Jerik hit the ground on the other side of the portal, his rifle already raised, peering down his scope into the area around the Grand Exchange. About eight people were gathered on the cobbles there. His first step, easily the most important, was to disrupt the process of selling items. There were five people in front of the Exchange terminal including Magnus himself, who was inserting the items. He knew from experience that selling an item took around thirty seconds. At that rate, he had less than two minutes. He dropped to one knee, yanking on his cloak and hiding his face under it.
Just as the portal began to close, fully separating him from everyone else, Jerik reached into the satchel on his belt and pulled out two small green spheres. One [Scatterbomb] could easily take out a small handful of people who weren’t paying attention, so two should be sufficient. He pressed the activation button on top of each, then lobbed them forward. He had no time to see if they’d even worked, as he was already dropping flat on his stomach, readying the rifle once more.
“That’s sixteen of them down,” Morgan’s voice crackled to life in his ear as she turned on her comms. “You got three of the item carriers, but not Magnus.”
“Didn’t think that would work,” Jerik muttered. He’d seen the armor that Magnus had been wearing. Magik armor. And knowing the man’s wealth, it had to be Raid-Class. “Keep an eye out for me, Morgan.”
He swiveled his rifle to the right, lining up his crosshairs with a sniper he’d just seen on a rooftop across from him, and fired. He could see the explosion of items at once and moved on to the next target. There was no way of telling at that exact moment just how many snipers Magnus had set on the surrounding buildings. All he could do was keep firing, to weaken the defensive screen. It would take more than one shot to kill Magnus, which meant that he couldn’t have any opposition when he went to assassinate the tyrant.
Pull. Fire. Pull. Fire. His shoulder was sore already after four shots and four kills. The silver handle of the bolt action lever was almost a blur with how fast he was chambering rounds. Fourteen thousand points in the first few seconds. Then a bullet flashed right past his ears, the sound of its passage lost in the commotion in the town square below. He rolled to the side, coming to his knees and moving around the large chimney stack to attack from a new angle. Another shot, another kill. He missed his next shot, though, as the figure dropped out of sight at the last second.
Three more rounds barely missed him, and he rolled to the edge of the rooftop, dropping off as he was locked on. He fell nearly ten feet before he hit the rooftop of the building next to that one, landing on his backside. He went prone at once, aiming at the target he’d missed earlier, and firing once more. Seconds after that, there was a loud explosion on the rooftop he’d just occupied. Someone had thrown a grenade or a spell, but he’d already moved of course. He moved again, dropping off of that rooftop into the alley behind it.
Not the best start, he thought to himself, running down the alley. He could still hear the shouting of the people in the town square below. “A little backup would be nice, Morgan.”
“We’ll do what we can,” she replied in his ear. “There might be some people I can call.”
“Whatever you have to do,” he said. “Just do it, and quick!”
He slid to a stop at the end of the alley, realizing that he’d unwittingly run right at the main street. He craned his neck around the corner to see dozens of armed figures running down the street. Fortunately for him, their rifles were aimed skyward, as they thought he was still on the roof. He released the grip on his rifle to draw the assault rifle he’d just gained from the street gang, and leveled it at the closest soldier to him, firing in a small, controlled burst. It was a common weapon, nowhere near as stable as Maker’s Mark, but he had a strong grip, and the small cluster of bullets hit their mark, making the man explode into a pile of items.
He flicked to the side, firing in several small bursts, taking out two more before they became aware of his presence. He dove back into the alley to escape the massive barrage of counter-fire and ran back the other way. He knew he was just buying time at this point, but it was his only option. He had to lessen the protection around Magnus if he was going to succeed. If he’d just fired as he was right away, either one of the counter-snipers would kill him, or the army would have closed ranks, hiding Magnus from sight until the threat was gone.
“We have a problem, Jerik.”
“You think?” He snarled. “Where’s my help at?”
“They have a static field up in the town square,” She explained. “It’s stopping teleportation for half a mile.”
Teleportation was down, he thought. That was a problem. It was the only way that help could reach him quickly enough. “Is it Magik or Tek?”
“Fortunately, it’s Magik.”
“Right,” Jerik said. “Where is it?”
“North side of the console, directly across from Magnus. There’s a shield protecting the person who’s maintaining the field, so it will take two shots. I’m not sure you can manage that.”
“I’ll find a way,” Jerik said shortly, taking a sharp left into another alley. There was someone there, but they were looking in a different direction. He lifted the assault rifle and fired, killing them instantly. “Give me a minute.”
“You might not have a minute,” Morgan said. “Magnus is back up and selling again. He’s at nine-twenty.”
Jerik swore and redoubled his pace. “Keep me up to date every time his score changes.”
“By the way, you’re going to owe me big time for what I’m about to do.”
He couldn’t imagine what she meant by that but didn’t give it another second of thought. He took a right at the next fork, then another left, and the town square was visible once more. He could just barely make out the mage in question from this angle. Dropping the assault rifle to the ground, he hefted Maker’s Mark, took aim, and fired. The shield around the mage shattered, making the soldiers around it jump. They turned on their heels, weapons ready, and fired. Jerik barely managed to jump behind cover. He ran for all he was worth, making a long trip around the town square
When he came into visible range again, they were expecting him, and a bullet slammed into his upper thigh. He fell to the ground at once, grunting in pain, and rolled behind a nearby trash bin. Bullets continued to ricochet through the alley over his head, but he could see the mage through the small gap between the bin and the wall. He brought Maker’s Mark around again. Just before he could fire, another bullet hit him in the calf of the same leg, and it jerked his lower body to the side, making him miss by a hair.
“Fuck!” he screamed, reaching into the satchel on his belt and pulling out his last [Scatterbomb]. He tapped the button twice this time and threw it at the approaching gunmen. The explosion nearly blinded him, but at least he was alive, and those behind them stopped at once, hesitating for a fraction of a second. Jerik took advantage of the break to release the magazine on his rifle. He could see an Exchange Drone flying down into the alley a few feet away, and he scrabbled towards it, catching the magazine that it dropped. He rammed that into the rifle.
“More ammo!” he shouted at the drone. “Max quantity!”
The drone let out a high-pitched chirping sound and obligingly dropped another magazine. Jerik’s points dropped to one thousand, four hundred and twelve. He yanked the bolt back to load a fresh round, and threw himself sideways, gaining a visual on the mage. The man was still there, as the spell required him not to move. Jerik could see his eyes widen through the scope as he realized that he was done, and fired.
“He’s down!” Jerik yelled. “Do it now!”
“You might want to bank your rifle with that drone,” Morgan’s voice said urgently. “You’re not going to survive this-”
“I don’t have enough points to bank it!” Jerik snapped. “Just do whatever you’re going to do! I’ll figure something out!”
“I’m sorry in advance,” she said. “Here we go.”
Jerik fired again, killing one of the gunmen running right at him. He could just barely make out Magnus now, or at least the corner of his face. He pulled back the bolt, ready to fire, then hesitated. In the back of his mind, alarm bells were ringing. Something bad was coming. What was it? Almost by instinct, he glanced up and saw it. A portal had opened, high in the sky above the Grand Exchange Terminal. It wasn’t one of Morgan’s usual portals.
“Oh fuck!” He exclaimed. “You weren’t kidding!”
“Unfortunately not,” Morgan said. “See you in a few seconds.”
A bomb dropped out of the portal. Nearly five feet in diameter, and bright green, he recognized it at once. It was [Deadly Bloom], one of the few Raid-class bombs in the game, capable of wiping out everybody in a quarter of a mile radius. As it dropped like a boulder towards the town square, Deadly Bloom emitted a loud wailing sound. Nearly everyone, Magnus included, glanced up at it. Jerik, knowing he had seconds, shoved a hand into his satchel, yanked out a thin metal rod, and stuck it into the ground in front of him. Then Deadly Bloom hit the ground, and everything went black.
After what felt like hours, though he knew it was only sixty seconds, he shot upright on a plain bed, wearing nothing but the basic outfit of all new players. Benji was standing beside the bed, looking distressed. Jerik let out a long groan at the thought of Maker’s Mark. He knew that, since there were no living people within a thousand meters, there wouldn’t be any dropped items. Each item that had been on the people killed was destroyed and would have to be regained the normal way.
“Well, at least that’s over with,” he said.
Benji shook her head. “No! Magnus still survived!”
“What?” Jerik spluttered, jumping off the bed and onto his feet. “You’re kidding!”
But as she showed him the screen of her tablet, he knew she was telling the truth. The leaderboard had changed drastically, as many names had been removed from the top twenty-five spots. But the top name hadn’t changed one bit.
1st: Magnus Oran (948,854 points)
“Fuck!” Jerik exclaimed, running down the hall to the meeting room. He was nearly out of time. Morgan seemed to have foreseen his urgency because she was already making a portal when he burst out of the hallway. “I need a weapon!”
She already had one in hand and threw it to him at once. He caught it, noticing that it was a pistol. Not enough time to examine its details, except that it had some kind of magic property to it. Charlie and Katrina were already armed and waiting for him. Through the portal, they could see two figures standing in armor. The one they didn’t recognize, wearing Tek Armor, lifted a heavy shotgun at once as they appeared, and fired. Jerik felt shoved roughly to the side as Katrina took the brunt of the bullets.
Jerik dove forward as the stranger fired once more. The scattering bullets just barely flew over his head, catching Charlie. Both of his allies had been killed in a second, but he didn’t stop. He turned the dive into an effortless roll, coming onto his feet and jamming the point of the pistol under the helmet. With one squeeze of his fingers, the man exploded into a shower of items.
1st: Magnus Oran (985, 918 points)
“Ahem.” Magnus turned with a jerk at the sound of the guns firing, having just sold an item, and gave a start of surprise. His lieutenant was gone. Standing in front of him was a tall and skinny figure wearing no armor, with a Magik repeating pistol pointed directly at his forehead. He raised his hands at once.
“I can give you anything you want,” he said quickly. Jerik had never heard Magnus speak before. His voice was raspy as if his throat was constantly dry. It had a vaguely pleading note to it now that he realized how close to losing everything he was. “I can split my share with you!”
Jerik smirked. It was one of the few moments that brought him true amusement when he had his opponent pinned and they both knew that he’d won. “Not a chance, friend. Enjoy climbing back up from the bottom.”
Magnus opened his mouth to speak again but was drowned out by the sound of the pistol firing.
