Chapter 1: Minecraft? Not it, but something similar

He arrived on time. As expected.

The moment the clock showed 6:00 PM, there was a knock at the door. Does he really have to do it like this? He could've come at 6:01 for the sake of decency; I think I heard somewhere that being a minute late is a rule of good manners.

"Come in," I said barely audibly. Yet the man behind the door heard me and entered.

Mr. Punctuality himself, huh? I thought as I examined the visitor.
A tall, fairly young, fair-haired guy. It was obvious this was a special day for him. A pressed suit, polished shoes… Of course, working for someone like me is a great honor for someone like him.

"Hello! Are you interpreter?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. Random people don't come to me.
"Yes, I am. Let's speak Russian. We need to discuss something else."

Hmm? I'd made it perfectly clear I wouldn't speak Russian.

"I do not understand. Please speak English," I continued the charade.
"Listen, I know perfectly well that you speak Russian."

He looked at me confidently and with a sense of superiority, as if I had come to him for a job. Who does he think he is?

"Did someone sell me out?" I asked him.

He must have found out about my knowledge of Russian from somewhere.

"No, I just figured it out. I know practically nothing about you… unlike you, I assume."

Yes, that is true. Before hiring someone to design the Anglo-Russian translator that would be implanted into people's heads, I had to learn everything about the best of the best.
Donald Vorontsov. Twenty-five years old, single, moved to the U.S. at eighteen, no ties to North Korea, spent a month in a psychiatric hospital — stress-related, apparently. Suitable voice. Fluency in English and Russian — one hundred percent.
And most importantly — he was recommended by Bowles. One of the top candidates.

"Yes, I've read up a little on your background," I admitted. "I need to know if you're the right fit for us or not."
"Alright, then before signing the contract, could you do me a favor?"

He handed me a crumpled and extremely old notebook. The first page was covered in barely legible scribbles.

"You own the publishing house 'Lancelot.' My friend wants to publish a book, but due to some minor issues…"
"Is that necessary? Send the manuscript to the main office. They'll read it and get back to you. Let's focus on the contract instead."

I hadn't known for a long time what exactly was going on in that publishing house. My guy was running everything there, and as long as the money kept flowing, I wasn't concerned.

"Mr. Adebayor assured me that you wouldn't refuse this favor. Once you read it, we'll sign the contract immediately."

Uh-oh. It's never a good idea to cross Adebayor. How does Vorontsov even know him? Is it Bowles doing?
I wanted to toss the notebook aside and send this idiot packing, but he was connected to Bowles and Adebayor, and both of them had significant leverage over me.

Fine…

I took the notebook.
I'll read some nonsense, finalize the deal with Vorontsov, and then find out how he's connected to Adebayor and Bowles. And whether I can use him to influence them. Not a great chance, but still.

"Reading takes a while. I'll need to evaluate the artistic quality, the concept, and the writing style," I said, showing off my knowledge in this field.
"That's fine, I'll wait," Donald replied and settled into a chair.

I shrugged and started reading.

Day 1: Unclear. That's how I would describe my arrival here. What the hell is going on? I don't do drugs, I don't drink alcohol, I don't sniff glue, so hallucinations shouldn't be happening... But I'm definitely in the "Minecraft" world. How do I know? Everything is cube-shaped, even the sheep I met on the meadow. I have almost nothing with me except the things I had when I fell asleep in chemistry class: a notebook and a pen, which I'm using to write this. I should've at least taken the textbook to chemistry. It would come in handy now… I'll keep a journal so I don't go crazy.

Evening: I decided this can't be real. Ending up in a video game defies all logic and science. If I died before coming here, it could be explained religiously, like the afterlife... I'll bury myself in the ground and wait for the hallucinations to fade.

Day 2: I heard strange noises all night from above. Monsters? The hallucinations haven't passed. I'm still sitting here. I don't want to go outside. I'm thirsty. Playing tic-tac-toe with myself.

Day 3: Slept all day. I'm screwed. These aren't hallucinations. They would have passed by now. Unless I'm in some coma. I hope I don't lose my memory and can tell everyone about it. Maybe this is how comas work: people end up in different games, and if they survive, they wake up. If they don't, they die. Then they lose their memories and can't tell anyone what happened. But I have a journal. And it was with me in the real world. So it should come back with me... Probably.
The thirst is unbearable.

In case I lose my memory: Anton, it's me, Anton, lol. Just so you know, you wrote this, your favorite number is 131, your favorite color is beige. You were accepted early into law school at Elon Musk University, and after school, that's where you'll go. You dream of starting your own drill business. This information should remind you that it's really you, Anton, writing this.

Day 4: I've decided to fight back. I've been playing Minecraft since first grade and I know everything about this game.
At least I have enough info about the locals. I'll organize some cows – I'll have beef and milk, then wait until the game kicks me out. That's it. I have to survive...

I went outside and drank from the stream. Good thing Minecraft wasn't made by Russians, or the stream would've been full of trash and factories dumping waste nearby.
Today, I chopped wood with my hands. No pain, but I managed to release some tension. My laughter was heard from far away; hope the creepers didn't hear it. Seriously, chopping wood with my hands!
It was soooo strange; in the original Minecraft, this process felt like second nature. But it is unnatural!
Then, a piece of wood was floating in the air. Good thing I never studied physics – that knowledge would be useless here.

Despite the absurdity of it all and the obvious mental toll, I managed to chop four pieces of wood. My laughter attracted a creeper. I ran from it for about fifteen minutes, buried myself somewhere else. I'll start crafting tomorrow.

Day 5: By the way, there are no bugs, worms, or other nasties here. That's a relief. Otherwise, living in the ground would be difficult...

I have a problem — I don't understand how to craft. Considering all actions in Minecraft require crafting, this is a critical issue.

Day 6: Still haven't figured out how to craft. I'm hungry and thirsty. Tomorrow I'll go to the stream. Hope the creeper is gone.

Day 7: How the hell do you craft?! I couldn't do it by hand; I tried saying things like "craft a workbench!" "open inventory!" and other similar commands. This is a broken mess!

Day 8: Killed a cow by throwing a rock at it. Finally, food. Ate a raw piece of meat. Didn't feel bad, hunger satisfied, decent. This wasn't in the original Minecraft. Jeb, I demand some new features!

Day 9: Hallelujah! I figured it out! How stupid. You have to put four pieces of wood in the right order on the ground, and a workbench just appears. Right in front of my eyes, a workbench made from wood! Amazing! Got more wood, made another workbench. The process of the workbench materializing out of nowhere is mesmerizing.

Day 11: Yesterday, I couldn't bury myself. Spent the whole night running through the forest, dodging arrows from skeleton archers. Bastards! I slept during the day. In the evening, I made a lot of things: a wooden sword, axe, pickaxe, and shovel. Didn't make a hoe — no seeds. I've already used the sword. Killed three sheep. Tomorrow, I'm going to look for ores. Life is improving.

Day 12: I figured it out. I'll just think of it as a journey. Like that guy from the Discovery Channel, the one who survives in all sorts of scary, uninhabited places.
Hope I won't have to drink my own pee... Crap! Pee! In these twelve days, I haven't gone to the bathroom once. Where does the food and water go?
Oh, well, you know what? Whatever.

Made a bed, stone tools, and a furnace. Eating raw meat is unpleasant, even though the terrible taste doesn't really register, it's just psychologically hard. I was happier about the bed than anything else. I missed it so much. Dug down for a while. First rule of Minecraft — don't dig straight down. So I dug a staircase. Counted the blocks — only fifteen. Not enough. Need to dig faster.

Day 13:Digging. Found coal. My eyes have gotten used to the darkness, but with torches, it's much more pleasant. I wasn't even surprised when the torch stuck to a block of stone without any support. I've gotten used to it. Physics, screw you!

Day 14:Found gold. Unbelievable! Too bad it's almost useless in Minecraft. I'll take it with me to the real world and sell it there. But I can't mine it yet. I need an iron pickaxe. I haven't found iron yet. No big deal. I'll remember where the gold is, and get it later.

Day 15:Found a cave. Not going in there for anything. I only have one life. Unlike in the original Minecraft, I'm not going to respawn here. Though who knows... I'm definitely not going to check.

I've run out of food, and I'm tired of walking to the stream. I need a bucket.

Day 16:I hate this fucking Minecraft, damn it! That skeleton bastard shot an arrow in my knee from a kilometer away. There's no blood, I pulled the arrow out, but it hurts like hell. Unbelievable. I've never felt this much pain in real life.
I'm never going outside again.

Day 17:I'M NOT GOING OUT!

Day 18:Went outside. I was thirsty as hell, I couldn't stand it anymore. Drank water and killed a cow. Still hurts to walk, but the pain is getting weaker with each hour.

Day 19:Found iron, by accident, when I broke a block near me. It was a meter away from my staircase, a meter, Carl!

Though now I need to measure in blocks, not meters. Iron didn't smelt in the furnace for some reason. Turns out, I ran out of coal. Damn!

Day 20:Spent the whole day digging. Found coal again... Why the hell am I even writing this down? My mental health is fine now. But who is going to read this anyway?