LITRPG 2 (Patreon)

Brett pulled up his inventory, saw he had a sawed off shotgun and a Bowie knife. He equipped both. The shotgun appeared in a sling across his back, the Bowie knife at his waist. “Cool.” He pulled the knife and wovd a figure eight pattern in front of himself as they walked down the sidewalk. People in the crowd gasped and cowered or ran away.

“Stop it!” Jack squeaked, hating how much he sounded like a little girl.

“Scared?” Brett said.

“As if. This is supposed to be a stealth mission, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Nag, nag, nag.” Brett sheathed his knife. They arrived at the intersection where the coin laundry stood.  “Sentry on the roof,” Brett said, pointing toward a figure with a sniper rifle.

“One at the front door,” Jack added, pointing to a woman in a hoodie leaning against the wall right next to the glass door, cigarette dangling from her lips. They could both see the bulge of a weapon in the pocket of her hoodie. The front of the building consisted of a large window, dirty and cracked, with the words “24 Hour Laundry” painted across them in chipped, faded red, white and blue paint. They could see what looked like a couple of civilians doing laundry inside, but it was hard to see much more through the filthy window.

“Let’s recon,” Jack said. “Check around the back. See if there is a side or back entrance.”

“Sounds good.”

The sniper on the roof was standing right above the front door and never seemed to look any direction other than forward, so to avoid being seen they headed up the street a couple blocks, then cut over and approached the building from the rear. Jack noticed that just above male NPC they passed checked him out, and it made him feel kind of self-conscious and creeped out.  He didn’t want to say anything, though, because it almost felt weird to him that he was noticing being noticed.

Then, just as they started down the alley that ran behind the laundry, breaking free of the crowd, Brett asked, “So, how does it feel?”

“What?”

“Being ogled.”

“What?  I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, please. Like you didn’t notice all the guys staring at your tits?”

“You’re so full of it.” Jack felt himself blush. It just made him feel super weird to even think about it, let alone talk about it. He was definitely getting a full on dose of male attention, and it was--  he didn’t even know. Before he could finish his thought, Jack spat,“quiet.”

They were now at the corner of the laundromat, backside. Old, weathered brick. A rusted dumpster.  A green side door, and a set of steps down leading to a basement door in the back. “Basement?” Jack said.

“I think so.”

Jack started to head toward the basement stairs. Jack grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Wait!”

“What?”

“Camera.”

“Shit.”

The camera was partly hidden beneath the hood of a streetlamp, but once Brett pointed it out, Jack could plainly see it there-- like a lot of video games, the designers of Mindstrike had gone with an old school security camera design, complete with a glowing red light above the lens that would have been visible from 30 yards away at night..

“So, let’s see. I can’t get to the side door either without being spotted.”

“Front door is a no go.”

“Oh, well!” Jack said, brushing his long hair away from his face. “Guess we might as well give up! Time to log out!”  His skin was still crawling from the guys staring at him.

“Nah. You know these are always puzzles. I bet there is a sky light.  Let’s see.”  Jack looked at the building next to the laundromat, the one they were currently hiding next to, and sure enough he spotted a drain bolted to the wall. “Ah. That’s it. Climb the pipe, jump across, take out the sniper silently. Easy.”

“Have fun.”

“Me? You’re the stealth character.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Aw, she’s scared. That’s so cute.”

“Idiot. These-- my arms?  I couldn’t even pull myself up to look out the window? How am I supposed to climb anything?”

“You’re an assassin. You have to-- wait. Check your skills.”

Jack pulled up his skill menu, and sure enough, there it was-- Scaling. LVL1. “Yeah. I can probably do it.”

Going to the pipe, he activated Scaling and found himself easily climbing the pipe, instinctively finding hand and footholds. Reaching the rooftop-- flat, asphalt-- he saw the figure of the sniper at the front of the building over.  There were pipes coming out the roof of the laundromat, steam roiling into the sky. He decided to jump across the buildings behind the pipes, so if there was any noise, he would have sheltered from the sniper.  His armor class was only 3, and he had all of 8 hit points, so taking a bunch of bullets from a high velocity rifle was not a winning bet.

Bret, checking his own skills, found no Scaling, but he started carefully climbing the pipe. His character was strong enough, but he had to work slowly and carefully, finding the handholds and footholds himself. Switching to intercom so as not to alert the guard, he said, “wait for me.”

The message crackled through to Jack. “I got this,” he answered, checking his skills, finding Jumping, LVL 1. He figured it would be enough to make the leap to the next building. He also had a Stealth, LVL 1, with a 5 second limit and a 120 second re-charge. He didn’t want to have to linger on the roof once he jumped over, so he decided to save his Stealth, make the leap and hope he didn’t alert the Sniper. He made the leap.

Brett, halfway up the drain pipe, saw Jack flash across the sky. “Idiot!”

Jack skidded to a halt behind the steam pipes, his boots sending a rooster tail of gravel flying in front of him. He crouched, heart racing.  He didn’t have to glance to know he’d been heard. The sniper muttered, “hunh?”

Jack made himself smaller, hunching, his full, heavy breasts pressing into his thighs. The feeling threw him off, reminded him he was not just female in this world but sooooo female. He could hear the sniper’s footsteps approaching. Saw the man’s shadow moving carefully toward the steam pipes.

Jack fought off the urge to active stealth mode. He would only have 5 seconds. He held his breath. He could see the shadow of the sniper shifting, as he were trying to get a look around the pipes. Glancing back, from his vantage point, Jack caught a glimpse of Brett climbing the pipe. If the sniper saw him… He activated his intercom. In this, like most fully immersion games, he could “talk” just using his mind. “Wait..”

Too late. “Hey!” The sniper shouted, having spotted Brett.

Jack heard the bolt action as the sniper loaded a round into his rifle.

“Oh, shit!” Brett said, trying to hurry up the pipe, he missed a hand hold and his legs slipped out from under him, kicking in the air as he held on with one hand, a sitting duck.

Jack had no choice, and there was no point in Stealth now. He stood, pulled his pistol and charged from around the pipes, throwing his arm up and into the rifle-- just in time. The muzzle flashed and the lethal round popped off into the sky.

The man was at least a foot taller than Jack, and he swung the butt of his pistol up and into his jaw. The sniper stumbled back, and Jack charged into him, tackling him to the ground only realizing his mistake as the man wrapped his legs around Jack’s mid section, grabbed his tiny wrist with one hand, then rolled them both over, pinning Jack’s arm over his head and his body to the ground. Jack swung with his other fist, connecting with the sniper’s temple, but his skinny little arms had no strength and the man barely recoiled, then grinned down at Jack, amused. “You’re gonna pay for that.”

Using his free hand, he punched Jack hard in the belly.

Jack felt the impact. “Ooof.” He saw his hit points drop from 8 to 4. Shit.

Struggling, Jack tried to hit the man again, but he easily batted the weak little punch away.  Flailing wildly, Jack tried to free himself, but the man was too big, too strong. One more punch, Jack thought, and I’m done… All thoughts of hating the game and wanting to get out had fled. Jack hated losing at anything, and he didn’t want to listen to Brett giving him shit.

Brett, meanwhile, had regained his hold on the pipe and made his way to the roof. He saw Jack, pinned struggling. Without hesitation he ran and leapt.

The sniper grabbed a fistful of Jack’s hair and, letting go of his gun hand, raised his fist for a mighty haymaker. Jack tried to swing his gun up. He didn’t want to alert the people below-- the sniper’s rifle had been silenced-- but--

Just then Brett slammed into the sniper, knocking him off Jack, and finishing him with a knife slash across the throat. Jack struggled to his feet, breathing hard, breasts heaving, he wobbled, his head spinning.  Brett caught him just as he was about to collapse.  Strong arms wrapped around him, pulled him back to his feet, and he found himself pressed against Brett’s body, momentarily clinging to him as he regained his balance.

They froze like that for a second, listening. Years of gaming kicking in.  Nothing. No sound of alarm. No NPCs chattering. Jack became aware of Brett’s strong arm around his waist, the feeling of his soft chest pressed against Brett’s ribcage. He tried to squirm free, but Brett held him tight.

“You can let go now,” Jack said out loud in his tiny little voice.

“What? Oh,” Brett said, embarrassed to realize he’d been hugging Jack to his body. He yanked his arm from Jack’s waist and stepped away. “I was just.. You know. That wasn’t anything.”

The boys looked away from each other. “I know.”

“It was…”

“Just forget it,” Jack snapped. “Let’s finish this mission.”

Holstering his pistol, Jack crept toward the skylight, but he had to pause, still feeling woozy.

“You okay?”

“One punch took half my hit points,” Jack said, going into his inventory, using his one med kit, watching his hit points rise back to 8. The wooziness and ache from the punch in the gut vanished. “The biofeedback is tremendous,” he said, mostly to himself. “I really felt that. I can’t believe one punch almost killed me.”

“You need better armor. Your hit points will always be low as a stealth character.”

“Yeah. Remind me never to play one again.”

“You’re not built for direct combat,” Brett said, moving toward the skylight. “Me, on the other hand?” He flexed his bicep. In fact, he had lithe, feminine arms, but solid, like a girl who lifted some weights “I’m built to bust jaws.”

“What am I built for?”

Brett couldn’t help but give the shapely little female in front of him a once over, his eyes eventually landing on the swell of Jack’s breasts. “Poll dancing?”

“Idiot.” Jack would have been more satisfied with his comeback if he hadn’t been forced to toss his long black hair out of his face as he said it. “Let’s get back to the game.”

They crept up to the skylight. It was toward the back of the building, behind the laundry area. There was just one woman down there, watching TV, an automatic rifle across her legs.  Jack equipped his blow gun. “I’ll take her out.”

Brett carefully lifted the skylight. The rusty joints creaked, and they both froze, but the NPC didn’t react. With a sigh, Jack lifted the blowgun to his lips.  Catching the amused look in Brett’s eyes, he glared. “Don’t say it.”

Brett smirked. Jack had full, soft lips, and he couldn’t help but find it suggestive to see him slip that blow gun between those full lips, then his cheeks puff out as he blew…

The dart arced down, hitting the NPC right in the neck. She slapped at her neck like she’d been bitten by a mosquito and immediately slumped over.  There was a table just below the skylight. Brett dropped down. Jack hopped down next. Brett went over and grabbed the automatic rifle, checked the specs. It was a Level 2 item, slightly better than what he had, so he equipped it.

“Anything else?” Jack asked.

“Those boots are +5 armor class,” Brett said.

The NPC wore knee high boots-- with high heels.

“No, thanks.”

“They would more than double your armor class.”

Jack knew he needed the extra AC points, but the boots were-- sexy. Still. “It’s just a game, right?”

“That a girl.”

Jack removed the boots from the NPC and equipped them, feeling himself rise onto his toes. “At least they make me a little taller.” He took a couple steps. “My character seems to know how to walk in heels.”

Brett resisted the urge to make a comment. The heels had added lift to Brett’s plump rear end, making him even sexier. A narrow hallway at the back of the room led to a stairway leading down. “Stealth it up.”

Jack walked back to the stairs. Brett couldn’t help but notice his walk had changed with the heels, his hips swaying and his character’s arms now held out to the sides in a very feminine manner. The view was very nice, and Brett couldn’t help but enjoy the view. He felt his cheeks growing warm.

Jack crept down the stairs, sneakin down until he got a view of the basement. There were three guards down there, and the currier sat, tied to a chair, gagged. Although his character automatically moved fluidly in the boots, it still made him feel a little off having his heels raised like that, walking on his toes. Jack had never worn heels, and he once more couldn’t help but cringe at what his father would think if he saw him now.  One guard, a huge thug, stood near the bottom of the stairs, back turned. Another was over by the currier, and a third was off to the side, robotically counting money.

Jack signaled to Brett to go for the money counter, mouthing “on my signal.”

Brett, hanging back due to his lack of stealth skills, nodded.

Jack snuck up on the guard at the base of the stairs, getting closer and closer, until a sign flashed, “Take Down.”

Arming his blow gun and clenching it in his teeth, he activated Take Down. His character leapt into the air, locking her legs around the man’s waist as she locked her arms around his throat. At the same time, Jack fired a dart into the guard near the currier.

The third guard looked up, shocked, and grabbed a Luger from the table. Brett, who’d barreled down the stairs as soon as Jack attacked, charged across the room, hoping to take the guard out without gunfire. The barrel rose, flashed. Pop! Brett felt something slam into his shoulder, and then he dove over the table, crashing into the NPC, knocking her to the ground. Stars swam around the NPC’s head as she shook her head, stunned, and Brett used his knife to finish her.

The NPC Jack was choking, meanwhile, fell backward and Jack hopped clear as he crashed to the ground, his hair swirling around his face.

“What’s going on?” They heard someone yell from upstairs, and then the sound of feet running.

“Shit!” Jack said.

Brett flipped the table on its side and took cover behind it. “Get ready.”

Jack ran over and took up position next to Jack, arming his pistol.

A generic looking thug came running down the stairs with a sawed off shotgun, blasting away, fire and smoke pouring from the barrel.

Jack and Brett ducked, then popped back up. Pack. Pack. Pack. Brett let loose with the automatic rifle, and the thug spun and crashed to the floor, blood oozing from his body. Two more thugs followed, equally blundering down, firing, and getting cut down as Jack and Brett fired away. The air smelled of gunpowder, and a thin layer of smoke now hung in the air near the ceiling.

Their avatars reflected the intensity of the battle-- the boys found themselves breathing hard, their breasts heaving, their faces hot, hearts racing. "I think that's it," Brett said, looking down into Jack's pretty face. Their eyes met, and locked. Jack tilted his head back. His bangs trailed across his forehead and covered one of his eyes. 

"That was so--intense," he said, his voice slightly hoarse. 

Brett felt-- he wanted to kiss her so bad. Her pupils were so big, and their was a glassy eyed intensity that made him feel--- hot and thirsty. He reached out, put his hand on Jack's soft check, his eyes drifting down to those wet lips.. 

“Let’s loot,” Jack said, pulling away, terrified at what Brett had been about to do, terrified that he felt something.... clench within him, terrified because-- had he wanted that kiss?  

"Yeah. Loot," Brett said, heading to the other side of the basement, wanting to get as much distance as he could from HER.

In addition to the weapons, which the two scooped up, they found 240 credits, two med kits and body armor. “AC 30,” Jack said, admiring the gear. It looked like the kind of thing a SWAT team wore. He equipped, then switched to third person view, checking himself out. The armor actually hid his figure, giving him a more androgynous looking body.

“I should probably get that,” Brett said. “I’m the Brick.”

“I need it more.”

“I’m the bullet catcher.”

Jack knew Brett was right. “Dick.” He transferred the armor, watching as it appeared on Brett’s body. Brett had a very pretty face, Jack had to admit, that kind of female face that looked even hotter with short hair. Big eyes. A kissable mouth.

“I did find something almost as good for you,” Brett said, smirking.

“I don’t want to know, do I?”

Brett held up a scrap of pink fabric with the word “Bitch” stenciled across it.

“What the hell is that?”

“It’s another plus ten armor for you.”

“But what is it?”

“Um, a mini-skirt?”