As usual, the new target was waiting for me at the opposite end of the city. I took a taxi and drove across the bay into another district. Before the bridge was built, that neighborhood was a total clusterfuck of deserted industrial zones, shipyards and cheap apartments. People were shot and robbed in the broad daylight, gang wars every other day, other nasty stuff. Owen grew up there, no wonder he is a borderline alcoholic. With the bridge, some kind of civilization came to these wildlands, but anyone still had to be very careful. The perfect place for some bloodthirsty creature to hunt lonely night travelers. I told Alice, we have some urgent things in the shop, which will probably take all night. Whenever I had to stay late, I worried about what she would think. It’s not like I could tell her about freelance monster chasing, so my behavior must have been suspicious as hell. At least, that murder didn’t turn into a series. The city became somewhat peaceful again. Unless you count tiger attack in the suburbs the other day. If there are no big accidents, you can’t put the blame on this lunatic with a hammer. I also called Owen and asked to cover for me, just in case. Big sis and partner didn’t know each other, but leaving such a big hole in my alibi was unwise. My colleague was a real friend and agreed to lie to anyone who asks, without asking any questions himself. The Stranded is located within the marked area. Neutralize the threat, and protect the Anchor. Difficulty: average. Reward: depending on the results. “This is bad.” The voice said. “Well, explain.” “The Stranded is bad news. I wonder if you’re ready.” “I already fought the player and defeated him with my incredible smarts. And back then, I was much weaker. You couldn’t think of anything, by the way. ” “Let's be clear about something, Arthur. I know a lot more about this stuff than you ever will, so if I say it’s fucking bad news you better believe it.” “Okay. Tell me.” “How to explain…? Imagine a drug addict. A junkie with a knife, the utter bottom of the barrel human scum. All he wants is to kill somebody. There is one certain person whom he is very eager to bonk, but in general, he does not care. Will lash out at anyone. You understand?” “Somewhat.” “Now, imagine the same imbecile but with superpowers. And despite his rotten brains, he's very creative with them. Plus, he's pretty strong. A weakling can escape from the Cradle only by accident. Most of the Stranded were smart enough to find gaps and go through them deliberately, which is not an easy feat.” “What kind of place is the Cradle anyway? Sounds like a complete nightmare full of monsters.” “Some worlds are worse than others. Some are a lot better than this one. That’s not the point.” “They go cray-cray once they get here, right?” “And how! Their sanity is starting to turn into mush the second they are outside of the system. A guy can be a heavenly saint back there, but once the connection is broken, that’s it. It takes a month at best. Maybe a bit longer if the Stranded can hold the thirst at bay by sheer force of will. But they’ll start hunting eventually, and then there is a failsafe protocol.” “Ok, got it. I should take this seriously. Maybe we can practice some more before starting?” Yeah, that’s not how it works. “You’ll also need to protect the Anchor.” “The Anchor?” “One way or another, two versions of the same person may exist in the same place. Not going to explain how that happens, it’s irrelevant right now.” “You always leave the most interesting bits out.” “Do your job, and you’ll know everything soon enough. In short, the Stranded abhor when there’s a nice, non-insane version of them. The freaks might miss their old mortal life if they're from here. Besides that, Anchor’s existence causes them actual physical pain. Something they already forgot living in the Cradle.” “Ok. There’s superpowered murder hobo with a red-hot poker up his ass, which he can remove only by killing his body double.” I concluded. “If you want to put it this way. Also, the Anchor has no idea they being hunted by such a ghoul. Which will become a lot stronger once the mortal is dead. Or it will mutate into something very arrogant and unreasonable. You shouldn’t mess with those, ever.” Shit. This guy lives his usual boring life, he goes to work, starts relationships. Eats dumplings, while somewhere in the slums his evil twin sits, waiting to bite his head off. All because there’s another bizarre reality which works as a videogame, but actually isn’t. Weird. And not even a bit fair. Ten minutes later, I was standing in the courtyard of the house in question. The Anchor lived on the fourth floor. A light was on in the window, as that guy, unaware of the danger, was having a quiet midnight snack. “What now?” I asked. All the options seemed rather stupid and implausible. I couldn’t tell him (technically, I could. But who would have believed me?), And I couldn’t think of any other reliable reason why I had to stay in his apartment. “Wait here. We'll know if the Stranded comes from the yard. Try to grab his attention and finish him off fast, without bothering the potential victim.” “So-so plan.” “If you have any other brilliant ideas, I’m listening.” … Lately, I've started to notice a strange thing. Quite a strong statement, considering how my life has changed. So, minor everyday weirdness has not gone anywhere, even if it's overshadowed. The moon. Why the hell it’s always up there now? In the Midwest, it’s not that obvious, but in Eastward, if the sky is not overcast, you can look at the moon 24/7. I think something has changed in the atmosphere over the past twenty years. Why was I thinking about the moon while a deadly foe lurked around? Precisely because he didn’t come to a scene of his crime. I was sitting on a bench in the yard for two and a half hours, and nothing happened. Even the locals hanging around the bar dispersed. "Are you sure he's coming at all?" “If the system considered it necessary to notify you,” said the Fool. “He was close enough to the Anchor. Within the three miles, at least.” “Three miles? Seriously? Maybe he was just passing by, going on his monster stroll or something. And here I am, freezing my butt on this bench.” “Arthur, I don’t think you are stupid. Unless I do, sometimes. The Stranded is like a wild beast. Once it feels the pain, it reacts. For them, walking past the Anchor is like seeing an oasis in the desert and saying “Nah, another time!”. “Then why is it not trying to swim in this very oasis right now?” “Hell, if I know. Perhaps, it still has enough brains not to attack the guy in the apartment. It’s waiting for the victim to go out in the morning, or wherever. Or it has a perfect ability for that.” This is a very concerning thought. I turned around. Another high-rise tower stood right opposite this building. And behind it, a large construction site. Another pseudo-skyscraper, a future business center. “And if it doesn't have to come close? Let's say, our Stranded was a ranged fighter. Or even a magician. In the worst case, it has a sniper rifle or something. What stops it from climbing on the same construction site and then get the Anchor in the crosshairs?” “That’s an option. Hopefully, it will still be close enough for your built-in radar to spot it. Arthur, stop saving money. Buy yourself some normal apps!" “But I want a cool Seal!” Good apps are expensive. I don’t want to throw away four quest rewards to buy some advanced scanner. “What do you think? Shall we visit the tower over here and check my theory?” “And if he comes while we’re away?” my inner voice grumbled. “And if he is already up there aiming, while we are stuck under the window?” “Touche.” Of course, the construction site was probably guarded. But I was young, impetuous, and excellent at assembling furniture. Although, the last one didn’t come in handy. For the record, I do not in any way condone or advocate jumping over the fence into the guarded area. I crawled over a bent sheet of metal, then climbed the stairs to the twelfth floor. Walking through the future offices, I found a place for an attack. The view from here was ... well, not perfect. Not only he had to climb almost to the top to see a certain window, but it was also a bit too far. He had to be some kind of eagle man, or carry a rifle. How likely is it that a half-insane creature wields such a weapon? To be on the safe side, I still walked up to the fourteenth floor, without running into any kind of security. “So, where is your elven sniper?” The Fool was mocking me. “You said it was possible, right?” “Well, yes, but ... damn it! We're wasting our time here. If our client could really shoot his double from such a distance, he would have done it even before you arrived” Reasonable. “You know, sometimes being paranoid pays off.” I escaped out through the hole between the two rickety concrete slabs and pretended that I had never been there in the first place. Before I had time to turn around 360 degrees and head back into the yard, a gunshot rumbled in the silence. Not very close, but not very far either. I stood behind a tree, just in case. “What a twist!” I said. Someone fired again. “Mortal affairs!” my inner voice hissed. ”Let’s get out of here.” “I need to see what's going on.” “Shut up, Arthur. It can't be the Stranded. Which means that you do not need to pry your nose into this matter." “You shut up. Maybe something bad is happening. What if I can help? I’ll only take a peek and then we’ll get back to hunting.” The Fool said nothing unless you count quiet swearing.