Difficulty Levels

Different places of encounter exist on the Continent. Including ones that inspire fear. And very few dare to come close to it. Even fewer are those who decide to cross it. Not alone, of course—only with an experienced team or with a trading caravan. That’s the only way to have a chance of successfully reaching the goal.

But it’s a chance, not a guarantee. Because here a tank column can vanish in an instant. The risk is enormous.

But right now there will be neither a tank column nor a trading caravan. Not a team has been assembled, but a parody of one: experienced ones—one or two, and that’s it, and half of them are dark horses recruited “by advertisement.” Some participants are so worthless they belong in kindergarten. And there’s a separate word to say about the leader: there’s suspicion he is the god of winemaking himself, exiled to the Continent for swapping wine for beer. And now this dubious fellow, having lost his divine power, pours his sorrow out with foamy drink—an unbroken stream.

With such a rabble, even the luckiest person will quickly run out of luck. But the Cheater has no choice.