Zikei abruptly changed the subject, and his voice became serious, lacking its former lightness. He rested his elbows on the table, interlocking his fingers, and slowly said:
—Today marks the end of three days. Since the moment the Coyotes started hunting us.
The words hung in the air, like a cold wind blowing through the room. Even Elk, usually carefree and loud, fell silent for a moment.
Aka-32 tensed, feeling the tension growing.
Zikei looked at me. His eyes flashed, and I knew he'd already made up his mind.
—We'll have to go to them ourselves, without running around or wearing masks. We'll have to surrender peacefully.
—Are you serious, surrender?
Aka-32 asked, not believing her ears.
—Yes, let them think we've retreated. Let them relax. We'll have a chance to understand what they're planning and how far they're willing to go.
I listened, my stomach churning. Surrender to the enemies who've been tracking us for three days? It sounded crazy. But there was no doubt in Zikei's voice. He spoke as if he had already calculated everything, even our defeat.
—It's dangerous if it's a trap...
—Then we'll be the first to close it. Sometimes, to defeat the hunters, you have to become the prey.
I was already reaching to stand up, my heart telling me it was best to slip away and think things over in solitude. I was drawn home out of the game, to a quiet place where no one asked about the little shining creature on my shoulder.
I knew the value of my secrets: The Unique Offer and everything related to it was not just a story quest, but a resource that was being hunted and killed for.
—I'm leaving, I'm not taking any risks. My... my business is not for public discussion.
But Zikei abruptly placed his hand on my shoulder and spoke in a way that silenced everyone in the corner. His voice was calm and confident, not a threat, but a firm assurance:
—Listen to me carefully. We're not going to 'give away' your secret. We're going to give them the appearance that you're revealing the essence of the Unique Offer, but in reality, it's going to be a setup. A deception. An option, a false fragment, an imitation, whatever. I have information about another Unique Offer, and if everything goes according to plan, you won't lose anything significant.
There was a tense silence in the room, and even Aka-32 fell silent, staring at the toad's face. Elk bit its lip, clearly not thrilled with the risk, but its trusting gaze indicated its willingness to follow Zikei.
Fritte on the shoulder twitched suspiciously, as if also listening and weighing the words.
Zikei suddenly smiled, not an idle smile, but one that carried the chill of ice and the glint of a blade. His green eyes flashed in the shadow of his hood, and at that moment, one could read a drawing and a calculation in them.
It was as if a map had unfolded somewhere behind his back, and he could already see every point, every step of his opponent.
I didn't know Zikei well enough to tell a light-hearted joke from a predatory confidence. The way he flicked that look might have meant: there was a plan, and it was already polished to a shine. But a worry began to form in my soul: I had never been able to lie without my heart aching with guilt.
To slip someone a switch, it wasn't a system bypass, it was a people-bypass, and it went against my own code of conduct.
—Are you sure this will work?
Zikei leaned back, resting his elbow on the table. His profile was sharp and chiseled in the lamplight. The ekai mask he wore in battle hung cold on his head, cold, impassive.
—I've spent months learning their routines.They're learning to read any outgoing signals. If we give them raw information, they'll digest it and start panicking. We need them to relax and trust us. The only way is to make them see something that doesn't exist.
Aka-32, resting her elbow on the table, stared at Zikei, then looked at me.
—So we have to pretend?
She asked, no longer daring to hide the adventurer's smile completely.
—Not pretend, but play the role so convincingly that the observer won't even think of lying. This is a theater where everyone plays their part to the end. We give them the "key" they want, and the real plot will be in our hands.
There was a pause in the room, and it was the moment when everyone clenched their teeth and decided whether they would walk the edge with them or turn to the safe side.
There was something dark in Zikei's gaze. It wasn't just a cold calculation or a warrior's habit of stealth, but an almost tangible shadow of malice. Beneath his calm facade, an old, biting pain burned, and its sparks flared every time he spoke about them, about the Coyote Guild.
"He wasn't always like this, was he?"
As we sat at the round table, the soft light of the lamp flickering with our breath, Zeke finally spoke, not in response, not as part of a plan, but simply because he seemed unable to hold it in any longer. His voice was quiet, almost even, but with each word, a weight seemed to grow, as if he were pulling these memories from a depth where they had rotted for years.
"Coyotes... I was once one of them.
Aka-32 raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything, just listened. Even the Elk was quiet.
—It was different back then. We had a leader... not just a guildmaster, but a friend. We started together, on the old servers, when the game was just launched. He dreamed of creating a clan where everyone felt free, without rules, without bureaucracy. But then... everything changed.
He ran his finger around the edge of the mug.
—At some point, he realized that you could squeeze all the gold, rare items, and reputation out of the game with the help of bugs and system loopholes. And then the blood. He started using new players as bait, promising them rewards and quests, only to send them to their deaths. When that stopped working, after the game was updated, he forced us to kill players for resources. Not enemies, not opponents, just random ones.
—But that's why they get banned.
Aka-32 said quietly.
—Yes, if it's proven. And he always cleaned up the traces. I tried to stop him... I told him it wasn't a game anymore. But he just laughed. He said that true freedom was the power to do whatever you wanted without consequences.
Zikei's eyes flashed in the dim light, not from the light but from the rage that had been pent up for years.
—The day I left the Coyotes, he made me look like a traitor. He planted evidence that I had leaked raid data to my competitors. The entire guild believed him. I was kicked out, hunted down, and everyone who tried to stand up for me disappeared from the game.
I saw his fingers tighten, a cold current running under his skin.
—Since then, I don't just live in this game. I'm looking for the moment to take everything back from them. Not just destroy their guild, make even their name disappear from history.
I felt a strange feeling stir inside me, a mix of pity, anxiety and… respect.
He didn't sound like the avenger of cheap stories. There was something old, tired in his voice, like a man who had carried a wound for too long and now didn't know if he could live without it.
—So that's why you want to trick them.
Zikey looked at me, his gaze became softer, but not warmer.
—No, Disava. I don't want to deceive them, I want them to believe that they have won. And then, to make them realize that they lost before the game even started, then they will show themselves to be real scum, especially the guild master of this guild, we will make sure that they are no longer allowed in this game.
Aka-32 exhaled, laughing nervously,
—You make revenge sound like a chess game.
Zikei gave her only a tired half-smile.
—Because I don't play battles anymore. I play consequences.