Reborn: Evolution: A LitRPG Series (Warlock Chronicles Book 1), page 1
Warlock
Reborn: Evolution
Victor Alucard
Lit Orange
Copyright © 2019 Victor Alucard
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Introduction
The primordial waters, full of algae and unicellular organisms... Not quite how one would imagine the end of the world, is it?
The goal is to evolve and reach the land. Use your teeth, claws, stings, and whatever else you deem appropriate to take down your opponents and survive in the New World.
***
Dan used to work at the Psychic Agency, making a living by swindling naive clients. One day, however, this came to a sudden halt. A group of thugs paid him a visit and took him away. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the world had decided that it had had enough of us humans.
After that day, humanity was no more. Those who survived the Apocalypse have been forced to fight for their lives.
Dan, to his misfortune, didn’t become a gray-bearded wizard he had always hoped to be. Little did he know that he’d be forced to start his new life from the very beginning.
Perhaps he should have paid more attention in biology class.
Prologue
A cramped little room... Streaks of light piercing through the thick clouds of cigarette smoke... A woman sobbing...
Not exactly how I had imagined my future, but it could’ve been worse.
“How?” the woman sitting opposite from me cried.
“What?” I didn’t immediately catch the thread of the conversation. “The connection is unstable... Your husband is trying to break through.”
After a couple of minutes, I rolled my eyes back and coughed.
“He’s listening.” I spoke in a low voice.
“Peter? Are you here?!” the woman screamed and gripped my hand.
“He’s standing next to me. Speak.”
Goddamn it, lady, you’re scratching my hand with your nails!
“Peter, how are you?” she asked, wiping her tears with her handkerchief.
“He... Yes... He says... that everything’s fine... That he’s all right... That he’s up there...” I turned my head toward the ceiling. “There are roses... tulips... lilies... He’s growing them...”
“Strange... He never liked working in the garden. He never even went with me to the village to visit my mother.”
She’s getting suspicious...
“What did you say, how did he die?”
“Heart attack,” she said, puzzled.
“Ah... I see... A stressful lifestyle brought about his demise... He wishes this new life to be more tranquil... He likes the silence...”
The woman shook her head. “Ask him about Andrew,” she said, blushing. “It’s been a year since Peter died...”
The sudden ringing of my phone interrupted the session. It was Michael, the boss of my sector.
“If you’ll excuse me, this is a very important call,” I said and picked up, fiddling with the rosary with my free hand. “Yes?”
“Some guys in camo uniforms marched in and are looking for you,” Michael whispered.
“Got it.” Putting the phone away, I jumped to my feet and began packing up. “Peter approves of Andrew, and he wishes you love and happiness,” I said, surprising the woman. “Unfortunately, there has been an interference in the connection, so we have to end the session. Have a nice day.” I headed for the door and then stopped. “Leave the money at the reception desk. Be mindful of your karma and let go of Peter’s memory so that his spirit may finally be free.”
Walking into the long hallway I rushed toward the exit, putting on my jacket as I walked. Something fell out of my pocket. Cigarettes scattered all over the laminated floor, but I ignored it. I couldn’t linger.
I heard voices coming from behind me so I turned around and saw a group of thugs with batons chasing after me. I wondered who could’ve sent them to get me. Whose ancestors have I offended? The Russian mafia? The Yakuza? Italian mob?
I ran through the open door of the emergency exit and headed downstairs. I had barely made it down two flights of stairs when I ran into a huge, bald man.
“Tried to run away, did you?” he mocked.
Two guys in white shirts appeared behind me and grabbed me by the arms. They then dragged me outside and into a black jeep.
Good job, Dan... You got the mafia on your back.
“Let me go, I’m just a psychic! If you let me go, I’ll give you all free sessions! Or do you need money?”
“Shut up!” The bald guy jabbed the baton between my ribs. “We don’t care about those things!”
“At least tell me why you’ve kidnapped me.”
“Orders,” was all he said.
It seemed that I’d only be able to find out more from their boss. Unless they had been ordered to take me to the woods and kill me there. Or throw me into the river. Or bury me in a desert...
They put me in the back seat (I was glad that they didn’t throw me into the trunk like they did with most kidnap victims in movies), between two burly men. I couldn’t move a muscle without them noticing it.
We drove for quite some time. All of my questions fell on deaf ears. I pondered and pondered who I might’ve offended so badly that they’d hire someone to kidnap me, but I couldn’t think of anyone. All I did was tell people what they wanted to hear for a small fee, why was that so bad?
Finally, the jeep came to a halt.
I looked through the window — an abandoned factory overgrown with vegetation. I wasn’t sure if this made me feel better or worse.
“Why did we stop?”
“For a piss break! Why do you think we stopped?”
I sighed. We were in the middle of nowhere without a soul in sight. What did I think they’ve brought me here for? Sightseeing? They were going to kill me here and chuck my body into some ditch. And although there was a forest right behind the factory, I doubted that I’d be able to run away from them.
Unless there was some sort of a distraction.
“We’re here,” the bald guy said into his walkie-talkie.
The radio it was connected to buzzed.
“Understood,” a voice came through the white noise.
Baldie then drove the jeep to the main building and parked it there. I was pushed out of the car and dragged up the creaky stairs to the metal door of the dilapidated building.
The door squeaked open, revealing a dusty hallway with an old, moldy desk at the end of it. I looked for a way to escape, but found nothing.
We progressed slowly down the fairly wide hallway, passing many rooms and doors. Suddenly halting in front of one of them, Baldie gestured something to the rest of the group.
A few seconds later, the door opened and two people in white coats greeted us. And then I realized that the door was an elevator and not a room as I had originally thought.
My kidnappers exchanged nods and glances with the two. The duo looked at me and ushered me into the elevator. The older one, a middle-aged man, pressed a button and the doors slowly closed.
On our way down, I struggled to comprehend what was happening. Why had I been dragged all the way here? Who were these men? Were they scientists? Was this some sort of a secret lab? If so, what were they doing here? Was I going to be one of their lab rats?
“Can someone tell me what’s going on here?” I finally asked. “And stop holding me like that. I ain’t going anywhere.”
The middle-aged man in the coat nodded at his assistant. He immediately released me.
“Dan Ivanov, you’re in the government facility codenamed Department No. 26. You’ll soon attend a briefing.”
“Why did you have me kidnapped?” I muttered, rubbing my sore shoulders.
“I personally think the agents did a good job. You would’ve run away had we sent the police after you. We know that you’ve had trouble with the law. So, it was decided that the best course of action would be to stage a kidnapping to make things harder for observers from other countries that collect data on the ‘chosen ones,’ as we call them.”
“How sci-fi.” I grinned. “And what do you need me for? I must warn you, I don’t work for free. Not even for the leader or the country. All sessions must be paid for.”
“Sergey, are you sure you got the right guy? Are you sure that they chose him?” the other scientist asked.
How rude!
“I’m as baffled as you are, trust me. Out of all the scientists, soldiers, artists, philosophers, politicians and other outstanding individuals they chose... this guy. A... psychic. But yeah, I’m sure. I’ve double-checked it.”
“Please, show some respect, my great-grandfather was a warlock. The village almost killed him because of it.”
“Don’t worry, young man, there’s still a chance that they’re wrong.”
“What are you people on about?” I asked. But the door opened before Sergey could answer and I was handed over to another group of scientists, who turned out to be even less talkative.
“You can’t imagine how much money the state has invested in the construction of this place alone,” said one of the younger scientists.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked, seeing that he was the chatty sort.
“Your name appeared on a list we found in a... Well, in what you’d call a UFO. Of course, the higher-ups don’t tell me everything, but there have been rumors that this has something to do with some sort of a natural disaster...”
“You’re shitting me, right?” I chuckled. “You’ve been contacted by aliens? Have they written their message in Russian?”
“Of course not. About a year ago, a UFO fell into the Pacific Ocean. Unfortunately, we failed to retrieve it before our American, hm, ‘colleagues.’ But from what we know, this UFO contained data on Kynor, as we call the alien language, as well as a decoder that helped us decipher the message.”
“And how does this connect to me and a global disaster?”
“You’re one of the people that’ll get a second chance,” the man said in a low voice so that the rest of the group wouldn’t hear him.
The end of the world... Aliens... Second chance... What? In my twenty-three years, I’ve never heard a dumber story... This has to be a cover for something... God, what if they’re organ sellers? I don’t want bits of me to be sold on the black market! I have to escape! But how? There’s only one way out, but there’s no way in hell that I can get to it... They’ll kill me before I can even get to the elevator... I know I’ve been lying about my abilities, but this is too harsh of a punishment for something like that!
We soon found ourselves in front of a door which my new acquaintance knocked on politely, opened slightly, and peered inside.
“Come in,” he told me.
Swallowing, I walked into a rather spacious office, a good half of which was occupied by a desk littered with documents, papers, stationery, and several telephones. The antique kind. With wires and a round dial. Though I did read somewhere that it was difficult to trace them these days.
Behind the table sat a skinny old man, leaning back in a leather chair and smoking a Cuban cigar. I read the nameplate on the table — Afanasy Beli, head of Department No. 26.
“Ah, the last of the lucky ones,” Afanasy said, “or so they say.”
“Will someone finally tell me what’s going on here?” I asked, hoping that the fact that they had brought me to their boss meant that they wouldn’t harvest my organs after all.
“Take a seat,” Afanasy said, gesturing to the chair opposite his. “You’re on the list of people who have been chosen to repopulate the earth once it has been destroyed.” His tone was so calm and indifferent that I once again thought that this all had got to be some kind of a joke.
“From what I’ve heard, this information had been retrieved from a rather, shall we say, unreliable source,” I said and narrowed my eyes, observing Afanasy’s wrinkled, emotionless face.
“At first, we took it as a prank, set up by one of our competitors. But then we found out that other nations were searching for their ‘chosen ones’ as well. Since the beginning of this week, seismologists have observed unusual vibrations and movement of the tectonic plates. You probably heard about the devastating earthquake that hit Japan. Well, that’s only the beginning. Soon, the entire world will be turned into rubble.”
“Why me?” I asked, growing anxious as I realized that he wasn’t joking.
“That’s what we’d like to know, too. So far, the chosen ones have been scientists, politicians, military personnel, artists, and some religious figures... So it was a surprise to us as well when we learned that, no offense, a con artist such as yourself was on the list.”
“My great-grandfather was—”
“—a witch, warlock, whatever, we know. We’ve read your bio. Of course, I, as a scientist, shouldn’t be saying things like this, but... Your great-grandfather did possess some... abilities that science can’t explain. But you, unlike him, are an ordinary fraud. However, it’s not up to me to judge. If you’re on the list, it means that you have something to offer. Don’t look at me like that. Here, have a cigar.”
***
Smoke billowed slowly through the room. Afanasy knew a lot about cigars, and he also seemed to know that my biggest vice was smoking.
Inhaling the sweet nicotine, we talked in a more relaxed manner. It was clear that Afanasy wanted to sit and chat, having grown bored of the mundane daily grind. I had nothing against it, as he was one interesting man.
“And how do you feel about the fact that all of humanity will soon be wiped off the face of the earth?” I asked.
“I’m not worried. I’ll be watching your struggle from the Heavens, cigarette in my mouth and can of beer in my hand... They better have those up there, otherwise, I’d prefer to end up in Hell. It’s going to be a sight to behold! You’re the one who needs to be worried. The future of humankind rests on your shoulders.”
“That’s an interesting viewpoint, but what about your family and friends?”
“They’ll all be there with me, so I won’t be bored,” he answered with a smile.
But that smile disappeared the moment he looked at his watch.
“I swear to God, work will kill me before the apocalypse does. You go get some rest. You’ll need all the strength you can get, your job won’t be an easy one. Not a word about any of this to the rest of the employees, got it? We don’t need them panicking; there’s nothing they can do to save themselves, other than to end their own lives. Or, in the worst case, those of others.”
“I understand... But, I’m not sure where I need to go. Will I get a room, or...?”
Afanasy picked up one of the phones and said, “Take him to Hall No. 4.”
We exchanged our farewells and I left his smoky office. A soldier met me outside and I followed him. For several minutes we walked in silence, as we wandered through the maze of identical hallways and corridors. I’d occasionally try to start a conversation, but my companion’s answers were brief. All that I managed to find out was that the part of the facility we were in was the Research wing, focused on decoding the list and finding the people (the “chosen ones”) whose names were on it. I also found out that some of these individuals were in Department No. 27, located near Khanarovsk. In total, there were 150 “chosen ones.” The chances of being on the list were similar to one’s chances of winning the lottery.
Finally, we entered a spacious hall, in which there were several dozen people engaged in various activities from having lunch to playing chess. I noticed that no one was using a computer or a phone. Probably because the authorities didn’t want someone accidentally exposing this entire operation.
The soldier led me to the “leader” of the group, a gray-haired man with an impressive physique for someone of his age.
“Dan! I’ve heard a lot about you... Real legends, one might say. Some say that you’re a con artist, while some claim that you’re an honest to God magician!”
“An ordinary psychic,” I said.
“Also interesting!” The man patted me on the shoulder and introduced himself as Mikhail, the Comrade Major of the group. “Ladies and gents, I present to you the one hundred and fiftieth chosen one, the only occult practitioner in our team.”
Dozens of eyes turned in my direction. Some looked at me with interest, while others showed open hostility. Overall, most gazes seemed to be on the friendly side.
I followed Mikhail to a table of men playing poker, answering a myriad of questions on my way there, from was I a genuine psychic to who was the coolest ghost I’ve ever contacted. Unfortunately, all of my attempts to convince them that my grandfather’s gift had been passed on to me were unsuccessful, so I laughed with them and turned it all into a joke.
“Leave the man alone already. Christ!” Mikhail shouted and dragged me over to a table. Having finally sat down, I asked the waiter for some juice (drinking alcoholic beverages was forbidden) and reached for the deck.
***
Had I not been a little bit of a cheater and a liar, I never would’ve been able to survive in the business for as long as I had. So, within half an hour, I had emptied everyone’s pockets. We didn’t bet money, but pieces of toast. Still, I enjoyed the company of my new friends as well as their respect.
