Crow and the Dead (II)

Lin An had originally planned to use the crow's cries as cover, then sneak up to the enemy—or get behind them—and open fire without warning.

But when he saw the six boxes formed by the Bullet Screen, he knew his original plan was too risky. These enemies weren't a rabble; they hadn't left him any obvious opening to exploit.

[Streamer, don't go over there. They're all veterans, and their coordination is way too good.]

[Right. They're advancing from both sides, keeping exactly the same pace.]

Lin An stood in the shadows at the corridor corner, his back against the wall. The yellow glow of the emergency light shone from behind him, casting a small, indistinct shadow at his feet.

In the darkness, dozens of Bullet Screen messages flowed along the edge of his vision. The words were like fish in an aquarium, swimming past the corners of his eyes one by one.

Red rectangles marked each enemy's position in his field of vision.

Three in the corridor to the left, arranged in a triangle. Leading them was a gunman called Marco, with two Slavs behind him, one on each side. They kept about two meters apart at all times.

Three more were coming from the kitchen on the right. A man the other Slavs called Igor was in front, with the other two behind him on either side. The three of them formed a shifting triangle.

The two groups were about fifteen meters apart. They were advancing toward the storeroom at almost exactly the same speed, stopping every few steps to sweep their guns across the front and both sides, then moving on once they were sure it was safe.

Could he sneak past them?

The risk was high.

Some of the Bullet Screen viewers urged him to retreat, but... Lin An didn't want to give up this opportunity.

"Flap, flap..."

The sound of wings beating through the air made Lin An tense. He turned his head.

It was Director. The pitch-black crow cocked its head as it looked at him, its black-marbled eyes reflecting his image.

[Streamer, get out of there! There are three gunmen right in front of you. They'll see you as soon as they come around the corner...]

Right, they'll see me?

Looking at the message, Lin An narrowed his eyes. Then, it was as if a bomb went off in his heart.

Oh, right. They're about to see me, but I can already see them!

What do I have to be afraid of?

Don't I have guns?

No, I have five rifles, six pistols, and more than twenty pieces of explosive ordnance. That's more than enough for a small-scale firefight.

And I've got wallhacks on. What do I have to be afraid of?

The Slavs on the other side should be the ones who were afraid!

At the thought, Lin An's lips curled into a smile. He raised his hands. Director took flight, the Beretta pistol disappeared, and an AKM assault rifle appeared in his hands. He dropped into a low stance, gripped the rifle, and pulled the trigger, firing down the corridor.

A second after the gunfire erupted, a man stepped around the corridor corner at just the wrong moment.

Three bullets flew toward him. The Slav in the light body armor looked as if he'd run right into them. One shot missed, one struck him square in the chest, and one hit his neck.

He hadn't even managed to raise his shotgun before he fell backward, his back slamming against the corridor floor. The yellow emergency light shone on his face. His eyes were still open.

The other Ukrainian beside him immediately ducked back behind the corner. His red box stopped at the edge of the wall, motionless, as the Bullet Screen refreshed rapidly.

[One behind the corner, four meters away. Brick wall, about twenty centimeters thick. At this range, an AKM's 7.62×39mm rounds can penetrate it.]

Lin An immediately aimed his AKM at the wall where the box was, then squeezed the trigger. A burst of bullets hammered into the marked area. A cluster of holes appeared in the wall, and brick fragments flew everywhere.

The box jolted violently. Then the second Slav fell out from behind the corner, landing on his side on the corridor floor. He was still clutching his AKM, but he no longer had the strength to raise it.

The third man ran backward like a startled rat, not giving Lin An a chance to shoot.

All Lin An could do was change magazines as he headed toward the dining room.

He'd taken only a few steps when he saw three boxes rushing over from the kitchen on the right. There was only a door between them, and they were about fifteen meters away.

Lin An immediately swung his rifle toward the hollow steel door between the kitchen and the dining room and opened fire. Muzzle flashes leaped, and the rifle's handguard battered his left hand, but he kept it firmly under control.

A line of bullets struck the kitchen's rear door. The thick steel door was instantly punched through, leaving a row of holes. The steel plate buckled inward, and metal fragments and greasy soot burst into the kitchen. The door sagged slightly, its automatic closer creaking from the impact as bullets flew wildly through the kitchen.

Lin An's shots had punched a line of holes in the door, but none of the bullets hit the three men inside. The reason was simple: the pots, pans, and countertops made perfect cover.

As soon as the gunfire started, the three men moved quickly and skillfully behind anything that could stop bullets, avoiding the stray rounds.

"Cyka blyat!!!"

Igor, hunkered behind an oven, cursed furiously. Above his head, bullets clanged against the steel.

A flying shard of tile sliced across his cheek. Blood trickled down his chin and dripped onto the straps of his body armor.

"Igor, the door!" the Ukrainian on his left shouted.

Igor peeked around the side of the oven. The kitchen's rear door had been shot full of holes. Yellow emergency light from the corridor shone through them, making it look as if a crooked row of eyes had suddenly grown on the door.

That should be about enough. The enemy must have run out of bullets too. An AKM magazine only held thirty rounds.

Igor didn't shout. He simply waved his hand, and the two Slavs on either side gripped their weapons, ready to return fire the instant the shooting stopped.

[Kitchen counter, stainless steel, two millimeters thick. They're waiting for the streamer to change magazines.]

[Streamer, your magazine's almost empty.]

[Three in the kitchen, behind cover, no casualties.]

[One behind the oven on the left, two under the counter on the right.]

Lin An released the trigger. The AKM's bolt locked back... the magazine was empty.

He swiftly stowed the empty gun in the warehouse and took out a second AKM, already loaded with a full magazine.

The whole action took less than a second. The muzzle pointed toward the kitchen again, and he pulled the trigger. The barrage didn't let up.

Igor stood up from behind the counter, hoping to shoot during the magazine change. He had just lined up his sights on the steel door, now riddled with holes, when a stream of bullets came straight at him.

Igor jerked back behind the counter. The bullets chased the top of his head, striking the stainless-steel surface. They pierced the thin metal, ricocheted around inside the counter, then came out the other side, leaving another row of holes in the wall behind him.

Igor wasn't hit, but the gunman on his left crashed to the floor with a thud. He convulsed, unable to get back up, as blood spurted from his neck toward the ceiling. Two or three seconds later, he fell still.

Igor glanced at him and knew there was no saving him... A bullet had torn open his carotid artery. How could anyone survive that?

Saving the man wasn't the priority now. Igor had to save himself. The sound of bullets punching through metal overhead made him uneasy.

As a Slav, he knew very well that no one could change an AKM magazine in less than a second after emptying it—unless there was more than one enemy.

He didn't have time to think it through, because their side opened fire.

The gunman beside the freezer on Igor's right couldn't stand being pinned down. He raised his AKM over his head, exposing only the gun and one hand, and fired blindly toward the kitchen door, relying on memory.

The bullets passed through the steel door and struck the corridor wall. Plaster fragments flew everywhere, but none hit Lin An. He had already seen the enemy's movements through the boxes and had shifted to the side, putting the wall between himself and the gunfire.

By now, the steel door had taken two magazines' worth of fire from Lin An. Under the blind fire from inside the kitchen, it finally gave way. With a creak, it crashed down, exposing the kitchen.

At that moment, the Bullet Screen marked the position of the gun and hand with a red box.

[Beside the freezer. He's firing blind, with the gun raised over his head. His hand is exposed.]

Lin An quickly stowed the second AKM, now out of bullets, and took a Type 56 Assault Rifle from the warehouse. He raised it, braced the stock against his shoulder, and tossed an M67 grenade at an angle into the kitchen. It landed in the corner.

The grenade went off with a bang. Shrapnel flew everywhere, clattering against the kitchen's various metal objects.

The Slav gunman, still suppressing them with bursts of fire, was a veteran. Even as the grenade exploded, he didn't pull his hand back. He kept firing, sending bullets through the doorway.

Even so, the blast made his muzzle twitch, disrupting his firing rhythm.

Lin An seized the opportunity and darted out from the side. He aimed at the hand beside the freezer and pulled the trigger.

The Type 56 fired faster than the AKM. Amid the heavy thudding gunfire, bullets struck the freezer's metal casing and ricocheted, hitting the exposed hand and the receiver of the AKM he'd raised over his head.

The AKM flew from its owner's grasp, struck the wall, and fell to the floor.

The Slav gunman screamed and recoiled behind the freezer. Igor leaned out just then, trying to take over the suppressing fire. But every move he made was visible to the Bullet Screen.

Before Igor could even lean out, Lin An had already used the Type 56's recoil to swing the muzzle around and sweep it across the kitchen. One bullet struck Igor's shoulder with a thump, sending him tumbling backward.

The Type 56 fired quickly. With Lin An holding down the trigger, the magazine emptied in just three seconds.

Lin An stowed the Type 56 in the System Store. This time, he didn't switch guns. Instead, he took out an M67 grenade, while a Beretta appeared in his right hand. Without pulling the grenade's safety pin, he threw it into the kitchen.

The grenade arced through the air and landed precisely behind Igor.

The familiar sound of a grenade hitting the floor made Igor, still lying there, spring up without thinking. He leaped away from it, diving in the opposite direction.

At that moment, Lin An had just stepped over the kitchen's rear doorway and strode inside. He raised his pistol and fired at the box that had leaped into the air.

"Bang, bang, bang..."

The semi-automatic military pistol fired three times in Lin An's hand.

Igor grunted. His body slammed against the tiled floor and slid half a meter, knocking over a stainless-steel soup pot. He twitched twice, trying to get back up, but failed.

Lin An gave the enemy no chance. He moved his gun and fired three more shots at him, finishing him off.

After the gunshots, Igor lay still, and the kitchen fell silent.

Lin An was breathing a little hard. He stood over the body and looked around.

The yellow emergency light from the corridor shone through the steel door, now riddled with holes, casting a patchwork of broken light and shadow across the kitchen tiles.

The gunpowder smoke still hung in the air, cut by the light into layers of thin, gray-blue gauze.

Dozens of bullet holes pitted the stainless-steel counter, their edges curling inward as if an invisible hand had punched through from the other side.

The freezer's metal casing was covered in dents and holes left by ricochets. Its compressor was still humming, while refrigerant hissed from a damaged copper pipe, carrying a sharp, chemical sweetness.

Three men lay on the kitchen floor.

Igor was face down on the tiles, a dark pool spreading beneath him.

The stainless-steel soup pot lay on its side by his feet, still rocking slightly. His right hand clutched an AKM, his index finger hooked inside the trigger guard, as if he'd still been trying to raise his weapon in the final moment before he fell.

The Slav beside the freezer was curled up. Only his thumb and index finger remained on his right hand; the other three had been severed at the second knuckle. The jagged ends showed white splinters of bone.

His eyes were still open, fixed on his mangled hand. His expression was frozen in bewildered disbelief.

The man beneath the exhaust duct lay on his back. A cluster of bullet holes pocked his chest and abdomen from the APS burst. His body armor had stopped some of the rounds, but not all of them.

The Bullet Screen flowed quietly along the edge of Lin An's vision.

[Woohoo, all three in the kitchen wiped out. Blood everywhere. I love it.]

[There are still two in the corridor on the left. One died at the corner, shot in the neck. The other was killed through the wall.]

[Six people, five corpses. One got away. Not perfect.]

[Come on, one against six, and he accidentally killed five of them. What more do you want, streamer? Hurry up and loot the place. Grab all the weapons and ammo. I want to redeem them later.]

At that moment, Director flew in from the corridor. The sound of its wings beating through the air stood out in the quiet kitchen.

It landed on Lin An's shoulder, hooked its claws into his coat, and rolled its black-marbled eyes before lowering its head to peck at the feathers on its chest.

A smile tugged at Lin An's lips. He began looting, stripping the weapons, equipment, and ammunition from the three corpses in the kitchen. Then he left the kitchen and returned to the corridor on the left.

There were still two unlooted corpses in the corridor. They'd been hit by assault-rifle rounds, and despite their body armor, they were a bloody mess. Their internal organs had spilled through the holes torn open by the bullets.

The kitchen had been all right; the lighting wasn't good enough for the Bullet Screen viewers to see clearly. Now, beneath the corridor's emergency lights, they could finally make out the scene, and the comments immediately filled with complaints.

[The one shot in the neck is still bubbling blood. The one shot through the wall had his body armor pierced, with a hole in his chest and his insides spilling out. Is that a bit of intestine? That pink part?]

[Stop, I'm eating.]

[What are you eating at midnight? A late-night snack?]

[Instant noodles. I can't eat anymore.]

[Doesn't it gross you out, streamer?]

Lin An glanced at the Bullet Screen, shrugged, spread his hands, and even smiled.

"It's just a game. How can you throw up while playing a game?"

[???]

[The streamer's not right in the head.]

[Obviously. Would anyone in their right mind go looking for this kind of thrill alone?]

[Honestly, I'm doing fine... Streamer, why don't you bring the bodies out so I can have a go too? Watching this has me so fired up, I wish I had a gun so I could shoot back at them!]

Lin An burst out laughing. Director took off from his shoulder and landed on a tilted shelf nearby, cocking its head at him.

"Now that I've seen you guys, I'm relieved. I thought I was a lunatic, but it looks like I'm fine. You're all into this just like me."

[Enough talking. Hurry up and loot the place. There are still a few people left.]

Oh, right.

Lin An sped up and stripped the weapons and equipment from the remaining two corpses. As he picked up the radio on one of their shoulders, a man's voice came through the speaker.

"Who are you?"

The voice was low, his English marked by a trilled accent.

[Sergei. That's Sergei's voice.]

[That guy's on the third floor.]

[Streamer, don't answer. That old bastard's recording you. He might use your voice for voiceprint analysis.]

Lin An looked at the radio in his hand. The yellow emergency light fell across his face, and the eye sockets of his skull mask curved upward again.

Interesting. Why not answer?

So he pressed the talk button, deliberately lowered his voice, and pressed the back of his tongue against his lower jaw. Then he spoke in Russian, his words rough and dry, as though they'd been scraped with sandpaper.

"ЯКощей/ I'm Koschei."

Lin An released the talk button, but the other end of the radio fell silent.

The Bullet Screen exploded.

[Кощей? Koschei???]

[Who's Koschei? Anyone here able to explain?]

[An immortal from Slavic mythology. Koschei the Immortal. In the stories, he hid his soul in a needle, the needle in a duck, the duck in a rabbit, the rabbit in an iron chest, and the chest was buried far away with the death wizard.]

[Basically, Koschei is an unkillable lich.]

[Koschei the Immortal. The streamer just told the other guy in Russian that he's the immortal Koschei.]

On the other end of the radio, Sergei's face darkened. He turned to the person beside him and snarled, "Use the controller to bring the monster up from the basement. I want to see if that Koschei can beat a monster created by Traplex Bio."