Game of Tag. Fantasy. Julia Syanova

of gamers. A couple of times he tried to play with Roma, but he did not like it: somehow, he was unconvincing, as it turned out.

      In an hour, all participants were invited to a festive dinner.

      This is a small cafe with glass walls, a lovely white-green interior.

      Sergey sat down at the table near the flower pillar. So at least you do not feel yourself on the stage and you can eat calmly.

      He had no time to meet anyone, except for Maga, also a representative of Russia. Then they have made a small talk, their rooms are nearby in the hotel.

      Now he could look at everyone. At the next table, the Chinese settled. Two young girls, two guys and one very fat aged woman. They did not communicate with anyone; except “Good afternoon, Sir”, “Thank you!” it seems that no one heard them.

      The same headphones that were distributed to listen to advertisements etc., turned out to be a very good online translator. Someone could speak with you in any language of the world, but the headphones translated everything. They said the same thing would happen in the game, just without headphones, but under the control of the II number one.

      There next sit Hindus, two funny chubby Hindus and a very small girl.

      “Hi! Can I sit with you?” Without waiting for an answer, a girl sat down at the table.

      “Hi. I’m Sergey.”

      “Oh, I know your name; you’re the twenty-first participant.”

      “Well, yes, exactly.”

      “My name is Yana. I represent Australia. However, my father and his family came from the USSR. So I’m Russian too.”

      “Nice! But I can not say that you are Russian, does not look like.”

      “And? So my mom is Australian, she even has an aboriginal ancestors. Have you chosen a character?”

      Roma for last forty minutes did nothing but binding about the fact that he should not tell nothing about the character or the strategy to anyone before the start of the game. Since all these lovely people are rivals to five percent of the shares of the largest and the most expensive company in the world, the mil for which Sergey can study himself, pay for the studies of his brother and live well for fifteen years.

      Sergey was not going to win anything like that, but he did not want to lay the cards on the table beforehand. And then a friend advised to become a knight of the brightest and strongest God, as it gave more bonuses and, accordingly, points on the characteristics, but he did not really like the plan. Sergey had his opinion, and he did not share it with anyone.

      He does not need to get used to pretend, because even Roma sees him as a yap. The yap, who for the year of study independently mastered the material of three years’ course, and could afford himself not to attend lectures, and immediately pass the tests and exams. At the same time, he managed to work, read new works of scientists, articles. He was able to do housework, prepare for the lessons with his younger brother and to drive grandfather to hospitals. And the fact that people considered him illiterate, silly and dullish, just removed from him the excess burden of responsibility: “a fool’s bolt is soon shot’.

      “Yana, you are nice and cute, hazel-eyed foreigner, but my character – is my character. Meet me in the game, and you’ll see.”

      “It’s not likely.”

      “What is not likely?”

      “We are the first in an unknown world. There are no maps even for the developers. We’ll be cartographers. We don’t know how far we’re going to be apart. Some say that we will be separated by a distance equal to that separating by our countries.”

      “Well, it’s just rumors.”

      “I’m going to be a witch. So if you hear about the coolest witch, know: It’s me”, – she smiled cutely.

      “Well, you’re going to be a witch. You’re so subfuscous and curly, just like a witch.”

      “You haven’t seen me fly on a broom. Ha ha. It’s a nice place to be left alone.”

      “Not counting another nineteen participants and waiters.”

      “I say that our representatives are somewhere, but not with us,” she sang, copying the melody of the old song. “We have two hours of rest. Maybe we’ll get to know the other guys.”