I pushed the heavy oak door and entered the dimly lit room. Too bad the atmosphere wasn't really my style. Subdued light, small tables, decently dressed patrons. Calm, chill music. My guys and I avoided such places. Not only will they charge you exorbitantly for a measly can of beer, but you can't even have a proper fight—they call the cops immediately.
However, I wasn't planning to throw punches now. I needed to think about what to do next—a million doesn't just lay around on the road, but I had to find it somewhere. So I approached the bar counter, which displayed a rather large assortment of colorful cans. There was no familiar Budweiser in sight, and the prices remained a mystery.
Just as I focused my gaze on one of the bottles, a small table popped up before my eyes.
Beer. Light alcoholic beverage. 500 crowns.
Well, my modest savings should be enough for a couple of cans. Now I just need to choose something not so colorful...
As if hearing my thoughts, a man in a white shirt appeared from somewhere under the bar counter.
"Good evening. Can I help you with anything?" He looked at me in a friendly manner, but after a moment, he froze, just like that random guy from the street.
"Why are you staring at me like that?" I said indignantly. "Is something wrong?"
"No, no, everything's fine," the bartender said somewhat confusedly after a couple of seconds. "I was just thinking. What would you like to drink?"
"I'm not familiar with the local brew, so give me something popular, what every second person orders."
"Oh, no problem!"
The bartender skillfully took a can from under the counter and poured a thick yellowish liquid into a tall glass.
"Here you go. Piña colada smoothie, the hit of the season!"
I grimaced. Sounds like some kind of kiddie cocktail. So, how am I supposed to pay?
Just as I thought about money, the schizo spoke again.
Your balance — 1000 crowns. Would you like to withdraw cash?
Well, I would. Let's say, 500 of your crowns. How do I do that?
Fortunately, I didn't have to think long. As soon as I finished the thought, some kind of paper materialized in my hand. I didn't get a chance to look at it because it immediately disappeared from my hand and vanished into the folds of the bartender's clothes.
"Thank you," he said with a smile. "You can enjoy your drink."
Well, the payment went through successfully. I nodded and pulled up a high stool standing nearby. Let's see what they serve here.
I took the glass in my hand, took a big sip. What garbage! Indeed, some kind of fruit compote, can't feel any alcohol at all. The only plus I could find in this drink was the beautiful can. It featured a blonde in a revealing dress with fourth... or fifth... size buffers. Hard to tell right away. I even zoned out for a couple of minutes, enjoying the spicy drawing, but my enjoyment of the beautiful was again interrupted by the schizo. It knows how to intrude at the wrong time.
Conditions for obtaining skill met.
You have acquired a new skill — "Identification"!
Identification — level 1.
Description:
Allows you to learn open system information.
Passive
So, what does that mean? I looked at the beer on the bar counter again. The pop-up text didn't change a bit. Hmm... I shifted my gaze to the bartender.
Now this is more interesting! Above the man's head appeared a bright inscription.
Eugene (37)
And what are these numbers? Level? Age? I looked around and began examining the other patrons. They had increased in number, by the way, and two large companies occupied long tables in the corners of the room, while a third was just now approaching the counter. Young guys and girls, about twenty to twenty-five years old, all already quite merry. And strange inscriptions were above everyone's head.
Nana (21)
Kyle (26)
Simon (17)
Well, if a healthy bearded man didn't have the number seventeen above his head, I would immediately think it was age. But since he does, it's apparently not that. But then what?
Meanwhile, the drunk youth reached the bar counter, stopped a meter away from me, and began heatedly discussing their adventures.
Judging by the conversation, they were celebrating a successful hunt. My gaze was immediately drawn to a pretty brunette, modestly standing slightly apart from the others. She was eating a banana with awkward, somewhat shy movements.
At first, I thought she was burdened by such a loose company, but then I noticed her burning gaze. The brunette, taking bites of the fruit, was literally devouring Kyle with her eyes, who, as if perfectly aware of this, casually played with the muscles under his thin T-shirt.
Eh, too bad. Almost always the most beautiful chicks are taken by guys like that, overpumped meatheads, and hardly anyone looks at normal guys.
Meanwhile, the loud voices of the tipsy youth involuntarily made me listen to their conversation.
"Kyle, you're a monster! Already taking down two-headed bears by yourself," the bearded one exhaled with admiration.
"No kidding, I've raised my sniper strike to level seventy-four. Now no one can dodge it," Kyle kissed his huge fist for the audience. The paw was indeed enormous, like a gorilla's. "Next week, my father will take me hunting for three-headed ones."
Meanwhile, the brunette, judging by her predatory gaze, had decided on something. She took a last bite, threw the fruit peel right on the floor, and gracefully strode toward Kyle. She floated like a gazelle teasing a lion. A predatory gazelle.
The girl's hips swayed seductively from side to side. They were tightly hugged by a black mini-skirt, which only further emphasized her firm shape. I involuntarily swallowed. Beautiful creature! And she knows it. My fingers got sweaty from the desire to touch her.
The beauty approached Kyle, boldly grabbed his head, tilted it slightly to the side, and French kissed him in front of everyone. Long and drawn out.
Holy crap!
I even got hot from this sight. The guy got lucky to snag such a beauty. Everyone in the bar who saw this also fell silent. I wish I could be in Kyle's place.
Suddenly the guy's eyes opened, and he looked at me strangely.
The brunette meanwhile detached herself, having quenched her thirst, and with the words "I'll go powder my nose" departed. She passed somewhere behind me, leaving a trail of sweet fruity perfume with barely noticeable notes of female sweat. Pheromones. Which I immediately took the opportunity to inhale deeply.
"Hey, guys! Look!" Kyle's tipsy voice brought me out of my enjoyment. "Am I so drunk, or is this really a zero?!"
What zero? The beer? I checked the can. Doesn't seem like it, four and a half percent. I turned around. This mass of muscle was pointing right at me. What do I have to do with this?!
"Ha-ha, really a zero," the arrogant meathead took a couple of steps and ended up next to me. "What are you doing here, trash?! I don't even want to ask how you snuck in here. Get out quickly, or I'll show you..."
"Listen, hands off," I pushed his arm off my shoulder.
Like I'm going to let some drunk idiot touch me? Only cute girls are allowed that. I jumped off the stool onto the floor and stood in front of him, staring into his eyes. Heh! I can outdo any thug in a staring contest.
"Well, you're a bold one," Kyle smirked.
"Kyle, smash the non-human," came from somewhere behind his back.
I assessed the situation. Everyone in the hall was watching us in anticipation. People were hungry for bread and circuses. Only the bartender continued casually polishing a mug.
Well. You'll get your show.
I take a step forward. Closing the distance. I'm about to smash my forehead into his nose!
Kyle smirks. He's big. His fist is already flying toward me from the right.
No big deal. I'll be faster.
And then I feel myself stepping on something slippery. My foot slides. Damn it! What the... A banana peel? I miraculously regain my balance. The guy's paw flies near my cheek, barely missing me.
Ding! A notification popped up before my eyes.
Conditions for obtaining skill met.
You have acquired a new skill — "Dodging"!
Dodging — level 1.
Description:
Increases the chance to dodge a direct attack by 0.2%.
Passive
Shock froze in Kyle's wide-open eyes.
"Bitch, how did you dodge?" A vein on his temples twitched. "No one has ever dodged my 100% accurate sniper strike. You just got lucky."
He loosened his neck with a couple of movements, then immediately shot at me with his left.
A sharp blow! I barely had time to notice it, but it was too late to dodge. I reflexively jerked to the side to at least somehow mitigate the damage.
Somehow, the fist again flew by, this time past my other ear.
Skill Dodging activated. You successfully dodged the attack.
Come on! A skill with a 0.2% chance worked on the very first attack. Schizo, you're the best!
Kyle's eyes opened even wider. Shock greater than mine froze on his face. The spectators, who had just been chanting "throw out this trash," fell silent.
Silence hung in the bar. Even the bartender stopped polishing his glass. Only music played quietly.
I understand these guys. Missing once is a coincidence, twice is already a pattern. For a sniper to be known as someone who misses, that's a lifelong stigma.
Kyle's Adam's apple jerked from a swallowing motion. His pale face became covered with crimson spots.
"You scum!" he suddenly roared. "I'll now..."
I didn't wait to hear the rest from the boastful thug or wait for his next blow. With guys like this in our neighborhood, we deal simply.
A hook to the head, and... the arrogant meathead falls to the floor like a sack, I didn't even have to try hard. Surprised whispers immediately spread through the hall.
"Bastard, what do you think you're doing?" Simon, unhappy with such treatment of his friend, started to assert his rights, madly shaking his little beard. "You're really a complete zero, spitting on you would be nothing!"
What's with them and this "zero" nonsense?
Am I really that ugly? I finished the remains of the beer compote in several large gulps and noisily put it on the counter. The compote was of a disgusting sour-sweet taste, but I've already spent five hundred crowns, I'd be too stingy to just leave it.