you¡¯ve failed to pull that off on two accounts now, huh?¡± The Captain said through a self-satisfied grin.


    ¡°Do we really have time to do this now?¡± John asked, frustration apparent in his voice as he drew his twin revolvers.


    ¡°So you lied about your card too?¡± Selina spat, glaring at him through the tops of her eyes, ¡°you¡¯re a real class act cowboy, you know that? This is why I hate men, you¡¯re all the same. You¡¯re a lying, cheating, son of a bitch. Just like my husband.¡±


    ¡°Will you shut up?¡± John yelled, ¡°we¡¯ve got much bigger problems right now. Besides, if it wasn¡¯t for me you¡¯d be drowning in that cell right now. I saved your life. You owe me.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s right, deary,¡± Agnes said calmly, rolling towards Selina and offering her a piece of hard candy. ¡°We can talk about all this after we murder that unseemly bird.¡±


    Well folks, it looks like we have another battle on our hands! A.J¡¯s voice boomed out across the open ocean and The Captain began looking around, trying to find the source.


    ¡°Where the hell did that come from?¡± He asked, straining against the anti-movement effect that always seemed to happen at the beginning of a challenge. ¡°And why can¡¯t I move?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s A.J,¡± Truffle replied. ¡°You get used to him. He¡¯s the funny talk show host that does the commentary on the big battles in the game. I like him. He always calls John, my dear. It¡¯s funny because his last name is Doe.¡±


    ¡°Hilarious,¡± Selina muttered sarcastically.


    ¡°It¡¯s always like this,¡± John added and Agnes nodded her agreement, clearly having participated in challenges herself. The Captain¡¯s reaction did, however, leave John wondering how he¡¯d gotten his cards if he¡¯d never taken part in a challenge or boss battle. He was pretty certain that A.J did the commentary for all of them.


    It¡¯s been quite some time since we¡¯ve seen a good ol¡¯ fashioned boss battle. For all you folks watching at home, here¡¯s a little run down of the major players involved.


    INNNNN THIS CORNER, weighing in at a little over 700 pounds and coming in at a whopping 234 feet tall. It¡¯s THE EMPEROR!


    Cheering rumbled all around them, though John wasn¡¯t sure if it was just a fake audience effect to make everything more entertaining for alien viewership.


    Facing off against The Emperor today is quite the party of contestants, folks. Firstly, we have The Orphans of The Apocalypse headed by one Beverly_Jones aka The Captain.


    ¡°Wait, your real name is Beverly?¡± Truffle gasped, looking up at The Captain whose face was turning redder by the second.


    ¡°I guess that explains his insistence on using a moniker,¡± John chuckled, flashing an impish grin at the man.


    ¡°Fuck you,¡± he replied quietly.


    Joining Beverly are Horati-OH and the gatling gun granny who needs no introduction¡­ A.S.S Kicker!


    The cheering got even louder but John barely registered it as he turned towards Agnes, open mouthed.


    ¡°Your player name is Ass Kicker?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right, deary,¡± she smiled. ¡°Those are my initials. My full name is Agnes Sabrina Sanderson-Kicker. My husband, god rest his soul, was James Kicker but my father insisted I double barrel my name because there were no men in our family to carry it on.¡±


    ¡°Wow,¡± Truffle said contemplatively. ¡°It¡¯s like she was born for this game.¡±


    John blinked a few times as he continued to stare at the old woman.


    People¡¯s lives are weird.


    ¡°Horati-OH?¡± Selina asked, looking around before settling her eyes on the guard. He was the only one whose name we didn¡¯t know.


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± he began, sheepishly scratching the back of his head with his hand. ¡°My real name is Horatio Delgato, Horatio-OH is the gamertag I chose. Same one I used on Call of Duty back in the day.¡±


    ¡°I never knew gamers could be so buff,¡± she said, shooting him a flirtatious wink.


    I¡¯m gonna have to keep an eye on her, John thought. With those cards of hers she could turn half the group to her side in no time flat. Maybe I should have left her in the cell.


    A.J¡¯s commentary continued.


    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    Joining them are two contestants you all should know pretty well by now. The enigmatic winner of this season¡¯s opening tournament and the most recent guest on my show, John Doe! He will be accompanied by O.R.C¡¯s favourite child, Truffffllllle.


    ¡°When the hell did you win a tournament?¡± The Captain asked incredulously, ¡°and what the fuck is O.R.C?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a long story,¡± John replied.


    ¡°Ooh,¡± Truffle squealed, ¡°I¡¯ll have to tell you about it some time. It was magnificent!¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t wait,¡± The Captain sighed.


    We have just one contestant left in this fight, or at least she¡¯s the only one left worth shouting out individually. It¡¯s Selina Kyle! This black widow shot to prominence right at the start of Battle Royale when she shocked audiences across the cosmos with her succulent style of sexual murder.


    But will she play nice with the others after they imprisoned her? Or will she try to make a play of her own? All I know is, I can¡¯t wait to find out!


    As A.J began wrapping up his opening announcement, John found himself grimacing at the life rafts below as they bobbed innocently on the choppy sea.


    ¡°Our top priority in this fight needs to be getting the kids to the island,¡± he said sternly, The Captain and Grandma nodded their agreement.


    Before we start the fight though, a little background information for all you lovely folks watching at home. You may have noticed that just a few moments ago contestant John Doe incorrectly stated that there aren¡¯t any penguins in Australia.


    Well my lovely little viewers, I¡¯m here to tell you that¡¯s completely and utterly WRONG. You see, that land formation behind The Emperor is a little place known as Kangaroo Island and, despite what the name might suggest, it¡¯s actually home to Flinder¡¯s Chase National Park. A place famous for its penguin colonies and striking coastal rock formations¡­ or at least that¡¯s what the brochure says.


    ¡°Did he really just take the time to correct me?¡± John muttered.


    I certainly did John, my dear. I simply can¡¯t abide the spreading of misinformation to my beautiful viewers. I have a reputation to uphold you know.


    ¡°Go fuck yourself A.J.¡±


    Now, now, play nice. You don¡¯t want those precious little kids down there repeating your foul language now do you?


    ¡°The next time I see that guy I¡¯m gonna punch him right in his smug face,¡± John grumbled and Truffle nodded enthusiastically.


    ¡°That¡¯ll make for great viewing Boss, your ratings will go through the roof.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not the reason why Truffle.¡±


    Before A.J could announce the start of the fight, a quest popped up in John¡¯s interface.


    New Quest:


    The Emperor Strikes Back.


    Objective:


    Kill The Emperor (penguin) 0/1


    Reward:


    X300 shards (this reward will only be given to the person who strikes the killing blow)


    How devious, John thought as he noticed the others also reading the quest.


    The Captain looked a little concerned and John wondered if he¡¯d come to a similar realisation. 300 shards were triple the going rate for a normal quest. Anyone who was saving up for their last card wouldn¡¯t be able to pass up this opportunity. Including John.


    Alrighty then folks, let the slaughter begin in three, two, one.


    As time unfroze a series of actions were taken simultaneously.


    Selina dived towards Horati-OH, grabbing him by the collar and planting one right on his lips. The guard looked shocked for a moment, but then relaxed and his eyes began to glaze over.


    She whispered something to him and he raised his crossbow and began firing at John and the others. The crossbow itself seemed to be automatic and, like John¡¯s revolvers, it appeared to have infinite ammo.


    Arrows fired from the crossbow, bouncing off the metal wall of the ship¡¯s bridge that they were all standing on and forcing all of them to scatter lest they be turned into shish kababs.


    As this was happening, but before Horatio-OH open fired on them, John and Grandma seemed to have the same idea. The two of them open fired on the penguin which screeched a deafening cry and its harsh eyes focused on the two of them.


    Lifting its flipper, the kaiju stomped the flat of its sole into the ocean causing a massive wave to rush towards the boat, obscuring the bottom half of the penguin from view.


    Meanwhile, Truffle dived off the ship and into the water, doggy paddling ¨C or rather, piggy paddling ¨C towards the closest raft. John hadn¡¯t pre-agreed this move with the teacup pig but he was too busy shooting at The Emperor to do anything about it.


    Finally, The Captain, being the only one to notice Selina¡¯s deviousness in time, turned his shotgun on her and fired off a buck shot. The ship was still wobbling though and his shell went wide, just clipping the side of her ear as a small stream on blood drizzled from her lobe.


    ¡°What the fuck!¡± John shouted as he dived to the side, narrowly avoiding a chain of arrows which Horati-OH had fired at him. It had to be Selina¡¯s second card.


    Looking towards the wave, he gritted his teeth and returned fire at the guard who ducked and picked up Selina in a fireman¡¯s hold over one shoulder.


    ¡°You treacherous fuck!¡± The Captain yelled, firing off a few more shells and missing.


    I guess this is what they call post-nut clarity, A.J¡¯s voice rang out, followed by audience laughter.


    Horati-OH ran in the opposite direction to the other contestants as Selina cackled maniacally over his shoulder. Without a second thought, he leaped from the side of the ship and disappeared from sight. The Captain started to chase him but then thought better of it, staring up at the inexorable tidal wave which threatened to swallow them whole.


    ¡°We need to get off this thing before we get flattened!¡± John shouted, dismissing his revolvers and preparing to jump after Truffle.


    ¡°What about Agnes?¡± The Captain yelled back, trying desperately to be heard over the overbearing fuzz sound the wave was causing, ¡°she can¡¯t swim.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t you worry about me deary,¡± she said with a crazy smile. ¡°I¡¯ve got rockets. KAWABUNGA!¡± She yelled with a witch¡¯s cackle as the rockets on the side of her wheelchair suddenly exploded into life.


    Leaving nothing but blackened, burning tyre tracks behind her. She shot off the side of the ship, flying towards the island.


    ¡°How the hell is she gonna land?¡± John asked.


    ¡°How the fuck should I know?¡± The Captain replied, ¡°we need to worry about ourselves right now.¡±


    He was right and John knew it. Holding his nose, he nodded at his new friend and took a running jump, leaping from the side of the ship.


    Hitting the water with a relatively streamlined pencil dive, John shot underneath the waves, his breath leaving him.


    It was hard to tell which way was up as he spun around in the artificial current, the wave presumably reaching the ship and causing quite the predicted catastrophe.


    At first John flailed, fighting against the current as he desperately slapped his arms through the water. He needed to reach the surface; he needed to get some air back into his lungs.


    They burned.


    It felt like his chest was on fire as he fought against his natural instinct to breathe and kept his mouth closed. The human body needed oxygen to make muscles move. Every stroke John tried to take felt heavier than the last as his oxygen starved body began to shut down.


    The edges of his vision began to blacken, not that his stinging eyes could see much under the waves anyway. Then he remembered something he¡¯d be told when he was a kid. His father had mentioned it one time when they were at the beach. It was weird how childhood memories could come rushing back at the most desperate of times. Don¡¯t fight the ocean kid, if you¡¯re not sure which way is up and you¡¯re stuck under water, you¡¯d better just do nothing ya here? People float, so let nature take its course.


    His dad had been a strange man. The outdoorsy type, a drinker, a smoker, a complete and utter bastard. But if there was one thing he was always right about it was survival stuff.


    With no other options, John trusted the memory and stopped trying to swim and his vision faded slowly to black.

 Chapter 43 – Mark My Words

    John opened his eyes with a start, gasping and spluttering as his abdominal muscles contracted violently. Thrown autonomously into a seated position he coughed so hard he thought a lung might shoot out of his mouth. Water flooded from his lungs like a faucet, his eyes and nose streamed as he fought desperately to breathe again.


    As most of the water left him, he found himself bent over on his hands and knees in the sand hacking up what little salty sea water remained in his respiratory system. He felt awful. His chest ached, his body felt cold and he could barely see through the blurry tears which warped his eyes.


    But he was alive, and that was all that mattered.


    After he finally caught his breath and rubbed sandy hands over his face to fix his obscured vision, he took a moment to look around.


    He was situated on a small stretch of beach, a small sign saying Sandy Beach stood behind him. His heart jumped as he realised how lucky he had been. Up and down the coast, as far as the eye could see, were cliff faces and rock formations. Somehow, he¡¯d had the good fortune to wash up on this tiny beach instead of being dashed against the rocks.


    I hope the others were this lucky, he thought, pushing down the impending feeling of doom which pressured his chest.


    Further along the coast The Emperor was splashing about angrily in the water. John could hear the firing of guns but he couldn¡¯t see where they were coming from. Presumably someone was in the midst of trying to kill the massive penguin and it wasn¡¯t best pleased about it.


    The ship was turned completely on its side and now that he had an outside view of the vessel he understood why it hadn¡¯t completely capsized. It looked like, when The Emperor launched its first attack it had pushed their boat onto a shallow rock formation. Roughly half the ship was submerged but the rest was above water, albeit on its side.


    John stood up on shaky legs. He needed to get moving and the best chance of finding other survivors was going to be joining the boss fight.


    Leaving the beach, he headed towards The Emperor.


    ***


    Truffle¡¯s head hurt.


    Dazedly he looked towards the upended life raft and saw bodies strewn across the cliff face they¡¯d landed on. It was a hard landing and his eyes widened as he saw the children laying there. Unmoving.


    ¡°No, you can¡¯t be dead,¡± he said in a light, broken voice.


    His eyes landed on the little girl with the robot limbs. Her name was Lilia, she¡¯d told him as much on their ride towards the ship. Leaning in delicately, he nudged her body with his snout. ¡°Hey, Lilia, it¡¯s time to wake up.¡±


    He nudged her again and this time she shrugged him off.


    ¡°I don¡¯t wanna go to school mummy.¡±


    ¡°Lilia!¡± He squealed, ¡°you¡¯re ok. Thank the Mistress.¡±


    The little girl stirred and rolled towards him, opening her eyes in a daze. She seemed alright, though her body was bruised and she had a few cuts. But she was alive.


    ¡°Truffle?¡± She asked, ¡°where are we?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, but we made it out of the water.¡±


    That was all thanks to the teacup pig¡¯s quick thinking. As soon as time had unfrozen he¡¯d dived into the water and boarded the closest life raft. Using his Pig Squeal power he blasted a sonic boom at the water¡¯s surface and skyrocketed the raft away from the tidal wave. That was the last thing he remembered before waking up on the cliffs. He had no idea what had happened to John and the others but his Boss was a resourceful man and he was sure he''d be just fine.


    I told Boss this power was worth keeping, he thought smugly.


    ***


    John rushed towards the sound of gun fire, a cacophony of war-like sounds drifting towards him on the calm breeze. Up ahead he made out four figures, only one of them was firing at the penguin.


    Agnes, looking mostly unscathed from her suicidal rocket-propelled escape, fired endless streams of rounds at The Emperor. The penguin screeched in an unnaturally deep voice, for a penguin, and thrashed about in the water like a moody teenager.


    Luckily for the old woman, the kaiju was so enormous that it seemed to lack basic agility. It moved slowly as it tried to turn away from the ship and towards the coast.


    As Agnes continued her onslaught, three other figures dived and zigzagged around as they fired at each other. Selina, who had somehow gotten hold of one of those tiny little guns that prostitutes used in the old west, was clinging to Horati-OH¡¯s back and using him as human shield as she manoeuvred herself, firing wildly at The Captain.


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    It would have been comical if it wasn¡¯t the worst possible time for infighting. An intrusive thought broke into John¡¯s skull as he approached, imagining the scene before him unfolding to the Benny Hill theme tune.


    ¡°What the hell are you three doing,¡± he shouted, running up behind The Captain with his own weapons drawn. ¡°You can kill each other later, first we need to deal with that thing!¡±


    ¡°Screw you cowboy,¡± Selina called back, firing off another shot from behind her human shield. ¡°Pingu is your problem, I¡¯m only here for revenge.¡±


    ¡°Revenge?¡± The Captain shouted incredulously as he fired off a shotgun blast. ¡°That¡¯s my line you harpy. You slept with me and then tried to kill me, what did you want me to do, throw you a parade?¡±


    ¡°I wanted your card!¡± She fired back, ¡°and with Horatio¡¯s help I¡¯ll have it!¡±


    ¡°ENOUGH!¡± John shouted, rage taking over as he subconsciously drew on his locate weakness skill and fired off three shots, deftly hitting each of their weapons and forcing them out of their hands.


    Skill Unlocked:


    Trick Shooting.


    ¡°If you three don¡¯t quit acting like children I¡¯ll kill you all myself. Now how about you all take a deep fucking breath and come help me and Grandma take down this penguin before we¡¯re all turned into mulch.¡±


    ¡°Woah dude, calm down,¡± The Captain said raising his hands in surrender. ¡°We¡¯ll help you, no need to get so pissy about it.¡±


    ¡°Yeah Cowboy,¡± Selina added reluctantly. ¡°We¡¯ll help you. I guess I owe you that much for rescuing me. But don¡¯t think this is over.¡±


    ¡°You can bet on it,¡± The Captain replied, his voice icy and low. ¡°I have no intention of letting you waltz out of here with Horatio enthralled like that. But it can wait¡­ for now.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± John said, his voice returning to its normal volume and intensity. ¡°Now, I have a plan but it¡¯s a bit of a risky one.¡±


    ***


    Truffle¡¯s heart lightened as he woke up the last kid, a boy called Charlie who was at the slaughterhouse when he, John, and Grandma had rescued the victims there.


    Somehow, every child on the life raft had survived. The only casualty was a woman who the pig didn¡¯t recognise. She seemed to be uncarded and weaponless and her head was tilted at an odd angle. It appeared that she had died from being too tall. When the life raft landed upside down on the cliff, the full weight of the thing had crushed her head.


    Luckily, Truffle and the kids were all too small for that as they couldn¡¯t even see over the sides of the thing. Still, they were all lucky to be alive.


    ¡°Where are the others?¡± Charlie asked after he¡¯d wiped the grit from his eyes.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Truffle said, ¡°I guess we¡¯ll have to go find them.¡±


    There were ten kids sat around the upended life raft all in various states of shock. That wasn¡¯t anything new, many of the children aboard the ship sported thousand-yard stares from whatever sick and twisted crap had happened to them previously in the game. Still, Truffle wanted desperately to help them, and to do that he needed to find John and that Field Marhsall guy.


    ¡°The big penguin looks sad,¡± Lilia said, pointing her robotic hand seaward.


    Truffle turned around and saw the beast facing the nearby cliff. Nothing was happening, no gunfire, no fighting, no real sound. But, the pig was pretty certain that if the boss penguin was staring that intently at the cliff then there was a good chance that Boss and the others were there.


    Or at least, someone was there.


    ¡°Alright kids,¡± he said in his most adult voice. ¡°I want everyone to grab the hand of the person in front and behind you. Then follow me! We¡¯re going to find Boss.¡±


    ***


    ¡°That¡¯s utterly insane!¡± Selina protested, gesticulating wildly and still placing Horatio in front of her as she spoke to the others. ¡°There¡¯s no way I¡¯m doing that.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± The Captain said thoughtfully. ¡°It¡¯s definitely going to be risky but it might work. And I can¡¯t think of anything better.¡±


    ¡°I think it¡¯s a lovely plan, deary,¡± Agnes said. John had managed to pull her away from attacking The Emperor long enough to share the details of his hair-brained scheme. Though it seemed that in that time the penguin had almost completed turning itself around to face them, so it was now or never.


    ¡°I know it¡¯s whacky, but it¡¯s the only plan we¡¯ve got,¡± John said confidently, looking each of them in the eyes in turn. ¡°Besides, we don¡¯t have any more time for planning, that thing will be facing us in less than a minute and I really don¡¯t want to find out what ridiculous powers it has firsthand.¡±


    They each met his eyes with a grim determination, or a reluctant scepticism in the case of Selina. John nodded, and the five of them turned around to face the beast, jumping into action.


    Agnes wheeled herself towards the edge of the cliff with John, The Captain, and the enthralled Horati-OH in tow. As a unit they open fired on The Emperor¡¯s left leg.


    The kaiju squealed in pain and fury as a torrent of bullets, shells, and arrows tore into its slippery skin. Blood gushed out as they focused fire on the area which John hoped was the kneecap. He wasn¡¯t certain that penguins actually had knees, but if they had legs then there had to be some kind of bone and joint under there, and that was what they aimed for.


    The Emperor thrashed and flapped its huge flipper towards them. John flicked the cylinder on his revolver and fired off a dragon¡¯s breath just in time. The flipper exploded with flames as the magnesium pellets embedded themselves into the outer layer of its armour-like skin.


    Screeching bloody murder, the penguin pulled back and its attack fell short, ripping a large chunk of stone and earth out of the side of the cliff.


    ¡°How strong is this thing?¡± The Captain yelled.


    ¡°Don¡¯t let up, we¡¯re almost there!¡± John replied, steeling his own expression. ¡°Keep firing!¡±


    It took a ridiculous amount of ammo, mostly coming from Agnes¡¯ gatling guns, to strip away the skin. But pretty soon, amidst the horrifying screeching, the white of bone could be seen underneath the ripped open skin and gushing waterfall of blood.


    ¡°Now!¡± John shouted and The Captain dropped his shotgun, which disappeared back into his inventory, and produced an RPG.


    He¡¯d told John about that handy little card whilst they¡¯d been putting together the map of potential portal locations. It was a card that allowed him to summon an RPG and fire a single shot once per week. He hoped that as it upgraded and he levelled up, its cooldown time would shorten. In that moment though, it was their best weapon against the kaiju.


    ¡°Get clear!¡± He shouted and everyone scattered taking particular care to avoid the backdraft as he squeezed the trigger.


    Smoke shot out of the back of the RPG tube as a rocket propelled grenade exploded against The Emperor¡¯s exposed kneecap.


    Bone, blood, and skin blasted away from the penguin as gore rained down and its leg pretty much disappeared as it began to topple.


    ¡°I guess we didn¡¯t need to weaken the skin after all,¡± The Captain said, as the RPG disappeared from his hands.


    ¡°You can never be too careful with these things,¡± John replied. ¡°Timber!¡±


    The group darted to the side of the cliff as the penguin toppled with a crash, its face smashing into the cliff face. Its eyes gleamed angrily as it shot a sideways glance at the group and its eyes began to shine a powerful red colour like it was charging up some kind of X-Men inspired attack.


    ¡°Lazer eyes,¡± John shouted, ¡°I knew it¡¯d have some kind of ridiculous power. You¡¯re up Selina.¡±


    ¡°Mark my words John Doe, I will kill you for making me do this.¡±

 Chapter 44 – Animal Services

    Truffle led the kids towards the cliff, near the penguin, like the Pied Piper. The children followed him, many of them looking dazed and barely present as they held each other¡¯s hands in a single file line.


    As they approached, gun fire erupted from the cliff face just ahead. Truffle recognised that sound, like a chainsaw cutting through a stone wall. Grandma Agnes was up there. He hoped Boss would be there too, but even if not at least he¡¯d found a more adulty adult to help him with the children.


    He, after all, was still a child himself.


    A resounding crash sounded out as the kids were nearly knocked from their feet by the resulting earth shuddering quake as The Emperor fell onto the cliff.


    ¡°Wait here,¡± Truffle commanded as he trotted off up the hill.


    As he reached the crest he spotted John, Agnes, The Captain, that weird guard guy, and¡­


    ¡°WHAT IS THAT LADY DOING TO THE PENGUIN!¡± He squealed in shock as his eyes were glued to the horrifying scene that played out before him. ¡°SOMEONE CALL ANIMAL SERVICES!¡±


    ***


    Hearing his faithful companion¡¯s voice, John tore his gaze away from the odd scene to see the horrified pig gazing in terror at the penguin. As per John¡¯s plan, Selina was kissing The Emperor on its exposed beak.


    Red eyes faded and began to glaze as the effect of her Vampire¡¯s Kiss card power began to take hold. It seemed that she¡¯d told John the truth about back when he¡¯d asked her in her cell. All that was left was for her to keep the penguin subdued whilst John got into place.


    Of course, that meant that he would get the killing shot, but no one else had anything powerful enough to do the trick. Not since The Captain had used his weekly rocket propelled grenade to bring it down.


    He¡¯d expected some resentment from that aspect of his plan but no one had brought it up. In all honestly, at this point, he wasn¡¯t even bothered who got the shards. He just needed that thing taken out of action and he wasn¡¯t so stupid as to fail to recognise that the entire reason the quest only gave one person a reward was to try and divide them and create infighting.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got it,¡± Selina called, out of breath.


    ¡°Good job, I¡¯ll just finish it off and-¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± she replied with an evil grin, interrupting John. ¡°Pingu, be a dear and fire a laser beam at that crusty old captain over there.¡±


    ¡°I saw that coming,¡± The Captain sighed, summoning his shotgun. ¡°I mean seriously, did anyone really think we could trust this psycho.¡±


    The Emperor¡¯s eyes began glowing red once again and Agnes activated her rockets, propelling her chair towards Truffle and the kids who were stood at the bottom of the hill leading to the clifftop.


    Skidding to a halt, she performed a perfectly executed handbrake turn, her chair facing the kaiju and Selina. Hurriedly, she began fiddling with her gatling guns. They had a cooldown on the reload and she¡¯d just used up all of her loaded ammunition on the penguin¡¯s leg.


    John, of course, had seen this coming and had already factored in a plan b, just in case. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst ¨C a moto that had stuck with him throughout most of his career.


    Jumping into action, he zipped across the battlefield towards the giant penguin, guns akimbo.


    ¡°Stop him Horatio!¡± Selina squawked, panic edging her voice as she pointed a painted nail towards the duster-clad man.


    Horati-OH levelled his crossbow at John, eyes still glazed, and began to squeeze the trigger.


    Shit, John swore in his head, he didn¡¯t have time to dodge and the thrall had him right in his sights. Spinning suddenly, he began to fall to the side as he raised his revolver towards the guard.


    There¡¯s not enough time, he¡¯s going to hit me before I can take him out.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so!¡± Truffle squealed, activating his Pig Squeal skill and sending an ear-splitting metalcore shriek in Horati-OH¡¯s direction. ¡°RHEEEE!¡±


    In an instant the enthralled man flew across the battlefield like a shopping bag in a hurricane. He fired off a stream of automatic crossbow bolts but the first one went wide and the others were caught up in the torrent of air created by Truffle¡¯s squeal.


    ¡°I thought I told you not to take the first power you found!¡± John shouted.


    ¡°The correct response is to say thank you!¡±


    Without hesitation, he jumped up from the ground and continued towards The Emperor whose eyes were glowing a menacing crimson. It was about to unleash its laser beam attack at any moment.


    There was no time to follow the original plan, John needed to improvise. Flicking the cylinder of his second revolver he drew on his locate weakness skill and the new trick shooting skill and fired off a dragon¡¯s breath round at the eye closest to them.


    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    As the penguin¡¯s face was angled mostly towards Selina, and John and The Captain were to The Emperor¡¯s right, he shot at the right eye and prayed.


    The shell exploded from the barrel, splitting into a wide arc as there was still some distance between John and the penguin. It splattered the right side of the kaiju¡¯s face which burst into flames as it screamed a horrifyingly, agonised low-pitched scream.


    Somehow the noise was even more deafening than Truffle¡¯s ability, though it didn¡¯t have the same effect.


    Magnesium pellets embedded themselves into the beast¡¯s right eye and it popped with a loud crack like a balloon, splattering viscous, clear eye fluid and runny, light orange blood all over Selina.


    Despite the damage to the right eye, there was no preventing the left eye¡¯s laser beam from firing. The world seemed to go dark as John¡¯s vision was filled with nothing but a powerful cylinder of dark red. It scorched the cliff, narrowly missing The Captain, but splitting the cliff face in two.


    With a shocked yelp, he fell into the sea followed by a pebble dash of large, jagged pieces of rock.


    ¡°Field Marshall!¡± Truffle yelled in concern. ¡°Boss, we need to help him.¡±


    ¡°One thing at a time,¡± John shouted back. Though he too, hoped The Captain was alright. He¡¯d grown quite fond of him over the past few days. ¡°I need thirty seconds!¡±


    ¡°On it deary,¡± Agnes shouted back as her gatling guns roared to life and Selina dived out of the way of the hail of bullets which crashed mercilessly into the penguin¡¯s face.


    Its beak took the brunt of the damage and that thing was like pure adamantium armour, but it was the distraction John needed most.


    Skidding to a halt, he reached down and grabbed Selina by the collar, pulling her up but keeping her at arm¡¯s length lest he open himself up to a Vampire¡¯s Kiss.


    ¡°Keep that thing still and when I say so, order it to open its beak.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you!¡±


    John cast Adamantite-lite on his index finger and swiftly jabbed her in the base of her throat. She coughed and spluttered, eyes watering.


    ¡°Open its beak!¡±


    ¡°Ok, ok,¡± she gasped, tears leaking from her eyes and a look of pure terror on her face. ¡°I got what I wanted anyway; you don¡¯t need to hurt me. We can work together on this. The Captain is dead.¡±


    ¡°Just do what I ask and we¡¯ll sort the rest out later.¡±


    She nodded weakly, likely knowing that he had no intention of working with her¡­ or letting her live.


    John could feel the effects of her Sweaty Aphrodisiac card tickling at his senses. He felt oddly aroused around her, but it wasn¡¯t enough to make him sympathetic to her plight. It must have been because he was aware of it. She had said that it only worked on people who didn¡¯t see her as a threat, and right now that was exactly what she was. The biggest threat to his plan, the biggest threat to all of them, other than The Emperor.


    Checking his interface, John saw that his cooldown time was about to be up.


    ¡°Do it now!¡± He shouted and Grandma ceased firing.


    ¡°Open your beak for mommy Pingu,¡± Selina said in a sickeningly sweat voice, the kind that lonely old people used when speaking to their designer pets which they never seemed to train and treated like spoiled newborn babies.


    As commanded, The Emperor opened its beak and John let go of Selina.


    ¡°Keep him still,¡± he said in a low, threatening voice. ¡°Betray me and I won¡¯t hesitate to kill you, got it?¡±


    She nodded, but John still didn¡¯t trust her. He may have been the one with an acting skill but she was the real pro and he knew it. Grabbing her hand, he forced her to come with him. He couldn¡¯t trust her being out of his sights.


    As long as this works, it won¡¯t matter.


    Running off, John jumped inside the penguin¡¯s open beak, Selina protesting and struggling as she stood halfway in, hallway out. One leg inside the mouth. John dropped her hand and flashed her a stern look. She stayed completely still.


    The penguin¡¯s mouth stank of rotten fish and sticky saliva dripped down onto him. Strands of the thick fluid ran slowly down his hat, danglingly off the brim like semi-transparent rope.


    He tried to breathe through his mouth, the smell making him nauseous, but that was a mistake. Its breath was thick and John gagged on the revolting feeling as it entered his lungs, heavy and rancid.


    Here goes nothing.


    Lifting both revolvers above his head, he placed the barrels on the fleshy underside of the roof of its throat. If his predictions were correct, on the other side of that flesh was the monster¡¯s brain.


    Flicking both cylinders to dragon¡¯s breath, he fired.


    Sound rang out throughout the penguin¡¯s mouth deafening John as fire licked at the beast and flashed backwards through the wound, smacking John in the face with a powerful blast.


    His eyes popped like jelly from the pressure and horrendous pain slashed through him. It was the kind of pain which no one should ever feel. He¡¯d hoped that this wouldn¡¯t happen, he¡¯d prayed, but he knew that there was always a chance, even a slim one, that the pellets wouldn¡¯t pierce the inside of the skull and would instead bounce backwards like a backdraft in a house fire.


    He¡¯d had no idea of the force with which they¡¯d do it though.


    I¡¯m gonna die, he thought.


    Though he was blinded, he felt his body soaring through the air, wind lashing at his skin and rippling his duster. He hit the ground with a sickening crunch as he felt bones crack and more pain coursing through him.


    He could barely think. His mind was a jumble. Pain took over everything, every sense, every memory, every feeling. There was only pain.


    There had only ever been pain.


    I¡¯m gonna die.


    He thought back to his wife. That innocent and determined smile she¡¯d given him through bleary, tear stained eyes as she pushed him through the torii gate.


    I¡¯m gonna die.


    The pain was overwhelming. Agonising. Even his trauma nullification skill couldn¡¯t help to dull it. He could barely breathe. His lungs felt ruptured, every breath akin to blowing up a balloon that was ridden with holes. Every gasp a gargle as the tangy taste of iron filled his scorched throat.


    I don¡¯t want to die.


    His mind flashed. He saw his parents, his father¡¯s fist raised in the living room whilst a young John cowered in the corner. His mum¡¯s bruises, her body in the open casket, hairless. He saw Anne on their wedding day in her bright red dress. He¡¯d been sceptical at first, but she was adamant that a white dress wouldn¡¯t suit her. She¡¯d never been so right.


    He saw Truffle the first day they¡¯d met. After arriving home from work he¡¯d kicked his shoes off and gone to flop onto the couch, stopped only by a tiny, happy squeal. It had caused quite the argument, he¡¯d slept on that very couch the same night, the piglet curled up under his chin.


    I can¡¯t die, he needs me.


    Quest Completed:


    The Emperor Strikes Back.


    Objective:


    Kill The Emperor (penguin) 1/1


    Reward:


    X300 shards (this reward will only be given to the person who strikes the killing blow).


    Hidden Reward:


    Berserker¡¯s Curse  ¨C accepting this card will heal you completely, however it will come with a price.


    Warning: Your body has taken too much damage. You will die in 0.2 Earth seconds. Do you want to accept Berserker¡¯s Curse?


    Y/N


    I have to live, John thought, YES!

 Chapter 45 – Berserker’s Curse

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    John woke with a start, sitting stark upright like something out of a horror movie. He gasped, brisk morning air filling his lungs. His hands moved to his face before he even knew what he was doing.


    Unable to feel any burn marks he moved them up to his closed eyes, feeling the thin skin of his lids. Beneath them he could feel the balls of his eyes. He sighed, then pressed them harder just to double check.


    How am I...?


    His interface flashed with multiple notifications and it all came flooding back. He¡¯d accepted a card¡­ a cursed card.


    Panic causing his heart to race, he opened the notification.


    New card:


    Berserker¡¯s Curse ¨C The curse lies dormant.


    ¡°What the hell does that mean?¡± He mumbled aloud as he searched through his interface for any more information. There wasn¡¯t any.


    Why haven¡¯t I gotten my fifth card? He wondered. Buck had told him that upon acquisition of the fourth card, a fifth would manifest. A unique card, supposedly. That was how the game kept getting fresh powers to keep it interesting for the viewers. The manifestations of bespoke cards born of the individuals whose decks created them.


    Shaking his head, he looked around the small, boxy room he was in. He recognised it, The Outback Sleep Shack.


    How had he ended up in here? More importantly, where was everyone? Was The Captain alright?


    Getting to his feet gingerly, his heart felt lighter as he realised there was no longer any pain. Still hesitant to believe in such a miracle, he thoroughly checked his body for any sign of burned flesh and broken bones. There weren¡¯t any.


    In fact, even the minor scarring on his chest from the final round of the tournament had disappeared. Accepting the card has completely healed him. He guessed that made sense, there was no way his contestant regeneration or the shack¡¯s bed would have brought him back from the brink of death. His heart was about to stop, his eyeballs had burst.


    He shivered as the memory flashed through his head.


    You won¡¯t take my humanity. I will burn it all down.


    Exiting the room he saw the familiar shape of Truffle sitting happily on a bar stool and chatting away with the shirt wearing, bipedal dinosaur.


    ¡°We have to stop meeting like this,¡± Buck said with a lopsided, toothy smile. ¡°It seems that lately I only see you post-knockout.¡±


    ¡°Nice to see you too,¡± John replied, pulling up a stool and staring expectantly at the others.


    Before he had a chance to ask any questions a large ramen bowl slid towards him. Looking down, he was met with a fresh, warm bout of tantalising steam which floated dreamily through the air and up his nostrils.


    ¡°Beef ramen,¡± Buck announced, ¡°I¡¯ve heard it was quite popular in this world.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve never had it before but it looks good,¡± John replied with a shrug.


    Digging in, he wrapped a slurry of soupy noodles around his fork and stabbed at the almost rare beef slice sitting on top. The flavour exploded in his mouth, an oddly fishy flavour mixed with ginger, garlic, and onion.


    His stomach rumbled in a deep gurgle and Buck nodded satisfactorily.


    ¡°Truffle here was just filling me in on your adventures,¡± Buck said. ¡°I have to say, you¡¯re getting more reckless by the day. Admirable. But a quick way to get yourself killed. You might want to dial it back a bit if you intend to make it to the second round.¡±


    ¡°Boss was incredible!¡± Truffle squealed, defending John as the famished man continued to devour his food. ¡°He rushed into the mouth of the beast and blew its brains out. He cooked it from the inside. You know how I feel about cooked food, but even I thought it was awesome.


    ¡°Then he went flying through the air, he looked all charred and broken like Annie Kim from that movie with the glowing sticks. But then there was this flashing light. Well, I say light but it was more like a glowing darkness. Red and black swirls, real anime like. It covered his whole body and by the time I got to him, the Boss was fully healed and asleep. I mean, what kind of guy takes a nap at a time like that? The Boss, that¡¯s who. He¡¯s so awesome he can nap even before the battle¡¯s over.¡±


    ¡°Before?¡± John said, eyes widening, through a mouthful of food that threatened to choke him.


    ¡°Yeah, that weird zoophile woman started attacking us the moment her penguin exploded. She must have been upset that you killed him right after they made out. Probably ruined their date. I think she lost her leg in the explosion too, there was blood everywhere. She looked pretty upset. That guard guy who used to be on our side but then pulled a switcharoo started shooting at us and tried to carry her off. I chased them off with my amazing singing voice, and some help from Granny Ass Kicker, but they got away.¡±


    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Finally taking a breath from his erratic recounting, Truffle puffed his chest out and beamed at John.


    ¡°Good job,¡± he said, patting the pig on his head. ¡°What happened to The Captain. Last I saw he was blown off the cliff.¡±


    ¡°Oh, old Field Marhsall? Yeah he¡¯s fine, just a little soggy. He drives a boat you know; I figured you knew he could swim.¡±


    Under normal circumstances John might have rolled his eyes at the pig¡¯s glib remarks, but he was just thankful that everyone was alright. Dangerous as it was to make friends in this game, there was an argument to be made for safety in numbers.


    You¡¯ll have to kill them eventually; this is a battle royale.


    His heart jumped for a second, emotional dampening activated and a small notification telling him so appeared on his interface. He took a breath and pushed the intrusive thought away. He didn¡¯t need to be thinking about that stuff right now. The voice didn¡¯t sound like his own intrusive thoughts. It was deeper somehow.


    Fuck this game. You won¡¯t take my humanity.


    ¡°What happened to the rest of the Orphans?¡± He asked, immediately chugging a glass bottle of Coke which Buck had opened for him. It tasted infinitely better from a glass bottle, though he didn¡¯t know why.


    ¡°We still haven¡¯t found a lot of them,¡± Truffle said, looking down at the floor. ¡°Two of the life rafts are missing, along with all the other adults and some of the kids. The ones I got to are all alive, though we lost the woman who was with them. She didn¡¯t survive the landing.¡±


    John reached out, scratching behind the pig¡¯s droopy ear. He looked up, meeting his steely gaze. ¡°Good job buddy. If it wasn¡¯t for your quick thinking back there none of them would have survived the wave. You did good.¡±


    Truffle perked up at that, nuzzling closer into John¡¯s hand. He remined him of a dog when he did that. John had grown up with a family dog, a mastiff. The dopey idiot always had a look on his face that made you feel sorry for him and whenever John had scratched his ear, the dog had pushed into it, cocking his head.


    Colonel Sanders, he thought, for that was the dog¡¯s name, I wonder what he¡¯d sound like if he¡¯d lived long enough to come into the game¡­ Probably like Scooby Doo.


    ¡°You slept through the last announcement by the way,¡± Buck said, interrupting the silent, tender moment. ¡°The gate will appear at noon tomorrow.¡±


    Startled, John sat bolt upright, leaning forward on the countertop and giving the triceratops his undivided attention.


    ¡°That certainly woke you up,¡± he said and John glared at him, willing him to continue. ¡°Yeah it was broadcasted on last night¡¯s show. There were a lot of deaths yesterday, kid. A lot. Those anchors passed along the info, said that at midday tomorrow the gate will open. Singular. I don¡¯t know exactly what that means but I¡¯d guess there will be some kind of event. There¡¯s no way they¡¯d expect you to find it in a single day. The showrunners are cruel, but only when it serves their purpose. They wouldn¡¯t create a mass extinction event in the first round, there¡¯s no money in it. My guess is that you¡¯ll all get teleported to it.¡±


    ¡°Shit,¡± John muttered. ¡°It¡¯ll be a blood bath if that happens.¡±


    ¡°Most certainly,¡± Buck replied, leaning closer and placing his elbows on the countertop. ¡°But at least you won¡¯t have to waste time trying to find the damned thing. By the way, I have a pretty solid lead on a card to fill your final slot, its close by so you should have time.¡±


    ¡°No need,¡± John interrupted, flashing a grinning smile at the dinosaur. ¡°I got one from the penguin, that¡¯s how I survived.¡±


    ¡°You¡­ really? What is it?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t really know; it was pretty ominous. It¡¯s called Berserker¡¯s Curse.¡±


    Buck took a step backwards, all colour draining from his green, scaley face. An interesting thing about dinosaurs, when the blood drains from their skin they don¡¯t turn white, they turn a lighter shade of their natural skin colour. Buck¡¯s was usually a dark, forest green, but in that moment it reminded John of the sickly, lime colour of his mom¡¯s Nissan Micra from when he was kid.


    He¡¯d hated that car. Hated the colour too. Mostly though, he hated remembering the day he¡¯d broken his arm in a car crash in it. The day she¡¯d miscarried. The day everything went wrong with her and his dad¡¯s marriage.


    ¡°A curse card¡­¡± Buck breathed, his voice low and akin to that of a post op lung cancer survivor. ¡°John, I¡¯m so sorry.¡±


    ¡°Sorry? What do you mean? I know it can¡¯t be good but that card saved my life. I had no choice.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you didn¡¯t, but still,¡± Buck looked as if he was about to pass out. His eyes flashed and he seemed to be off away in his own world somewhere.


    Is he having a flashback?


    ¡°They¡¯re rare, and usually quite powerful,¡± he continued in a sombre tone. ¡°But they¡¯re dangerous. Firstly, you have no way of knowing what will trigger them to activate, and when they do you¡¯re almost guaranteed to regret the result. Secondly, and this one¡¯s a big one for you, they prevent your unique card from forming until they have been activated. So you won¡¯t be able to level up until the curse had run its course.¡±


    ¡°Wait, will that stop me from getting through the gate?¡± John replied, slapping both hands on the table as his eyes widened and the dry air made them sting.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, but that¡¯s not the biggest issue here. If you can¡¯t level up you¡¯ll die in the next round. There¡¯s no two ways about it. But if the card does awaken and the curse takes hold you might die anyway, or worse.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s worse than death at this point?¡± John scoffed.


    ¡°There are lots of things worse than death, kid. Play this game long enough and I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll come to realise that.¡±


    The two stared at each other, eyes locked. Sadness leaked from Buck¡¯s reptilian pupils whilst John¡¯s looked oddly determined. You could cut the tension with a knife. Was Buck right? John had almost killed Lilia because of that same thought, but she was still here. He¡¯d once said that there was no hope in death. He wasn¡¯t sure if that was the same as death being the worst thing, not anymore at least.


    ¡°Oh my god, look at this it¡¯s so cool!¡± Truffle squealed and the two men ended their staring contest to glance over at him.


    Placing his trotter on the kiosk¡¯s palm reader, Truffle began to glow, bathed in bright yellow light.


    ¡°What¡¯s he doing?¡± John wondered aloud.


    ¡°Looks like he¡¯s making a purchase,¡± Buck shrugged as if watching a pig use an ATM-looking arcade game-like kiosk was completely normal.


    WHOOSH.


    A tube exited the machine, shooting across the bar and smashing a liquor bottle. Buck swore, ducking to avoid being hit.


    ¡°I just bought the coolest thing!¡± Truffle exclaimed, bright eyes turning towards them. ¡°Oh, also I got an interface like you, Boss, and I got an upgrade for it. If you get it too we can send each other messages. Isn¡¯t that awesome?¡±


    ¡°Messages?¡± John began, ¡°wait, how did you get enough shards for all that?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been saving them up, you¡¯re not the only one who got rewards for all those quests we¡¯ve been doing you know.¡±


    ¡°Saving them for what?¡±


    ¡°For this.¡± Truffle hopped off the stool next to machine and sauntered behind the bar, nudging the tube with his nose.


    In a flash of dull light, a bowler hat appeared on his head. It was black with a red ribbon tied around it.


    ¡°How awesome is this?¡± He said, chuntering with delight as he strutted around.


    ¡°It¡¯s a hat, Truffle,¡± John replied slowly, struggling to see the appeal.


    ¡°I know! It¡¯s just like the one Field Marshall gave you. Now we match.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing like mine, you look like Charlie Chaplin.¡±


    ¡°Was he a cool guy? I don¡¯t know who that is.¡±


    ¡°Well his facial grooming inspired some pretty famous people, but it¡¯s since fallen out of fashion,¡± John said.


    ¡°Well he sounds swell, and now that I¡¯m a cowboy too we can start a posey!¡±

 Chapter 46 - Alliance

    Spending some of the shards he¡¯d been rewarded from The Emperor Strikes Back quest, John bought the upgrade for his interface. He could now join or create a party, form an alliance, and send messages to people in his contacts book via the interface.


    The contact book was already populated. It seemed he had access to everyone he¡¯d met so far in the game, that included Buck. However, there were certain intricacies. Firstly, any contestant who didn¡¯t have the upgrade was greyed out and unclickable, limiting his current working contacts to Truffle, Buck, The Captain, Agnes, and the remaining kids from their group.


    Secondly, anyone who he knew was dead had a line through their name with a little skull next to it. These were also unclickable. And finally, there was a tab for blocked contestants and contestants who had blocked him. This section was currently empty, but John found it interesting that a game as sadistic as this one had included the option at all. It seemed a little off brand for the alien despots.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you got spat out like some kind of bad food,¡± The Captain said, making no attempt to hide his amusement.


    ¡°It¡¯s no different from you falling off a cliff because it gave you a nasty look,¡± John replied, ¡°talk about dramatic.¡±


    The two laughed, though it was a laughter which was underpinned with a quiet, almost invisible, but still present despair.


    They sat around a trashcan fire, all of them. John, Truffle, Agnes, The Captain, and all the remaining kids. It was just outside the door which led John to The Outback Sleep Shack and The Orphans of the Apocalypse to whatever location they had.


    The Captain had already explained to them that they were the only ones who had survived. Apparently, you could check on the status of party members in real time and everyone else in theirs was dead. When John had first arrived on their ship there were thirty people in their party. Now that had more than halved with only twelve of them remaining.


    Sombrely they sat, most of them silent, lamenting the deaths of dozens of children and the few adults who had stayed with them until the very end.


    This isn¡¯t a game for kids, John thought, his eyes stinging from the looping black smoke which drifted out of the trashcan. This isn¡¯t a game for humans.


    He pushed away the thoughts as he continued his conversation. He¡¯d already told them about the interface upgrades he and Truffle has received. His views had gone up marginally, but it was nothing to write home about. Nothing he really cared about anyway. He knew views were going to be important in the long run, but at that moment in time it was the last thing he cared about.


    Truffle, on the other hand, was ecstatic as he bounced around the group happily telling everyone that he had more followers than John. His current view count was over twelve billion, which was significantly less than John¡¯s thanks to his time in the tournament. However, his follower count was over one billion whilst John¡¯s was at a paltry twenty-two million. As far as ratings were concerned, the pig was firmly in the lead out of the two of them.


    ¡°How do you have so many?¡± Charlie asked, looking at Truffle with the wonderous eyes of a child.


    ¡°It must be because I¡¯m so awesome!¡± He proclaimed boldly, ¡°see, I told you that the end of the world was no excuse to let one¡¯s dress standards slip. Now that I have this awesome hat and my bowtie, I look stylish as can be. I wonder if there are pinups of me on people¡¯s walls already?¡±


    John cracked a slight smile as he listened to the light-hearted conversation they were having. Though he knew it was likely the eye before the storm, the end of the round was imminent. He also had his own ideas about why Truffle had so many followers and most of them had something to do with the mysterious O.R.C company that had tried to recruit him. Their whole organisation was likely following him.


    Suddenly he found himself thinking back to Kesh, the orc they¡¯d met during the tournament. He wondered how she was doing and if they¡¯d ever meet again.


    You¡¯ll never meet anyone again if you don¡¯t survive tomorrow¡¯s shit show.


    His intrusive thoughts seemed to be getting worse. He¡¯d always had them, niggling at the back of his mind, but recently they were louder and there was more of them. Oddly, it didn¡¯t even sound like his own voice anymore. Or rather, it was, but it was deeper, more cynical and twisted. His supervillain counterpart.


    ¡°John?¡± The Captain said and he turned towards him with a start, eyes refocusing on the burly man. ¡°I was just asking if you wanted to form an alliance with us.¡±


    ¡°An alliance? I thought we already were one after all we¡¯ve been through the past few days.¡±


    ¡°Well yeah, but I mean officially. Using the interface. You know, now you¡¯ve got it upgraded it would be beneficial to use it to its fullest don¡¯t you think?¡±


    John starred back at the man for a moment, his eyes furrowing slightly as he delved into his interface and into the party tab. After a moment of searching he found it, an unpopulated slot entitled alliances.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°I can see it,¡± he mumbled. ¡°What are the benefits?¡±


    ¡°Well, from what our dinosaur told us, it¡¯s basically like having an extended party. So you¡¯ll be able to see all of us on there and check we¡¯re alive. But it also creates a group chat for the alliance so we can send out messages to everyone in it simultaneously. Most importantly though, members in an alliance can¡¯t accidentally damage each other when they use AOE attacks. We can still attack one another if the intention is there, but it should prevent accidental collateral damage.¡±


    Buck had told John something similar about how parties worked before. It had been a great boon for him because it meant that Truffle could use his Pig Squeal attack without it making John¡¯s ears bleed. That had become a bit of a problem recently and one he was glad to have solved.


    If they could extend that same protection to The Orphans then all the better. Especially if it meant that Agnes¡¯ spinning cannons of death wouldn¡¯t accidently pepper him.


    ¡°That sounds acceptable,¡± John said, holding out his hand. ¡°We accept.¡±


    The Captain took his hand with a smile and a new notification popped up in John¡¯s interface.


    The Captain has requested to form an alliance with your party.


    Do you want to accept?


    Y/N


    John mentally asserted yes and another notification appeared followed by a third.


    You have formed an alliance with The Orphans of the Apocalypse. Alliance benefits will come into effect immediately. You can sever this arrangement at any time via the party interface.


    Contestant Truffle has changed the alliance¡¯s name to: The Super Best Friends Murder Squad Alliance.


    ¡°That¡¯s a bit of a mouthful isn¡¯t it?¡± The Captain laughed, ¡°also, I love your party name. Should I call you Boss now too?¡±


    Earlier that day when Truffle and John had first officially become a party the pig had named it The Piggy Pose. He¡¯d also renamed John in the party interface so that his name showed up as Boss. John had no idea that it would also show up that way in their alliance interface.


    ¡°Shut up, it¡¯s better than The Captain. You don¡¯t even have a ship anymore,¡± he replied, shaking his head and placing his hand on his face. Turning towards the pig he added, ¡°Truffle, you can¡¯t name an alliance full of kids a murder squad.¡±


    ¡°Why not? It sounds fierce, like we¡¯re a force to be reckoned with.¡±


    ¡°It sounds like were a group of deranged killers,¡± he replied. ¡°Just think about how bad that might look if we meet other contestants. Some of them might attack us on the spot rather than taking the risk.¡±


    ¡°Anyone who attacks a group of kids deserves to be dealt with by the full force of The Super Best Friends Murder Squad Alliance,¡± Truffle said in a pouty voice. ¡°Besides, you can¡¯t change the name once it¡¯s been entered in.¡±


    ¡°What?!¡± Both John and The Captain shouted in unison.


    ¡°Are you trying to tell me you chose our alliances name, permanently, without consulting anyone else?¡± The Captain continued, he was practically on his feet and his jovial demeanour had devolved into outrage.


    ¡°Oh cool your jets Beverly, dear,¡± Agnes slurred in her elderly voice, a bottle of vodka hanging loosely in her hand. ¡°He meant no harm, he¡¯s only a baby.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­ ok, sorry Truffle,¡± The Captain sat back down sheepishly as a number of the children, and Truffle, began to laugh.


    He is only a baby, John thought sadly. He¡¯s barely a year old. I need to remember that when we¡¯re fighting, he must be terrified.


    After that the mood lightened considerably and John grabbed some drinks from inside. Buck wasn¡¯t too happy about lending out his booze to people he wasn¡¯t connected to, but he relented in the end and the outdoor gathering kicked off in earnest.


    Truffle played games with the kids, letting the livelier among them chase him around. Many of them still bore hollowed out faces and unfocused eyes, but it was the first time most of them had smiled since John had met them.


    Good for them, no matter what happens tomorrow at least they got to spend today acting like children.


    Whilst Truffle entertained the little ones, the adults got to talking. Huddled around the trashcan fire, their conversation turned serious.


    ¡°It¡¯s gonna go down at midnight,¡± The Captain said quietly. ¡°I¡¯m sure you already know this, but Grandma is the only one in our group eligible to enter the gate. I¡¯m still lacking two cards, but more importantly, most of the kids are completely uncarded. Thankfully none of them have had to kill anyone yet. I don¡¯t think any of them have killed mobs either, at least not since they¡¯ve been with us..¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t even imagine the mental damage they¡¯d take if they did,¡± John replied grimly. ¡°Asking a child to take a life is ridiculous.¡±


    ¡°This whole game is ridiculous,¡± The Captain sighed, taking a swig from a bottle of rum John had pilfered. ¡°I keep hoping it¡¯s all just a bad dream, you know? Like I¡¯m gonna wake up at any moment in my bed and my boy would come running in and¡­¡± He trailed off and John didn¡¯t push him for more, though he felt like he understood the man¡¯s motivations a little more.


    ¡°It¡¯s not too late, deary,¡± Agnes said, reaching over from her wheelchair and placing her bony, liver spotted hand on his shoulder. ¡°We¡¯ll find a way to save them.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± he replied solemnly. ¡°Our dino said that once they reach E rank they¡¯ll become teenagers, like immediately. Apparently that¡¯s how the levelling system works on kids. It¡¯s a failsafe designed to keep them alive longer, make the show more interesting.¡± He spat on the floor violently. ¡°A fucking TV show¡­ all this misery for a TV show. It¡¯s sick.¡±


    I am going to burn it all down.


    ¡°I¡¯ll cheers to that,¡± John said, raising his bottle of bourbon and taking a long swig. He never used to drink this much, but when you find yourself at the end of world with the threat of imminent death your only friend, a little liver damage didn¡¯t mean much.


    ¡°I know it¡¯s selfish of me to ask, but will you help us? Get them carded and through the gate I mean,¡± The Captain asked, eyes glistening as he determinedly looked into John¡¯s.


    ¡°I can¡¯t make any promises,¡± he said, feeling guilty almost immediately after the words passed his lips. ¡°But I¡¯ll do what I can. The first step should be to come up with a plan.¡±


    ¡°How can we plan when we don¡¯t really know what¡¯ll happen?¡±


    ¡°We use what we already know and adapt the rest as it comes,¡± John shrugged. ¡°For example, we know about Agnes¡¯ gatling guns. It¡¯s a bit fucked up¡­ well completely fucked up if I¡¯m being honest, but there might be something we can do.¡±

 Chapter 47 – The Final Event

    1 day remaining


    ¡°It¡¯s time,¡± Buck said, a stern expression on his green face.


    John and Truffle sat together at The Outback Sleep Shack¡¯s bar, watching with bated breath as the countdown, which had appeared on the menu screens, ticked over to 12:00.


    The final celebration had gone on late into the morning and the two of them had staggered to bed, sleeping in as long as they could. Buck had made them coffee and breakfast, thankfully the healing effects of the shack¡¯s bed seemed to extend to hangover.


    With a plan set in motion, each party in their alliance had returned to their respective places to mentally prepare for this moment. Supposedly there was an upgrade which would conjoin their spaces, but it was locked until the second round.


    It¡¯s finally time.


    Welcome contestants, to the final stage of round one.


    The familiar voice rang out inside John¡¯s mind, he moved to look at Truffle but his body was frozen in position. He couldn¡¯t even blink.


    That voice, it¡¯s been so long, he thought as the voice of Chairman Tanlan rang out in a deep, threatening rumble through his brain.


    All across the different time zones of Earth, in the various countries which have been used as staging grounds, you have fought in a most entertaining way. I can now tell you that the initial 752 million humans who chose to participate in this season¡¯s Battle Royale, have been whittled down to just over ten million.


    That will likely change in the next twenty-four Earthen hours.


    Soon you will be transported to the nearest torii gate as it rises from the ground. The countries you are in will cease to exist and their remnants will create the final battle grounds of round one. All remaining mobs will also be transported here and it¡¯s sure to be very entertaining for our viewers watching back home.


    If you manage to successfully meet the requirements and enter the gates, the next round will be quite different from this one. You¡¯ll be competing in a story-based round. Isn¡¯t that exciting? You might even be able to meet your favourite contestants from the recap shows. Though of course, ultimately there can only be one winner.


    His voice sounded different from the first time, like he¡¯d been spending time with A.J and finally learnt a little showmanship. John found the whole charade sickening to listen to.


    Before the mass transportation begins, let me first remind you of the requirements that must be met in order to successfully pass through the torii gate. Firstly, you must acquire four cards and add them to your soul decks. That is all. Do this one thing and you will be able to safely pass through the gate.


    However, if you fail to complete these requirements you will not be able to enter the gate and will perish along with the final battle zone once the timer runs out.


    I can assure you that it will not be a pleasant experience so do your best to make this as entertaining as possible. From the next round onwards, sponsorship will be available and you won¡¯t want to miss out on that, let me assure you.


    Now, without further ado, let the final event begin.


    Get out there and CULL THE MASSES!


    Time stood still for a single moment after Chairman Tanlan¡¯s speech had finished and Buck dashed towards John with speed unbecoming of a creature of his stature and build.


    Pressing his cold blooded, scaley lips into John¡¯s ear he whispered something and patted him on the shoulder. Unable to respond, John stood their motionless and silent, but he understood the dinosaur¡¯s words perfectly.


    His heartbeat quickened and anger began to bubble up inside of him. Then, the world was encompassed in a bright purple light. All he could see was purple. There was no feeling of motion, no feeling of anything at all. Just a never-ending purple flooding his vision, encompassing his entire being.


    He blinked.


    The scorching midday sun beamed down from above, causing his eyes to water. How can it be dark? It¡¯s midday, he thought as he attempted to lift his hand to his eyes to shield them from the spotlights flooding the area with unnaturally bright light, but found that he was still paralysed and rooted to the spot.


    Taking a moment to look around, he realised that wherever he was, it was a place that couldn¡¯t have existed before the apocalypse. The ground was bright red and barren and John was pretty sure it was from the outback. However, the area was populated with broken, slanted, out of place buildings and monuments.


    Half buried skyscrapers peaked out of the sands, slanted and crumbling. Upended cars and trucks littered the outskirts of the area, stacked and forming a kind of ring as if they were in an arena. The Sydney opera house sat slap bang in the middle of the Mad Max esq arena, it was split in two, peeling away from the columns which made up the sides of a torii gate.


    It stood, reaching so high up it dwarfed John. A purple portal glowed and shimmered, fluttering like a pool of jelly. It was the goal and it was right there, barely two hundred feet from him.


    Atop the torii gate, on the crossbar, was a timer. It hadn¡¯t begun counting down yet and was stuck at the time 12:00. John knew, he didn¡¯t know how he knew, but he knew, that the moment the chaos began the clock would begin ticking down to the end.


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    As he stood there, unmoving, groups of people, mobs and more buildings began warping into the space. The gas station where he and Truffle had found the old bike and side car teleported in, landing with a crash from about twenty feet up. As it landed, the roof caved in and John wondered if they were populating the area with cover to make it more interesting to watch. A straight up slugfest in the middle of a boring desert didn¡¯t hold the same visual appeal as this did.


    Truffle warped in next to him, followed by the members of The Orphans of The Apocalypse. In front of him a group of knife wielding koalas appeared, their psychotic, fangy smiles stuck on their faces in the frozen time zone.


    A few lone contestants who John didn¡¯t recognise appeared to the side of the gas station, they looked scared and confused. Then a large group of men in soldier¡¯s attire warped in just behind them, they all held AK-47¡¯s and some of them still wore those Russian winter hats with the ear flaps.


    Are they Russian armed forces? John wondered, shit, we might be in for one hell of a fight if they come for us.


    The group looked hardened, they all had sunken eyes, malnourished, gaunt faces and the kind of look about them that just screamed: professional killer. If John could have gulped he would have. He faintly recognised them for somewhere but he wasn¡¯t sure where.


    Welcome back folks, and might I say what an honour it is to be announcing the final battle in this year¡¯s first round of Battle Royale Earth. Hasn¡¯t this season been magnificent? So much death, tragedy, destruction. Humans sure are violent little bastards aren¡¯t they? I can¡¯t wait to see what they do next. You contestants might not know this, but I can now tell you that this has been the most widely watched opening round in the history of Battle Royale. So, as you die horribly, which most of you will, you can be proud of what you¡¯ve achieved for the IPSC.


    A.J¡¯s voice rang out across the still-forming battlefield. Unlike Chairman Tanlan¡¯s announcements, this one was both in John¡¯s head and external, as if it was also coming through invisible loudspeakers what were set up somewhere within the battle zone itself.


    Our illustrious chairman has already explained the rules, so there¡¯s no need to go over all that again. Instead, I¡¯ve been asked to comment on the goings on as they happen, like one of those sports commentators¡¯ you Earthlings love so much.


    Don¡¯t worry thought contestants, for the most part my commentary will be heard exclusively by the lovely folks sitting at home, just like it has been in most every major fight of the season so far. I wouldn¡¯t want to distract you from your killing.


    In fact, the only reason you¡¯re hearing me now is because I have a few little announcements to make before the final battle kicks off. Oh I¡¯m just so excited to see which of you lovely contestants make it through to the next round.


    Before we get there though, let me tell you about the field of play. Some of the more eagle eyed among you may have noticed a large ring of motor vehicles surrounding this place. That marks the edge of the map, on the other side of those stacked vehicles lies certain death. And by that I mean, literally nothing at all. If you try to get there you¡¯ll fall off the edge of the map and be immediately disqualified.


    You can also enter the many buildings that have been dropped here, so make sure you use them to their full effect. There are lots of card types out there and the ISPC wanted to give a fair chance to all of you. How magnanimous! But be warned, the mobs can get inside too.


    And whilst we¡¯re on the subject of the mobs, let me tell you, this place is positively swarming with those pesky little critters. You contestants certainly managed to take out a lot of them over the past ten days, but obviously you weren¡¯t trying hard enough if there are this many left. Just look at their attention starved eyes and sad little smiles.


    That being said, the ONLY mobs in the arena with you are the ones that were created for the Australian battle ground. No more have been made and we haven¡¯t used any from outside of this place. So hopefully that advantage will help the more diligent of you to survive this whole ordeal.


    Finally, and this a big one, all party and alliance interfaces will be switched off for the remainder of this round. That means any pre-existing groups are stuck with each other until the next one. It also means, no partying up or allying yourselves with any contestants you might meet in the next twelve hours.


    Well, not officially at least. Even IPSC can¡¯t control verbal agreements, but just remember that nothing you say from now on will be backed by the system.


    That is all, folks.


    So, shall we begin?


    The final battle of round one will commence in¡­


    THREE.


    John mentally hovered over his revolvers, he saw that both the group of koala mobs and the Russian soldiers were staring at him. Something was about to happen and he wasn¡¯t about to go out in the first minute.


    TWO.


    Testing the full boundaries of the frozen debuff which kept him and everyone else stuck in place, John attempted to access the system messaging tab in his newly upgraded interface.


    To his complete and utter surprise, it worked. He quickly sent a message into the group chat. Thankfully, to send a message one need only think it. It was faster than speaking aloud, though it took more concentration. Their group chat conversation took place in less than a few seconds.


    <u>John Doe</u>: Listen up, that group of Russians next to gas station have been staring me out this entire time. I think they¡¯re gonna pull something. Agnes, get ready to put down some serious suppressive fire. Everyone else, sprint as fast as you can to that Hungry Jacks on our left.


    <u>Beverly_Jones</u>: What the fuck is a Hungry Jacks?


    <u>A.S.S Kicker</u>: Understood, deary. I¡¯ll destroy those motherfuckers before they even get a chance to shit their pants.


    <u>Truffle</u>: Jesus Granny, since when do you talk like that? You sound like one of those original gangsters I¡¯ve been hearing so much about.


    <u>A.S.S Kicker</u>: Sorry, deary. It¡¯s harder to filter my thoughts than it is my words. I¡¯m still getting used to this fucking piece of shit messaging system.


    <u>John Doe</u>: Get ready to run, the countdown will end any moment now.


    <u>Truffle: </u>Do you recognise those Russians? I think they were on a recap show. The one with budget Batman.


    Thinking back, John did remember that segment of the recap. It was the one where the weirdo in the cape jumped into the middle of a militia and executed their leader, taking control. At the time he¡¯d assumed that was happening in another country, but there were plenty of Australian cities he didn¡¯t get the chance to visit during this round.


    There are so many stories going on in this place that have nothing to do with me. I¡¯ll never get to know about them all.


    John closed the chat; the final number was about to come any moment now. A.J was taking his time for the dramatics, but once he was done being a pompous ass it was going to kick off in a big way.


    ONE!


    Go, go, go, oh and before I forget, CULL THE MASSES!


    The world unfroze and all and a bullet pierced John¡¯s shoulder.

 Chapter 48 – Failure To Comply

    A.J counted down to one and a series of simultaneous events took place. It all happened in less than a second, true carnage.


    John¡¯s revolvers appeared in his hands just as he felt the impact of warm metal pierce his shoulder, near the bone. He was forced backwards by the impact and fired off a shot with his other hand accidentally as he spun to the side from the force of the bullet.


    Grandma pressed down on the triggers of her gatling guns, abandoning the group¡¯s initial plan and adapting to the message John had sent via the chat. It would take a few seconds for the guns to rev up and begin to fire.


    The Captain and all the kids made an immediate dash towards the Hungry Jacks fast food restaurant which was tilted and half sunken into the ground on their left, the burger-shaped sign above the door hung on by a thread. The Captain was practically shoulder to shoulder with the glass panelled front door. When time resumed he immediately swung it open and beckoned the kids inside.


    Truffle opened his mouth and activated Pig Squeal, aiming the blast at the nearby koalas who flew into the air as if caught up in a tornado. Some landed atop the gas station roof directly behind them, whilst others landed amidst the random solo contestants who were trapped between the Russians and John¡¯s alliance. One of the solos jumped to the roof and began stomping the beasts into the ground, popping them like blood filled water balloons. He was the living embodiment of why one should never skip leg day, until he took a stray bullet to the skull and his body flopped off the side, landing in a gymnastic contortion on the concrete.


    As John continued to spin, dropping to the floor, he lifted his good arm and continued firing pot shots in the general direction of the Russians, but they had already begun to spread out.


    Clearly they knew what they were doing and their teamwork was flawless. Spreading out from one another, they set up a firing line. Some dropped into ditches to make themselves smaller targets, others hid behind cover in the gas station and the broken skyscraper opposite it. They all opened fire in John¡¯s general direction.


    He had no idea why they were targeting him specifically. Had they seen him on a recap episode and decided to eliminate the competition? If so why weren¡¯t they targeting Agnes, she was clearly the more dangerous foe.


    Nothing made sense. Pressing himself hard into the ground he decided to crawl towards the Hungry Jack¡¯s. By this point all the kids were already inside, cowering underneath the typical fast food restaurant style tables.


    The Captain was using the remaining furniture to make a barricade near the far window which looked directly out towards the Russian¡¯s position. John wondered if it had been a mistake asking him to use his once per week RPG on The Emperor. It would have come in handy right about now, they could blow up the gas station with it.


    Unfortunately his dragon¡¯s breath rounds wouldn¡¯t reach that far and he was reluctant to attempt blowing something up with them if he couldn¡¯t do it from a safe distance. He¡¯d already felt the backdraft of his own shells first hand and there was no way he was going to repeat that mistake.


    In the background, behind the gas station, explosions rocked the battle zone, a different skyscraper was already on fire, and a huge shrimp monster ¨C like the one John and Truffle had faced back in Perth ¨C was roaming around looking like an edible Godzilla.


    The sound of chainsaws roared as Agnes¡¯ gatling guns finally finished revving up. Rounds exploded out of them, tearing through the terrain. A pink mist sprayed into the air like an aerosol as her bullets ripped through the gas station wall which one of the Russians was hiding behind.


    BOOM!


    Fire erupted upwards as rounds collided with the fuel pumps. A stream of fire flared outwards angrily roasting one of the solo contestants and the koala that was gnawing on his leg like it was a chicken wing.


    Screaming, the man ran for a few steps and then dropped to the floor rolling. He had obviously seen those old adverts the fire department put out in the 70¡¯s, John wasn¡¯t that old, but even he could envision Dick Van Dyke explaining the procedure.


    It didn¡¯t work.


    As the man rolled furiously across the red sand, tears streaming down his melting face, he left a smear of charred skin on the floor with each rotation. It was almost like his face was a Tipp-ex roller. John didn¡¯t have time to feel sorry for the guy, even if he was just caught in the crossfire.


    Agnes had created the perfect diversion though, buying John an extra few seconds to throw himself through the Hungry Jack¡¯s door.


    ¡°Mr John, you¡¯re bleeding,¡± Lilia said in a horrified voice. She was the girl who now had robotic limbs thanks to the card John had implanted in her chest. He hadn¡¯t spoken to her much since he¡¯d dragged them in a box all the way to the ship. Back then she barely spoke, it seemed she¡¯d found her voice again.


    As she reached out to touch him, he felt cold steel against his flesh. It was odd, disconcerting, but he refused to allow his face to show it.


    It¡¯s my fault she had to live to see this war zone. I will make sure it isn¡¯t all for nothing.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it, I¡¯ll be fine,¡± he replied, trying to smile, though it came out as more of a grimace.


    ¡°Use this,¡± The Captain said, tearing the sleeve from the checked shirt he¡¯d bought at the kiosk the previous day and revealing a t-shirt tan which made his arm look like a Drumstick lolly. ¡°So much for improving my look, ay?¡±


    ¡°You look like a true southerner now,¡± John said, flashing him a pained smile, John caught the fabric and tied it tightly around his shoulder joint. Shoving the brim of his hat into his mouth, he then jabbed his index finger around the edges of the wound, feeling for the unmistakable lump of a bullet. There was no exit wound on the opposite side of his shoulder so it had to be inside him somewhere. He just hoped it was still whole. Fragmentation would cause him no end of issues unless he could get to The Outback Sleep Shack and go to bed, an unlikely thing to happen during the final battle of round one. His contestant regeneration wouldn¡¯t activate whilst a foreign object was inside the wound, Buck had explained as much to him not long after the start of the game.


    ¡°Hey, kid,¡± John said with a grimace, ¡°how small are those robot fingers?¡±


    Lilia shuffled towards him on her bionic knees and held out a hand. She really did look like a Terminator without the skin suit. Her hands weren¡¯t tiny, but they were significantly smaller than John¡¯s. It was as if the card knew to give her robotic limbs that matched her current size.


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    Her metal fingers were thin, about the width of chopsticks. That was far from perfect but it would have to do.


    ¡°I need you to do me a favour,¡± he said, looking the girl in the eyes and trying to put on a brave face. ¡°I need you to reach into this wound and pull out the bullet. Use your thumb and forefinger and just ease it out, nice and careful. Do you think you can do that for me?¡±


    Lilia¡¯s eyes glistened with the threat of tears. Her lip trembled as she stared at the gushing wound. Gritting her teeth, she nodded and John put the brim of his Stetson back in his mouth, biting down hard.


    Cold steel shocked him as it penetrated his shoulder, it was agonising, but nowhere near as bad as burning alive had been. If anything, this was less painful than he¡¯d been expecting and he lamented how weird his pain tolerance had gotten in the past few days. He wondered if his trauma nullification skill had anything to do with it.


    A few moments later the cold feeling went away and he opened his eyes to see Lilia¡¯s beaming face in front of him. In bloodied, metal fingers she held a tiny bullet up for him to see. Despite the size of the initial 7.62mm round fired from an AK47, the head of the bullet with no shell attached was significantly smaller.


    It¡¯s incredible that something so small can cause so much damage. That thought felt significant, but he didn¡¯t have time to think deeper on it.


    For a moment John flashed back to his time in basic training as a National Guard, it had also shocked him then how such a small piece of metal could cause so much damage to a body. Humans were so weak and vulnerable and most of them never even realised it. Never realised how easily it could all end. It only takes a single second.


    ¡°They¡¯re on us, stay away from the windows!¡± The Captain shouted as Agnes and Truffle burst through the doorway almost trampling John.


    He patted Lilia on the head and motioned for her to go hide. She smiled up at him and ducked back under a table.


    There was still considerable pain in his shoulder, but now the bullet had been removed he could rely on the accelerated healing, which contestants had, and hopefully be back to dual wielding in no time.


    Agnes fired concentrated bursts of gatling gun rounds at the Russians as they continued to move towards the fast-food building. Utilising a fire and move tactic, they had split into four groups. Two groups would put down covering fire from a prone position whilst the other two dashed forwards. Then they¡¯d alternate and repeat.


    It was definitely a military tactic, but it was much less refined than the kind John had been trained in. Were these guys even soldiers? It was hard to tell. They were dressed like them and they were efficient but he got the feeling that there was more to it.


    That doesn¡¯t matter right now, he told himself as he ducked near the blown-out window which faced the attackers.


    <u>John Doe</u>: Draw them in, minimal fire, keep eyes on. When they¡¯re close I¡¯ll blast them with both barrels.


    <u>Beverly_Jones</u>: That¡¯s my line, I¡¯m the one with the shotgun!


    <u>A.S.S Kicker</u>: Alright, deary. Mamma¡¯s little death sticks need to cooldown anyway.


    <u>Beverly_Jones</u>: You scare the shit out of me when we talk using the interface.


    Back in real time, John withdrew his second revolver. His shoulder wasn¡¯t steady enough to get a good aim but he flicked the cylinder to dragon¡¯s breath anyway just in case. He did the same with the weapon in his good hand.


    Outside was deathly silent. They could hear the sounds of explosions, screaming, gunfire and everything in between in the near distance. But there wasn¡¯t a sound in the immediate vicinity


    John peaked through the furniture barricade and saw the Russian¡¯s, if that¡¯s who they really were, passing hand signals down the line. They were planning to stack up on either side of the door and force their way in guns blazing.


    I¡¯d have surrounded the place and fired through the broken windows if it was me, John thought, convincing himself further that these guys were not real military. Stacking doors was a tried-and-true military tactic, but it seemed illogical given that they were hiding in a building with clear sightlines through windows which covered three of the four walls.


    He still had a burning desire to know why they were after him, but that would have to wait. It was possible he¡¯d never find out, but he was going to try.


    Buck¡¯s parting words rang through his skull: Jo Ren is going to make a move on you, watch your back. John had no idea how the dinosaur knew this but he trusted him. Jo Ren was the dude whose son John had humiliated during the tournament. He¡¯d then been a little rude to the guy on live intergalactic television too, some people might even say that he declared war on the guy, but John thought that was a little dramatic. He was drunk at the time, surely they had to allow him a little leeway. Not that he wouldn¡¯t blow the octo-fuck¡¯s face off if he got the chance. Was this part of that? John didn¡¯t know but he desperately wanted to find out.


    Hiding at the side of the front door, he waited patiently. He had positioned Agnes directly in front of it, but back a bit from John. That was probably the most dangerous position but she needed room for her guns and a clear line of sight. The Captain was at the other side of the door and Truffle was further back, guarding the children. He was the last line of defence for them if any of the Russians got past the vanguard.


    The door itself led directly into a small corridor, it was only a few feet long but John was hoping that it would act like a funnel, preventing his enemies from escaping. The door was made of opaque glass and was partially transparent, but the mid-section was covered by a thick, metal door handle which stretched the entire way across the panel. He¡¯d hoped that they would be too stupid to realise and then John could shoot them through the door, but there were no silhouettes against the glass so they must have been smarter than he¡¯d hoped. They were probably stacked up against the brick walls on either side.


    Taking a deep breath, John tried to clear his mind. They would be storming the place any second. He would be ready.


    CRASH!


    The Russian in the hat kicked open the door and charged through it, opening fire immediately as six of his friends joined behind him. John popped his hand around the corner and fired off a dragon¡¯s breath which peppered the six men with burning, magnesium pellets which immediately took them out of commission.


    As John had planned, they had nowhere to go. That short corridor was a death gauntlet. Agnes opened fire, exploding their burning bodies into pink mist before they could fire off any pre-death shots. No real solider would have fallen for that and John was finally convinced that they weren¡¯t really Russian military.


    Who the hell are they then?!


    Were they part of the militia he¡¯d seen on the recap? If so, what was their beef with him. He¡¯d never met them before today, nor had he met the caped crusader who had taken command of their operation. Surely they couldn¡¯t be the same. Even if that was who Truffle thought they were. It just didn¡¯t make any sense.


    If he¡¯d counted them correctly when they were first teleported in, there should only have been one left. The last man. One vs four. He didn¡¯t stand a chance against them. Perhaps John could capture him and interrogate the bastard. That would surely yield answers.


    ¡°Come out into the open with your hands up and your weapon on the ground and we¡¯ll let you live,¡± John called out from around the corner.


    ¡°Why should I trust you?¡± A timid and vaguely Slavic voice shouted back.


    ¡°What choice do you have?¡± John returned harshly. ¡°We just killed all your friends, you¡¯re all alone out there. I¡¯m giving you a chance to live and it¡¯s the only one you¡¯ll get. Failure to comply will result in death.¡±


    ¡°When did you start talking like those peeing people?¡± Truffle said, nuzzling the side of John¡¯s leg. He looked at him with confusion. ¡°You know, those alien guys running the show?¡±


    ¡°The IPSC?¡±


    ¡°Yeah those guys, the peeing people. You sounded a lot like them just now.¡±


    John¡¯s heart hurt as his looked at the pig. He sighed, but he couldn¡¯t change his tactics now. He had to survive; he had to make sure Truffle survived. He had to help those kids too. It suddenly hit him just how much responsibility he¡¯d taken on recently.


    So much for going it alone.


    ¡°What¡¯s it gonna be pal?¡± The Captain shouted to the timid Slavic man.


    ¡°I think I¡¯ll take my chances,¡± he called back, sounding much less timid this time.


    The door swung inwards once again, this time with enough force to take the left side off its hinges, and the man stepped in.


    He was wearing a juggernaut suit and holding an AA-12 fully automatic shotgun. ¡°I choose the red pill!¡± He screamed as he stepped over the body of his fallen comrades.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s what that means,¡± Truffle shouted back. ¡°Someone¡¯s been playing too much Call Of Duty.¡±

 Chapter 49 - Cooldown

    The first shell exploded from the juggernaut¡¯s AA-12 fully automatic shotgun and time seemed to stand still. A loud crack permeated the air and John¡¯s ears rang with an eternal high-pitched din.


    Kicking off the wall, he threw himself back around the corner just as a huge chunk of plaster and brick dust blasted in front of where he had just been stood.


    10.


    Scurrying across the floor on his hands and knees and he scrambled towards the barricade which sat precariously in front of the windows. Behind him, Agnes began revving up her gatling guns as another shell left the man¡¯s chamber, severing her arm which flew through the air, spurting blood like a pressurised hosepipe. She grunted and her chair tipped back from the force of the blast, throwing her onto her back like a stuck turtle.


    9.


    The children screamed, some cried, a few showed no reaction at all and simply sat under the table, staring into space like zombies. They worried John the most, they had no survival instincts left. Empty shells, waiting for this hell to be done with them. Lilia¡¯s eyes were red and puffy as she threw herself over Agnes, shaking, as she tried to protect her with her body.


    ¡°Don¡¯t hurt her!¡± She screamed.


    Charlie, watched on in terror. His screams were the loudest and he covered his face with his blood drenched hands, peeking through his fingers at chaotic scene.


    It would be kinder to let them die, his intrusive thoughts broke through again, it was the deeper voice. The one he wished he didn¡¯t have.


    8.


    Truffle let out a pig squeal but it had no effect on the juggernaut, despite blowing out the glass panels on the one remaining door and adding to the disorienting cacophony all around them. All John could here was the high-pitched din like a flatline as his heart thudded against his chest and a tangy iron taste clung to the back of his throat.


    The juggernaut kicked the pig absently, as if he was a mere fly buzzing around his feet. Truffle flew through the air, smashing into the back wall of the Hungry Jack¡¯s and landing with a thud onto the floor. He tried to get up, but his legs gave way and slipped back to the ground.


    7.


    The Captain screamed something which was inaudible to John, but if he had to guess it was probably a reaction to seeing Agnes take a hit. Recklessly he bounded over a table, his pump action in one hand like the Terminator as he squeezed the trigger and an ineffective shell bounced off the man¡¯s suit.


    6.


    Beverly¡¯s arm bucked in a horrifying fashion and he lost his grip on the weapon, it flew into the air and dematerialised as it went back into the card in his heart. His arm stood at an odd angle, possibly broken from the recoil of such an idiotic action.


    The juggernaut squeezed the trigger of his AA-12 once again and this time didn¡¯t let go. A myriad of shells exploded as he moved the weapon in a sweeping arc across the room, a move more commonly associate with Al Pacino.


    5.


    Chunks of wall exploded, plaster rained down covering the room in a silt-like fog of white and grey. Plastic chairs disintegrated and bits of tables fragmented. Still, the high-pitched din persisted as John began to climb the barricade.


    <ol start="4">


    <li> </li>


    </ol>


    The shotgun swept ever closer towards him as he scrambled up the side, an almost insurmountable task with a defective arm. Still, he persisted and reached the top, rolling over it and onto the other side just as the upended table, which sat atop the makeshift structure, disintegrated in front of him. Wood showered down around him as he landed heavily on his back. The wind was forced from his lungs as he felt the impact; a thud followed by a burning sensation peppering his lower spine.


    <ol start="3">


    <li> </li>


    </ol>


    Picking himself up, he felt his back and pulled his hand away seeing fresh blood on his fingertips. Looking down he saw broken shards of glass on the floor, slick with bright red blood. His blood. He knew it was a close call. If one of those large, upright shards, which were still held in place by the bottom of the window frame, had severed anything major in his lower back he could have been paralysed. The thought wasn¡¯t lost on him, but he had to keep going.


    <ol start="2">


    <li> </li>


    </ol>


    With no time to dress or properly assess his injury, he pulled himself to his feet and sprinted around the corner of the building, stumbling and almost falling as he summoned one revolver into his hand.


    1.


    Slamming into the front side wall as he shakily ran, he flicked the cylinder, which didn¡¯t light up with red runes, and pushed through the front door.


    This better fucking work!


    With both hands, and a numb mechanical tension from his bad arm, he reached up and fumbled, jamming the barrel of his revolver under the rim of the juggernaut¡¯s helmet and up towards his head.


    The man flinched and began to turn, bringing the sweeping arc of his still-firing shotgun back across the back wall with him. More bricks turned to dust and The Captain dived onto the floor with wide eyes and a pained grimace as he desperately tried to avoid the onslaught.


    0.


    Red runes flickered to life like an old neon sign and John could have cheered like a football hooligan as his dragon¡¯s breath cooldown period ended. Ducking down and pressing himself as close to the armour as possible, he squeezed the trigger.


    ***


    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°That was crazy,¡± Beverly gasped as he looked down at John, trapped beneath the weight of the juggernaut armour. ¡°You saved us, you saved all of us.¡±


    John smiled weakly, one of his ribs was cracked and it pressed painfully into him as the weight of his dead opponent crushed him. Thankfully his gambit had paid off. When the dragon¡¯s breath shell went off inside the man¡¯s helmet it was completely contained by the sheer potency of the armour.


    The man¡¯s head was a mushy pulp inside the thing, leaking out gross fluids onto John¡¯s head. He was almost scared to take the helmet off, to see what a mess he¡¯d made inside of it.


    ¡°A little help?¡± He said weakly and The Captain grabbed the dead man¡¯s arm and began to pull with all his strength. John aided him, pushing from underneath and with a lot of pain and effort the two men managed to roll the juggernaut off of John.


    ¡°Grandma¡¯s wounded,¡± Lilia cried, ¡°she¡¯s bleeding really bad.¡± The girl sobbed as John stumbled towards them, dropping to his knees and inspecting the wound.


    It wasn¡¯t a clean cut. Blood seeped from her arm, severed tendons dangled through the edges. Grabbing a knife from her wheelchair, John cut off the leg of his soiled jeans. He then stamped on a plastic chair leg, breaking it off and began wrapping the jeans leg around Agnes¡¯ arm, just above the wound.


    Jamming the chair leg into the jeans, her turned it over and over again, as tightly as he could, making a sort of makeshift torniquet which stemmed the flow of blood. It did the trick for now, but John knew it wouldn¡¯t save her life indefinitely. She desperately needed medical treatment and he wasn¡¯t sure that any existed in the game. The bed in The Outback Sleep Shack healed them somehow, but he doubted it could grow back limbs. He wasn¡¯t even sure it could close up a wound this bad, he¡¯d never tried it.


    ¡°Hopefully this¡¯ll last long enough to get you through the gate,¡± he said, ¡°but it won¡¯t keep you alive forever.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, deary,¡± Agnes said, smiling weakly up at him. Her face devoid of colour as her bloodshot eyes glistened. She looked so old in the moment, wrinkled, pruning skin wrapped loosely over a frail frame.


    With a grunt, John pulled himself up from the floor and righted her chair, though she¡¯d only be able to go in circles with a single arm. She had the rocket propulsion but he was pretty certain that was a card power so it likely had a cooldown. Lilia hugged his leg, cold metal making him flinch. She whispered ¡°thank you¡± over and over again into his one remaining jeans leg, and then she let go.


    ¡°Boss,¡± Truffle said as he staggered dazedly towards the group from the far side of the fast-food restaurant. ¡°If I eat this guy, do you think I¡¯ll get a shotgun?¡±


    ¡°Pigs can¡¯t use shotguns,¡± John replied, ¡°you don¡¯t have opposable thumbs.¡±


    ¡°Pigs shouldn¡¯t be able to break windows by squealing either, yet here we are,¡± he replied glibly. ¡°I¡¯m gonna try it.¡±


    ¡°Too late,¡± The Captain said, looking up from the corpse and grinning. The juggernaut armour was nowhere to be seen. The man laid, mostly intact, in the place where the suit had been. His head looked like a crushed watermelon. ¡°It was a card, a few cards actually. I¡¯ve taken two of them. There are two more here we can give to the kids.¡±


    John and Truffle both looked at each other as the grinning, blood covered man held out two shining metal cards, then John nodded.


    ¡°Good idea, do you think those other guys had cards too?¡±


    ¡°They didn¡¯t,¡± Beverly said in low voice, ¡°I already checked. It was just this guy. Maybe that was why they were gunning for us so hard, they needed our cards to get through the gate.¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± John replied, but he still felt like there was more too it. Something he couldn¡¯t quite put his finger on.


    Jo Ren is going to make a move on you, watch you back.


    Buck¡¯s warning reverberated in John¡¯s head like a thumping Viking battle song. Was this what he¡¯d meant? Surely Jo Ren would have done something grander? The guy was the head of the Jellyfish Collective, a multi-system conglomerate involved with facilitating the game itself. John¡¯s brain hurt as he tried to piece it all together. If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that there was still more pain and fighting to come. Their little alliance needed to be ready for it.


    ¡°What do they do?¡± Truffle asked The Captain, referencing the cards he had taken.


    ¡°One of them gives you the juggernaut armour, the other gives you the AA-12. So now, I have two different shotgun cards, armour, and infinite ammo that I don¡¯t have to load. Those are my four cards.¡±


    As he finished up his sentence, Beverly began to glow. His eyes rolled back into his head, his broken arm snapped and cracked back into place like something from a horror movie. Then he refocused, the glow disappeared and he was left panting and grinning wildly on the floor.


    ¡°Holy shit,¡± he panted, ¡°that¡¯s fucking awesome!¡±


    ¡°What is?¡± Truffle and John said together.


    <u>Beverly_Jones: </u>I don¡¯t want to say this out loud just yet since we¡¯re always being watched. But my fifth card just manifested. It fixed my arm and gave me a dual wielding skill that means I can use both shotguns at once, one per hand, without breaking my arm again. My bones are made of some weird alien metal now, I¡¯m like Wolverine!


    <u>Truffle: </u>Wow that¡¯s amazing! But where was that concern for privacy a minute ago?


    <u>John Doe: </u>That¡¯s useful, having a tank build will come in handy. But how can you use a pump action with one hand?


    <u>Beverly_Jones: </u>Hell if I know. I guess we¡¯ll find out.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± Lilia asked, pulling John¡¯s attention away from the chat.


    He turned, with a furrowed brow, looking towards the innocent little girl and his mouth fell open with shock and horror.


    Stood before her was Joanna, Selina, and Horatio. Selina leaned heavily on Horatio, one of her legs was missing. She looked positively furious as she glared at John, refusing to take her eyes off him.


    Before he had a chance to equip his guns, before he could even wonder how they¡¯d managed to get there, Joanna reached out with an evil smile and plunged her hand straight into Lilia¡¯s heart.


    The girl gasped as the card was yanked from her soul space. Immediately her metal limbs disappeared and she fell to the floor, gasping like she was going to be sick, as she stared helplessly up at the woman.


    ¡°Nice to see you again John Doe,¡± she said, ¡°Jo Ren sends his regards.¡±


    With widened eyes, John dived towards her, pulling out both of his revolvers. But it was too late, with a grim half-smile, Joanna pointed her palm down towards the crying girl and flames erupted from her.


    Lilia screamed, John screamed, and within seconds all that remained of her little, broken body was a few bones as her skin liquified and turned into some weird, molten goop.


    His heart beat hard in his chest, the world span, he felt bile burning the back of his throat. He couldn¡¯t believe what he was seeing. How could she so easily murder Lilia? Lilia the sweet little girl. Lilia, the girl who wouldn¡¯t have had to suffer if he hadn¡¯t tried to save her. Was this his fault? He knew she was going to suffer if she was kept alive in this game, he¡¯d said it before. He¡¯d failed to kill Joanna multiple times now. After she¡¯d been on that alien talk show with him he¡¯d known she was dangerous. Her manager was dangerous. He should have tracked her down, he didn¡¯t even try. He¡¯d fucked up big time.


    Never leave an enemy alive. A voice that wasn¡¯t his own spoke into his mind. It sounded menacing, deep and throaty. This was your fault. You should have tracked her down. You should have ended her. You knew she was dangerous.


    ¡°No,¡± John said forcefully through gritted teeth, a visceral shout akin to a metal vocalist¡¯s growl.


    This was her fault. But the voice was right, he was too lenient. Too merciful. Too negligent. Not anymore. This time he wouldn¡¯t mess up; this time he would end her for sure. No hesitation.


    Gnashing his teeth like a rabid beast, he raised his revolvers and flicked the cylinders which lit up with red runes. Anger coursed through him, pure, vengeful adrenaline. He focused, pushing away all other emotion, all other thought. It was easy to do with the aid of his trauma nullification and emotional dampening skills. His fingers squeezed the triggers.


    The Berserker¡¯s Curse has awakened.

 Chapter 50 – You’ll Know That Feeling One Day

    New Quest:


    Berserker¡¯s Curse


    Objectives:


    Resist the curse 0/1


    Or


    Give into the curse 0/1


    Reward:


    The reward will change depending on which objective you complete.


    John¡¯s hands glowed with a mix of black and red, it was like a thick aura surrounded his skin. He felt something unlock within him; his interface went down just after the quest appeared. Resit or give in. He didn¡¯t know what that meant but he felt power coursing thought him. Power, and pure unadulterated rage.


    Yes! The disembodied voice in his head screamed in its throaty, demonic way. It was louder now, loud enough to block out everyone else. Kill, kill, kill!


    He obliged.


    Squeezing the triggers of his revolvers, dragon¡¯s breath rounds exploded out of both barrels. Joanna threw herself to the floor, raising an arm above her head. It caught fire immediately, her skin bubbled and pustulated as the magnesium pellets embedded themselves. She screamed.


    Next to her, Selina was hit directly with both shells. She blasted away from Horati-OH and flew into the back wall with a sickening crunch. Flames exploded from her chest, her scream a beautiful crescendo of orchestral wonder.


    More, give me more!


    Selina¡¯s hair burned up almost immediately, her entire body was aflame. She looked like the Human Torch from the Marvel comics but with the face of Stormfront in the later seasons of The Boys. It was horrific, it was perfect.


    Her face melted, crackling and popping as skin dripped down her chin revealing bones and teeth. John didn¡¯t even consider putting her out of her misery. She deserved to die slowly, painfully. They all did.


    Horatio¡¯s arm melted away, leaving only bone and blood and, as Selina¡¯s screams began to die out, his eyes refocused. He looked around dazedly, confusion lighting up his features. No longer enthralled, he looked towards John and then down at his arm and screamed.


    ¡°What the fuck is going on?¡± He asked, whimpering. ¡°Where am I? Captain?¡± His gaze found The Captain who was still crouched down next to the juggernaut¡¯s corpse. He looked shell shocked, staring at Lilia, at John. His gaze was uncomprehending.


    Truffle ran to him, headbutting the dazed man on the chin. That snapped him out of it. ¡°Boss can handle this, but we need to go!¡± He said, he sounded scared. John didn¡¯t register it, his mind had a single track, a single mission, and it was not yet complete.


    Staring down at Joanna, his vision swam with the memories of the Johnson¡¯s burnt corpses, of the ¡°mercy¡± killing she had so enjoyed when they¡¯d met. Of her hunting him down in the forest during the tournament. He seethed as their eyes met. He seethed, because she looked happy.


    Kill her, do it now! The voice said and John faltered.


    ¡°What the fuck are you?¡± He said, ¡°get out of my head!¡±


    I am known as the Cursed Berserker. I am inside you. I am you. Lend me your body and I can give you power beyond your wildest dreams. I can give you the power to live. To survive this game. Maybe even to kill those responsible.


    Horati-OH stumbled past him, brushing against his shoulder as he tried to reach the exit and the others. Without a second thought, John raised one of his pistols, still on the dragon¡¯s breath cylinder, and pulled the trigger. He barely heard the man¡¯s scream as he dropped to the floor in a heap behind him.


    ¡°I¡¯m not giving anyone my body,¡± he protested, ¡°get the fuck out of my head!¡±


    Remember the quest? Resit or give in. The voice asked, its throaty sound carrying a slight hiss now. The rewards change depending on what you choose. If you resist, you¡¯ll get a bland card power, one that will not serve you well. If you give in, I will bestow upon you a power that could shake the very heavens. A power that could save your life, and the lives of those you love.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    John was about to reply when out of the corner of his eye he saw Joanna lifting her hand. There was no time to dodge. Throwing his arms in front of his face was all he had time to do. The damned Berserker had distracted him and now he was going to die. There was no surviving her flames. She had literally melted Lilia.


    Let me give you a glimpse of my power. Power that could be yours.


    His skin tightened; he could feel it. Adamantite-lite activated and all of his flesh turned to adamantium. Flames lashed over him, he couldn¡¯t see, but neither did he feel any pain.


    ¡°You¡¯re weak, John Doe! Why haven¡¯t you killed me? You have every reason to. You¡¯re weak. You need to be strong if you want to kill them.¡± Joanna screamed as a cyclone of flames erupted from her hands, John barely heard her. All of her cards worked in tandem, they were a true representation of the power one could yield if their cards had the right synchronicity.


    And yet, John felt nothing. He was completely protected by his own card. A card that, until that moment, barely had enough power to form knuckle dusters. Was this what the Berserker had meant? Was this the kind of power he could hope to attain after levelling up? After giving into it? He felt unstoppable.


    Do you see now? The voice hissed; do you understand why giving into me will be to your benefit? Together we can win this game, together we can burn it all down.


    John was stumped for a moment. The voice made, sense, it echoed his own wants and desires. He did want to burn it all down. He wanted to destroy the things that had done this to him, to his people. He wanted revenge.


    ¡°Boss!¡± Truffle squealed, breaking John¡¯s internal monologue momentarily as he turned his head towards the pig. ¡°Please come back to us! You don¡¯t need to do this; you don¡¯t need to become the villain. Resist! Don¡¯t let this game turn you into a caricature. There is no hope in death, remember? You have to live. You have to live as you.¡±


    As he looked towards the pig, his friend, he saw the grim look on his face. He saw the children cowering behind him, crying, terrified. Charlie clung to The Captain¡¯s leg and he had equipped his new juggernaut card. They all hid behind him. Agnes was draped over his shoulder, unconscious and covered in burns. Her chair was nowhere to be found, likely back inside the card it came from.


    All the kids were burnt. Not enough to kill them, but enough to disfigure them. Truffle¡¯s bowtie was hanging on by a thread, fire sparked at his neck. The entire building was an inferno, burning down around them.


    Joanna hadn¡¯t done this. Not alone. His dragon¡¯s breath had done this. He looked to Horatio¡¯s crumpled body laying at The Captain¡¯s feet. He was a victim. Innocent in all of this and John had killed him.


    Not like this, he thought.


    ¡°How are you still alive?¡± Joanna asked and John¡¯s head turned towards her on its own. She was standing right in front of him, hands held out. A huge smile widened her lips, she looked positively elated. ¡°I knew it! I knew you were the one!¡±


    Had she gone mad? She¡¯d never been sane in the first place, he thought. But still, those weren¡¯t the eyes of someone willing to fight to the death. They were the eyes of a zealot, someone who had already resigned themselves to their fate and was happy about it.


    Kill her! The voice screamed, do it now.


    John didn¡¯t need the Berserker to tell him, he already had his gun pressed into her chest. The image of Lilia¡¯s magma remains flashed in his mind and he pulled the trigger.


    Magnesium burst free of the shell and peppered her heart, burning her from the inside out. She seemed to have a pretty strong resistance to fire, but this wasn¡¯t just fire. The heat might not kill her but the ball bearings would. Unlike Selina, she wasn¡¯t blasted across the room. She draped forward, wrapping her arms around John¡¯s neck.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± she said and he felt her lips curve into a genuine smile as they pressed into his ear. ¡°Do what I couldn¡¯t, kill them all. Enact my revenge. Burn it all down. You are their salvation now.¡±


    Perfect! Brilliant! Superb! The Berserker shouted gleefully. This is what I need, you¡¯re the perfect vessel. Together we will destroy this world, this galaxy. The rage of an entire civilisation. Give into me and you can have it all!


    ¡°No,¡± John said resolutely.


    ¡°But, why?¡± Joanna whispered, the feel of her smile disappeared and he felt her tears leaking onto his skin. He wasn¡¯t talking to her though, he barely noticed her anymore.


    No? The voice replied. What do you mean no? Surely you can see that we¡¯re stronger together? Surely you can feel the power I¡¯ve bestowed upon you. Tis but a mere glimpse. Together we can-


    ¡°Shut up!¡± John screamed and Joanna fell from him to the floor. Her body crumpled, there were no signs of life in her. Only evaporating tears and sad lips. ¡°I will get more powerful. I will burn it all down. But not like this, not with you. You won¡¯t take my humanity!¡± The words flew from his mouth like they left a sour taste. His voice was hollow, disgusted.


    Then you leave me no choice, the Berserker sighed in a throaty hiss. You won¡¯t get the reward for giving into me, but that doesn¡¯t mean I can¡¯t still have you for a little while. The last few words reverberated inside John¡¯s mind. The insidious sound of malice. What was this curse going to have him do?


    Desperately, he turned towards the others looking directly at Truffle. ¡°Run! Get away from me!¡±


    Hahahaha! The Berserker laughed maniacally; its voice changed completely. It sounded evil, psychotic. It was no longer trying to woo him. My turn! It¡¯s been eons since I last felt a rush like this. To come alive on a battlefield full of souls ripe for harvesting, what incredible luck. You will live to regret rejecting me John Doe.


    That was the last thing John heard. His vision went blank, his body was completely numb, inaccessible to him. He was conscious, he could hear the disturbing thoughts of the curse but he had no idea what was happening. A prisoner in his own mind.


    Is this what it feels like to go insane? He thought.


    Not even close, the Berserker responded, but I¡¯m certain you¡¯ll know that feeling one day.

 Chapter 51 – A Little Push

    ¡°Run!¡± Truffle squealed, ushering The Captain and the children out of the broken Hungry Jack¡¯s door.


    The miasma surrounding the Boss was growing thicker and thicker. A maniacal laughter reverberated inside his throat, bouncing around the walls of the burning building with fiendish fervour. Whatever this thing wasn¡¯t, it wasn¡¯t John anymore.


    Sprinting from the building, Truffle led the procession of children towards the crumbling ruins of the gas station. A few corpses littered the path next to it and from the corner of his eye he saw Field Marshall bend down to steal what few cards they had as he stomped along behind them, bringing up the rear.


    Truffle knew that they needed a hefty number of cards if they were going to get all the kids through the gate, but there wasn¡¯t much time. Any moment-


    BOOM!


    Hungry Jack¡¯s exploded behind them with such force that it blasted Truffle off his feet, throwing him forwards.


    ¡°He¡¯s coming!¡± The pig squealed, ¡°we need to get to the gate now!¡±


    A huge purple shimmer lit up not far from them. More explosions, screaming, and gunfire came from that direction. They were trapped between a rock and a hard place and Truffle knew it. He would not allow Boss to feel the regret of murdering children and his friends, even if it was not him sat in the driver¡¯s seat.


    Picking himself up he continued to run, encouraging the kids to follow closely behind. At the rear, Field Marhsall pulled his newly acquired AA-12 from his card. He only had one free arm, the other held the unconscious form of Granny Ass Kicker, who was draped over his shoulder like a rug. Truffle wasn¡¯t sure if the man was just strong or if it was an effect of the juggernaut armour. Man he wished he could have gotten that power for himself. He could have turned into a bulldozer with it.


    ¡°Keep going!¡± Field Marhsall shouted, ¡°I¡¯m right behind you.¡±


    Turning around for a quick glance, Truffle saw the Boss strolling out of the destroyed building, smoke trailing behind him. The miasma was thick now, it almost shrouded him. He looked like a super villain. Maniacal laughter escaped his mouth, but his face looked pained. His lips and eyes twitched. He was fighting back against the thing that had possessed him.


    That¡¯s my Boss.


    ¡°You can¡¯t run far enough to escape my wrath,¡± John said, his voice sounded hoarse and throaty. It wasn¡¯t his voice at all, it had to be the demon inside him.


    Truffle didn¡¯t know for certain that the Boss had been possessed, but he made an educated guess. He¡¯d been talking to himself and doing things that were very un-boss-like. Not to mention that the pig knew about his card. Was this the curse?


    Lifting his revolver, Boss fired off another dragon¡¯s breath shell. It melted the ground in front of him but thankfully fizzled out before it reached Field Marshall.


    Truffle and the orphans continued to run.


    They ran past broken buildings, past contestants fighting a slew of monsters. Goblins, koalas, kangaroos, weird anthropomorphic hyena creatures and a bunch of other mobs which Truffle didn¡¯t recognise. It was carnage.


    No matter how fast they ran Boss seemed to be right on their heels. Just out of range, but still close enough to keep following them They couldn¡¯t lose him. It had to be his Adamantite-lite card, it made him faster, more agile.


    As he followed he fired off a barrage of dragon¡¯s breath shells, completely eviscerating the mobs and contestants alike. He was inexorable in his pursuit and nothing could harm him. There didn¡¯t seem to be a cooldown. Truffle had no idea what was going on. Boss was always good in a fight, but this power was beyond even him.


    At one point they ran past of militia group of contestants in mismatched armour. They all had guns, a few had rocket launchers. They stopped firing up at the huge shrimp which was harassing them when they saw Boss. He marched towards them cackling.


    They¡¯re Batman¡¯s group, Truffle thought, wondering if they were related to the Russian¡¯s who had chased them into the burger place.


    With fearful eyes, the entire group turned towards John unleashing a barrage of small arms fire and rockets. They bounced off his skin. His Adamantite-lite card was in full swing and it seemed like nothing could harm him. He was completely impervious. Truffle felt a swell of pride, he knew it was wrong to be rooting for Boss in this situation, but it was awesome to see how powerful he was, even if it was due to being possessed.


    Bullets bounced off his skin as Boss continued to waltz arrogantly towards the contestants. He fired off a slew of shells which exploded on impact. These weren¡¯t the dragon¡¯s breath; they were explosive rounds. Truffle wondered how he¡¯d gotten access to those as body parts exploded outwards, showering him and the kids continued to run towards the gate.


    They had entered a town square of sorts and there was no cover from the onslaught. Not that it would have made any difference against Boss right now. Without even looking, he fired a round off over his shoulder and the giant shrimp exploded like a blood-filled water balloon.


    Most people would have found that gross, but Truffle thought it was great. The only downside was that it seemed to cook the shrimp and everyone knew that food was best enjoyed raw.


    They reached the gate and Truffle stopped, skidding and turning towards the others. The children and Field Marhsall caught up.


    ¡°What do we do?¡± He said, gasping for breath. ¡°The kids can¡¯t get through; they don¡¯t meet the requirements.¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t there enough cards from all the people Boss just killed?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but I can¡¯t go around looting when he¡¯s hot on our heels. He¡¯s going to kill us!¡±


    Setting his jaw, Truffle marched past Field Marshall. ¡°I¡¯ll buy you some time, I can¡¯t leave him behind anyway. Start looting and get ready to send the kids through.¡±


    With a large gulp, he walked towards John whose face was still a constant contortion of mixed emotions, two people fighting over one body.


    ¡°Boss, if you can hear me, I need you to come back to us now!¡± Truffle shouted, ¡°you¡¯ve killed them all. All the monsters, all the other contestants. There are no threats left. You can do this. You can beat that thing and come back to us.¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± Boss spoke in his own voice, though it was strained. ¡°I won¡¯t let you kill them! Get out of my head you bastard.¡± He dropped his revolvers and grabbed at his face, tearing his own skin with bloodied, dirty nails.


    Truffle smiled; he knew his Boss wouldn¡¯t be beaten so easily.


    ¡°Resistance is futile,¡± the hoarse voice said, wrestling back control. ¡°I gave you the chance to join me, now I must punish you for denying me. You will be all alone in this world. Only then will you be complete. Only then will you be ready to enact my wrath.¡±


    Boss resummoned his revolvers, pointing them towards Truffle and the pig let out a pig squeal, knocking one of them from his hand. The attack didn¡¯t move the Boss one inch. It barely even ruffled his hair, and a second later the gun reappeared in his hand. His skin was entirely gun metal grey, he¡¯d reactivated his Adamantite-lite card, or at least the thing possessing him had.


    He squeezed the trigger.


    At the last possible second the hand flew to the side and the bullet went wide, blowing up a group of already messy mob corpses and showering them all with even more blood and gore. Boss was completely drenched. The ground beneath them looked like a scarlet lake. Organs, viscera and more blood than Truffle had ever seen, washed over the ground.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    ¡°Boss you can do it!¡± Truffle yelled, ¡°come back to us.¡±


    The kids began to join in, even the ones who had previously seemed catatonic. A chorus of cheers yelled out from behind Truffle and he added his voice to the mix. ¡°Come back to us Boss!¡± They all shouted in unison.


    ¡°Petty, foolish humans,¡± John said in that same throaty voice. ¡°You¡¯ll never- get out of my fucking head!¡± John¡¯s own voice overtook the imposter and he clutched his head as his eyes began to bleed and his legs shook. He fell to the ground with a dramatic thump, laying on his back.


    ¡°You won¡¯t¡­ take¡­ my¡­ humanity,¡± he said as his eyes rolled back into his head and he went still. The quiet din of post-battle smothering them all, broken only by the crackling sound of burning corpses.


    Is it over? Truffle wondered.


    11:21:32 remaining


    ***


    12:00:00 remaining


    Go, go, go, oh and before I forget, CULL THE MASSES!


    A.J¡¯s voice rang out and Joanna unfroze next to her two new companions. They hadn¡¯t even spent a full day together and she wasn¡¯t yet sure what to think of them. Barnabus had gotten them all an interface upgrade and made them form a party. If he hadn¡¯t, then she probably wouldn¡¯t have even known their names.


    The woman, Selina Kyle, had barely spoken a word. She just glared at everything, like the entire world pissed her off. It was annoying. Joanna loved unhinged people, but a big part of their appeal was the psychosis. Selina showed none of that. She had no talent for entertainment, that was for sure, she simply stared angrily. It was boring.


    Her companion, Horati-OH ¨C a tremendously stupid name ¨C was more like a golem than a person. He was big and strong but he was also enthralled. It made Joanna uneasy; the man was a liability. If Selina lost her grip on him or the spell was broken he¡¯d likely turn against them. Joanna was confident she could end him if necessary, but she felt uneasy merely being in his presence.


    <u>Barnabus: </u>Alright, as we discussed, your target should be on the other side of that building to your right. My benefactor has assured me that he will end up inside the building pretty soon. He¡¯s already put something in place to make sure he ends up in there. As promised, the girl with the false limb card will be in there too so Selina can be made whole again. Everything has been put in place. Good luck.


    Joanna didn¡¯t reply, but she did nod to herself. She was all but certain that the dinosaur was watching her anyway. He was a sly one, he had his ways. Looking to her right she saw the back of a tilted building; it looked like a fast-food restaurant.


    With a sigh, she walked up to the back wall and activated one of her new cards: Inferno. It was the perfect addition to her collection. The card enhanced her flames, making them burn hotter than was usually possible from fire itself.


    As she touched the wall, her hand burst into scorching hot flames. With some effort, she melted away the bricks and began creating a makeshift entryway into the back of the building. Thankfully, the card also made her immune to her own fire and resistant to other¡¯s. It was quite a powerful combination and, though he hadn¡¯t said anything, she was certain that Barnabus had chosen it on purpose when he gave her the managerial chip.


    Crafty little lizard, she thought with a harsh smile.


    ¡°Flame on,¡± Selina said in an emotionless voice, her dead, angry eyes staring a hole into the back of Joanna¡¯s head. They were the first words she¡¯d said since they¡¯d met.


    ¡°So you do speak?¡± Joanna replied, ¡°you like comic books?¡±


    Selina didn¡¯t reply and Joanna sighed loudly, continuing her work until there was enough room to comfortably enter the back of the fast-food restaurant. She was pretty sure the woman and her enthralled companion were only doing this to get that limb card. Barnabus had explained that she¡¯d lost a leg because of John Doe. Joanna couldn¡¯t help but see the amusement in that, though it was obviously lost on Selina.


    On the other side of the building some kind of firefight was taking place. Joanna could hear shouting and gunfire, followed by an explosion and more gunfire. In comparison, it was peaceful on her side of the building. Though there was evidence of fighting going on behind them too, more screaming, crashes, explosions. The eye of the storm in the middle of a war zone. It had somehow become her happy place. She was a completely different person from the scared, vengeful mother who had entered the first torii gate.


    Now, she thought. I¡¯m strong. Strong enough to finally end this. She shuddered, what she was planning to do went against her very nature, but what choice did she have?


    The group stepped through the hole Joanna had created and found themselves in a public restroom. With the exception of a few broken tiles and a creaky stall door, it was perfectly intact.


    Joanna wondered how the showrunners had managed to collect and then move the building without destroying it. How had they done it to so many? The entire area was flooded with random buildings from all over Australia. It was weird.


    Opening the door a crack, she peaked through just in time to see John Doe jam one of his revolvers into the helmet of a dude in juggernaut armour. Was this what Barnabus had meant when he¡¯d said his benefactor had put something in place to ensure that John was inside the building?


    It had to be and that meant that Joanna¡¯s party weren¡¯t the only ones working for this mysterious benefactor. She¡¯d been correct. She was collateral. The person orchestrating all of this wanted her to come in from the back and trap them in a pincer movement. After that, if he was who she thought he was, then she would probably be killed by that juggernaut man.


    There was no way a man like that could let her live, not after she¡¯d burned his son¡¯s avatar alive. Powerful people always had such fragile egos. It was pathetic¡­ and it meant that this was a suicide mission, just as she¡¯d thought.


    ¡°Fucking squid¡±, she swore under her breath.


    There was no way she was going to play into his hands. No. She¡¯d strike when it suited her purpose. If she was going to die here it wouldn¡¯t be as a puppet on a string. She would go out in her own way, in the pursuit of her own goals. That meant waiting for the juggernaut to either do the job for her or get himself killed. Her revenge would be enacted even if she wasn¡¯t the one to pull the trigger.


    I am salvation.


    She didn¡¯t have to wait long.


    To her surprise and amusement, as John pulled the trigger a fiery explosion was unleashed from his revolver and the juggernaut dropped in a gooey heap on top of him. That would have been the perfect time to strike, whilst he was trapped and the rest of the group were in chaotic frenzy.


    But she¡¯d been told specifically to make it a spectacle. This was an intergalactic reality show after all. She needed to make it entertaining. She needed to completely crush his spirit. Push him to the brink. Bring out the anarchist inside of him that she knew was there. She¡¯d seen it right from the start. He would become her vessel, the one to enact her revenge. She¡¯d already run out of time. After Barnabus had kept her alive with a cheat with the help of his benefactor, she knew that her life was in the palm of his hands. The hands of a man who hated her. There was no way he¡¯d let her live even if she did what she was told.


    The end of the line, but I won¡¯t go out without a fight. I won¡¯t give up on my goals.


    Once John was pushed to the breaking point, only then could she mould him into the weapon she knew he could be. If she could do that, he was all but guaranteed a top tier sponsor when he got to the next round. Sponsorship, Barnabus had said, was the only surefire way to protect oneself from the showrunners. Though it would do nothing to save her, not now. Her life became forfeit the moment Barnabus cheated to save it. The moment he allied himself with the benefactor.


    Even with a good sponsor you could still die, obviously. But if an alien mega corporation was shelling out serious space dollars to back you then you could bet your ass that they were going to do everything in their power to keep you alive for as long as possible.


    So she waited.


    She watched the redneck with the torn shirt help pull the corpse off John. She watched him desperately try to save the old disabled woman by making some sort of denim torniquet. She watched the little girl, the one with the card Selina needed, hug him and thank him over and over. Then she watched his pig trot over and start making some weird comments about eating the corpse. He was weak. He had too much left to lose. She needed him to be strong, just like she was. She needed to break him. To take from him.


    It¡¯s time, she thought, her heart pounding with the anticipation. She liked John in her own way, but personal feelings wouldn¡¯t get in the way of him becoming the catalyst with which she would meet her goals. Even in death, her fury would be absolute. She was ready.


    Killing his spirit in the most devastating way possible was the best way to further her agenda. The best way to help her reach her true goal. Originally she¡¯d planned on winning this death game and then taking her wrath to the stars. Those aliens had been responsible for killing her son, even if it was indirectly, and hell hath no fury like a mother scorned. Soon the entire galaxy was going to learn what it meant to fuck with Earth. What it meant to fuck with Joanna99.


    And John was going to be the one to teach them for her. He just didn¡¯t know it yet.


    Opening the door casually, she stepped towards the child.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± She asked, staring up at Joanna with all the childish wonder and optimism that she¡¯d once loved about her own son.


    This is a mercy, she told herself. The world is no place for children. Not anymore. I¡¯m saving her. I am salvation.


    Then she reached into the child¡¯s chest, yanking out her card. The girl fell to the floor, her steel limbs had disappeared. This was her moment, if she was correct about who this benefactor was she wanted John to know exactly who had made all this happen. She needed someone else to hate the aliens as much as she did and John was an armed nuclear weapon at this point. Hell, the man had just killed a juggernaut like it was nothing. He was so close to being perfect, all he needed was a little push. All she had to do was point him at the right target.


    ¡°Nice to see you again John Doe,¡± she said. ¡°Jo Ren sends his regards.¡±

 Chapter 52 – The End Of The Beginning

    08:34:12 remaining


    Though he could not feel, could not hear, could not see. John never stopped fighting. The entire time he was a prisoner inside his own mind, he fought. As the Berserker rampaged and unleashed untold hell upon the battle zone, John fought to stop him. And eventually, the throaty, hissing voice subsided.


    Still numb, John could feel only warmth surrounding him. It was an odd feeling, like being in a bathtub whilst under the effects of anaesthesia. He¡¯d never actually experienced that before, but he had been to the dentist after his dad had knocked his tooth out when he was a teenager. They¡¯d numbed his face, sticking a large needle into his gum, and though he could feel tools drilling and scraping at him, it was numb. That was what this feeling was like. Numbness.


    His eyelids felt heavy, large iron doors which he simply wasn¡¯t strong enough to push against. He heard voices somewhere in the distance, familiar voices.


    ¡°He¡¯s been out for a while. Is he still alive?¡±


    ¡°Looks like it.¡±


    ¡°Of course he is! He¡¯s Boss, nothing can keep him down for long.¡±


    He felt the skin around his mouth tighten, was he smiling? He couldn¡¯t tell.


    Suddenly his interface flipped back on and a plethora of notifications plagued his vision, dancing in the darkness.


    Quest Completed:


    Berserker¡¯s Curse


    Objectives:


    Resist the curse 1/1


    Or


    Give into the curse 0/1


    Reward:


    You have successfully managed to resist the curse; the following reward has been issued.


    Card unlocked:


    Berserker¡¯s Curse: having successfully resisted the Berserker, you can now level up through experience gained by completing quests or killing mobs and other contestants. This negates the use of levelling stones.


    If his eyes had been open John would have had to blink multiple times. He couldn¡¯t believe what he was reading. This card was incredible. Truffle had only reached E rank with the help of a levelling stone which Kesh the orc had helped him to acquire.


    No one could level up without them, no one.


    No one, apart from John.


    He¡¯d need to talk to Buck about this to truly understand how much of a boon it was, if it was a boon at all. It was still possible that it was a bad thing. It was possible that levelling this way was much harder than simply using a stone. He couldn¡¯t know for sure, but he had a feeling that it was a good thing.


    It turned out that the Berserker had lied to him. It had told him that the resist reward would be of no use to him and that only through giving into the curse would he truly unlock its power. It seemed he¡¯d made the right choice.


    The notifications kept coming.


    Soul Card Unlocked:


    You have now met the requirements to unlock your fifth and final card. This is your soul card, a card unique to you. Congratulations.


    The Pragmatists Guide To Surviving The Apocalypse: This card allows you to level skills and gives you access to non-system generated notifications.


    John reread the notification multiple times. Holy shit, he thought. His skills had helped him out a bunch of times throughout the first round of Battle Royale Earth. Now he could level them. The implications of that were not lost on him. He wasn¡¯t sure what the other part meant. What was a non-system generated notification? Would Buck know? Either way, he now had access to untapped, raw power. Everything was within his grasp. He needed to get to work.


    As he was about to open the final notification in his interface something shook him. Though he was still numb, he felt his body move. Was he laying down? Gingerly, and with great effort, he opened his eyes.


    Blood. He was surrounded by, covered in, blood. The purple throb of the torii gate stood regally behind his head as he laid in the gory remains of¡­ everything. He couldn¡¯t move his body but turning his head he saw a lake of scarlet. Blood, guts, viscera, body parts, scattered around him, dying his duster and his skin. His vision was crimson, blood covered his eyes, face and all exposed skin. His hair was slick with it and he could taste iron on his tongue.


    He laid in front of the torii gate. A town square of sorts. It was covered in the dismembered remains of mobs. The giant shrimp was the biggest one, it actually smelled rather nice. Had he cooked it with a dragon¡¯s breath shell? Goblins, koalas, kangaroos, stone creatures he didn¡¯t recognise, a wyvern, gnolls. They all surrounded him, corpses piled high. There were hundreds of them, maybe more.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Scattered more sparsely were parts that looked human: a leg, a few arms, someone¡¯s head. Had he done all this?


    This is the Berserker¡¯s power, he thought and gulped, struggling to make his Adam¡¯s apple move through his sandpaper throat. What would have happened if I¡¯d have given into it?


    ¡°Boss!¡± Truffle squealed, pressing his snout onto John¡¯s face. His eyes lost focus for a moment, but he felt the warmth of his friend¡¯s touch. ¡°It is you right? You¡¯re back?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s me,¡± he croaked out. ¡°What happened? Where is everyone else?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re here, hold on.¡± Using his E rank strength, Truffle nuzzled his way under John¡¯s back and pushed his torso upright. He couldn¡¯t move on his own. Standing before him was The Captain, he held Agnes tightly in his arms. He was still wearing the juggernaut suit, though it was dyed red now. Cowering behind his thickly armoured legs were the remaining kids. They were all there, all except Lilia.


    ¡°Oh thank god,¡± John said, ¡°when I saw this carnage I thought¡­¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re alive,¡± The Captain said icily. ¡°You tried to kill them at first, but we ran into a group of contestants fighting mobs and you got distracted.¡±


    ¡°I tried¡­¡± John began, ¡°It wasn¡¯t me; it was the-¡±


    The Captain held up his hand, his helmet disappeared as if he¡¯d willed it to do so. His face was a mess. Tear stained, dirty, and hardened. He looked at John with a mix of fear and repulsion.


    ¡°I know it wasn¡¯t you,¡± he said stoically. ¡°It wasn¡¯t your voice, at least not all the time. Sometimes it was, those were the moments where we managed to get further away. It sounded like you were fighting for control of your own body. We were worried you were losing. Though it looks like you won in the end.¡± He paused to take a breath, then shuddered, eyes widening as he stared at John. ¡°You have won right?¡±


    John nodded with great effort.


    ¡°Good. Listen, I stuck around this long because, despite all this,¡± he gestured to the carnage surrounding them, ¡°I owe you my thanks. Whether it was on purpose or not, because of your killing spree I¡¯ve managed to collect enough cards for all of the kids. They¡¯re going to live because of you. That being said, for their sake I¡¯m ending our alliance. You¡¯re dangerous and I don¡¯t want to lose anyone else.¡± His eyes glistened with the threat of further tears. ¡°Agnes might not make it, Lilia¡¯s dead and¡­ and you killed Horatio right when he¡¯d broken free of that bitch¡¯s influence. You didn¡¯t see his face. He was so shocked, so broken. He died screaming and you didn¡¯t even seem to notice. It was-¡±


    ¡°I was in the middle of battling for control of my own body,¡± John protested and The Captain held up his hand again.


    ¡°I know,¡± he said in a low, shaky voice. ¡°I know it wasn¡¯t your fault. I have no idea what you had to do to beat that thing but whatever it was I¡¯m sure it was hard and you did it anyway. I¡¯m not blaming you. But the children can¡¯t¡­ I can¡¯t be around you right now. Like I said, I just wanted to thank you for the cards.¡±


    Without another word, he stomped past John towards the gate, shaking. The children followed him, taking care to keep The Captain between them and John. He caught Charlie¡¯s eye as he walked past.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± he mouthed, and then they disappeared through the gate.


    Alliance: The Super Best Friends Murder Squad Alliance has been disbanded.


    ¡°I thought we couldn¡¯t disband alliances until the end of the round,¡± he said shakily.


    ¡°The round ended nearly three hours ago,¡± Truffle said. ¡°You killed everyone. Our alliance was all that was left. A.J did some flashy announcement and said that we were no longer in the final battle. It was over. In record time too, apparently. Our views are through the roof! We still have about eight hours until the gate closes, it says so on top of it.¡±


    John stared at nothing for a few moments. He felt oddly empty. Not sad, his skills wouldn¡¯t let him feel that anymore. No, just empty. Like he¡¯d lost something important. He wasn¡¯t sure why he felt that way, he should have felt relieved. The burden of helping them was gone. It was a weight lifted off his shoulder. But that¡¯s not how he actually felt, even though logically he knew that was how he should feel.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry Boss,¡± Truffle said from behind him, his voice vibrating through John¡¯s torso. ¡°They¡¯ll come around. It was pretty scary seeing you go all Super Saiyan like that. Your skin oozed this black and red mist. It was cool, you looked like an anime villain. I knew you¡¯d be alright though. No one is as strong and capable as you are Boss.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± John sighed.


    He brought up his interface and saw that Truffle was correct. They still had just over eight hours left before they needed to go through the gate. They¡¯d had twelve hours when they were first transported to the final battle zone.


    Not even four full hours had passed. The Berserker had only managed to keep control of his body for about ten minutes, maybe less. Yet it had caused so much destruction in that time. In such a short amount of time.


    Was it a glimpse of his future? Was that they kind of power he would one day command if he managed to survive and kept levelling up?


    He hoped so. With power like that he could really take it to the alien bastards who had done this to him. To all of them.


    Jo Ren sends his regards. The words reverberated through his mind, a mocking echo. That bastard was going to pay. Joanna was dead, but he was just as responsible for this. He was the real reason Lilia was dead. Jo Ren, Tanlan, all of them. John wondered if he¡¯d been right all along. If he should have killed her with a bullet before. Keeping her alive didn¡¯t give her anything, all it caused her was more pain.


    There is no hope in death, he¡¯d said those words to Anne. Were they still true? He wasn¡¯t sure anymore. You won¡¯t take my humanity. It had become a kind of mantra for him, though the more he thought those words the more he felt himself slipping away.


    A haptic buzz reverberated inside his skull, breaking him from his reverie, and he felt himself spasm.


    ¡°Oh my,¡± Truffle said, ¡°Boss you¡¯re leaking. Black stuff is getting all over me. It stinks!¡±


    The final notification blinked in his interface.


    Level up imminent:


    You have gained the required experience to level up. Due to your card Berserker¡¯s Curse. The threshold has been met.


    ¡°I¡¯m levelling up,¡± John said. ¡°Is this what happened to you?¡±


    ¡°It sure is!,¡± Truffle replied proudly. ¡°I had to shower like twelve times to get the stink out. It was really gross. Kesh bathed me, she wasn¡¯t as gentle as Mistress Anne was. I hate baths, but you¡¯re going to need one.¡±


    John smiled, at least he¡¯d be entering the next round at E rank. Together with Truffle, he was certain he could survive. He had to. For Anne.


    Another notification blipped onto his interface and he opened it. It was a chat message from Buck.


    I didn¡¯t know he could talk to us through that, John thought.


    <u>Buck: </u>guys you need to get through the gate right now! Jo Ren is furious. He¡¯s been kicking up a fuss in the council chambers since you killed Joanna. Now you¡¯re levelling up without a stone and he¡¯s convinced you¡¯re cheating. The council are about to vote on whether they¡¯ll let you live or not.


    <u>John: </u>What the hell! I didn¡¯t do anything; I¡¯ve only just woken up. How will going through the portal help?


    <u>Truffle: </u>Hi Buck! Did you see John go all super saiyan? It was crazy.


    <u>Buck: </u>I did. A.J¡¯s company have bought exclusive rights to interview you at the end of each round. If you go through the portal you¡¯ll be transported straight to his studio. The council can¡¯t terminate you there as you¡¯ll technically be out of the game. There¡¯s no time to explain properly. Go through the torii gate now! I¡¯ll meet you before the show, just request your manager from the robot.


    ¡°Fuck!¡± John screamed.


    Without being asked, Truffle gripped the back of John¡¯s duster in his teeth and began dragging him towards the torii gate. When did he get so strong?


    Unable to move properly, John looked up at the sky as a black snail trail of gunk was left behind him as he was dragged across the ground.


    ¡°Once I win this thing, I¡¯m coming for you, you sadistic fucks! Mark my words. I¡¯ll burn it down. I¡¯ll burn it all down.¡±

 Chapter 53 - Epilogue

    Dr Stein Ren strolled merrily down the rows of pods. The lab was his happy place and he revelled in being able to spend all of his time experimenting to his heart¡¯s content.


    The Ren family had overseen the creation and scientific modification of mobs for the Battle Royale game for eons. His brother, Jo Ren, had become quite influential in the past few decades and thanks to his efforts lifting the house up even further, Stein had been given access to more funding than he knew what to do with.


    He stopped for a moment to check over the work on the fiend pods. Floating peacefully in a viscous, green gelatine, the monster stared blankly out at the doctor.


    ¡°Sir,¡± one of his aides said, saluting as he approached. She was a pretty young thing. A sabbca, one of the most beautiful species in the cosmos.


    With the face of a hooded cobra, mixed with the proportions of female human, her forked tongue was enough to make anyone weak at the knees. Thankfully, Stein was only interested in one mistress and her name was science.


    Catching his reflection in the glass pod, he noted that his eyes had begun to wrinkle and red lines stretched out across his haggard skin. It reached almost as far as his jet-black tentacles, but thankfully stopped before properly encroaching on them.


    How long had it been since he¡¯d slept? He¡¯d been working nonstop since the decade leading to the new series of Battle Royale. Mob production was a tiresome job. That would mean that he had been awake since approximately the year 2010 on the Earthen solar calendar. Was that really all it had been? He must have been getting old, in his youth he once stayed awake for twice that and barely even noticed.


    His species were known for their aversion to sleep. With so much to do and so many things riding on the diligent application of their craft, there was simply no time to indulge in such primal urges. They had evolved beyond such primal urges. He shook his head laboriously at his own reflection and then noticed that the sabbca was still stood to attention with her tail across her chest in a salute.


    ¡°At ease,¡± he said lazily. Honestly, he appreciated the formality and diligence offered by the military wing of his aides, but still, did they really need him to tell them that it was alright to move? It was a bit pathetic. ¡°Report,¡± he said in system standard, the language imprinted on all indoctrinated system species from birth. A universal language, though he preferred the original language of the Jellyfish Collective personally, it was far more poetic. All workers had to use this rudimentary form of speech, though some, like his brother, refused to use it and forcibly imprinted their thoughts on people. Inside the game and on the game shows everyone had to speak the native language.


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    It was an old rule designed to keep some of the host planet¡¯s culture alive. The ISPC had insisted on it. Not that it made any real sense. As soon as the game was over, the winner and any other survivors would be forced into using system standard anyway. That was how it always was. The whole thing was farcical in Stein¡¯s opinion.


    ¡°Sir,¡± the sabbca said, ¡°a new request has come in from your brother. He has asked that you begin work on subject 14-C59 immediately.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± He smiled, ¡°this will be quite the interesting project indeed. I¡¯d seen the recent events surrounding that particular contestant but I thought dear Jo Ren was going to have him terminated for cheating?¡±


    ¡°The council are still discussing that matter, sir,¡± the sabbca replied. ¡°However, your brother has decided to begin the project early as a backup in case the issue is dismissed by the other members.¡±


    ¡°Diligent as always,¡± Stein said with a half-smile as he turned away from the floating monster and began marching down the next row of pods.


    He turned a few times, keeping to a steady speed befitting of the one in charge of the entire science division. It was a difficult job, but he loved it all the same. He¡¯d been involved with the division for fifteen seasons now, but this was the first one he had been in command of. He planned to make a big splash this season to truly solidify his role and prowess and prove that he was just as capable as his father, may he rest eternally in the mother¡¯s embrace.


    ¡°These humans are tenacious, sir,¡± the sabbca continued as they walked. ¡°We had projected that there would only be a few hundred thousand of them left at the end of the first round, but there are still a couple of million. It¡¯s quite impressive.¡±


    ¡°A true testament to their species survival instincts,¡± Dr Stein replied absently. ¡°Sadly, the council won¡¯t see it that way. They refuse to see new races for their potential, it doesn¡¯t fit their world view. They want to believe that new races are below them, and naturally that means that the blame will lie solely with me and this division. They¡¯ll say that we didn¡¯t create good enough mobs. Poppycock.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure your family won¡¯t agree with the council¡¯s decision if that is what they choose to believe, sir.¡±


    ¡°My family will do what is best for the collective as they always have. If that means ousting me then they will do it in a heartbeat and I would be appalled if they didn¡¯t,¡± Stein replied sharply. ¡°So for all our sakes, we¡¯d better make this new project count.¡±


    ¡°Sir!¡±


    They continued in silence for a short while, walking past rows and rows of pods. These were all unused. Subjects primed for creation. Turning one last time, Stein stopped in front of pod 14-C59. Unassuming in the grand scheme of the lab, a pod just like any other.


    He smiled as he wiped off the thin layer of soot which had obscured the metallic plaque below the glass pod. It said: 14-C59 ¨C ¡°Anne Greaves, spouse of contestant John Doe.¡±