Aaaah!!!
I drop down, hitting a cold, hard floor.
Ouch!!!
The pain wasn't from a bullet or my damaged eyes. No. It was the cemented floor. It was dark, but the damn place—the scent—was so familiar, even the floor. I push myself up, look around, and head for the switch. When I turn it on, my mouth drops; I'm back in my room, the one I used back in the bodyguard training academy.
Confusion washes over me as I check my body. No sign of bullet wounds. Hell, I'm in my truck shorts and the black recruit T-shirt.
"What the hell is happening?" I scream. Just then, a screen appears.
User has successfully been transported in time. Checking status.
Loading…
[Health: 100/100]
[Heartbeat: Fast]
[Breathing: Normal]
[Blood Pressure: Normal]
What the hell is this? I hover my hand across it, but it just passes through.
I get up and walk around, but the screen remains in front of me, stuck like a shadow.
"What in the hell is this?"
"Hello, I'm here to offer you aid," a girly voice chimes in.
"Who are you?" I ask, out of breath.
"I'm your assistant. I have no name, but you can give me one that suits you."
What is happening? It was too much. I rush out into the bathroom. The air is still steamy. I approach the mirror, look at myself, and there are four tabs hovering on the screen.
"I see, this is like one of those game systems."
"Is this some kind of hallucination? Am I dead, forced to see my regrets? Are you the devil trying to punish me?"
"I'm many things, but sadly, not the devil. You are not dead; you've just been transported in time."
"What do you mean, transported in time?"
"The system used your Return Credits to take you back to the point you were thinking about."
"Return Credits? What is that?"
Just then, the screen flashes, and a description appears.
[Return Credits: 0/0]
Return Credits are rewards granted to the user, and when activated, will take the user back to a specific time for which they have saved data.
Damn! Just like a game.
"Hey, you said you're my aid, so what should I call you?"
"I have no name, but you can give me one that fits you."
"Oh, I see. Let's go with ELL for now, since it's a popular female name in games."
Synchronizing the name Ell to the system…
ELL is approved.
It goes back to the tabs.
I was starting to grasp the situation. I had gone back in time thanks to this game-like system and the Return Credits. I glance at the status tab. Should I press it, or what?
"Just think, and it will automatically open," Ell says.
Status.
The screen flashes and automatically switches to the status tab.
[User: Alexei Volkov]
[Profession: Bodyguard]
[Level: Novice]
[Nickname: None]
[Potential: Low]
[H.P: 50%]
[S.P: 50%]
[Strength: 80/1000]
[Agility: 80/1000]
[Endurance: 60/1000]
Shit! This is fucking messed up. It's really like a video game. Seeing all my stats in red means I'm truly an amateur. I look at the stats again and notice a tab below.
Requirements.....Complete Quests.
I could guess what that was about, but I needed to see what the other tabs held.
Combat Tab.
The screen automatically shifts to combat stats.
[User: Alexei Volkov]
[Accuracy: 25/100]
[Stealth: 25/100]
[Combat Intuition: 30/100]
[Weapon Mastery: Novice] (has a drop-down icon)
- [Pistol: 5/10]
- [Rifles: 3/10]
- [Grenade: 6/10]
- [Hand-to-Hand: 3/10]
Sigh! What the hell is with these stats? It's like I'm a total amateur. The only thing I'm decent at is grenades—guess that's because it just involves throwing the damn thing.
Curiosity now took over; I wanted to see what kind of bodyguard I was.
[Skill Tab].
[User: Alexei Volkov]
[0 Skill Points Available]
[Skill Locked???]
[Skill Locked???]
[Skill Locked???]
[Special Skills]
What!!
__________________________________________________________________
Requirements. Complete Quests
__________________________________________________________________
Shop Tab.
[Unlocked at the Advanced Stage]
Sigh!
I turn back, leaning on the mirror.
"What is the meaning of all this? Why was I the one…"
Just then there is a loud bang on my door.
Bang!!! Bang!!!Bang!!!
It grows harder every second. I rush immediately forgetting about the system.
"Lex!!!" the voice screamed, on opening it was Vincent Stein, he was also a novice. We started the training together. He is one year younger.
"We have to go, Marc is in trouble," he is out of breath, "Hurry!" he screams pulling me out without even my shoes.