Inferno (Play to Live: Book # 4) (24 page)

"Asmodeus? I'm sorry to distract you but-"

"What now?" annoyed, he kicked the door which suddenly gave way. A heavy slab of stone creaked wearily and began sliding sideways, revealing a passage underneath.

"Hope you don't mind me asking. Why do you keep your treasure in silver? Is it to make sure no thief can carry it away?"

He wrinkled his forehead in confusion. "Which silver? We don't like it here. It burns our hands."

He was a good artist. With a wink, I pointed, "Over there behind that door lie five tons of silver. Your treasury is to the left, right in front is your collection of something or other and to the right you've got a shitload of magic, right?"

Mechanically his hand raced toward the sword on his belt. Asmodeus' eyes narrowed to slits, his glare heating my armor. "How do you... doesn't matter. Where did you say the third door was?"

Already realizing I'd just put my foot in it, I waved a finger around the supposed doorway. The golden outline of the secret castle was fading as the minute's duration of the Dragon Whisperer was expiring.

The demon began tapping the colored stones.

"One stone higher," I suggested, "and two more to the left."

Chuckling, he cast an unfriendly glare my way. Still he did as I'd said.

Strangely enough, the default password worked and so did the DNA ID. The long-forgotten door creaked happily, recognizing its master.

"Wait here," he said.

He dove into the dark passage, protracting his claws, his body covering itself with scales as he walked. Then I heard him gasp in awe.

"Lords of Hell! There's enough silver here to make a thousand swords! If only I could find a master to forge them! Will I really live to see the Silver Legion bare their swords again?"

Shit. I'd given him the treasure on a platter. I had to try and wrestle at least some of it back. "May I offer the services of my Dwarven blacksmiths? For a meager twenty percent they will do their best. Plus all the transportation and storage losses, evaporation and burning out, that sort of thing..."

Asmodeus reemerged from the treasury looking pleased as a pig. He grinned, brushing off the cobwebs, "Fifteen percent. And no 'storage losses' tricks!"

Oh, well. I'd still managed to earn a little profit. I tested the waters just in case, "How about the twenty-five percent of the treasure finder's reward?"

"Don't push it," the demon said. "Didn't I help your torch? Without me it would have taken it another hundred years to align its aura correctly. And you'll have your cut on this order too. What was it you said? Don't grab everything for yourself?

You bastard! "Oh well," I decided to tease him, "Then you don't need to know where the mithril treasury is, do you?"

Why the hell did I have to say that? Now he'd never believe it was only a joke.

"Come on, then," Asmodeus' eyes glistened as he nodded his horned head at the central door. "I might find something to exchange your mithril secret for."

Chapter Twelve

A
rizona 6, a virtual reality and perma phenomenon classified research facility. The AlterWorld Division.

The Analytics and Operative Planning Department.

A fragment of internal paperwork traffic:

"Our surveillance of Puppet and other persons of his immediate entourage has allowed us to pinpoint a number of anomalies in their development. In some respects, Puppet's evolution has exceeded the results provided by both our two sub laboratories — Gamma and Epsilon — in their two years of existence. We cannot yet find an explanation to this phenomenon. Our researchers might need to gain unlimited access to Puppet in order to conduct further experiments.

The discovered anomalies include: a mass digitization of the subject's newly hired mercenaries and his extraordinary and yet inexplicable communication levels in his interactions with digitized NPCs — including the breach of their gaming algorithms and control scripts — and their joining the subject's clan.

The growing numbers of digitized children which may result in the Russian cluster's subsequent growth is a subject of our special concern. Judging by the intercepted conversations of Puppet's immediate entourage and the monitored logs from sanctioned red-light facilities, children show remarkable learning ability in acquiring certain spells and combat skills alien to their chosen character.

The Department's AI predicts that within the next twenty or thirty years, these children may grow into universal soldiers of extraordinary power. This yet unaccounted-for new factor threatens to compromise any plans we might have for bringing the future AlterWorld colonies under our control.

I strongly recommend conducting our own experiments in this domain, preferably on a larger scale. I would suggest the Boy Scout juvenile detention center as one such digitization facility. I attach the files of the hospice workers' intercepted conversations, including their comments on the "equipment malfunctions" supposedly responsible for the children's perma jump.

I would like to express my dissatisfaction with the AlterWorld Corporation's short-sighted strategy in placing the First Temple of the Dark Pantheon in the Russian zone of responsibility. I perfectly understand their initial idea of demonizing the Dark forces with the potential of starting a world war targeting the Russian cluster. Such an opportunity could have become an excellent money spinner for the corporation. However, virtual worlds have ceased to be children's toys. As a result of which, the Corporation has lost its control over AlterWorld leaving the Russians in possession of this most powerful expansion factor.

Our department has come up with a project, working title Peace, which would allow us to solve all the arising problems one at a time while removing new obstacles quite smoothly.

Here's a brief overview of the measures we propose:

1. Building up the sentiments of righteous indignation in all English-speaking clusters under the pretext of the Russians using the children as a human shield and their fraternizing with the creatures of hell.

2. Calling up a liberation raid with enough participants to guarantee our breach and consequent possession of the Russian fortifications and the containment of any potential resistance. Such a raid would need between 50,000 and 100,000 players. Its proposed objectives would be as follows:

a) the destruction of the First Temple;

b) the removal of the children and their being taken into our custody. The creation of a charity fund with the motto Children are AlterWorld's Future registered with the apparent view of protecting of perma minors' rights;

c) turning Inferno into our protectorate under the control of a particular clan group;

d) once the above goals have been achieved, a special task force should be deployed to AlterWorld with the mission to capture Puppet and his entourage.

See Attachment #2 for more details, including a complete budget proposal and human expenditure.

* * *

"This is Bedlam," I whispered.

Asmodeus stood next to me, squinting his eyes like an enormous cat. He seemed to be pleased with the effect. A vast dimly-lit hall held hundreds of human shapes — standing and lying down, some walking around with their heads hung as if in a trance. Orcs, Elves, humans and goblins... so many of them, all out of their minds.

Out of their minds. You couldn't have thought of a better expression. Their souls were stuck in the castle's spatial pocket, generating mana and in many respects deciding Asmodeus' power. The demon was no match for the legendary devils of hell with their billion-strong stores of lost souls. But the sight of even this micro-circle of hell was enough to mortify anyone.

The demon shook his hands, pretending he was rolling up some non-existent sleeves. "Come on, now!" he announced happily. "Let's pick out your raiders and their respective souls. I just hope there're no mixups. You can already get the Pain Breastplate out to save time."

A centaurus staggered past, clopping his hooves and staring blankly into space. So that's what it looked like!

I took a quick screenshot. The media would pay a ton of gold for the pic.

How had the poor wretch ended up here in the first place? I focused on his stats,

< ….. >, a Centaurus. A level-270 Mounted Ranger.

He had no name. Just an empty shell.

"Can you put any soul you like into this poor thing? Even a troll's soul?" I asked.

Asmodeus glanced at the centaurus, then looked back at me. "If the troll's level is compatible, why not. I wouldn't give my collection away for peanuts, but I'd consider the Pain Bracelet as a swap. To move a fat-assed dimwit into this brain-dead pony!"

He guffawed. His eyes, however, were sharp and serious. He wasn't joking. A body swap. Holy mama mia! Half our permas would do just about anything for an opportunity to escape their fantasy bodies!

Still, I didn't betray my excitement. Not seeing any reaction, Asmodeus upped the ante,

"How about you swap bodies with the one over there?"

A ray of golden light shone under the hall's vaulted ceiling, revealing a Drow chained to a wall. He bore a Prince's tattoo of one of the extinct Drow houses. His sculpted muscles tensed up. The chains clattered. So that was the sound that kept bothering me here!

"He's violent," Asmodeus commented. "Even with his brains leaked out, his body still tries to escape. Heroes!"

< ….. >, a Drow. A level-340 Assassin.

Oh. Actually, I wouldn't mind becoming a Drow. But I wasn't quite ready yet to change bodies like T-shirts. Besides, now that I was a celebrity, a change of face could result in a whole heap of social problems. On top of that, I quite liked my current image. My belonging to a race of Light seemed to be the only inconvenience but as for the rest, I'd already become a recognizable brand, the Dark Pantheon's face and its banner.

"So what do you think? Fancy a swap? A great new body with no financial burdens, still preserving its right to the throne of the House of Midnight? I might even help you with the level gap. That's not a problem. Deal?"

His eyes flashed with an expression that I knew very well. I would have recognized it anywhere. This had been the glow in the eyes of the insurance agent as he tried to make my mother sign a "very interesting compensation proposal" after the car crash that had killed my Dad.

I shook my head free from the memory. Oh no. There had to be a catch there somewhere. Our alliance might be rendered invalid once I changed into a new body, because formally, I'd become a new person with no claim on the demon. And this wasn't even the worst option. The unfortunate Drow's aura could be stuffed with a whole bunch of debts and oaths.

Oh no, thank you very much. If ever I decided to go ahead with a swap like this, I'd make sure it was done under the Fallen One's watchful supervision to ensure myself from any potential surprises.

But all in all, this was brilliant. I could imagine the AlterWorld community shake in a frenzy the moment I auctioned the following lot:

Permas only! We'll change your race, class or gender by transferring your identity into a new avatar. Pricey!

They would tear me to pieces! How many hundreds of thousands of us were suffering in incompatible bodies? Being an ogre could be a lot of fun, provided you avoided mirrors and had a penchant for two-thousand-pound ladies.

Especially when there were so many half-naked girls and stunning Elfas running about. And you had to give them all a miss. You were meant to date chicks the size of a minibus.

I made up my mind.

"Five," I said. "Five replacement bodies for one Pain artifact. Don't you forget I have Verenus' Summoning Seal. We'll smoke him twice a year until we get you a full set. What would you say to that?"

He chewed on his lower lip. I could see that he really wanted to get the legendary armor — but as any true collector, he hated parting with his exhibits. Finally he made up his mind,

"Two."

"Nope. The artifact costs much more than that. Call it four. But none of that mind programming and other shticks of yours!"

Asmodeus shuffled around a bit, then sliced the air with his hand, "May the angels take you! Three. And the mithril stash that you promised."

I knew it! "Sorry, man. It was a joke, I swear. There are no more stashes in this castle. Only some petty cash stuffed in corners. Just bending down to pick it up would be below you. Let's do it this way. When you take over a castle, just give me a call. I'll scan it from top to bottom for a meager twenty-five percent. Which is non-negotiable!"

I barked the last words seeing him open his mouth to object. He cringed but swallowed it, mumbling unhappily, "That'll be Verenus' Citadel in five days or so. By then I'll restore my army and take over his unclaimed lands. I don't think any other Higher Ones will want to march out before they get a grip on the situation. They've probably already scratched their heads raw trying to figure out our two armies' strategy!"

He guffawed, then turned serious again. "But, you know... Be prepared, okay? Just in case I might need your swords. My own army is the size of a cherub's dick!"

I smiled. Still, I wasn't comfortable with the schedule. "I might need your help too, man. In three or four days we're about to face the mother of all battles. The skies will shudder. I am the First Priest, you know, and I'm obliged to defend the First Temple, and its defenses are already bursting like a bunch of turtles being squashed by an elephant. They might try to make an example out of us. The Light bastards will bring at least five thousand people — or even more if they promise enough freebies. In other words, I suggest you give Verenus' lands a miss for the moment. You need to spare your army. And once it's over, I'll help you too, depend upon it. It's just that saving the Temple is a priority."

The demon paused, thinking. He couldn't have been happy at the prospect of walking into somebody else's dogfight — especially considering his already precarious position.

I decided to up the ante, "You need to understand. If I'm gone, others will keep coming. Over there," I pointed an unsure finger at the ceiling, "we have sixty million people, all eager to lay their greedy mitts on someone else's property. You won't be able to stand against them on your own even if you tried to split into a dozen little demons!"

Eh? What was the name of that skill, Splitting? The one I'd got when I'd drunk the Unknown Skill Elixir? With the 86 available talent points that I now had, it could lead to some very interesting configurations...

Never mind. I'd have to look into it back home. Time to fold up this show. We had to rush. "So, I'm now leaving you three hundred female Ear Cutters and some clan member volunteers, simply to ward off any potential visitors. In the meantime you might try to teach them some of your demonic tricks. You never know, it might just work. I'll send word in a few days' time, so be prepared. It's going to be one hell of a battle. It's not a game any more so you'd better take it seriously. Whatever souls you take prisoner, please don't torment them too hard. I might arrange to ransom them off for a modest fee."

The demon's visage was gradually clearing. He seemed to like my scenario.

"So this seems to be it, regarding the body swap and defense support," I summed up. "What about the prisoners?"

Asmodeus shrugged the question away. "I've already released the disembodied ones. The rest will be taken out in a moment so I can match souls to their hosts. No good them hanging around here."

"Mind showing me the goods? I'd like to know what I'm paying for."

He chuckled but showed me around the room rather eagerly. I took screenshots of the characters I saw, amazed every time at the game designers' sick imagination. Aha, there were the three demons he'd captured, his adversaries. So!
Body swap requirements: level 666.
I didn't like the sound of it. Besides, there was no one of that muscle power in the whole of AlterWorld yet.

Having said that, after the arrival of Macaria with her cheat ability I wasn't sure of anything anymore. I wasn't even sure if her ability was a good thing, after all. Before its advent we'd only had isolated incidents of slavery while now it was a lucrative business indeed — and a powerful strategic resource of the clusters involved.