CRYPTO DEATHMATCH

The Air Europa plane lands at the Schiphol airport. I had never been to the Netherlands before and a feeling of anxiety is becoming more intense.

While descending from the aircraft, many thoughts get crammed in my mind. My luggage is minimal. A couple of changes of clothes, a cell phone and a postal box address in my mind.

Yes, I am a lonely man, now more than ever. I perform the migration process almost without realizing it. I do not want to leave the air terminal. Suddenly I think maybe it was a bad idea. That I should never have been involved in this matter, and this is probably the last trip of my life.

But here I am. A coffee gives me back the energy I need to face my new challenge.

I take a taxi cab to my destination. A 5 star hotel, not bad at all. Sympathetic last wish for a warrior in this city that I don’t know and whose language I ignore. Happily my English is acceptable enough to communicate with ease.

The first thing is to go to the postal box to receive a shipment on my name from an anonymous sender. The mission is simple. Pick up the package, take it to the hotel, and follow the instructions.

The streets of Amsterdam are beautiful. That mixture resulting from multiple influences. The crowd in which one hopes to get confused, the ancient walls that transpire history …

The package has only three items. A bracelet, a SIM for a cell phone and a rather strange flashlight. Is this all I got for thirty thousand Euros?

I must activate the SIM chip on my cell phone, and instantly it downloads a new application. Crypto Deathmatch. The cell phone gets reinitialized and starts to show a map of the city. A message tells me to start wearing the bracelet.

The bracelet in question is a suicide mechanism. Skillfully designed, it can shoot at high pressure, introducing into the body a lethal dose of a chemical cocktail that kills without the least pain, or so they say. Yes, these strange things can be done in a country where suicide and assistance to it are legal.

But the bracelet does not activate itself. The lethal shot is precipitated upon receiving a signal from the flashlight, which must be fired by another person. I can not operate my own bracelet. I have to shoot another one. Another one of us twenty contenders that are subscribed to this mortal game.

The thirty thousand Euros were my entrance fee. Sent through an undetectable cryptocoin, between twenty players a total of 600,000 is made, taking into account that the company organizing the match is charging 100000, we compete to the death for a pot of half a million Euros.

It is one of the distortions that accompany a society of single men. My little fortune earned in 12 years of work in South America was not enough for a decent living. But I found out that I can turn it into half a million, with which I can live quietly the rest of my days. The price? Survive, and eliminate the other players … not by killing them, of course, but by assisting them in their own suicide.

All 20, we have never met or seen each other, we are willing to die. Or leave this place with the big prize.

The cell phone map tells me a countdown to the beginning of the duel. 2 hours. Enough time to sleep a little.

While I gaze vaguely at the roof of the room, I remember my family, who know nothing of this duel to death. It’s impossible to resign now. I wear the wristband that will trigger its deadly charge if I try to remove or deactivate it, or if I somehow disobey the rules of the game.

My work as an engineer seems irrelevant now. I left everything behind, camouflaging my adventure as holidays in Europe, which is what, by the way, everyone want these days.

Little by little I fall asleep remembering my girlfriend, well, ex girlfriend. I dumped her a year ago, cowardice is the reason. I felt that I was not man enough for her. Man in the broad sense. Man with fortune, with a stable job, with a direction in life.

The sound of the application wakes me up. It asks me for confirmation by retina scanning. I bring the camera to my eyes and the beep tells me that everything just started.

The screen with the map shows several red dots in different parts of the city. They are the other players. They move, they are connected to the GPS and their locations are updated instantly by internet.

A button of the application gives me the photographs and data for each of them. Of different ages although most young people like me. Dreamers I suppose. How to recognize them if they disguise themselves? There is no way. That’s what this is all about, elimination no matter what.

Anyway, we only have 24 hours. At the end of that term, if there are still several contestants standing, the application will select the one with the most eliminations and assist in suicide all the others. Simple.

I watch the screen calmly and see that one of the players is near my hotel. Suddenly I feel an impulse of adrenaline. The red dot begins to move towards me

I consult his file. His name is Jan Skaarsgard. It must be dutch. Local, has the advantage of knowing the city and physically goes unnoticed. It would be enough if he had let his beard and mustache grow and will be unrecognizable to me.

I walk down the stairs to the lobby. Jan is 400 meters to the east. He relies too much on his ability to camouflage himself. Obviously his bracelet will be exposed, since it is a mandatory rule and the maximum range of 50 meters for shooting is controlled by a combination of GPS, bluetooth and infrared light, so there is no way to cheat the flashlight.

It can’t be turned off either, and has a maximum count of 99 shots.

Jan approaches too quickly, does not leave me time to react. Surely it comes in a vehicle, which will make him more difficult to identify.

With horror I see that another point is coming even faster from the south side. Would these two players work together?  When I reach the ground floor, I look to the east, the street has few people, and I can’t see any vehicle approaching at the speed of Jan, which has already passed close to me and I could not even see him. Now he is 40 meters to the west and the other contender 100 meters to the south.

A thousand thoughts invade me. Why can’t I spot hm? Does the software fail? Is there a virus?

“He’s riding the subway!” I guess correctly that he’s underground, and immediately return to the hotel lobby where I take cover in the  crowd, but my racial features will be enough so that Jan can identify me with ease. He is now 25 meters away, and invisible to me, in the crowd of caucasian people, while the other contender, who I did not even have time to identify, approaches a somewhat greater distance from the south. This other contestant must already be inside the hotel grounds.

The only thing that my mind has time to figure out is, paying attention to the direction where Jan must be, letting me fall pretending to faint.

As I fall, all eyes of the people in the lobby get focused on me, as may be obvious. Only a man begins to look around him. Of course it’s Jan. He thinks the other player shot me down and looks for him. As I touch the ground I point the flashlight and shot several times. Jan falls for the last time.

But I do not have time to lose. People approach me trying to help, I get up apologizing and thanking them, I make them understand that I’m fine.

I hurry up the stairs. On the first floor and consult the profile of this other player. Daniel Enríquez, complexion of latino and easy to identify. He is not very bright, I think, since he came to the hall completely uncovered and walks quickly towards the stairs. I can trick this one the way Jan did with me, placing me on a plane at different height. I jump from the terrace to the roof and I run through the upper part of the Hall, which has a skylight, I identify Daniel. He does not imagine that I am above him, he is desperately turning around in the crowd, calling attention and confused while the map of his cell phone can’t indicate him that I am above his eyes. I quickly aim from above the roof through the skylight. Three clean shots. The poor boy falls heavily.

I faint on my knees, breathing hard. I want to cry.

I return to my suite and check the map. There are only 13 now. I eliminated two, I see another player “assisted”, as it says on the screen, three more. And two others got rid of one each. The one who leads the account is French. His name is Fabrice Deville. I look at his face, He’s beautiful, almost perfect. He does not deserve to die. Is it possible that he and I will have the last fight?

I locate the next suicidal guy who is near my position. Stanislav Vandaryev, Russian. He is located two kilometers to the north.

I did well with the first two players because I got to know the hotel grounds and I was able to prepare a skirmish there, but Stanislav does not move. He may be waiting with the same tactic.

I go outside and take a bus to the north. The range of fifty meters of maximum shot protects me in a certain way, but forces me to approach. Apparently Stanislav is secured in another hotel that I already see at the distance of 80 meters. But how to get in? Even covered by the crowd, it would be enough for him to shoot at close range some 10 times and at least one will reach me eventually.

It intrigues me that Stanislav seems not to move at all. Something strange is happening. So I decide to approach the moment I see more people walking the path in that same direction. So I merge myself in the crowd and manage to get to the door and enter walking straight to the reception. It is a huge hotel. The detector tells me that Stanislav, motionless, is 40 meters inside. Then I approach the reception to ask about my “friend” Vandaryev.

The room number is indicated to me. It’s good to know, but I mistrust everything.

As I walk towards the residential area, I feel two men grab me from the back. They hold me tightly. I can not move. They speak Russian, and they lead me to a block of rooms.

In a moment I guess what it happens. Stanislav cheats. He has two friends with him to share the money. Maybe they have done it several times. Surely they are criminals. I try to think, because I only have a few seconds.

The game is not perfect, it can’t detect these anomalies. I feel my mind confused as we’re already in the corridor. One of those doors is Stanislav’s room. They hold my arm down so I can’t aim. That way I’ll be easy target.

When we get to the door, before they insert the key, I kick it several times shouting in English, “Open the door, it’s Interpol!”

A firearm shot from the inside, with a silencer, bursts through the door wounding one of my captors who falls to the floor. The other russian begins to scream to calm Stanislav. Taking advantage of the confusion, I free myself by hitting the one holding me and I run quickly towards the outside. I stand behind a wall and watch Stanislav leave the room and watching his cell phone to locate me. The two men move quickly towards my position. I run backwards so that makes them feel confident that I am running away when they consult the map of their cell phone. As soon as they turn the corner where I was, I shot several times. Stanislav falls while his partner pulls a fire gun out of his pocket. But he stops. He Guesses he has nothing to do, and he does not follow me anymore. Like me, he has to leave quickly before the ambulance arrives for the wounded Russian and the other dead.

I walk hurriedly towards the exit trying not to attract attention. I am agitated and hyperventilating. I try to calm down while consulting the application again. There are others eliminated. Fabrice is still ahead and there are only five left.

The application tells me happily that the other players are far away. I want to leave things like that, but I can not. I see Fabrice approaching another player and eliminating him with ease. I feel quite weak. I have not eaten anything all day and I’m tired.

I enter a cafe to replenish some strength while I calculate the situation. We are four now. And two players are close to each other. From there only one of them will come out alive.

I start thinking. If Fabrice leads, now it would be convenient for him to get away from the rest, because most likely no one has killed as many as him, so at the end of the 24-hour period, the machine will eliminate all but the one with the most assists. . Only if one player of the others eliminates the other two will reach the account of Fabrice. Maybe that’s why he holds his position.

I bet he’s expectating just like me, watch the duel between John Denton and Abdemalek Shalby. Both are too young just over 20 years old. Is there reason to end life by ambition, so early? Or is it an addiction to adrenaline?

I look at the map of the application. Those two contenders met. A few seconds pass. John “assists” Shalby. Two minutes later he starts moving towards my position.

Fabrice too. It seems that they have agreed implicitly. I calculate that they will arrive in ten minutes.

I’m not afraid anymore. I am a veteran. Suddenly, it feels the same to live or to die. I’m even curious to know how this will end.

I study the place. There are not many people, maybe if I entrench myself in the bathroom I will have more choice but if they both arrive at the same time, they will surround me.

John arrives from the north. Fabrice from the east. Already without many options I look out at the nearby park. It has enough trees and vegetation. It may be better to have several escape routes so I run into that open space looking for the best position. It is relatively isolated and practically empty. That’s not good, but on the other hand, as I said my facial features make me stand out. Maybe this empty scenario works in my favor. While I hide in some bushes, I see on the screen of the phone, Fabrice approaching too fast. He seems to run, while John is also at some shorter distance. I try to get away from Fabrice and I expose myself. I turn my head to look at the side where John approaches and I see him. He points at me. Shoots. The blinking lights of his flashlight paralyze me but I do not feel anything. I am still alive. Instantly I calculate that he is more than fifty meters away and continues to trigger. How many shots will he have left? I run away from him at his approaching speed while I try to calculate the distance. The flashes follow each other regularly until they stop. He no longer has bullets. I turn, I run towards him and I shoot. I see John fall sharply.

At that very moment, an arm grabs me by the neck from behind while a voice commands me not to move. It’s Fabrice.

He forces me to release the flashlight. He has defeated me. I correctly guessed that we would have the last fight, but I have already lost it. With my flashlight in his hand, and his’ pointing carefully at me, he turns around until we stand face to face.

He does not speak, I wait for his shot. A handsome man. He could be an actor or a model, why risk his life that has just begun? He vaguely smiles. A tense calm stretches for quite a while as he examines me. Then begins to talk calmly in perfect English. He tells me that I am a good man, and that he is terminally ill. He gives me back my flashlight while he puts his’ in his pocket. I understand he is a survivor of several games. He’s being fighting until he finds the correct man to die to. This is the ceremony of his suicide. A last taste. Elegant, so epic and yet, it will remain forever forgotten. My eyes fill with tears. We hug each other for the first and last time.

And I shot.

I look at my contender, my only friend, fall down still with his half smile. It does not give me any satisfaction. I feel terrible.

But I breathe a sigh of relief. As I leave, I quickly consult the Crypto Deathmatch. The heart sensor of the wristband quickly reports that I am the only fighter standing, and therefore the winner. The instructions are sent to me to dispose of the bracelet, which at that moment is released automatically, and I can free my wrist. I must clean it of fingerprints and traces of DNA from perspiration using alcohol and a napkin. The same with the flashlight and then throw them into a trash can.

I examine my crypto money account. The smart contract has transferred me in a few seconds, the equivalent of half a million Euros.

I do not need to go back to the hotel anymore. I mechanically confirm by phone my flight reservation. I can take the plane that same night. I want to leave as soon as possible. I do not have anything to do there anymore.

Sometimes I wonder if the police does not realize that we are doing these duels. But they could not do anything more than maybe question the participants because they would never find the organizing company. In any case, the assistance to suicide is legal and also suicide itself. And all Crypto Deathmatch is done within the framework of this activity. It’s interesting, undetectable. The wonder of intricate blockchains. I feel bad for those who did not succeed. But now I have become a man. Strange thing is that money is what matters the least. Now I come to understand that I did not need it. Now I am sure that as a matter of fact, only my will and my intelligence would be enough to make a good living, and a fortune.

As the plane takes off I trace my objectives for the future. There is so much to plan and yet almost nothing that I would not have achieved on my own. But I got to learn something. Some men need a life threatening situation to push their lives ahead. The smartest ones don’t.