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Chapter 3

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As I woke up, I thought for a minute about the events of last night. Magic? That doesn't make sense. Something could appear out of nothing! But it exists, and according to its precise laws, very loosely correlated with the laws of the real world. It's all clear in the game, but in reality? How does a magical arrow form? Why exactly at the tip of the finger? Why flew into the jar and not past it? Why did it go into the wall, on the contrary, wherever I showed it? And what to do with all this stuff?

I could... I chuckled. That hoarse cackling was so out of place in the darkness of the room that I had to get up and go to the kitchen.

I could use my newfound powers to improve my life. For example, "Recovery" and "Flight" - in the game helped to move around the world, reducing the waste of movement points. Perfect for a courier!

Oops... And there's a 'Gate'! A unique wizard skill, a skill, not a spell, that allows one to place a magical portal on a memorized point. Nine points in a character's first life and one for each rebirth. And importantly, they regenerate separately from the spells. Now, with 100% skill, there should be thirteen dots. What about this in the real world?

"Gate!"

I listened. Somewhere "deep in the back," there was no other way to put it, but the void echoed. Here, by the way, was the problem - could I remember other spells instead of the ones I had in the game? There were three "Dust Storms" and only two "Divine Defences" on the ninth round, and I'd prefer the opposite. Protection from everything is much more useful to a courier than a semi-combat stun spell.

He listened again. Spell list, spell list... something moved, manifesting itself, just 'higher' than the 'Gate' timer. The list is recalled!

First Circle. First Circle. Bingo!

I knew. I just knew I now had two 'Strength, two simple 'Defences', one 'protection against darkness', two 'Create Light', and five 'Magic Arrows'.

Well, shall we take our chances? I don't really need "Defences". There's a group version on the Seventh Circle.

Forget 'Defence'.

М? Hmm? Doesn't work..

So, what did I do wrong? The wording is from the game. Everything is accurate.

Three minutes of trying to give orders to me had come to nothing. There seemed to be no way I could change my "meme," my list of memorized spells. Bad. Damn, why is it bad - I get to do magic in the real world for free, and I'm still not happy about it?

What would you have to pay for it?

What have I got to lose?

Makes sense. Let's move on.

The list of memorized stones for the 'Gate' is empty. It feels... by my lower back. Yes, that's it. Although a little higher. If it's empty, can it be filled?

Oh! There's a "rune mark", a special spell that allows you to place a "temporary stone", which appeared just before I left the game, but I didn't have time to learn it. But maybe I can create my own permanent stone?

And where can I put it? At home? That would be nice. The gate restores 68 "ticks"-hours, in the evening, would be able to ... Wait, but what would it look like in real life this skill? In the game, the "shining gate" is difficult not to notice, and they stand full "tick" that is an hour. Do I need such happiness? On the other hand, why not? How can you use the opportunity to go three times a day to any - need to check if any! - point of the globe?

Set up a gateway to Colombia, carry pure cocaine, and sell it? Ridiculous, yes. But when you think about it, judging by the game shutdown, and even on such a large scale, the old life is quietly coming to an end. If the whole world is going to break something, it's hard to stop. And I can, by the way, put a portal into which people can pass for an hour, even people who are not with me in the gaming group. It's not a cheesy "Judgment of the Gods" or even a "Stone Curse". It's serious. So if I get lit up... no, I'd rather not.

I pulled the curtains and opened the mezzanine in the kitchen. An old kayak, collapsible, in a bag, with a panel on top. And in the bag of fasteners was a bundle.

I shook out my stash. Five gold signet rings, three gold coins, and three twenty-gram Sberbank bullion bars in souvenir packaging. And a thin stack of dollars and euros. It was all the hard-earned money, mostly my father's. I had only been able to save for the last two years and kept almost everything in a bank account.

Let the gold lie, but two thousand of overseas money... Worth the risk?

It's worth it!

So to an exchange office. And to close the bank account, that's another hundred and fifty thousand. Renting a house in the countryside should be enough. In a distant village, deserted. With a cellar or a sturdy barn. I already know exactly where, although I haven't been there in five years.

Okay, stop. What if it all goes away? What if the illness had an unexpected result, and I did go crazy, drilled holes in the wall with a nail, and am sitting there, rejoicing in the "might"? And all my "lower back, higher back" is a glitch?

Let's see what's going on on the Net.

The network was not pleased me. I was disappointed with the "service is temporarily unavailable" screen saver on YouTube, RuTube, and other services. In general, the Internet was washed out pretty badly. Only half of the sites in my favorites were working. All right! Well, well, well, that's not a bell ringing. That's a siren screaming at the top of its voice! Air raid.

Whereas six hours ago, tanks and other simulators were still responding, by now, they were all frustrated by the boring "technical work in progress" sign. On all of them at the same time? I wonder what the Summon of IS-7 will look like in real life? Will my brother-in-arms become a tank himself, or will he sit inside?

I go back into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and looked in the cupboards. Well, more or less two months would do. But it would be boring. And I only have a six-month supply of Feritin.

As I got dressed, I thought about it, looked in the mirror, and made up my mind. Well, head, remember!

"He is our help and our protection." Defense. The reflection in the mirror lit up with a faint, immediately extinguished light.

"Will be like the morning fog." Obfuscation. The same effect.

"May he protect himself." Blink. I twitched at the strange sensation of 'shifting', but I didn't notice anything strange about myself in the mirror.

"For there is nothing hidden that cannot be revealed." Seeing the unseen. Nothing. Either it doesn't work, or there's nothing invisible around.

"Show yourself, you godless heresy." See magic. The image in the mirror shrouded itself in a subtle magical aura, revealing that I was wearing some sort of buffs. I have to keep in mind if I meet a visionary like me, I might get caught.

"Is the hardness of stones your hardness?" Stone skin. Ooh, what a fancy tan I'm getting!

"And the man of reason strengthens his strength". Strength? Once a wimp, always a wimp. What else?

"The sinners are haunted by evil, but the righteous are rewarded by good". - Protection from the darkness. Just in case, it won't hurt.

I could barely keep from putting on Invisibility and Flying. How many times have I been buffeted like this before a raid? Oh, I forgot!

"By their fruits, you shall know them." Identifying inclinations.

If I understand anything about life, the last spell would be most important. It's much easier to stay away from a would-be assassin than to fight him later.

What's with the memorization queue? Memorizing for three hours. Yeah, well, that's the trouble with wizards, isn't memorizing spells all the time and requiring that you have to do your magic in order because if you have to use "Defense" instead of "Stupor" in combat, that's not good. You could die.

I pulled the biggest trolley bag out of the cupboard. I can't carry heavy things, good thing the shop knows that. It's too bad the shop knows me at all. All right, I'll pretend I'm shopping for the dacha. I'm a writer. Everyone knows that. I'm going on a sabbatical, yes. If anyone asks, I'll tell the salesgirl so she'll remember the weirdo who goes to the shop at four in the morning for groceries. It's a pity they don't sell alcohol. The universal currency always comes in handy.

Opening the fridge once more, I made a list. Money? Got it.

Fingers? No trembling. Good.

Picking up the faintly squeaky bag, I left the house.

At the shop, I had to try harder. First, the grits and oil. Then meat, salt, and sugar. What do I mean, "meat"? Stew, ten tins. Pasta, as much as I could get, flour. A pack of candles... another one. And on second thought, two more packs of candles and a pack of batteries.

"Do you have our shop card? Will you be taking the bag?" The night cashier mechanically uttered the usual phrase, stammered, looked at my trolley with surprise, and shrugged.

"Thank you, I won't. Oh, I forgot, just a minute!"

I took a dozen bars of dark chocolate.

"Well, that's it now. I'm off to the dacha until the New Year. What do you recommend to get? There are no shops nearby, so I'm stocking up."

The cashier shrugged.

"Get some yeast to go with the flour. It's on the shelf over there. And condiments. And canned vegetables."

"Yeast is a good idea. And I have my own condiments there."

I took a dozen packets of dry yeast and took it to the checkout counter. Then I added a dozen small cans of tomato paste. And a dozen canned fish.

"Yes, the whole 'survivalist' kit."

With feigned embarrassment, I looked around the cluttered counter and shrugged:

"It's like that. That's me in character. I have a protagonist just preparing for an atomic war."

"Are you writing?" The man looked interested, pushing bags over the scanner.

"I'm trying to. I've read a lot of good stuff, so I thought I'd scribble something myself. Did I go to school for nothing?"

The cashier smirked:

"Yeah. But that's bullshit. In case the bomb blows off, ammunition is more important."

"Right! What shelf do you have them on? I'd like a 5.45 box or two."

"Didn't deliver yet. Come back this afternoon," the man said.

I used the card. I'll save the banknotes for now. Maybe I won't have to pay back the loans.

"That's all, thank you. What do you call the book?"

"A Nightmare in the Aspen Forest. Imagine the cover - fallen houses, ruins, a nuclear mushroom on the horizon, and mutant bears in gas masks walking through the ruins."

"Why not in the Pine Forest?"

"What street are we on?"

The man slapped himself on the forehead and chuckled.

"Well, then, inspiration to you. When you write, let me know, and I'll read it. I love it."

"I will! All the best!"

"You too."

The guard, who was napping on a chair by the ATM, didn't even wake up when I withdrew whatever was on the account. Paper, of course, but sometimes cash on hand can be useful.

Dragging the packed bag down the street, I wondered whether I should consider myself an idiot or not. On the one hand, I wasted a lot of money on groceries. On the other hand, it wasn't the last of my money, and if I was wrong, the food would last until its due date and wouldn't waste.

At home, I stacked everything I had bought in a corner and walked over to a wall covered in speckled holes from my experiments. Brick, then. Stone. Well, it's worth a try.

Taking a box of tools out of the cupboard, I started scraping away the wallpaper, a layer of newspaper, and then the plaster. Slowly, without any noise. And only in an area a finger's width and length, if I'm right, I don't need much. At last, the brick dust started. I hope the neighbors don't come running.

I sat down in front of the hole, shining a light on the visible brick with my torch.

"Stone."

Doesn't work. What had I done wrong? I went to the computer and struggled to find the log of a long-ago passage. Right, the stone was supposed to be "rune, with a pentagram". I picked up an old encyclopedia volume from the shelf, found the section on runes, and quickly translated the name, putting the runes in 'quality mark'.

"Stone - Home."

It felt heavy in my back, something pulled me back, and then it let go.

I knew I could now put the Gate to the stone Home. It felt creepy, to be honest. Something reminiscent of insanity. Maybe I was wrong after all.

Maybe, maybe. In the meantime, I'm off to the kitchen.

Phone, exact time. Five seconds of waiting and:

"Exact time. Five. Hours. Fifty. Minutes. Twenty. Seconds."

The gate is standing game hour. Let's see what the game time is synchronized with.

"Exact time. Five. Hours. Fifty. Minutes. Fifty. Seconds."

"The gate is "Home"!

I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them and looked at the glowing pentagonal gate hanging in the air, through which the living room wall was visible.

"Exact time. Five. Hours. Fifty. One. One minute. Ten. Seconds."

The gate was hovering. So, their expiry date is not by the minutes of real time. The gate in the game stands until the end of the current 'tick', so you can assume that in life, it will stand until the clock shows the next hour. Well, we have to risk it. We have to.

I put my mobile phone on the table and stepped through the gate.

The living room is a meter away from the wall. I froze, unable to move. Panicked, I tried to move, unable to. What the hell?! Whoa, easy, easy! A lag from using my shifting skill! It always happens! Relax... that's it, almost relaxed. I hope the lag doesn't last an hour.

After a few seconds, I let go and sighed in relief. Oh, my God, I was so scared!

Fingers? Not trembling. Let's get on with it.

I squeezed along the wall past the invisible boundary and rushed into the kitchen - the gate was in place. I wondered if it was possible to put them in such a way that I could see myself. It shouldn't. They're one-way. Where's the mop?

Grabbing the stick, I rushed to my mobile phone. It's mine, judging by the pictures. And the time is about the same. So I'm probably traveling within the same world. Well, let's keep it that way. I swung the mop and jabbed at the edge of the gate. At the last moment, I thought, "What if it blows?" My gut knotted in my stomach. I was sweating the moment the stick went over the glowing boundary, but nothing happened. No obstacles were seen. I seemed to have created a one-way gate that had no clear material boundaries. And only humans could pass through the gate. Inanimate objects would not pass through.

Having made sure of that, I slid down the wall and sat on the floor.

Idiot. And if there's radiation, how am I going to register it? By marking it on a mop stick? Maybe you've got radiation on you now, soon you can turn off the lights and read the paper in your own light?

What's there to be afraid of? So I die. How long have I been afraid of death? I should have died fifteen years ago, anyway. I feel sorry for my neighbors. My neighbors are decent people. Well, I hope there's no radiation.

I sat with the clock in my hand and looked at the glowing frame. At precisely six o'clock, the gate flashed and disappeared.

Staggering with worry, I reached the sofa and lay face down on the cushion.

The gate is there. The spells work. I really am a wizard from an old text game. Or I am so crazy that nothing else matters.

I'll take that as a given and... and go pack.

I have to pick up packages by eight o'clock.

Before going out, I downloaded three websites on various games and filled the bathtub to the brim with water.

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Переведено на Нотабеноиде
http://notabenoid.org/book/85480/549178

Переводчики: Camrad_RIP