"Dear viewers, you're with your permanent host of the news channel 'Time of Truth,' and the main news story of today's broadcast is the tragic death of the President of the United States of America," a well-known journalist began his broadcast on the evening program. "Air Force One crashed in the waters of the Pacific Ocean while on a flight to Australia. Jeremy Kindell was planning to speak at a meeting dedicated to the preservation of the kangaroo population, which in recent years has been actively shot by hunters who do not want the violence-prone animals wandering the streets of their cities.
"Search operations are ongoing, but the chance of finding the wreckage of the plane is close to zero. The entire nation has united in hope for a miracle, but the forecasts of leading experts are unfortunately not comforting.
"The President of France, Ellue Carron, expressed concern about the death of the ruler and promised that his country would remain a faithful ally to our state. The President of Russia also, in a phone call to our Vice President, offered his condolences and advised him to better prepare for trials.
"Analysts believe that the information about the crash was a lie and that in reality, Jeremy Kindell disappeared into a so-called 'Portal,' an unexplored phenomenon of Russian technology," the host paused and continued. "And now for other news. Of particular concern are the stories circulating on the internet that many leaders of leading countries have disappeared from the news reports, and according to rumors, they have not been seen for two days. This information is indirectly confirmed by the reluctance of the heads of state's deputies to answer uncomfortable questions and the ignoring of official requests from television channels about the whereabouts of the heads of state."
*********
Over the past three days that I had been sitting in solitary confinement, making notches on the walls, I had finally spent the accumulated Attribute points, and now my stats looked like this:
[Level 7]
[Experience Points: 64/764]
[Attributes:]
[Strength: 10]
[Dexterity: 13]
[Constitution: 10]
[Intelligence: 20]
[Wisdom: 9]
[Free Attribute Points: 0]
I raised my Constitution to ten and, looking at my torso, I noted that I had become a little more robust. My physique hadn't acquired a bodybuilder's definition, and I hadn't gained any muscle, basically leaving my build exactly the same, but my stamina had increased significantly. To test my capabilities, I tried to do push-ups, but at two hundred repetitions, I gave up, noting that the fatigue that had built up in my muscles quickly dissipated, healed by the regenerative factor.
And most importantly! I was even able to open my inventory. It took immense mental effort to learn how to summon it, but unlike the communicator's inventory, no one could see its contents. All the visualization took place in my head, which opened up simply unimaginable possibilities, and the mind-bending implementation of adding and taking things out of it almost broke my mind.
Every time I took out a piece of fried boar meat, trying to diversify the meager diet of solitary confinement, blood gushed from my nose, but the Regeneration removed all damage, and after a short time, I felt normal. The activation of all this also didn't happen instantly, forcing me to concentrate to achieve the desired effect.
While reflecting on the prospects and killing time in the spell builder, I understood a few things. The first and most important was that the bracelet took on the lion's share of the calculations, acting as an intermediary computer center. And now, any attempt to calculate a new skill caused a severe headache and another nosebleed, just like when working with the inventory. And the second, not at all obvious thing, was the importance of the last Attribute, which I had unfairly ignored.
As my voice assistant had said at the very beginning of my attempts to understand what was happening, Wisdom is responsible for the ability to make intuitively correct decisions in various situations. And after increasing it by two units, it became much easier to perform calculations. I got the impression that there was a subtle communication channel, using which I could transfer the functionality that the communicator used to be responsible for to some kind of computing center located elsewhere. And the higher the Wisdom Attribute, the greater the width of this channel, allowing me to use borrowed power.
In general, as I thought, all the Attributes are important and work best in synergy, being in relative balance with each other. The physical ones allowed me to fully use my body's capabilities, while the intellectual ones allowed me to strain my brain without consequences.
However, after thinking for a bit, I decided to keep my Dexterity and Intelligence a certain percentage higher than the other Attributes, which would be kept on par.
When it comes to the force of a punch, what's more important is not physical power, but rather the speed with which the fist moves. In a classic straight punch, the momentum is more important, which depends on the mass put into it and the speed of the movement. Moreover, according to the formula known to everyone from school lessons, the speed is squared, giving an increased effect.
The same applies to Intelligence; by increasing it, I got an increased speed of thought, which allowed me not only to think more efficiently but also to react faster with my consciousness to the changing situation. If classic boxers act on trained reflexes, surrendering to their instincts in a fight, I have the amazing opportunity to learn to control and make conscious decisions simply by developing the necessary Attributes.
I also tried to contact my parents, mentally trying to establish a communication channel with their communicators, but, as expected, nothing happened. By analogy with the functionality that I was able to get back, I think that to make a call, I would have to completely assemble the program code used for calls in my head. Moreover, I'd have to observe all standard communication protocols and manually manage all data streams. In short, it's a task that clearly cannot be solved anytime soon.
At two in the morning, the cooldown for the standard portal finally rolled over, and a request to open it formed in my head. During the time I had spent here, I had already gotten used to the silence that reigned here at night and the fact that no one walked around or checked on what I was doing in solitary confinement, so I agreed to the launch.
Apparently, due to the absence of the communicator, and also giving me an additional point for my theory about the narrow communication channel, the unfolding process was not standard and was very slow.
A small bright dot appeared in front of me, unfolding layer by layer from itself, forming a mirror-like surface that only reached its standard size after a couple of minutes. I stared at its creation, trying to understand how it worked, by analogy with the inventory, and learn how to open it myself, but I didn't understand anything. It seemed I was able to open the inventory more because it was in my skills, not because I had brilliantly understood the idea of folding and unfolding a quantum field.
Looking at the portal, I didn't see any description. Apparently, the bracelet's hardware was responsible for its appearance and provided hints. But I didn't want to just sit there pointlessly, so I gathered myself and, glancing at the surroundings, which were not distinguished by their rich interior, I stepped forward.
Appearing in a new place, I looked around in confusion and experienced a moment of cognitive dissonance. Having left one cell, I found myself in another, built of rough stone blocks, with a metal grate instead of a solid metal door. A pile of rags rustled in the corner, from which a thin, half-decomposed zombie began to rise. I instinctively aimed my finger at it, said, "Shot," and swore when I realized nothing happened. Without the communicator, which had taken on the calculations for the manipulations of matter, I couldn't use the skill. Either I didn't have enough Intelligence to visualize it in my head and start the process, or enough Wisdom for a sufficient channel width to use borrowed power.
All these thoughts flashed through my head in a second, and I struck the zombie's head with my foot, kicking it from above before it had a chance to get up, twisting its neck and throwing it back onto the stone floor. The monster didn't die from the broken vertebrae, and I had to add a few more blows, driving its skull into the wall until it finally cracked and fell silent.
There was no notification of death either, but the communicator was almost certainly responsible for that as well. I focused on the internal feeling of my progress and noted that the amount of experience had increased by ten points. This meant that this zombie was approximately Level 4, or at most Level 6.
Without moving further, I, following the example of the inventory, began to try to visualize any of the available skills, but all I achieved was another trickle of blood from my nose and a bout of a headache.
Well... It was a pretty rash idea to step into the portal without functioning skills. At least I was able to open my inventory and get out my dagger, gloves, and boots, getting a weapon and a little protection for my limbs.
I went to the grate and examined it carefully. Surprisingly, there was no entrance; apparently, the captives were locked in the cell and bricked up, with no intention of being freed. The metal bars consisted of small cells; after pulling on them, I realized that I definitely wouldn't be able to bend them, or squeeze through them. But near the wall, where the grate entered, the stonework wasn't as strong, and time had not been kind to it, giving me the opportunity to pick at the old mortar and free the metal. And here, I could try to bend it using my body as a lever. I grabbed the bars, braced both feet against the wall, and pulled the edge of the grate toward me, puffing from the strain. Stone dust flew into my face, but the metal began to give way reluctantly, and I was able to bend it enough to squeeze through.
Almost scraping my entire body, I found myself in a corridor, dimly lit by small windows in the cells. I belatedly thought that I should have looked out to see where I had ended up, but I didn't go back to such an inhospitable place and took a step forward, finding myself near an almost exact copy of my cell. The same skeletal zombie slowly got up and, stretching out its hands, walked toward me, quickly leaning against the grate and reaching its hands through the cells. It couldn't reach me, but it didn't lose its enthusiasm or desire to eat my brains and continued to reach for the living flesh.
"Hey, sicko. What are you in for?" But predictably, the undead didn't answer the question, and I stabbed it in the eye with the dagger, piercing its brain with a single blow and giving it peace.
The stonework in the prison corridor looked incredibly old, and I once again wondered about the place I was in. Are these artificially created locations for each user or are they really existing places? Against the latter theory, I had already accumulated a decent number of facts, from the weather, fauna, and flora not corresponding to the climatic zone, to strange and never-before-seen creatures, most of which, nevertheless, were the fruit of the imagination of numerous science fiction writers of all time.
Zombies, for example, appeared in books as early as the late 1920s, and since then, they have spread like a plague through people's fears and fantasies. And in recent years, their number in games and cinema has exceeded a critical level, already beginning to sate even the most unpretentious viewers.
And yet, here was another, very real zombie, dragging its half-rotted limbs through the grate, trying to grab me. After laying another piece of dead meat to rest and getting the experience points I was owed, I continued to think.
Based on the features I know, I assume that the locations in the portal are created once and are in a special space, access to which is carried out using quantum teleportation technology. And if that's the case, then I doubt they are one-time use, which leads to the question of whether the monsters in them are also recreated with each new visit. And that means someone else is yet to meet all the horrors that I successfully overcame. I hope these people find a way to counter them and are able to survive.
Another cell greeted me with a torn-out grate and a broken wall, revealing a view of the inner courtyard of the building and the beginning of a sunset. After looking around so as not to fall victim to a creature capable of twisting thick metal and also collapsing the stonework, I went inside and looked outside. It turns out I was in a medieval castle, now dilapidated and subjected to the relentless influence of time.
The inner part was an improvised parade ground, now abundantly overgrown with grass that had pushed up the stonework and reclaimed the living space, and opposite was a view of an absolutely identical wall, only without visible damage. It turns out that either the living inhabitants left this place long enough for the building to visibly fall into disrepair, but not long enough for it to be completely destroyed by time, or it was indeed simply recreated as a location in a computer game.
In any case, it didn't really matter to me, so I decided that I would think of these as real places, with their own history, since they were quite tangible to me and I could interact with them. Just in case, I kicked a piece of stone lying around, and it flew into the opening, landing on the overgrown surface and rolling along it, flattening the vegetation. Even if this wasn't reality, the detail was simply insane, from the physics to the graphics.
Putting aside thoughts about the nature of this place, I stealthily continued on, looking into every cell in search of free and safe experience. Unfortunately, not every cell contained an inhabitant, so I was only able to find three undead representatives, who were just as easy to deal with as the previous ones. The mindless body gets up, stretches out its hands, and gets its peace, quietly, calmly, and safely going to the place where they, in fact, go after death, whether it be a quantum paradise or just nothingness.
The narrow corridors and sudden turns added excitement to my adventures. The zombies, which could sense me from a certain distance, got up in advance several times and waited, suddenly trying to grab the intruder. The first time, I instinctively and without a thought, turned a corner and ran into protruding fingers that grabbed me by the collar of my T-shirt and pulled me toward the grate. Instinctively waving my hand, I severed the rotten arm that was holding me at the wrist, leaving it dangling like an amulet on my clothes, and jumped back a good few meters, hitting my back against the wall. Having barely caught my breath from the sudden fright, I, with a pounding heart, came closer and took revenge for my fear, poking the sharp blade into the clever undead that had been waiting in ambush. The other times, before turning a corner, I would listen, carefully peek, and look for danger before moving on.
And it paid off.
I turned another corner of the prison corridor, and after peeking around it, I noticed a huge carcass in a half-rotten chain mail that took up almost the entire corridor, moving away from me and carrying a huge metal railroad tie in its left hand, which had apparently been mistakenly given to it instead of a sword. Surprisingly, it did all this quite silently, stepping softly on the stone floor, and when walking, it didn't even touch the walls, apparently having moved along this route for many years. It seemed like a mistake to catch up with it and engage in a fight in an enclosed space, and I decided to follow it, finding a more convenient place to attack. Of course, if I could use my skills now, it would pose no danger to me. A few shots of buckshot would simply riddle it, turning it into mincemeat, but unfortunately, I only had my faithful dagger with me, which was also a personal teleporter.
After letting the jailer go further down the corridor, I followed. The only thing that made me happy was that the few inhabitants of the cells didn't try to give me away and didn't yell to the jailer about the intruder, but simply and unpretentiously walked toward me, despite the obstacles in the form of the limiting iron, easily parting with their un-lives, and I could continue my movement.
Turning a corner again, I saw a room where the guards apparently used to rest during shift changes. The wooden beds that had once stood there had now turned into broken pieces of wood, the stone columns supported the ceiling, and a zombie was slowly wandering in the middle.
Realizing that a convenient place might not present itself further on, I stepped forward, thought for a bit, and with a stealthy step, caught up with the undead, and in a jump, I switched my grip on the dagger to two hands and plunged it into its left shoulder blade, pulling it down with all my might. The links of the chain mail, unable to withstand the applied force, broke, and the wide cut that appeared on its back caused the monster to drop its intimidating weapon.
The guard turned around, stared at me blankly, and, swinging his arm, which no longer had a sword in it, he tried to hit me with it, forcing me to jump back. But the limb didn't move and just hung there, not responding to his desire. Failing to achieve a result, he froze and looked at his paw, which had lost its weapon for the first time in a long time. He bent down, tried to pick it up, but the severed trapezoid muscles didn't allow the arm to function, and the giant took the metal railroad tie in his right hand. But apparently, having been a left-hander in life, the guard couldn't handle his other limb deftly and only swung it, which I easily dodged.
And now the question was: how do I kill this huge undead that is three heads taller than me? While I had more or less dealt with its weapon by reaching its back and depriving it of the ability to wield it freely, to kill it, I had to damage its brain. But the task had become a little more complicated, because now it was on alert and constantly trying to attack, trying to destroy the intruder who had escaped from the cell.
Retreating, I led the monster in circles around the room, looking for a place where I could use the surroundings to level the playing field.
I saw a wide board that had remained more or less whole after the destruction of a bed, I remembered the divine weapon of destruction from the first location with the mice, I rushed to it, grabbed it in my hand, and waved my hand invitingly to the zombie. It didn't react, continuing to walk after me with an unchanging expression on its face. Looking around, I rushed to a stone column supporting the ceiling, and waiting for it to come closer, I stepped behind it.
It, having lost sight of me, took a step forward, found me again, and, raising its right hand with the weapon, tried to strike at me, once again missing and hitting the column. Dodging the blow, I stuck the board between its legs and dashed to the right, using the full force of my body as a lever. The guard's left leg twisted, and he, clumsily swinging his limbs and dropping his weapon again, fell, immediately starting to get up. Not giving him time to do so, I jumped up and with the dagger, I slashed his legs in the area of the tendons, severing the muscles and making it difficult for him to move.
Again, where is that line beyond which muscles influence the movement of a zombie, and skeletons, which do not have them, can move around? This was completely beyond my comprehension, but fortunately, this particular representative of the undead couldn't function normally with severed tendons and now every time it tried to get up, it would fall onto the stone floor.
The rest of the fight turned into a simple beating. I, coming from behind, alternately slashed its legs, depriving it of the ability to move them, and then plunged the dagger into its right shoulder blade, immobilizing its last arm, and pulled it down and to the side.
The big guy, who had previously slightly frightened me with his size, now lay helplessly, proving with his entire appearance that power, when not applied at the right moment, is practically useless.
I walked up to the dropped weapon and tried to lift it. I managed to take it in my hands with great difficulty, but I couldn't swing it, while the zombie had calmly swung it with one hand. Wow, the strength of its rotted muscles was mind-blowing.
I thought about putting its weapon in my inventory, but I critically examined the weapon again, noted the disgusting quality of the metal and all its merits, which were also disadvantages, of which I only recognized the weight and size. I carried it with difficulty to the zombie, raised it high, and dropped it on its head, bringing it death with its own weapon.
A passage opened nearby, leading back to Moscow, I checked my status and realized that for its death I had only received forty experience points and another hundred on top of that for completing the location. Apparently, this was a fairly low-level portal, and in principle, I could have used traps to destroy the guard, but I was a little hasty, relying on my newly acquired Attributes, which already significantly exceeded those of an average person and put me at the level of a well-trained specialist. And since I was alive and even unharmed, my calculation paid off, and I even conducted an excellent test of my Attributes. I easily dodged the zombie's sweeping blows and calmly kept it at a distance, having time to think about my actions and implement my plans.
And all this happened to me in less than two weeks, significantly changing a rather quiet and calm guy, turning him into, if only a beginner, a killing machine. Just remember the prisoners. I easily handled four opponents at once, even though one of them was a skinny weakling.
Anticipating how I would eventually increase all my Attributes to at least twenty units, I put my dagger and the rest of my equipment into my inventory and stepped into the portal, returning to the solitary confinement cell from which I had previously escaped.