The two crept out of the room and made their way further down the hall. Marcus kept his hand on Columbus’ shoulder as he aimed forward and around him. The slight shimmer of the Columbus’ shield showed which way not to shoot as the two made their way towards the chatter, steadily growing louder as they came closer.

The dark hallway led to a closed door that opened up to a large room. Through the weak light, Marcus could see open space, with crates on the other side stacked up, making a platform, and noticed the circular shape of a spotlight just before being blinded by its bright light.

Fire erupted. Marcus ducked down to take cover behind Columbus’s shield, which sparked and flared for every round that hit it. They retreated to the safety of the previous room just as Columbus’ shield broke and both took fire on their personal shields.

Warning! Shield levels critical!

“I counted about two dozen hiding behind their crate barricade.” Columbus said, pressing a button on his shield, spitting out a fusion cell as he replaced it with a fresh one. The cell landed on the concrete, smoking and sizzling. Marcus kicked it away, towards the other room for it to be blasted away by the firing squad posted in the other room. He tried to count the shots to piece how many of them carried automatics but couldn’t put a number as the individual reports melded into each other, sounding almost like a roar.

“I think I can chuck a grenade behind their barricade. It would be tight though, with that much firepower. They could easily melt us if caught in the open a second too long.” Marcus said, watching as his shield slowly ticked to a full level. Pulling out a pack of cigarette, he bit one by the end and lit it. Puffing, he reached over to the door and closed it in case anyone had the bright idea to throw a grenade their way.

There was no other way around it. They would have to fight their way through.

Columbus handed over a grenade. The thick cylindrical shape marked it as smoke. Marcus crept towards the door, pulled the pin, and opened the metal door a crack, just enough to throw the grenade as far to the other side as he could. They met him with more fire, a few came close, but no rounds hit. “How are we doing on explosives?” He asked Columbus.

“Three frag grenades, half dozen flares, a dozen chemlights, half a dozen flashbangs, and two claymores.” Columbus answered, “Oh, an one more survey charge. As for the shield, I have ten more spare fusion cells to keep it charged, not including the one already loaded.”

“That should be enough.” Marcus muttered as he waited for the smoke to develop. With a cigarette dangling between his lips, Marcus sent round around the corner, firing blindly, more to keep their heads down and keep them occupied.

Coughing sounded from the other side. The smoke must have reached them, Marcus thought. With grenade in hand, finger on the pin, he kicked the door fully open, then pulled the pin and let go of the spoon. It bounced against the concrete wall and clattered onto the floor. Marcus waited for a second, in his mind muttering one Mississippi, before throwing it around the corner and as deep into the room as he could.

Panicked screeches echoed in the other room before being cut by the clap of the grenade going off.

“Fire in the hole.” Marcus muttered, pulling another grenade from his vest. A second grenade might be a waste, but it was better than risking going out in the open and getting mowed down like an idiot. Pulling the pin, he chucked the second grenade, high and deep as he did the first, only for return fire to land by the door. Most missed Marcus, but some still found their mark, shattering his already depleted shield and hitting his arm.

Warning! Critical damage received.

Right hand crippled.

Pain effect.

Bleeding effect.

“Ah. Fuck.” Marcus cursed, pulling his arm back into cover. He looked over his arm to see blood pooling around a spot on his forearm. It didn’t look too bad. His hand was intact, but the bullet hole caused his hand to twitch uncontrollably. “I didn’t know it hurts this much.”

“Let me.” Columbus was quick on the draw and grabbed Marcus’ arm, jabbing a syringe near the wound. “You should wait a full minute to let that wound heal.”

Attention! Pain effect reduced.

Bleeding effect abated.

Regeneration multiplied.

Stress levels raised.

The sound of a grenade exploding brought Marcus back to the task at hand. As the pressure wave passed over them, the screams and moans of pain followed close behind. He threw the second grenade in a perfect arc, high and far. It must’ve landed behind the barricade and exploded.

“No.” Marcus grunted. The pain, despite being reduced by the Stimulant and virtual, was unlike he had ever experienced. “We have to capitalize on this while they’re still reeling. I’m going in. Throw in a flashbang as far as you can. That should buy me space to move around.” He said, switching his grip on the rifle to his left hand. Although not ideal, the rifle’s ergonomic design should make up with the lost manipulation.

Attention! [+3 health]

Securing the rifle’s stock against left shoulder, Marcus jerked his head to the side, signaling for Columbus to get on with it.

Columbus only shook his head dejectedly, but followed. He crept to near the door and pulled out a flashbang, throwing the nonlethal grenade inside, followed by a loud flash and a boom.

Marcus was already moving past the door as the flashbang exploded, rifle raised. The smoke billowing in the center of the room restricted his vision, but still left enough to see figures moving about in the smoke.

Marcus kept the rifle raised, his weak hand on the weapon felt strange. He never practiced shooting with his left as his chance of fighting with a rifle is slim, using his weaker side even more so. Still, within point blank range, practice and familiarity contributed very little. He centered his dot on one figure stumbling within the smoke; it hunched forward, clutching its side as it barely able to keep his grip on his weapon.

With a single shot hitting center mass, Marcus took the figure down. Stepping through the smoke and up the barricade, Marcus witnessed what he could succinctly describe as carnage. Limbs laid on the floor, their owner out of sight, bodies mangled by the storm of shrapnel, lay in pools of blood.

Untouched survivors stumbled around, slipping on the floor made slick by the fluids of their comrades, disoriented by the flashbang and unable to fight back. It was a simple affair to raise his rifle and shoot them in the head. It felt like an execution. The wounded, seeing the fate of their companions, tried to crawl away in futility as Marcus spared them no mercy and lined up shots to take them out.

Marcus was starting to feel sick. The little figures laying on the ground looked too much like small children. What kind of person would make a game like this? Marcus thought to himself as he finished executing the last of the goblins.

Attention! [+3 Health]

“It’s just a game.” Marcus sighed. Crunching concrete sounded behind him and he spun around, only to see Columbus looking over at the devastation. He looked up at Marcus and nodded.

“Good work.” He said, jumping over the barricade and kicking over a goblin corpse. Underneath it was a weapon, long-barreled, a bipod, fitted with a distinct squarish wooden hand guard and a belt fed 7.62x39mm. It was an RPD light machine gun.

A notification popped up and Marcus quickly swiped it away as he isn’t interested on the information.

“This is concerning.” Columbus muttered, picking up the light machine gun and laid it on the crate. “If we keep going against these kinds of weapons, then it will be more than a challenge.”

“I’m more worried about how many bodies we have to punch through.” Marcus muttered.

“How are your levels coming along?” Columbus asked, reminding Marcus to check.

Seeing as sometimes the alerts could be annoying whenever they pop up unexpectedly, Marcus made sure the day before to make a comprehensive filter on which notifications would pass his muster. It basically filtered everything except for damage reports, quest updates, mob notification among other critical information. If it brought no significant information Marcus could use within the moment, it would be pushed to the back, to be reviewed for later.

Congratulations! You have reached level 8!

“Pretty good. I think,” Marcus replied, “Got 7 level ups from that.”

“That’s expected.” Columbus nodded. “Allocate your stats while we wait for you to heal up. We’ll start moving once you get to full health.”

“Aren’t we going to loot up?” Marcus asked, looking down at the floor. Thankfully, the bodies are starting to despawn, the goblin corpses disintegrating into translucent wisps of smoke leaving random objects. Curious, Marcus picked up the loose ammunition and raised it to better see under the meagre light.

Item

Corroded Ammunition

Unreliable ammunition. May cause feeding issues, misfires, hangfires, squibs, overpressure, among others. Use at your own risk.

Pitting and corrosion covered the round, Marcus spat at it, wiping what green he could take off to see how severe the corrosion was. Looking at the bottom, the primer was unsalvageable, hard and crusted green covered it. But on the casing, the extent of damage didn’t seem too bad. As for the bullet itself, it was the reason Marcus picked it up.

The black paint on the bullet was a dead giveaway. Armor piercing. If Marcus could find a way to pull these bullets out and reload them, that would be a reliable way for him to find premium ammunition. He had seen nastier looking ammunition refurbished into looking brand new and in this game where bullets can be as good as any currency, he could make easy money.

“We still have a lot to go. And with the two of us, picking up loot would only slow us down.” Columbus replied. “And Hartdegen.”

“Yeah?” The tone in which Columbus said his name made him immediately look up.

“I know your attempt turned out to be the best way to approach this particular problem. But we only got one shot at this, I suggest you minimize taking risks like you did. I brought you here to help me complete my quest, not for you to get yourself killed. Are we clear?”

“I got it, boss. Won’t do it again.” Marcus said, pocketing the bullet. “I’ll make sure to be careful next time.”

With that, Columbus nodded. With his left hand, Marcus pressed the mag release, dropping the partially spent magazine to clatter atop the crates. Columbus grabbed the magazine and started packing it full with loose ammunition. Marcus reached to his vest for a fresh one, slotting it into the well with a satisfying click.

Looking at his wounds and how much it took out of his health pool, Marcus decided to put all his stats on constitution, boosting his health by sixty points. It wouldn’t make him a tank, but will probably allow him to take one more shot before dying.

Name: Hartdegen Race: Human Player ID: 4374711912965355 Level: 8 Experience: 1143/11268 [Equipment and Inventory]

Health: 190/190 Stamina: 100/100 [Quests]

Shield: 214/400 Fame: 28 Energy: 85/100 [Traits and Skills]

Affiliation: Renegades Hydration: 80/100 Stats Str End Cons Dex 4 (1.1) 5 (1.3) 9 3 (1.1) Cha [Empty] [Empty] [Empty] 5

With Marcus’ magazines packed and health fully regenerated. The two exchanged glances and made for the other door. And into another hall.

Moving carefully, the two checked the rooms one by one, only to find them all empty. Food, water, and other essentials were left half eaten and half drank on top of the tables, pots still boiled over the fire, simmering with a foul smelling odor. If Marcus had to guess, they had somehow caught them in the middle of their meal, and everyone who could have been in the facility had gathered around the other room.

It explained the speed with which they had assembled and the unorganized mess, which allowed Marcus to take almost all of them with just a couple of grenades. If they had been smarter, they would have held back a reserve to bolster their numbers when they take heavy casualties or at least set up a base of fire to allow a covered retreat if the situation called for it.

Marcus shrugged. It was easy to critique something after the fact, but was sure it could have been much more chaotic. Picking up a rusty AK leaning on the wall, he tested the action. The noise attracted Columbus’ attention, to which he quickly took off the dust cover and took out the bolt carrier, bending the piston and throwing it on the corner.

They moved further down the halls, past utility rooms filled with still running generators attached to ventilation systems. Panning his light, the machines looked to be maintained, albeit minimally, but still displayed the goblin’s mechanical aptitudes.

Pushing out, they found themselves back at the rail tunnel. It was a dead end, with rubble blocking one side. Light seeped from the other, but Marcus couldn’t see the source as the tunnel curved.

They followed the curving rails and found the light source. Checking, there were no goblins around, and the two looked up to what looked to be a shrine.