Volper Page 10
The first item can be crossed out: my reliable source of information has disappeared. The information, of course, can be obtained from other sources, but it’s necessary to select candidates and approaches so that the information is as complete as possible. Unfortunately, I don’t yet know the local customs and rules completely, and I don’t want to speak to a stranger about the things I know - especially when it comes to discussing the representative of the engineering department. Intuition tells me that this Mr. Gerion Carso will cause me a lot of grief.
I don’t even know where to go first. On the one hand, I urgently need to unlock my skills so I can develop them further, but, unfortunately, I don’t know how long that will take. On the other hand, I also need to get the most out of the dungeon before someone else finds it, because I don’t want to screw up the agreement, which promises the chance of making a huge profit, and I need the money to develop my character. Before I do any training, I’ll need to explore my options and make a plan that accounts for what I need and want most, as well as the cost of it all.
I’ll also have to take into account that I’m making a lot more profit with this treasure hunting, which means it’s potentially a very lucrative career path. Then again, maybe it was just this once? It could also become too expensive for me, in terms of ammo and equipment repair/replacement costs. I’m not too sure, and I hate that indecisiveness. How the hell do players handle making decisions as a bloody group?
Although, if you think about it carefully, working in groups allows you to minimize equipment damage, and only the weapons are an expenditure then, which isn’t particularly expensive. Maybe that’s how groups manage to function so well.
Tomorrow morning, I’ll have to purchase weapons and ammunition, as well as some light armor. Unless something unexpected happens, I must manage to do everything within a couple of hours, so I don’t waste too much time. Having decided on what to do first, I turned over and fell fast asleep.
CHAPTER VIII: THE CONSEQUENCES
In the morning, after I woke up and did some exercises, I rushed to the shop first, to purchase some new equipment. While I was talking to the shop assistant, I noticed a man who was staring at me in a suspicious way. Yep, lots of problems ahead. Walking around the shop for some time, I bought some plain, hooded overalls consisting of many layers of para-aramid surfacing. Making sure that the guy was still watching me, I came up to him and asked him a question:
- “Excuse me; do I happen to have a stain anywhere? I wonder if something’s wrong because you’ve been staring at me for the past couple of minutes, as if something were wrong.”
- "Uh ... No, I’ve just confused you with another person," he replied, and almost immediately left the store. Now I had a couple of minutes.
- So, what do we need? A backpack with a capacity of eighty liters,” – I abruptly turned toward the shopkeeper, talking quickly. – “Please give me one "Sturm" set, the submachine gun "Safirot", eight spare magazine cases for it as well, two "Trouper" pistols, plus four spare magazine cases for them; I also need a thigh holster, and make it a left-sided one; the Load Bearing Vest "Mac-tag", the Load Bearing Equipment "Consort", with five twenty-three by twenty-one cartridges, a thousand of them, ten fragmentation grenades for defense, two dozen offensive ones, a dozen of the plasma, sound and flash ones as well. All the grenades should have a ring safety-stop and a joint pin. Also, I need five hundred meters of a fishing line, zero two type, a night vision device with a built-in infrared mode, two bags of bandages, a one-liter jar of water, one daily soldier ration, the knife "Be-Long", in a sheath with a universal fastening and five "Crutch" knives with scabbards. If you gather everything into a backpack within three minutes, I'll give you an extra five thousand credits.
The salesman, who was standing with his eyebrows raised, listened to my monologue carefully, silently nodded and, calling his assistant, disappeared into the back room. In the meantime, I continued to look at the display, while watching the entrance to the store with my peripheral vision and paying close attention to those coming in. Fortunately, the shopkeeper returned with my order before any other observers appeared. Maybe I was paranoid, but I'd rather be afraid of everyone than trust everyone and screw up. I paid thirty-seven thousand or so.
Confirming the transfer in the pop-up box, I immediately received a second message - about the request for a transfer, only to another account, with the amount being five thousand. Smiling at the man, who was standing with an expectant look on his face, I confirmed the money transfer. I put the backpack on and went back to my room at a leisurely pace. Coming out of the store, I noticed the same dude from before nearby, who, when I appeared, abruptly turned around and stared in the opposite direction. The observer was obviously an amateur, but now I knew for sure that they were following me.
Having reached my room and closing the door, I began to prepare for my military campaign. After taking out the Load Bearing Equipment, I took off the small grenade pouches from the shoulder straps and, loosening the fasteners, put them inside the waistcoat. The waistcoat had to be cinched tightly, so that the belt of the Load Bearing Equipment with the pouches on it hung under the bottom edge of the waistcoat.
This way, I achieved a combination of these two pieces of gear, joining them into one. I used both pouches on the belt’s left side for magazine cases. I put a quick drop bag under the first one, and under the second one, I affixed the clasp of the thigh holster. On my back, at my waist, I placed two med-pads, which could serve both their intended purpose and as a chair pad. On the right side, there were three large pouches with grenades, ten in each, in bulk. I also removed the small pouches for grenades from the shoulder straps and combined them into two bundles - three and two grenades, and affixed them to my right thigh.
I put sound and flash grenades in there. The remaining ten offensive grenades were sorted out into the side pockets of the backpack. On the waistcoat, in the abdomen area, on the right side, I placed the pistol magazine cases in a horizontal position, so that they were aimed at the left arm. Mirroring them, I hung five Crutches - small trihedral knives, where one of the surfaces is longer than the others, and sharper. At first glance, it’s a toy with a blade that’s just ten centimeters long, but such knives penetrate very well and go through the armor well. The Be-Long was attached in a horizontal position, near the waist, with a handle under my arm. I’d first wanted to hang it on my left shoulder, but because of my height, it only got in my way, so I had to find a new place for it.
Putting on the “Sturm” set, which consisted of an armored jacket with a seal on the elbows, similar pants, a ballistic helmet supplemented with a half mask covering the lower half of my face, and boots with high lacing, which had, between the layers of leatherette, steel inserts on the toe and heel. I also added the unloading system to that and moved around a little. Nothing hindered my movements and it didn’t make any noise, but I couldn’t jump properly with so much weight on me. When landing, the pouches banged against my hips and my ass, creating unnecessary noise.
Taking off everything except for the shoes, I neatly packed my things in the backpack. To replace them, I put on my overalls and, picking up my Hornet, with which I’d fought against the meat-eater, I pushed a fully loaded magazine into it. Dressed like that, with the Hornet in my hand and a backpack digging into my shoulders, I went outside. Right before leaving, just in case, I checked the information of my character one more time.
First name: Volper
Level: 11
Experience: 63258/875693
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Skills:
Handling one-handed pistols - 17%
Shooting with two hands - 9%
Handling machine gun pistols - 25% (further development is blocked until the confirmation of your status as a third class specialist)
Knife / Dagger Mastery - 16%
Dressing wounds in the field- 12%
Quick reloading of manual automatic weapons - 11%r />
Quiet movement - 23%
Search for hiding places - 2%
Mechanical unlocking of locks - 5%
Regeneration - 12%
Trade - 3%
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Owners of neural networks killed:
Criminals: 2
Personal account: 157,362 credits
Backpack "Ranor"
The main slots: 1 large, 5 small.
Additional slots: the connector for the hydrator, the external system of MOLLE, weapon clamps, compression straps.
Volume: 80 liters
Load-carrying capacity: 110 kg
Condition: 100%
Weight: 0.8 kg
Boots "Sturm"
Additional slots: None.
Foot / ankle armor:
Kinetic: 8
Penetrating: 9
Thermal: 4
Power: 2
Condition: 100%
Weight: 1.4 kg
Pants "Sturm"
Additional slots: 6 pocket type
Thigh / Knee / Shin Armor:
Kinetic: 6
Penetrating: 10
Thermal: 3
Power: 2
Condition: 100%
Weight: 0.9 kg
Jacket "Sturm"
Additional slots: 4 pocket type.
Torso / forearm / elbow / shoulder blade / shoulder / partial wrist armor:
Kinetic: 9
Penetrating: 12
Thermal: 5
Power: 3
Condition: 100%
Weight: 1.4 kg
Gloves "Sturm"
Palm Armor:
Kinetic: 4
Penetrating: 5
Thermal: 4
Condition: 100%
Weight: 0.25 kg
Open helmet "Sturm"
Head Armor:
Kinetic: 10
Penetrating: 15
Thermal: 7
Power Engineering: 7
Condition: 100%
Weight: 1.65 kg
Submachine gun "Safirot"
Ammunition: 5.23х21
Range: 50 meters
Combat Rate of Fire (per minute): 650
Shooting modes: single, five rounds, automatic.
Condition: 100%
Weight: 2.2 kg
Magazine case for the Safirot submachine gun
Ammunition: 5.23х21
Amount of cartridges: 50
Condition: 100%
Weight: 0.21 kg
Pistol "Trouper"
Ammunition: 5.23х21
Range: 50 meters.
Combat Rate of Fire (per minute): 50
Shooting modes: single
Condition: 100%
Weight: 0.72 kg
Magazine case for the gun "Trouper"
Ammunition: 5.23х21
Number of cartridges: 14
Condition: 100%
Weight: 0.1 kg
Grooved bullet cartridge 5.23х21
Kinetic damage: 10-15
Penetrating Damage: 12-18
Condition: 100%
Cartridge Weight: 7.2 g
Grenade «ON-10»
Area of Effect: 100 meters
Kinetic Damage: 3-70
Penetrating damage: 1-62
Condition: 100%
Weight: 0.4 kg
Grenade «B-2»
Area of Effect: 20 meters
Kinetic Damage: 2-58
Penetration damage: 1-52
Condition: 100%
Weight: 0.4 kg
Grenade "PZ-3"
Area of Effect: 30 meters
Thermal Damage: 2-280
Condition: 100%
Weight: 0.3 kg
Grenade «SSH-5»
Area of Effect: 25 meters
Debuff blinding: 0.3-10 seconds
Debuff disorientation: 0.5-15 seconds
Destruction of photosensitive equipment: up to 100 meters
Destruction of sound-sensitive equipment: up to 50 meters
Condition: 100%
Weight: 0.3 kg
Night vision device "Satrap"
Zone of visibility in passive mode: 20 meters
Zone of visibility in active mode with infrared flashlight: 150 meters
Condition: 100%
Weight: 0.95 kg
Knife "Be-Long"
Damage: 12-27
Total length: 350 mm
Condition: 100%
Weight: 0.48 kg
Knife "Crutch"
Damage: 3-45
Total length: 170 mm
Condition: 100%
Weight: 0.17 kg
I’m far from being perfect, but these are quite good results for now. Back on the street, while I was walking to the gate, the observer didn’t turn up again. There are two plausible explanations for this that I can come up with: either I was really paranoid or the observer had been replaced. Walking confidently, I got to the pile of construction debris where the hole was. Moving through the pile, I threw the backpack into the passage, and crawled back to the crest of the pile and began to watch the road between the two large stones. Literally ten seconds later, from behind the corner of the building, appeared the head of the man and, looking around, he followed me.
It looks like our engineer had decided to play it the hard way. Well, it wasn’t me who’d decided to break the rules; now he’ll have to accept the consequences. I moved quickly, as quickly as I could without making too much noise, I crawled to the hole and blindly dove into it. Groping for my backpack, I began to push it in front of me, making my way further inside. Getting into the tunnel, I immediately rummaged through my backpack, found my night vision device and turned it on. That's better. Taking one offensive grenade from the side pocket of the backpack, I attached it to a piece of concrete, attaching a fishing line to it so that it didn’t clamp the joint pin. Tying another piece of line to the ring, I stretched it across the hole and tied it on the other side, with a minimal tight end.
Then I began adjusting the grenade further. At the back of the fuse, I opened up the whiskers and, with one hand, clasped a joint pin against the grenade, with the second one - I pulled out the safety ring. Without releasing the grenade, I unfolded one of the two whiskers on the ring in the opposite direction and inserted the rest back into the fixing groove, but only to the very edge of the whisker. Slowly, trying not to breathe at all, I let go of the ring first, making sure that it didn’t jump out. I also slowly opened up my other hand, releasing the joint pin. The hand-built tag line was ready. It would be better, of course, to take a P-shaped joint pin from the back-fitted conventional fuse or just a pin, but, as the saying goes: In the absence of a princess, we're gonna bang the female cook.
Picking up my backpack, I jogged further down the tunnel. Running past the first rat corpses, I halted. Of course, this would work on the fool, but I had yet to come across any professionals. It’s strange that the corpses hadn’t disappeared, and had instead begun to rot slightly, but that was better for my plans right now. Choosing two of the corpses that were the hardest to pass by without bumping into them, I put another grenade without any fuse under each of them, in such a way that anyone who jostled one of the bodies would detonate the grenade.
Grenades were such a useful thing! Having entered the room, I quickly took off my backpack and changed my outfit and gear out for the proper military outfit. The overalls, together with the Hornet, were thrown into the backpack, mostly to leave no traces, but I was also hoping that they would be useful to me. While getting into my gear, I noticed two new system messages:
Attention! You have received the "Sapper" skill
Attention! You have received the skill "Setting Traps"
Once again, they’ve given me the skill after I’ve already done the deed. It was starting to be a bit irritating to me, really. Well-equipped, I jogged on, guided by the map. Having reached the first door to the recreation area, I took off my backpack and took out another
offensive grenade. Opening the door by only five centimeters, I put the grenade on top of the door, unfolding it with the fuse to the wall, so that it wouldn’t allow the fuse to straighten itself. Letting go of the grenade and making sure that wasn’t going to roll off on its own, I gently pressed it through the slot with the fingers of my left hand, while my other hand slowly pulled out the joint pin.
Carefully stepping back, I picked up my backpack and moved on. If the pursuers decide to check this room, they’d have a nasty little surprise waiting for them after they open the door. In high spirits, I looked at all the possible places for setting up new “surprises,” but the area allowed for only trivial traps to be prepared. Although ... There is one option: taking out one of the rings that folded into the pocket after removing it from the grenades, I disconnected the safety whiskers. I did the same with the second ring. From the two sets of whiskers, I weaved a hook with four pins.
Having thrown a fishing line through a wire on the ceiling, I tied one edge to the ring of a grenade, and the second one to the hook. Laying a grenade in the wires under the ceiling, I installed the hook in the middle of the passage, at the height of a person's chest. That’s all. Another surprise was now ready. Such a hook would cling to any part of the uniform, and another surprise would drop down from above.
Having finished setting the traps, I found myself smiling a lot. It wasn’t something I did on purpose, used in conversations for example, but a real and reckless smile. How many years have passed, and yet I still can’t stop it from happening. It’s true what psychiatrists say about people who have been in real battles. They become psychopaths, because the tension of the fight influences the brain just like a drug, and they find it hard to settle into a peaceful life. They begin to crave the adrenaline, which is abundant, coursing through the body during a conflict, a true life or death struggle.