Splinter - Point Zero

Part 3

The adrenaline that surged in my blood during the short but brutal clash with Rusty began to recede rapidly. In its place came a leaden fatigue. I squatted in the dirty alley, leaning my back against the slimy brick wall, and tried to calm the trembling in my hands.

My first fight in the new world. My first trophy.

I unclenched my fingers, smeared with soot and someone else's blood. On my narrow palm lay three dull copper coins and a scrap of coarse hemp rope. Riches, indeed. If that Denis, whose fragments of memories flashed in my head, saw this "loot," he would probably laugh. Or cry.

But for Splinter—which was apparently my name here—this was a matter of survival.

"Eva," I called out mentally, chewing on the tough apple skin. "Are you still here?"

«Where would I go, User,» the ironic female voice immediately responded in my head. «I am tied to your neural network. So if you decide to drown in the nearest cesspit, I'll have to enjoy the process with you. Although, I admit, your uppercut was not bad. For a specimen whose body mass index makes even anatomical skeletons cry out of pity.»

"Thanks for the kind words. What was that about attribute points? You said I leveled up?"

«You received the 'Pushback at the Bottom' achievement, unlocked the [Hand-to-Hand Combat] skill level one, and earned one free attribute point. To activate the interface, simply think of the word 'Status'.»

Status, I said mentally.

The air in front of me rippled slightly, and a translucent, faintly glowing table unfolded in my field of vision. It didn't block my view, but rather overlaid reality, like augmented reality glasses from my blurry past.

Location: Lower City, Leatherworkers' Quarter. Name: Unknown. Nickname: Splinter. Age: Physiologically 14 years old. Level: 0 (Exp: 15/100) Condition: Extreme exhaustion (-50% debuff to all physical stats), Avitaminosis, Dehydration.

Attributes (including debuffs):

· Strength: 2

· Agility: 4

· Endurance: 1

· Intelligence: 10

· Perception: 3 Free points: 1

I choked on the apple.

"Endurance one?! How is that even possible? Am I dying?"

«You're not dying, you're balancing on the edge,» EVA noted philosophically. «Endurance '1' means that if you sneeze too hard right now, your heart might stop. And Strength '2' means you are weaker than an average goose. Agility '4' allows you to run away from that goose, if the goose is lame. And only Intelligence '10' shines against this background of sorrowful wretchedness. It's a bonus from your past incarnation.»

"A goose again? Are you mocking me?"

«I operate with concepts you understand. I could compare it to a capybara, but you wouldn't grasp the scale of the tragedy. I advise distributing the earned point immediately. And, for the sake of all holy code, put it into Endurance. We need to raise the base health pool, otherwise you'll kick the bucket from the first gust of cold wind.»

Arguing with the logic of a system that sees right through my body was foolish. Besides, I felt myself barely holding on. My heart beat unevenly, there was a constant slight ringing in my ears, and my leg muscles trembled even at rest.

Put 1 point into Endurance, I commanded.

The table blinked. The number "1" changed to "2".

At that very second, a wave of unexpected warmth rolled through my body. It originated somewhere around my solar plexus and quickly spread through my veins, chasing away the icy chills. The ringing in my ears subsided, and my vision, previously slightly blurred, came into focus. I took a deep breath, surprised to note that my ribs no longer gave a dull ache with every movement of my chest.

It was like drinking a strong, sweet coffee after a sleepless night. I didn't become Superman, but at least I stopped feeling like a half-corpse.

"It works," I exhaled, getting to my feet. "It actually works."

«Of course. I am the Unified Computing Assistant, not a fairground charlatan. And now that you can move without risking crumbling into dust, I highly recommend leaving this alley. Your defeated opponent will wake up soon. Plus, the smell here offends even my digital receptors.»

I nodded, hid the three copper coins in the deepest pocket of my torn pants, and, trying not to make noise, walked toward the exit of the alley.

What opened up to my eyes around the corner completely destroyed any hopes that I was in some theme park or on a movie set.

It was a full-fledged, breathing, stinking city living its own cruel life. A world surprisingly similar to Earth around the eighteenth century.

The street was narrow, winding, and covered with a thick layer of impassable, squelching mud. Only a narrow strip in the center was paved, and even that was generously covered with horse manure and rotting vegetable scraps. Two- and three-story houses huddled together along the street. The first floors were built of rough stone darkened by soot, the upper ones of wood, with the second floors overhanging the first, almost touching roofs.

A fine, nasty drizzle continued to fall from the sky, turning the city dirt into perfect lubricant for the soles of my shoes.

The people around matched the architecture. No jeans, no puffer jackets. Women wrapped themselves in coarse woolen shawls, wearing long skirts torn at the hem and bonnets. Men were dressed in cloth jackets, worn culottes (short trousers to the knees), and coarse stockings. Many wore dented tricorn hats or shapeless felt caps on their heads.

There were no fat people here. All faces looked gray, exhausted, with deep shadows under the eyes. It was a world where food was earned through hard labor or blood.