CHAPTER 6

I was lying on the floor of my room, staring blankly at the ceiling, soaking the old laminate with water. It had already seeped into the cracks of the flooring and threatened to cause problems with dampness and mold growth, but right now, that was the least of my concerns.

I was enjoying the silence, the tranquility, and the absence of the sound of flowing water. And also—the smell. The normal, fresh air of the apartment, without the smell of sewage. What a wonderful thing it was to be alive.

I reached my hand up, fleetingly noting that after passing through the portal, all my wounds had indeed been healed. I lazily wondered what would happen if I were to blast my skill up at full power and freeze the apartment above mine. A bunch of corpses with a mysterious diagnosis of “death by hypothermia”? Especially since the neighbors often stomp around, yell at night, and generally drive honest people crazy. But I still dismissed the strange thought, not wanting to become a mass murderer. I threw it out of my head, turned my wrist toward myself, and looked at the time.

3:33 AM, January 3, 2033. A lot of threes. It was quite symbolic, especially considering that I had just reached level three for completing the location.

It was the dead of night outside, and despite the holidays, all the neighbors were long asleep, vanquished by an immoderate feast of Olivier salad washed down with champagne. And I, meanwhile, was wandering through fantasy portals and fighting monsters. It was a pretty strange feeling, I must say.

I got up and, leaving wet footprints behind me, trudged to the bathroom. I threw off all my clothes and, turning on the hot shower, just stood under it for about twenty minutes, without a single thought in my head, washing away the fatigue and phantom pain of the last few minutes.

By the time I came out to the kitchen and brewed some coffee, it was already four in the morning. After taking a sip of the black, sugarless liquid, which slightly cleared my head, I looked at my stats.

[Level: 3]

[Experience Points: 107/315]

[Attributes:]

[Strength: 7]

[Dexterity: 5]

[Constitution: 5]

[Intelligence: 11]

[[Wisdom: 7]

[Free Attribute Points: 7]

Sitting with a cup of strong coffee in my hand, I thought. If you get two attribute points for each level, I wouldn't be able to scatter them around and would have to choose a specialization. And then it would turn out just like in games with a classic “rock-paper-scissors” system. The strong would beat the agile but get beaten by the smart because they were slow, and so on in the same vein. And there wouldn't be enough skill points to learn everything either.

I had briefly glanced at the available Biokinesis skills back then and hadn't looked closely, but I decided to take another look.

Biokinesis: the ability to control the body's functions and genetic structure. Self-healing and mutational adaptation.

I no longer had the strength to be surprised, but here I could already imagine several possible scenarios with this skill. If it was what I thought it was, I could have taken the first slime in the sewer and, getting burned by its acid, adapted my body to it.

Of course, the question immediately arose as to what kind of monster I would end up becoming. It was unlikely that my skin would remain in the form that it had evolved into in humans. The skin’s ability to resist acids is very low, and as far as I know, it's slightly higher in oily skin. So I could assume that either fat would ooze from every pore of my skin, turning me into a mutant, or it would become horny, turning me into an armadillo.

I shuddered and put the thought of learning the skill aside for the future, when I understood all this better.

The Quantum Manipulation skill was still unavailable, so after some thought, I decided to expand my range of capabilities. I set Hydrokinesis to learn, which should work well in conjunction with the skills I had already learned. It was a shame, of course, that I had to urgently invent a difficult-to-use skill; I had planned to learn the other side of Thermokinesis and come up with something like fiery arrows that could roast monsters, but the lack of time to think forced me to do what came out.

I also decided to increase my Intelligence attribute to twenty, since it had a positive effect on cognitive abilities. At the very least, a brain would certainly help me figure out everything that was happening. I wondered how much smarter I would become then and if I would be able to compete with seasoned scientists.

The probability, of course, wasn't high, since cognitive abilities and erudition in various matters were completely different things. But if I set a goal to become a scientist, with an Intelligence of twenty, in a few years, I would probably be able to become a prominent figure in the scientific community.

I would have to read a lot of smart books to increase my knowledge base, and only then would I be able to get close to the level of truly intelligent people. Still, Intelligence, in the sense that was in the description of the attribute, was not equal to the meaning that people usually put into it.

Remembering the reward, I opened the inventory and looked at the description of the gloves lying in it.

[Gloves]

Uh… Is that all the description? I took out the gloves and looked at them more closely. They were coal-black, and they seemed to absorb light. They looked very durable. I put one glove on my left hand, took a kitchen knife, and tried to carefully scratch the palm. The blade of the knife slid off the glove, not even leaving a scratch.

I decided to press a little harder, but the result was the same. In principle, ordinary cut-resistant gloves made of aramid fiber from the nearest hardware store should give the exact same results. The only thing was that store-bought gloves had poor puncture resistance; a thin blade simply pushed the fibers apart, and the very principle of weaving such a fabric didn't protect against stabbing blows.

I took off the glove and, placing it on the table, plunged the knife into the center with a swing. The blade didn't even pierce the mysterious fabric of the gloves by a millimeter and left no marks. I filled a pot with warm water and dipped my gloved hand in the water. It was funny, but in addition to everything, they were not only waterproof but also heat-resistant. I boiled the kettle, poured the boiling water into a mug, and dipped one finger in it.

Amazing, they really were impervious to temperature. I grunted thoughtfully, put them back in the inventory, and returned to the dagger, looking at its icon.

[Quantum Effector. Charge percentage 100/100]

So, it's not a dagger? It's a teleportation device? And I noticed the numbers and saw that it was fully charged and would most likely allow me to open a portal to a new location again.

The main reward for the location that I received was five attribute points. Basically, the equivalent of two and a half levels. If I got such bonuses every time I completed a location, I could safely develop in all directions at once and become a superhuman, and then the top of the world would no longer be so unattainable.

But in any case, I didn't open a new portal today and decided to put that off for later. At the very least, I had promised the girl not to do anything stupid and to go on a date with her. And I also had a pending promise to go with her to a regular portal, which, by the way, could also be opened soon.

Oh... My father always told me: don't promise what you can't deliver. And if you do promise, keep your word and do it. It's a very good way, you know, to discipline yourself to pay attention to whom you're talking to and what you're saying. So I would have to fit a date, a meeting with the ten test subjects, and one or two trips to the portal into tomorrow's, or rather, today's schedule.

After finishing my coffee and throwing the remaining sausage from the refrigerator into my stomach, I started cleaning. Of course, I was already used to sleeping with the smell of sewage, but at home, I still wanted to rest in comfort. After quickly mopping up the puddle, I went to bed closer to five in the morning, after first sending the girl a message that I had gotten out, that I was fine, and that I was going to sleep.

I woke up on my own, to my surprise. I checked my communicator and saw several messages. One from Anya, in which she wrote that she was glad, missed me, and was waiting for a call, and the second from my parents with questions about when I would introduce them to my girlfriend and if I would fly in for Christmas with her.

My parents, of course, were in their usual routine, rushing things forward; they took any of my relationships as a sign of an imminent wedding and demanded that I have children as soon as possible, preferably three or four. After writing back to my parents that I couldn't fly in because of work, I washed up and called the girl.

“Good morning!” I dialed Anya and turned on the holographic mode.

“Max! Are you okay?” she looked at me worriedly again.

“Yes,” I replied. “It turns out that when you go through the portal, all your injuries are healed after all. That's why I was fine after the mice. That's probably why it's better to go in a team, so if something happens, they can stabilize you and drag you to the exit.”

“That immediately gives you some room to breathe,” the girl replied. “It’s not so scary to fight if you know that you'll be fine at the exit anyway.”

After chatting for a bit, we agreed to meet in an hour at the mall for lunch, then go to the movies, and in the evening, meet with all the other guys, whom Anya, who as an HR person had access to the employees' phone numbers, had already called and gathered.

Over the next few hours, we had a good time, walking around the huge mall, then going upstairs and watching a romantic Christmas comedy whose plot evaporated from my head as soon as we left the movie theater. When the time came, we went to meet with the other test subjects.

A Chinese restaurant with private dining rooms and round rotating tables was perfect for our semi-secret meeting, and when Anya and I arrived through the evening traffic jams, it turned out we were the last ones. Everyone was already gathered, and the open bottles of alcohol testified that they had already started having a good time.

“Anya! Max!” exclaimed Pyotr when he saw us. He stood up with a glass in his hand and pointed to the empty seats. “Come on, come on. We're only waiting for you two!” The beer in his hand eloquently said that he was slightly exaggerating and that the seven, or in this case all eight, people were not waiting for the latecomers.

As soon as we took our seats at the table, everyone fell silent and looked at Anya, who had gathered everyone today. She, seeing the faces looking at her, stood up and, taking the glass that had been thoughtfully poured for her earlier, said:

“Hi everyone! We all saw each other on New Year's Eve, but we didn't get to know each other properly. The loud music, the alcohol, and, of course, the darkness got in the way. But not for everyone, as I can see,” she nodded her head toward the people who were clearly already talking more closely. “But let's all get to know each other a little better. I'll introduce everyone,” the girl smiled. “For convenience, I'll name you in the order in which we received our communicators. Maxim, please stand up,” the girl said, raising me from my chair. “Number one, Maxim Andreev, our talented programmer from the software testing department, is responsible for analyzing bugs and developing test scenarios.”

I waved to everyone and gave a playful bow.

“Number two is me, Anna Mezhalova,” the girl continued the introduction. “But you all know me anyway. I'm in charge of recruiting, employee training, and maintaining corporate culture. In short, exactly what we're all doing here right now. By the way, this event is also fully paid for by the company,” she gestured around the table full of dishes. “So, help yourselves to anything you want.”

Anya took a sip of water, catching her breath, and continued to introduce the others.

“Number three, Alexey Vinoshnikov, our system administrator, whom many of you are also familiar with. The lord of printers, mice, and network infrastructure.”

The guy who stood up also gave a theatrical bow, slightly nervous, and sat back down, clutching a glass of his drink.

“Number four, Pyotr Vinnikov, who develops and maintains web applications on our website.”

A short, plump guy with glasses, who was clearly shy around the girls sitting around him, gave an awkward bow and sat back down.

“Now it's the girls' turn,” Anya said. “Number five, Alexandra Smirnova, the beauty of the design department, holds the position of design engineer and is responsible for developing technical specifications, designing, and analyzing algorithms.”

The slender, tall brunette sitting next to Pyotr waved her hand with her bright red nails and switched her attention to her neighbor, whispering something in his ear that made him blush all over.

“Number six, a destroyer of stereotypes, the girl-programmer Ekaterina Kuznetsova. Not only smart, but also beautiful!”

Slightly blushing, a short and slightly plump blonde with cute facial features stood up from her seat.

“Number seven, Anna Volkova, who is engaged in research and data analysis, the development and implementation of statistical models, and a bunch of other stuff, God knows what.”

A brunette in a strict office suit, who had come to the corporate event dressed almost as if she were going to the office, introduced herself and sat back down.

“Number eight, Victoria Pavlova, our marketer who is responsible for brand support, and she also helped me organize this event. And we didn't know the ninth person before,” the girl asked a guy to stand up from his chair. “Nikolay, would you like to tell us about yourself?”

“Nikolay Sokolov,” the tall and broad-shouldered guy with a military bearing introduced himself dryly. “I'm from the security service; I'm rarely in the office, mostly on the road and on business trips. I'm responsible for security.”

“And last but not least, Khabib Naliev, our employee from the logistics department,” Anya pointed to a bearded guy.

“Hi everyone,” the guy greeted, surprisingly clearly and without an accent. “I'm actually a medical student, and I'm just working as a loader to have some extra money. And well, I was also chosen to be a communicator test subject.”

“Well, now that everyone knows each other, I propose a toast!” The girl raised her glass, setting an example for the others. “First, to getting to know each other, and second, happy holidays everyone!”

I raised my glass of whiskey and clinked it with those present. I looked around at everyone and thought about the algorithm for selecting the test subjects. First, there were ten people, five guys and five girls. All were young and relatively athletic, under thirty years of age. It didn't look like a representative sample, where the test group should have included people of different ages, genders, and social statuses. It looked more like a group assembled based on shared interests.

After just a few minutes, everyone was chatting freely, finding common topics of conversation, and it was clear that everyone was gravitating toward pairing off. I got the feeling that the selection was conducted using a much more in-depth method, because even the programmer girl was clearly smitten with our mountain man, and he was reciprocating, not paying attention to the more flamboyant representatives of the fairer sex. And I didn't have any particular desire to pay attention to the other girls, since Anya more than fully matched my tastes.

In short, another conspiracy theory that I shelved in the back of my mind.

An hour later, when everyone was already relaxed and had had enough to drink, Anya stood up and announced the main reason we had all gathered today.

“Now for the most important thing!” It was clear that she was a little uncomfortable asking if any of those present had entered the portal and killed monsters there. Our entire meeting looked like a typical youth drinking party, not a gathering of future superhumans.

“You mean the portals?” Pyotr asked, outlining a huge oval with his hand for emphasis.

The conversations fell silent, and everyone stared at the guy who had brought up the question that was tormenting everyone.

“Yes,” the girl said, clearly exhaling in relief. “On January 1st, around eleven in the morning, everyone got a message that the subspace quantum capacity was full and a transition could be opened.”

Pyotr touched his right ear and replied:

“Yeah. I pressed ‘confirm’ and fell into some kind of silver mirror. I found myself knee-deep in water in some shallow area, and there were carnivorous frogs that immediately jumped at me,” he touched his ear with the earring hanging from it again and continued. “I swear, those creatures tore my ear off! But I killed them all with my bare hands, and an option to exit appeared. And as soon as I got home, my ear was whole again. Honestly, it's still hard to believe.”

After the guy’s confession, everyone broke loose, and they all started sharing their adventures in a flurry. But one thing was the same for everyone. After confirming, they all fell into their first portal, which formed under them. The creator of all this had a good understanding of human psychology and realized that if you gave people the option to choose to enter a portal, few would consciously decide to do it. But this forced teleportation left no choice, and the person found themselves alone with their trial.

“Has anyone leveled up their attributes or skills yet?” I decided to speak.

“Yes,” Khabib replied. “In the portal, I reached level two and got four attribute points. I put it all into Strength, and now I have thirteen points in strength. Before, my working weight with a barbell at the gym was one hundred kilograms, but today I was at the gym and was able to lift one hundred and fifty without any problem. Anyone who knows anything about training knows that such fast progress of fifty percent is impossible, unless you’re a beginner whose stats are all increasing quickly.”

“And I put mine into Dexterity, and look,” Pyotr took four knives and started juggling them. “I've never done any circus arts before, but this is so easy now.”

“Watch what I can do,” the second Anna, who was the complete opposite of my girlfriend, drew everyone's attention.

The brunette opened her inventory and pulled a laptop out of thin air. The test subjects relaxed and also demonstrated that everyone now had an inventory.

Anya poked me in the side and smiled:

“Go on, show them the power of level three.”

“I’d like a moment of your attention!” I stood up, poured some water into a glass, and walked away to place it in the corner. I stood theatrically in a pose, pointed my palm at it, and said. “Cold Sphere.”

Two seconds later, the ice frost that formed around the glass settled dramatically, and the liquid in the glass itself turned into ice.

“And here’s the real magic,” I smiled at everyone.

Khabib, who had also reached level two from completing the trial, jumped up and ran to the glass with the ice.

“Holy crap!” he said, expressing the general opinion. “My second skill after inventory is a passive twenty percent increase in strength, and I wasn't offered any magic.”

The broad-shouldered security guard Nikolay raised his hand and said:

“Ahem… Well... I also have a magic skill. I was offered a fiery arrow, and I accepted. But there's nowhere to demonstrate it here; we don't want to start a fire. But!” He perked up. “I recorded the process on video to make sure I wasn't hallucinating; look at this.”

He displayed the video playback on a hologram from his bracelet, and on it, you could see him in an empty lot shooting fiery arrows from his hands at empty beer cans, burning straight through them.

“Watch what I can do,” a voice came from thin air. A ringing laugh moved around the room, but no one was visible. “I was offered invisibility!” A plumpish blonde, Ekaterina, materialized out of thin air. “The thing is, at level one, the skill only works for ten seconds, but the description said that the more you level up the skill, the more powerful it will become.”

I was about to ask why they had specific skills and not a spell builder like mine, but I thought better of it and shut my mouth. My eleven points in Intelligence told me it was better to observe what was happening first and only then draw far-reaching conclusions. But for now, the uniqueness of my skills stood out significantly from the overall picture. And everything that seemed strange had to be attributed to the mysterious creator of the communicators. I tried to remember if I had told Anya about the possibility of construction and relaxed when I remembered that I had just told her that I had learned magic without going into details.

“And what does everyone think about what's happening?” I asked the obvious question.

“The portal will reset tomorrow, and I'm going back in,” the restless bearded guy declared. “I liked getting stronger, and I want to see how far I can go. And besides, there weren't any special dangers there, so I'll be able to handle it.”

“Wait, wait, wait! That's exactly what I wanted to talk about,” I told them about my experience with the slimes, which didn't care at all about all my attempts to harm them with a weapon. “I suggest we go into the portal in groups, because you might encounter opponents who couldn't care less about overwhelming physical strength. And if you get badly hurt in the portal, your comrades can help and save you by dragging you to the exit.”

“But not everyone even has level two yet,” Alexandra reasonably pointed out.

“Yes,” I agreed with her. “And that's why I suggest that tomorrow, when the portal resets, we all get together and go through it as a group. At the same time, we can see if the difficulty changes.”

After that decision, the rest of the conversation descended into a normal drinking party that was familiar to many. The only thing I asked was that they didn't overdo it with the alcohol, since the portal was supposed to open in less than twelve hours. After sitting around for a bit longer, everyone went home. I noticed that some were calling taxis in pairs, under the pretext that they lived near each other.

Standing on the restaurant porch, Anya and I waited for everyone to leave, and as soon as the last couple's taxi, its taillights flashing, disappeared around the corner, the girl hugged me and said:

“Well, shall we go? We can swing by my place so I can show you how I live. And in the morning, we'll quickly stop by your place, you can grab everything you need, and we'll go on an adventure.”

“No need, I've already prepared and put everything in my inventory. So show me the way.”

“It’s not far from here,” the girl said. “I specifically chose this restaurant so that it would be easy to get home afterward.”

“That was very thoughtful,” I praised her choice. “And what are we going to do at your place?”

“Well…” Anya said coquettishly. “I’ll show you my vinyl record collection. Does that answer work for you?”