Ilya received reports from the analytical department of the company after selecting from thousands of game examples of the most classic, where the game achieved the tasks that Perekrestok considered its goal.
The reports, even after a very careful selection, represented a considerable amount of information, and Cohen looked carefully at only some of them, read the rest diagonally. This time, he was hooked by the name of the city of Rubtsovsk, from which a young man agreed to take part in the game. In this small Siberian town, Cohen’s father was served after graduating from a military school.
Ilya read in the column “Note” below:
1) Record the game in 3D;
2) Artyom's diary (legally! With the permission of the owner, edited in the form of a third person statement).
Artem Teterin, 26 years old. He graduated from St. Petersburg University, Department of Programming. Works in the city of Rubtsovsk, Altai Territory, at the tractor factory. Programmer in the design department.
Artem was born in Barnaul, where he graduated from high school, in which his father and mother taught mathematics and literature. He grew up shy, modest guy. The parents' intelligence left an imprint on him of some excessiveness in the manifestation of a sense of tact. And it often became an obstacle for Artem to participate in a get-together, which was the center of communication in the school.
He was usually called the Theme, and if in some cases his children seemed restlessness, then it was based on the surname ironic - “black-tie”.
At university, he occupied about the same niche in the student hierarchy. The clever nice guy, but a little "not in a subject". If he was represented to his friends, they would certainly emphasize: "He is with us from the Urals." Subject corrected: "From the Altai." Representatives threw dismissively: "Yes, what's the difference?".
The girl, with whom he had a close relationship in his third year, once said to him: “You are a very good boy, but you lack something, pepper, stiffness. Nahami someone when you "obtereki" obzovut, went to ... give in the face, in the end! ".
Artyom was not some kind of weakling - he did gymnastics and even had a rank, reaching considerable success on the bars and on the crossbar. But aggression was disgusting to him. He did not beat anyone and was rude to anyone on the advice of his girlfriend, and they quietly parted
University Artem graduated with honors and received several serious job offers in St. Petersburg and Moscow. But he returned home. He wanted a quiet unhurried life among the familiar landscape, devoid of heat of the rapid capital race for the prizes: career, money, fame.
In Barnaul, he also did not stay. In Rubtsovsk, the Chinese bought the ruins of a plant in the USSR that produced a tracked tractor, which was once the leader in the USSR. For two years, they built an ultramodern enterprise that produced a wide-purpose mini tractor, wheeled tractors of the third category of the middle class and very powerful, heavy tracked vehicles of the fourth class. Teterin quickly settled into his department. His salary reached three thousand dollars by the end of the second year. The Chinese paid in currency.
Artyom, if asked if he was satisfied with his life, would answer that completely. He settled in the "garden-city" (as the local residents called the area of private low-rise buildings on the southern outskirts of the city) in a wooden house of an elderly mistress, Alevtina Sergeyevna Snegireva, good-natured bbw, talkative and caring woman. For the post, I took, as she said, in a godly way, and Artema created the comfort created by Alevtina perfectly. He did not have to worry about food, about any economic problems: in her house was comfortable and warm. He bought a Chinese car, a three-year two-door Chery, for mere pennies, and got to work in twenty minutes. But when twenty eight thousand dollars came to his account, Artyom began to think that it would be nice to buy his own home after all. In the city, in addition to the tractor plant, the Chinese have built two more enterprises for the production of agricultural equipment. Began to develop urban infrastructure. High-rise buildings grew like mushrooms, and one-room flat in the budget series was quite affordable for Teterin, and with a small loan it was possible to decide on a two-room apartment.
Everything went on as usual, until one day a wonderful creature broke into the quiet comfort of Artyomov's well-being.
“Lyudochka! Sunny, baby, beautiful! Ay, what have you become! Ai, all the guys in the pile will fall! Oh, let me kiss you! ”- such a cascade of enthusiastic lamentations rolled from the hallway of the Alevtinino household to the dining room, where the tenant Artem Teterin usually sat with his computer at the round dining table. The bedroom was cramped, and there was usually no one in the hall, and Artem was comfortable in the evenings at this round table to go about his business. TV Alevtina kept in her room, and they did not interfere with each other.
The theme, coming from work, changed into a homemade one: a beige flannel shirt with a zipper and soft cotton pants, so he was absolutely not ready to receive guests. But I did not have time to hide myself. Brown eyes under straight bangs of thick black hair, a black sweater, a tight-fitting slender camp, a short skirt-bell of iridescent golden silk and a pair of those legs in black stockings, from which, according to Alevtininin, were supposed to form a pile of unhappy men. The girl, freeing herself from the pillow embraces of her pussy relative, turned all her attention to an unfamiliar object in a house, apparently familiar to her. She looked at Artyom at close range, placing her palms on the back of the chair nearest to him and comfortably balancing her position with her knees resting on his seat.
She extended her hand to Artem, getting acquainted in this way, and he had to jump up from her chair to take a step towards her. He squeezed her warm soft palm and said, immediately cursing himself: "Theme." And immediately, having typed in the voice of the fortress, recovered: "Artem". While she said her own words: “Very nice, Lyudmila!”, He followed her lips - they moved, as if in slow motion, two charming lips created for a kiss. A few touching freckles calmed his heated imagination near a neat nose on the clear, clean skin of her face. It was necessary to sit down, returning to his chair, and he, backing away, felt with his hand a wooden back, sat down, cautiously trying on and cursing himself again, the Topic, "black-tie".
The girl, on the contrary, did not make any awkward movement. She quickly went around the table, looked into the screen of his computer, asked a few questions that he could not later recall. Subject answered at random and, catching her mocking glances, everything was trying to hide in his bedroom. It seemed to him that his face was burning and that everyone could see how it turned red. The girl said something, laughed, in common with Alevtina. He understood from the sounds reaching him, from a misty cloud, which was located only a meter and a half from him, that Alevtina was her aunt, and that Luda and her father came to Rubtsovsk in the service, that her father was either a military man, or a policeman, and that she, this girl, will look at her aunt on weekends. Suddenly, at some point, the one called Lyudmila disappeared from the space surrounding Artem. Only the fragrance of freshness, emanating from the miraculous creature, and the French spirits, the freshness that set off, remained.
- Son, you, an hour, not sick? - Alevtina got worried.
- I'm fine. The day was hard, tired. Probably go to sleep.
- What is so heavy? The day is short, Friday is today, you are at five o'clock at home!
Alevtina drilled the guest with the look of her penetrating eyes:
- Hey, boy, are you, an hour, not from a nephew my face gone? - she knowingly winked at him. - Similarly, Lyudka you in temechko sticking.
Artem jumped up:
- What did you really imagine, dear Alevtina Sergeevna ?!
But she continued:
- Ludke is only nineteen this year. Smart girl, and flourished, has become a real beauty! I told her, by the way, that in our garden-town with such legs, to roam without protection means to run into this ... our shkodniki will be dragged in an instant, and you don’t have time to utter! However, this time the driver brought her batkin, and her father was the national guard commander, high rank. Mother is gone, ran away, bitch, for a long time, so he Lyudochke and for mom, and dad, and does not marry in any way.
All this Alevtina laid out Temka in the short time in which he never sat down. So she herself sat him down, forced him to drink tea with shanezhka, she pojavnichala with him and talked about his relatives, which brought in Rubtsovsk from Novosibirsk:
“... Volodya, Luda’s father, a lieutenant colonel, came to the promotion, he was only forty knocked, you see, the servant would rise. Since childhood, I remember, I played everything in the war, he was local, he shook and hung in the garrisons — he was thrown to his homeland. And Luda entered the academy in Novosibirsk, she also wants to be a police officer, no, now she’s not going to be called a police officer, but a policewoman. No, no, - Alevtina waved her arms to herself, - somehow “politsayka” sounds ugly! She kept trying to pull Artyom into the conversation, frozen with a tea saucer in her hands. He finally smiled: "Police." He presented Luda in uniform, no, it’s better not to think about it, put on a bag like that, flash his eyes - that's all.
“Am I in love? - he fit on aleutinine down feather bed and tried to explain to himself that such a thing could happen to him in those few minutes of intercourse with an unfamiliar girl. - Not for me, Themes, such a creation! Any general or oligarch — anyone, but not me — will be able to come close to that. ”
One thing was clear to him: his peace came to an end, and he realized with his programming mind: if he himself is something so sharp, so something you can’t tear off, do not take, it will be very bad, it’s just impossible to live. He lay down on the bed with the laptop, somewhat reassured. He has a goal. This state of the task has always stabilized his mind, and Artem rushed into the endless waves of the Internet.
The Crossroads page stopped him with the face of a girl that flashed in the promo video of the game, which seemed to him like Lyudmila. However, now he will start all the time from a seemingly familiar bang, or bending of a female leg, or freckles on a thin face - all of a sudden it is she.
Artem returned to the top of the page of the “Crossroads” game. Carefully read the annotation and stopped by the cursor arrow on the red key that invited to enter this game. He clicked on "Enter" and went to the library.
After Subject filled out the questionnaire proposed by the blonde, the choice of the side appeared:
1) You commit a crime.
2) You are investigating a crime.
Artem entered the category of investigation. The program offered to choose a crime classification, and he clicked on the ominous KILL key. In the list of motivations of this type of crime in a long list under the heading "Kill" there was a long column of possible motives:
- a dangerous witness
- blood feud,
- hide another crime,
He was stopped by the line:
- kill the bitch.
He ran through the list, leaving the bottom edge of the page, and returned to this fascinating line "to kill the bitch."
After hesitating for a few more moments, he again pressed the Enter key.
The program asked to wait. Artyom was looking at the frozen screen, experiencing a strange feeling of excitement, even fear of a seemingly dangerous undertaking. It sounded somehow gloomy: “murder” ... He had never had to face such a thing. He is a programmer, he tried hundreds of game plots. This was encouraged at the university, and for some time Artem even had a quite pronounced dependence on all these “shooters”, “monopolies” and “strategies”. The latter fascinated him most. Strategies of military operations, management of units, whole armies ... But all this ended after he joined the team of his colleagues and faced a huge amount of work in designing structures for real technical products, and this turned out to be more interesting than any game.
Artem startled when a trill or drum beat sounded - he did not have time to understand these sounds - and then with a slight ring on the white page the inscription appeared: “The call is accepted”. Then a book appeared, and several pages turned over one by one.
A young man in a black suit looked at the topic with serious Chinese eyes.
Jen Chen, 24 years old, Hong Kong. E-mail address and the allowed status of entry into his communication network for a period of 30 days from the date of publication.
30 days, four weeks. It's a few weekends and evenings, and maybe even nights. The topic was blown off the bed by a sudden excitement. He returned to the hall, to the round table, lit a desk lamp and dived into the unknown.
The uneasy guy was Jen Chen. The topic worked until five in the morning and managed to run through all the available open information sources, which enabled him to get some idea of who this Chinese counterpart is. Jen Chen is the son of Fang Chen, the owner of eleven multi-storey hotels in Hong Kong, Guangzhou and Shanghai, a huge factory for the production of plastic and metal accessories. His empire covered many other areas of activity, being the holder of stakes in industrial, banking, medical and agricultural structures. His company has more than thirty thousand employees. He ranks last on the Forbes list with a fortune of ten billion dollars. Jen - his only son, and now such a guy, such a star with unlimited possibilities, wants to "kill the bitch."
All the next day, Artem worked in the office, thinking only about how to get to his laptop at the round table as soon as possible. The habitual movements of his fingers, fluttering over the keyboard, did not interfere with reflections on the night journey through the materials of the initiated investigation. He liked the word "investigation". Imagination, which may not have found a place in his life before, from somewhere struck his way out and blossomed with an unexpected beautiful flower. Already formed an unclear, but with each passing hour more and more clearly lined up in a logical chain of plan. Only one thing pierced the mind, sharp and hot, that was the brown eyes that looked out from under the bangs of dark hair. But gradually this feeling became habitual, it lurked in his soul with a sweet pain, and Theme shore was instinctively, not knowing how to dispose of this unfamiliar feeling.
So plan. Alevtina already fed him dinner and retired to her room.
The screen glowed in front of Artem virgin whiteness. In the upper part of it, he derived the word "PLAN" and then continued:
- a list of people around Jena - a close circle,
- characteristics of people in the middle circle,
- Jen's hobbies,
- women Jena,
- Jen's conflicts with people around him,
- unusual in the behavior of Jena,
- use all the tools proposed by the game.
By the end of the first week, Subject felt like a virtual, but almost a member of the billionaire family.
Jen lived in Hong Kong in the apartment of one of the high-rise buildings of the prestigious central district. Not far from him on the south coast in his mansion lived his mother, Ji Chen. My father had several residences, but he and his relatives considered the villa in Guangzhou as the main house. Father was divorced from Jena's mother. His new darling is a very beautiful girl named Kiang. Kiang was his secretary, smart, with an excellent education, becoming a wife, she continued to actively participate in the work of the company. Just the cliche of all the nouveau riche, in Russia, in China.
Artem recalled how his father talked about his service during the Soviet era in southern Kazakhstan. The local secretaries of the district committees, the directors of the state farms, which were essentially no different from the pre-revolutionary bais, kept several yurts with their wives surrounded by their houses. He, a young soldier, was surprised to hear from the locals such an explanation to these yurts: “See, rams graze? This is a flock of fellow director. Here a hundred sheep are added to the herd - and another yurt appears. Just like that. ” And in the version of the nouveau riche - it is always a young diva to replace the aged wife.
But after Subject carefully reviewed hundreds of photos on Kiang's instagram, his opinion about the relationship between this girl and her boss-husband changed. It seems that there was mutual love and tender. The lens is very objective. He is an impassive witness of the most intimate feelings caught by his glass eye in a fleeting smile, in the bending of the lips and the sweep of the eyelashes. This girl loved to take pictures and knew how to catch the moment, press the shutter button so that she could catch this intimate. Jena in her photographs almost never was, and in those rare pictures that Tema happened to find, she was never with him because she was taking pictures. Jen looked at the photographer, and in this look for her there was nothing good.
“Maybe she is a bitch? Somehow too simple, ”thought Artem.
“Jena's other women” is his mother, and then there was no doubt that he was very attached to her. The image of a pretty, still not old woman, modestly smiling from a large portrait in his office, was proof of that. , , , - . , , , . , , - . , . . , , , - – , . «», , , «», « » 1
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« “”» – «One Times Square» 3
-. – – .
– - –
2016 – 2017
1* « » .(. )
2* – Busycotypus canaliculatus, () , —
3* «One Times Square» – 25- , 42- -. .(. )