Reduced Numbers

Reduced Numbers

Things were moving a little fast. Not only did Player 29 freeze for a moment, but everyone else present did too.

A few of the earlier black-ball missions had shown that non-Players who went in were doomed, but the Players hadn't fared much better.

Shaja, on the other hand, seemed to have no trouble at all.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Player 29 protested loudly. "Why was his black-ball mission so easy? Is there some kind of rigging going on?"

The audience booed from outside the arena. The host patiently explained, "The surgery-watching mission requires the person undergoing surgery to be anesthetized beforehand. It seems the anesthesia wasn't quite effective this time. We thank this guest for bringing it to our attention. Our staff will be more thorough with the preparations from now on."

Player 29 was immediately met with glares from everyone around him. A non-Player walked over and shoved him. "If you've got nothing better to do, go find somewhere to jerk off. Quit making trouble for no reason!"

No one could kill anyone inside the plaza, in case it affected their score later, so Player 29 didn't retaliate. He only warned the man, "You'd better watch yourself."

"Go on, kill me," the man said, patting his own head. "Let's see if you've got the guts to kill someone!"

Murder flashed across Player 29's face. He grabbed the man's shoulder, then lifted a foot and kicked in his shin. Next, he pressed down on the man's head and jaw with both hands, forcing him to swallow his scream.

"I can afford to fail the mission. Can you afford to die? Let's see how you end up later."

The non-Player had a surprisingly strong constitution. He even laughed. "You think you'll make it through the next round?"