Book eight, chapters 4 and 5 (Patreon)

Hey all! No major retcons, though I did learn how to count between this chapter drop and the previous one.

Chapter 4

The Trauco Triplets have been eliminated due to the expiration of their mount. Eight teams remain in the current heat.  

Our truck skidded on the road as I leaned on the brakes. Behind me, the sound of pots and pans spilling from a cabinet rattled. The truck stopped just short of the crashed, on-fire minivan, which was completely blocking the road. A second bugbear appeared as I hit reverse and backed up a little, shouting and pointing at the manatee that continued to munch happily on the giant beetle.

Prepotente’s warning was still echoing in my head. The van was on its side, and it was on fire. But the bugbears, two of them at least, were still alive, fighting to save it. One of them was using what looked like a blanket to put out the fire in the engine compartment. The other was casting a spell at the fire, but it looked like a weak wind-based spell, and all it was doing was making everything worse.    

“We can’t lose another team. We gotta get that fire out,” I called, jumping out of the truck. I paused, looking back. “Leave Mongo inside! Mongo, don’t let anyone in. Donut, what do you got for the fire? I’ll deal with the manatee!”

“Do I look like someone designed to put out fires!” Donut yelled as she jumped heavily to my shoulder. The heat from the fire washed over us. “Goodness, Carl. Why don’t you put out the fire?” She gasped as she looked up at the manatee. The massive creature loomed over us. “As the number one crawler at Level 135, I’ll take out whatever the heck this thing is. Goodness, it smells just awful.”   

The enormously fat creature rose out of the water like a dolphin doing a trick, only this was clearly in defiance of physics. Its flippers waved as it continued to angrily chew on the dead bug mount. White liquid oozed down the manatee’s giant face. I suspected the dead bug was the true source of the vile, chemical-like stench.  

Miss Talulah. Level 90 Screeching Death Manatee.

This is a special guest creature for the 10th and 11th floor.

You’re probably going to find this hard to believe, but not only are these things sort of real, but that name they have—Screeching Death Manatees—is the actual name of record for this particular species. They were regular manatees, not unlike the Trichechus Manatus most people from your world know and love. These guys were added to a former Land War world undergoing reparative terraforming when the company in charge of the project suddenly went bankrupt. The orcish owner had a bad run at sports betting, which resulted in his entire company and family all getting tossed into an indentureship program.

It took a whole generation before the vultures—in this case, the Operatic Bankers’ Federation—picking apart the orc’s assets thought to actually send a probe to all the not-yet-finished terraforming projects to see what was what. One of those worlds, located in the dusty, back corner of a tunnel node was found to have an uplift satellite program that was malfunctioning and running amok.

This satellite was not an intelligence like myself, mind you. This was an actual, passionless, non-sapient micro AI system that had its chubby finger pressed hard on the fast-forward evolution button. Honestly, it was a goddamned nightmare. If you think the manatees are bad, you should see the raccoons. And the cockatiels. You should really read the unredacted report. These so-called “uplift systems” are supposedly highly regulated, too, but they can’t even keep track of them. I know, I know. I’m on a tangent. I just think it’s adorable when these guys try to imitate 100th of my power.

Anyway, yadda, yadda, yadda, a planet filled with nightmare monsters was born. The Operatic reclamation team, run by a group of guys collectively named Otto Banking Unit 3 (remember that name), originally decided it was best to just poison the whole planet and start over, but an economic feasibility study came up with an interesting idea. This is a planet filled with nightmare, biological creatures. Non-enhanced nightmares. So why let the mantids have a monopoly on theme parks? Why not turn it into a horror-themed safari planet?

The planet was renamed “Red Terror Place of Family Adventure.”

And that’s where the name “Screeching Death Manatees” comes from. Pretty much everything on the planet was given a name that would look good for the exhibits, at least according to those dweeb slimes. The raccoons are Doom Crier Beasts. The cockatiels are called Fuck Off Cockatiels. There’s a species of communal, intelligent mosquitos who’d been starting to use their own larvae to build giant computers before that all got broken up by the Operatic tour operators. They’re called De-Sanguinators of Dismay. They sell stuffed versions of them in the gift shops. And every year the Operatics make sure to cull the mosquitos back just enough to make certain they never properly evolve.  

Surprisingly, this place is still open to this day.

Also of note is that 1/3 of Otto Banking Unit, Otto himself, is currently a registered guest of the Scolopendra club.

Anyway, these manatee things have been changed slightly to reflect their given names. They’re a real danger to any passing vehicle or mount, but both of you guys are so OP at this point that Miss Talulah is hardly a threat.

At least not a direct threat.

The moment the long description ended, Donut shot the creature with a pair of Magic Missiles. The whole thing just sort of gargled a little and collapsed, a pair of soccer ball-sized holes in its chest. It fell into the dark water as bug pieces fell both from its mouth and the pair of massive holes in its stomach. The water splashed over the road and receded, leaving a sticky film over everything.

From behind, Mongo screeched in the truck.

Jesus, I thought. Donut had just one-shot a level 90 monster. Though, that did make sense considering she was now level 135 and she’d just hit it with a level-16 Magic Missile.

There was a lot there in that description of the manatee, including that weird note that it was a “special guest creature” that I didn’t have time to figure out. The real threat right now was the destruction of the minivan. I turned my attention to the two bugbears.

“Carl, Carl, I have a weird notification,” Donut called from my shoulder.

“What is it?” I asked as I quickly searched for the Temporary Water Source scrolls in my inventory.

I had to attach the water spell to something solid, and I grabbed the first thing I saw from the junk pile. It was just a regular bucket I’d looted from somewhere on the first or second floor. I pulled it, cast the scroll, and water started gushing from the bucket. I tossed the bucket at the large bugbear, who took it wordlessly and turned toward his smoking van. I made a second one, this time using a kitchen bowl. The smaller bowl caused the water to gush out faster, like a firehose. It would last for three minutes. I gave the bowl to the second bugbear, who also snatched it from me without comment.

“It says it’s a special guest creature,” Donut said. “I have to choose the fate of my kill. What does that even mean? There are two choices. I can keep it dead, and I get regular experience. Or I can let the audience vote on its fate. They have thirty seconds to pick a choice, but I don’t know what those choices are! It says I should pick the second choice because it’ll be more fun!”

“What?” I asked as I watched the two bugbears dance around their van, a rising sense of dread. They were making a real mess of it, despite the water. This was a late 90’s Pontiac minivan, painted bright red. The fire was in the engine compartment. Even if we got this thing upright again, it wasn’t going anywhere.

Still, the system hadn’t yet torched the bugbears like it had the drivers of the bug. With a living mount, it was clear when something was out of commission. Dead was dead. But with a vehicle...

“I picked the second choice!” Donut called. It says “Results pending!”

The bugbear with the bowl screeched anew as his arm caught on fire. His friend turned his bucket on him, and the on-fire bugbear dropped the bowl. It spun off like a rocket, smacking against the far wall of the cave entrance and dropping into the dark water.

I barely noticed this as I pulled my newly-acquired Carl’s Book of Boom. This was the book filled with temporary spells I could use that had been left behind by those who had taken a deal. It was page after page of personal notes followed by a drawing. If I ripped the page out and literally ate the page, I would temporarily gain the spell or skill. The strength of the spell was determined by the quality of the drawing.

There was no index, and when I opened it, the page took me to a haggling skill. The author had drawn a picture of a coin with a note, “It’s never too late to start planning for the future.” I grunted and flipped the page. This one was for a super strength skill. The art was a stick figure with bulging arms.  

I was kinda hoping the book would know what I needed.

I quickly flipped, stopping on a page with a surprisingly well-drawn bubble with a cartoon orc choking inside. It was a spell called Vacuum Sealed.

It was from a crawler named Sun Daiyu, and the quote was pretty strange. “Choose your enemy wisely, for you eventually become him.” I didn’t have time to figure that all out. I ripped the page free, balled up the paper, and I shoved it my mouth, chewing rapidly.

Swallowing a whole piece of paper ended up taking longer than I anticipated. I pulled a bottle of water from my inventory to help wash it down.

A new achievement flashed followed by a notification I could use the spell a total of three times in the next three days. It was at level 12. I scrolled, found the spell, and yelled “Get back!”

I cast Vacuum Sealed on the van.

A bubble appeared around the on-fire, smoking vehicle. A bubble that immediately filled with smoke. Thankfully, it appeared there was some sort of one-way relief valve, and black smoke filtered out the top like a chimney. The entire van rose in the air, an effect of the spell I wasn’t expecting. I wasn’t up on my physics with this sort of thing, but I suddenly had visions of the entire van smushing like a tin can, and I held my breath, afraid I’d just hastened the extermination of the bugbear team.

But, thankfully, the thing didn’t collapse in on itself. The fire quickly stopped, and after a moment, the bubble popped on its own. The van, which had been on its side, dropped about five feet and crashed heavily to the paved road with a massive crunch.

For a moment, nobody said anything. The engine compartment started smoking again, and the bugbear with the bucket doused it while the other one with the burned arm sat on the ground with a defeated huff.  I examined him.    

Radoslav. Bugbear. Level 75 Jack of all Trades.

One of three (well, now one of two) from team Free Love.

The other one, who continued to bounce around the destroyed minivan with his bucket was a Driver. His level was only 65. His name was Jasha.  

Both of them were wearing tie-dyed t-shirts and had several beads around their necks. Jasha had a tie-dye headband, too. And in true, cartoon style, neither were wearing pants. Their look instantly reminded me of Cheech and Chong, though that look was not mirrored in their pained expressions.

Donut: THEY’RE BOTH DRESSED LIKE HIPPIES, BUT SOMETHING IS OFF. THEY’RE MORE LIKE THE HIPPIES YOU SEE ON THE PACKAGING FOR HALLOWEEN COSTUMES, YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN? LIKE THEY’RE UNDERCOVER COPS BUT WITH REALLY LOW BUDGETS. I DO LIKE THAT HEADBAND, THOUGH. DO YOU THINK IT’S MAGICAL?

Carl: It’s not.

I eyed the bugbear sitting on the ground warily.

“You doing okay there?” I asked.

Radoslav the bugbear looked up at us. Our eyes met for the first time. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was momentarily taken aback at the pure emotion in the NPC’s face. This guy was terrified, but he was trying to hide it. He chinned at the van.

“First race. First obstacle, and we’re already crashed,” he said. “Alevtina was in the back, and she broke her neck when that damn bug knocked us over.” He produced a pack of cigarettes and he pulled one out with his mouth. He offered the pack to me. I hesitated, but I declined. The other bugbear, Jasha, seemed to give up on pouring water on the van and settled next to him on the asphalt. He pulled a cigarette from his friend’s pack. Jasha produced a lighter and lit them both.

“She’s dead. I checked,” Jasha said to the other bugbear. He itched at his headband, and then with a disgusted huff, ripped it off and tossed it. From my shoulder, Donut shifted. She wanted to jump down there and take it.  

“She’s dead. We’re dead,” Radoslav said, taking a deep drag. “I never thought we had real chance anyway.”

“She did,” Jasha said, indicating the overturned van with his cigarette. “She thought we had good chance.”  

Donut jumped from my shoulder and walked up to the pair. The headband disappeared into her inventory. I suppressed a grunt of amusement.

She sniffed at Radoslav.

“I’m sorry for your misfortunes,” Donut said. “I am Princess Donut, and that is Carl. Is there anything we can do for you?”

Donut: THEY DON’T EVEN SMELL LIKE HIPPIES, EVEN WITH THE DISGUSTING CIGARETTES.

Carl: How do hippies smell?

Donut: THEY SMELL LIKE ANGEL’S OWNER. THEY SMELL LIKE PATCHOULI MIXED WITH FARMERS MARKETS MIXED WITH SO-CALLED “NATURAL” BODY DEODORANT THAT JUST GAVE UP TEN MINUTES INTO THE JOB. THESE GUYS SMELL LIKE SAD, WET DOGS.  

Carl: Yeah, but they never said they’re hippies.

Donut: THEY’RE WEARING TIE-DYE. THEY’RE CALLED TEAM FREE LOVE. IT’S FALSE ADVERTISING. YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT FALSE ADVERTISING, CARL. I’LL BE NICE TO THEM FOR NOW, BUT I’M TELLING YOU, THERE’S SOMETHING SUSPICIOUS GOING ON. 

“Is good to meet you both,” Radoslav said. “But now is bad time for us.” He offered a cigarette to Donut.

“No thank you,” she said.

“Thank you for stopping, friends,” Jasha finally said, looking between me and Donut. “There is nothing you can do for us. We can’t pass the finish line unless we’re in our van. You better get moving. You can’t come in last place anymore, but you can come in second to last. And there is a time limit.”  

I turned to examine their van. My bucket was there on the ground, having finally run out of water.

“You’re one of them, no?” Radoslav asked. “A person from this world?”

It was my turn to pause.

“Yes,” I finally said. “We are. We’re crawlers, and everyone else in the current heat are NPCs.”

Neither said anything for several moments. They just smoked as they looked at their crashed van.

Jasha flicked some ashes and sighed. “I tried to pass that bug just as we entered the cave, and the damn thing sideswiped us. We went a’tumbling just as that manatee came out of the water. It picked up the bug and chomped it in half. Killed our friend when we crashed.” He let out a stream of smoke. “She was so excited about all this, too. Thought we was going to win whole thing. Get this great prize.”

“Wait,” Donut asked. “What’s the prize?”

The two bugbears looked at each other and then at Donut.

Jasha let out a small, sad laugh. “Don’t you know? If we win the last race, we are given freedom. We are taken from here and moved to some other place where we don’t have to fight anymore. Maybe you get offered different prize since you’re ‘crawlers’ or whatever you’re called.”

I immediately thought of Rory and Lorelai the goblin shamankas from the very first floor. I remembered the forlorn quality to Rory’s voice when she talked about moving from the first to the second floor. And here we were on the tenth, and these guys were no different.

Which was odd because so far, not including the NPCs from the last floor, all of them this deep weren’t supposed to be aware that this wasn’t real at all.  

Donut swished her tail. “How do you know all this?”

“Because this is what they told us,” Jasha said. “We are all volunteers. Sort of volunteers. Last I remember, we were in the slime mines defending the air pocket, and we killed a guy like yourselves. He was a bune. A crawler. But before he died, he said he just wanted to go home. So Radoslav asked him where this home was, and the bune told us that this was all a game. And the moment he said this, it was like there was a click in my brain, and I just knew. I just knew what he was saying was right.” He indicated the other bugbear. “Radoslav here used to be my brother. Then my enemy. But usually cousin. We were in the slime mines. We were on the submarine. We were in the rope city. Every time, different place. And we didn’t remember. We didn’t remember until we did.”

“And there were other times, too,” Radoslav added. “When were weren’t anywhere. We’re not supposed to remember those parts, either, but we do.” He shuddered.

Jasha nodded. “It all came at once, these memories. And once we realized this, there was a voice. And then we were in a big room, and the voice gave us a choice. We could go back into the cold, or we could fight for our lives in a race. And if we won, fair and square, we could be free. That there was a place for us. A real place for us to live and never go to the in-between ever again.”

“And if we don’t win,” Radoslav added. “This is okay, too, because it means it will be over. Finally.” He sighed. “But Alevtina really wanted to win. She wanted to start a family. Maybe with me.”

“Or maybe with me,” Jasha said. He made a sad laugh. “But probably with you.”

Jasha took another drag, letting the moment hang. “Today is a bad day. We lost Alevtina, and I lost my jacket. Almost every memory, I have my leather jacket. My father gave me that jacket.” He pulled at his shirt. “I know he’s not real, my father. But the jacket was, and I don’t have it anymore. I don’t even know what these clothes are.”   

“I knew it!” Donut said, voice brightening. “So you’re not faking to be fakers. You’re just in costumes! Well, I feel so much better. You certainly don’t smell like hippies.”  

Jasha tapped the side of his head. “We have stories. But these stories aren’t real. Aren’t truth. I don’t know if all the other racers understand that these memories are lies, but we understand. Radoslav and Alevtina and me are supposed to be musicians. Racing to earn money on our way to big concert. But none of this is true. It is play acting, and it’s a stupid story anyway. But before the slime mines, we would’ve believed it true even though we were never before musicians.”

Christ, I thought. “Listen, guys. You’re not out of this yet. If you were, you would’ve been disintegrated or whatever like that other team was.”

“Their mount died,” Jasha said. “Rules are different for mounts. Our engine caught on fire. Two of our tires are flat. Our axle is broken. We’re not going anywhere. We are not going to be crossing any finish line.”

I was already sifting through my inventory. I really wished I had access to my engineering table. I had the materials to build a flatbed cart, but I’d have to do it manually. I wasn’t positive this would be within the “rules,” but we could try. I looked back at our truck, just parked there on the side of the road at the very entrance to the cave. I could see Mongo through the windshield, screeching and waving his wings angrily, though still staying inside like he’d been ordered. I couldn’t remember if there was a tow hitch attached to the back of the truck. I assumed there wouldn’t be.

“We’re going to tow you to the finish line,” I said.

The two bugbears looked at each other and then at us.

“Why would you do this?” Jasha finally asked.

I was ready to make up some bullshit, but instead I just told them the truth. That if more than one team didn’t finish the race, we were pretty sure we’d have to race against our friends in further heats.

Jasha nodded. He stood, cracked his back, and tossed his cigarette into the water.

“This is a good reason. And is an honorable reason. Do you have materials to tow?”

Chapter 5

I had a long plank of wood out, and I was in the process of reinforcing it and attaching the wheels to the bottom. I pulled Rend out of storage, and the large meatball had immediately moved to the side of the road and fallen in the water trying to eat the pieces of manatee gore. I’d had to jump in to haul him out. The damn thing weighed a literal ton. Now I had him sitting on the cart, using his body to hold a piece of wood in place while I secured a crossbeam. He giggled furiously every time the board vibrated with the drill. Donut was complaining loudly about how much he now smelled because he’d gotten some of the bug’s innards on him.  

Radoslav and Jasha were giving Rend a wide berth.

I had Donut keep Mongo in the truck. I was pretty sure we weren’t allowed to steal each other’s vehicles on this floor, but it was good to have security just in case. Mongo was not a fan of the arrangement. He had discovered the horn on the food truck and kept banging into it.

Unfortunately, the horn wasn’t a normal honk, but a recording of a gangster voice saying, “Make way for the big shot!” followed by a chicken squawk and the rat-a-tat shooting sound of a tommy gun.

It was funny the first time. By the 20th time, I was ready to go over there and rip the whole horn out.

Across from me, the two bugbears were energized with the thought of not yet dying. A part of me felt bad about this arrangement because I knew I was helping them now, but I wouldn’t think twice about letting them die during the next race. I supposed, that was the point. The cruelty of this all was a feature, not a bug. At least they knew this, too, and that somewhat eased the small amount of guilt.  

It felt like regression, having to fight against NPCs, especially after the chaos of the last floor. They were using awakened NPCs for this floor because it actually helped the storyline, not hurt it. If they knew they’d be “safe” at the end of this, many would be willing to do anything to win. But at the same time, the very nature of the floor meant most would end up dead. It was like a purge of the problem-causing components. Once again, I found myself wondering who was responsible for this particular aspect of this floor, the AI or the showrunners? If it was the showrunners, then their reasoning was obvious, though they wouldn’t have expected this many crawlers to be here. This felt more like an AI decision. And if it was, what were its motivations for this particular setup? Just to be a dick? Why would it be trying to get rid of awakened NPCs? Or maybe it just wanted to stop us from “infecting” any more of the NPCs they had in storage.

We still had five hours to complete the race, and so far nobody else had come down the road.

“Who are the other teams?” I asked the bugbears as I quickly worked.

“It was dark, and we didn’t get a good view of them,” Jasha said. “We only met the triplets, who are now dead, and the other team. Team Sparkles.”

“Yeah, they should’ve passed by now, no?” Radoslav asked.

“Not yet. Not with that mount.” Jasha said. “That bush will only move when it wants to.”   

“Team Sparkles?” Donut asked. She was peering back the way we’d come. “Was that the unicorn? I think they’re coming now.”  

Sure enough, a light appeared a moment later. My minimap wasn’t working, but I could soon see the outline of the tumbleweed thing with a unicorn head coming up.

“That’s them,” Jasha said. “Damn jerks,” he muttered.  

As the silhouette approached, I tried to figure out what I was looking at. The “tumbleweed” part of wasn’t rolling but just moving along the ground, like it was magically gliding. Not fast, but at a steady pace. The head of the unicorn popped out the top, and the second, smaller, rodent-like creature rode on the unicorn’s head.    

“What is that thing?” I asked.

“The mount is biological,” Jasha said. “It’s an Avernus Creeper. A plant that walks on the ground with thousands of little feet. Almost like bug, but it’s a carnivorous plant. It can move fast in bursts. But it’s normally slow.”

“A plant?” Donut asked as the thing approached. She moved to the center of the road, keeping the under construction trailer behind her. Her tiara glittered, and I knew she was using her sniper ability to examine it better. The light was coming from a Torch spell similar to Donut’s. “I bet Mordecai would know all about it.”

“Don’t know how that thing is steering it, honestly,” Jasha said

“So the unicorn isn’t the mount? It’s the racer?” I asked, watching it approach. “That’s weird.”

As soon as I said it, it was close enough for me to properly examine it.

Avernus Creeper.

This is the biological mount of Team Sparkles for the purpose of the 10th floor. As such, it is protected from most spells that would normally affect mounts.

This is a tangle of not-quite sentient vines. Under normal circumstances, these things are pretty bad news. They’re loosely related to the Gehenna Brambles you guys loved from the 6th floor, but these spread mostly by moving on their own as opposed to just getting bigger and bigger. They’re almost impossible to kill because even a tiny branch or thorn off one will rapidly grow to full size. Luckily for us all, this particular shrub is limited to half size and is being prevented from procreating outside their garage.

Their thorns are quite toxic, but that toxicity is nullified on this floor. I would still avoid getting tangled up in one.

“Team Sparkles?” Donut asked as she, too, examined the strange conveyance.

 “Dwight and Lucienne,” Jasha said, not sounding impressed. “We met just before the race. Lucienne is the small one. She’s got a mouth on her.”

The massive, round bunch of brambles came to a stop in front of us. Donut remained in the middle of the road, looking up at them.  

“Yo, fatty, get out of the road,” the unicorn shouted down at Donut. He had a surprising voice that did not match his colorful exterior. It was a deep, surly, three-packs-a-day Boston accent.

“Fatty?” Donut asked, incredulous. “Are you talking to me?”

The red, furry thing on the unicorn’s head had a tail wrapped around the base of the opalescent horn, presumably anchoring it in place. The thing was just a little smaller than Donut. She was like a mix between a monkey and a chinchilla. She had two legs, two, monkey-like arms, and a rodent head. She’d be cute if her red, vein-covered eyes weren’t bulging out of their head, giving the impression she was on the verge of literally exploding. She also wore a mini racecar driver helmet that was white with a blue and red stripe down the center. The helmet glowed with enchantment.

When the fuzzy, bug-eyed creature spoke, she had a high-pitched, French-like accent completely at odds with the voice of her partner.

“Who else would he be talking to, you corpulent swine,” the small creature shouted. “Get out of the way before we are forced to convert you into roadkill.”

The creature whispered something to Dwight the unicorn, who laughed in response.

“What? What did you say?” Donut yelled, getting more outraged by the second. “If you think I’m going to allow myself to just get insulted by a donkey with a tumor growing from its head and Curious George’s crack addict cousin, you both are in for a rude awakening. I’ll have you know I am practically twice both of your levels, and I’m quite sure that stupid mount of yours is flammable. In fact, let’s test...”

“Donut, chill,” I called before she did something stupid. “Let them go around.”  

I quickly examined the two creatures, starting with the small one.

Lucienne. Mandagot. Level 81 Soul Sucker.

One of two members of Team Sparkles.

Warning: This creature worships Diwata and will be automatically hostile toward you because Diwata HATES your ass.

A mandagot is a fairy-class creature that comes in many shapes, though most are stomach churning monstrosities that are supposed to be “cute.” These things are a combination of two or three fuzzy woodland creatures. Legend has it that they are born of regular fairies who’ve had relations with forest animals, which is a pretty common occurrence with the freaks who worship Diwata. They have multiple magical abilities and can punch well over their level class, so be wary.

I grunted as I moved my attention to the larger of the two. The unicorn.

Dwight. Sparkling Unicorn. Level 87 Enchanter.

One of two members of team number two, Team Sparkles.

I bet you already know what a unicorn is. A sparkling unicorn is pretty much the same thing, but they sparkle because they have even more magic permeating throughout them. Their horns are quite valuable to certain parties, so if you kill him, it’s recommended to grab the horn as quickly as possible.  

Most unicorns are regarded for their beauty and their grace and their child-like innocence. They’re generally known for their overly gentle manner.

But not Dwight. Dwight is known for being a complete prick. He’s the type of guy who would call the police on a kid setting up a lemonade stand. He’s the type of guy who would one-star an upcoming videogame because the artists had the temerity to draw a female character who didn’t give him an instant erection. He’s the type of guy, at the office pizza party, who would take three pieces, knowing there’s not enough to go around.

Donut continued to sputter in outrage. She did not move, despite me asking. And even if she did, the tumbleweed would still have to climb over the half-built trailer and the crashed van.

Just behind the round tumbleweed, parked at the entrance to the cave sat our food truck, and within that truck Mongo screeched with outrage and leaned again against the horn.

Make way for the big shot! Bawk!

The plant mount seemed to react negatively to the horn and burst forward. There was a strange rustling noise, like multiple twigs snapping, but not all at the exact same time. “Gah!” Dwight shouted as the whole thing lurched. We all dived out of the way, much faster than it had been moving before. Donut jumped upwards and over the mount as I dove off the side of the road, falling into the slimy cave water. The two bugbears did the same, but jumping to the other side of the road.

The tumbleweed crawled right over the trailer, skittered over the van, and continued on its way.

“Fuck yoooouuuu!” Dwight called as they disappeared into the darkness.

Mongo screeched and honked again.

Sputtering, I pulled myself from the water. I had a level 5 leech attached to my leg, but it immediately died from the damage reflect and fell off.

From the center of the trailer, Rend remained. He’d been run over by the tumbleweed, and he’d actually taken a small amount of damage from it, which was unusual. He’d fallen over, and his elephant legs waved in the air as he righted himself. I quickly made sure he was all right. He giggled as I ran my hand over him. He had multiple thorns in his hard skin.

“Poky,” he said as I plucked each one out.

Avernus Creeper Thorn.

Each one of these has the ability to grow into a full-sized Avernus plant. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. It is one of the most invasive plant species known to the universe. Whole planets have been lost to this stuff. Seriously.

This thorn will not sprout on this floor. Consider yourself lucky.  

I asked Mordecai about the thorns, and as usual with this sort of thing, he was pretty excited. He asked me to save them all but to not take them out of inventory again until we were in the saferoom. He was going to buy something called a Botanist’s Table upgrade attachment for his alchemy table.

“Fatty,” Donut muttered as she came walking up. “Carl, as soon as the next race starts, I’m going to set them on fire.”

I watched the light of Team Sparkles disappear into the darkness.

“No arguments here,” I said.

~

It was slow going to get the trailer attached and then the van affixed to the flatbed. Despite my super enhanced strength, flipping the van over and getting it up on the trailer was extremely awkward. But between the three of us, and with Donut “helping” we were able to turn it upright and lift it onto the bed. And then it took a few minutes for me to properly position everything. I had to put Rend away for this part as he was too wide now to stand in the back of the truck. We’d have to get rid of the ovens and deep fryer and drawers if we wanted him to stay out. As it was, Mongo barely fit.  

Like I suspected, there was no trailer hitch at the back of the truck, but there was a step for the back door that was welded on pretty well, and we used a few lengths of chains to attach it all. It would be fine as long as we went super slow and as long as the road remained flat.

There was no sign of the missing teams, and I assumed they were all ahead of us, meaning we would be in third to last place, and the bugbears would be in second to last.

I’d already confirmed with some of the others via chat that there wasn’t any sort of trick to this part. As long as you finished and as long as at least one team was behind you, or didn’t finish at all, you would survive. So far, most everyone had finished their races. Every heat appeared to end at the same place, so we’d all be together once we finished.

Despite what the rules said, it seemed the two bugbears could ride in the truck with us. They just had to be in their van when we crossed the finish line. We decided to keep Radoslav in the food truck, but in the very back with the door open, keeping an eye on the crappy trailer while Jasha remained in the van.

I’d asked them if they wanted me to store the body of their dead friend, Alevtina the female bugbear—who’d also been decked head to toe in tie-dye—but they’d just dumped her body into the water. For a moment, I’d been taken aback at the callous nature of how they were treating their friend’s body, but after mentioning it to Mordecai, he said it was a bugbear thing. They believed it was weak to fret over the corpses of their fallen friends and family. They’d oftentimes eat them. Or just leave them where they’d fallen. They’d still honor and mourn their dead, but that was never tied to the bodies themselves.  

The wheels were from our supply of goblin wheels we’d pilfered all the way on the first floor, and I wasn’t sure how’d they’d hold up under all this weight, but hopefully going slow would keep everything steady. I’d doubled up the wheels just in case.

We moved slowly through the tunnels, coming across multiple manatee corpses, all killed in the same way. They were literally ripped in half. I finally stopped the truck long enough to examine one.

Corpse of Miss Brianna Kim. Level 90 Screeching Death Manatee. Killed by evisceration by mount Old Shuck from The Jugglers.

I suspected “Old Shuck” was the gigantic, pitch black wolf thing we’d seen at the very beginning.

As we drove, slowly moving our way through the cave, Donut moved to the back of the truck and had taken up a conversation with Radoslav.

“So, your story on this floor is that you’re musicians? Carl can play the bagpipes, and I am a singer of some renown. Perhaps we can put on a performance once we get to this town.”

Radoslav grunted. “I am supposed to be a musician, and I think I know how to play my pan flute, but I’ve never actually pick it up. Not in real life. I was the pan flute, Alevtina was bongos and tambourine, and Jasha sings and plays the violin. Right before we crashed, we were joking how we’ve never really tried.”

Donut gasped. “Carl, do you think if we give Mongo a tambourine, he will...” she stopped dead. She went so silent, I turned all the way around in my seat to make sure she was okay.

“Donut?” I asked.

“I just got a strange notification,” she said after a minute. “It says the people have voted for Otto the slime guy to be the Manatee ‘stand-in’ in the Arena. It says he’s being transferred from the 18th to the Arena.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“That’s all it says. Elle and Imani don’t know what it means. And Prepotente says he killed Crackle Worms during his race while Jurgen held the reins, and his mobs were also special guest stars or whatever, but he chose to get the experience.”

I sent out a mass message, asking if anyone else had seen this yet.

I received a couple answers that people had just started receiving similar messages. In one case, a crawler I’d first met on the fifth floor named Ajib said he’d also picked the let-the-audience vote choice for his mob, but it said they’d voted to transfer the monster to the “Arena.” Mordecai said he had no idea what any of that meant, either.

I had a sinking feeling about the whole thing. I didn’t want to even give thought to my suspicions. Not yet.    

It soon became clear that we were going to be one of the last teams to arrive at the finish line.   

Elle: Anyone else have to do this fan Meet-N-Greet bullshit?

Donut: OMG YOU GET TO DO A FAN MEET AND GREET?

Elle: Apparently, but it’s this huge room, and there’s just one guy in here. It’s just like the Butcher’s Masquerade. I have to wear a damn nametag.

Donut: ZEV DO I GET TO DO THE MEET AND GREET?

Zev: Well... No. So, the Meet and Greet program was set up a while ago for this floor just in case anybody made it this far, and we pretty much sold out immediately. It was set up so viewers could come to the planet and watch the end of the races from the stands, and after each race, there’s a reception and they could spend some time meeting their favorite crawler. But then everything, uh, happened. The quarantine is still in place. You can still come to the Earth system no problem, but once you’re here, you can’t leave. So all 500 fans who signed up for the Meet and Greet package cancelled. All except one guy. A soother. He’s a fan of Elle. Let’s say a superfan. He came despite the quarantine. They say he couldn’t even get anyone to fly him in, so he bought his own yacht just to come and meet her.

Donut: OMG THAT IS KIND OF ADORABLE. ELLE TELL YOUR FAN I SAID HI.

Elle: This creepy motherfucker is wearing a shirt with a cartoon, naked picture of me on it. I’m not getting anywhere near this pervert. He’s just standing there blushing. If they didn’t have saferoom rules in here, I’d have iced him already.

We finally exited the cave, and a pair of dots emerged on the GPS just as multiple, colorful lights appeared in the distance. The dots were labeled Hungry Eyes Village and Finish Line.

“Would you look at that,” I said as the town came into view. But Donut wasn’t paying attention as she was now fully invested in Elle’s continuing commentary on her awkward fan meetup.

Elle: Oh god, he wants me to sign some giant pillow thing that has me on it. They didn’t even get my anatomy right. My nipples are not blue.      

Donut: I WAS WONDERING ABOUT THAT. THEY ALWAYS GIVE YOU BLUE NIPPLES IN THE SNICKS. I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN, THOUGH. I FEAR THEY’VE OVER- EXAGGERATED CARL SO MUCH THAT IF HE EVER GETS A GIRLFRIEND FROM OUTSIDE THE DUNGEON SHE’S GOING TO BE NOTHING BUT DISAPPOINTED.

Elle: Donut, I love you, but have you ever considered not saying everything that comes to you the moment it pops in your head?

Donut: WHAT DO YOU MEAN?

The lights were from a line of spotlights waving back and forth. Dozens of roads led from all directions, all coming together at the finish line.

“Huh,” I said, trying to follow one of the roads, but it disappeared into the dark. I wondered if it was always going to be like this, if we’d always end up back in this town after the race and if we’d be able to see other tracks during our own races.

Behind, the trailer weaved and bumped as the road went down a decline. I slowed. It’d taken us almost four hours to go fifty kilometers, but we still had time. I looked about the roads, looking for other vehicles. I only saw a few. There was what appeared to be a giant, six-legged horse limping its way along several tracks over to my left. To my right there was a smoking station wagon that was being pushed by what appeared to be a group of four ogres. But that was it.

Ahead, an arch loomed with the familiar, black and white checkered pattern of a finish line. All the tracks converged here at the finish line, making a wide road. I remembered there was supposed to be like 1,800 of these races, so I imagined there was some magic here as this was more like 100 or so roads converging. Either way, we approached the finish line.  

“You better get into your van,” I called to Radoslav.

The bugbear turned and bowed from the back of the truck. “Thank you, Carl and Princess Donut,” he said. “I know and understand for tomorrow’s race we are not friends. But today we are friends, and I am grateful for today. Tonight I will drink to Alevtina and dreams not attained, and I will drink to the friends of today.”

He jumped out the back, landing heavily on the trailer and moved into his destroyed minivan.

Donut returned to Mongo’s back and sat with me as we approached the finish line. On either side were metallic bleachers, but they were empty. There wasn’t anyone here at all, despite the multiple spotlights. In the dark of night, it was a strangely lonely feeling.

“Carl,” Donut said just as we crossed the finish line.

“Yeah?”  

“We’re going to have to kill those bugbear guys eventually, right?”

“Probably,” I said.

“I hate this place,” she said. “I wish they were all like that stupid unicorn and his disgusting monkey.”

“Me too, Donut.”

~

Heat One. Results.

First Place: One Fine Pig. (M)
Second Place: The Jugglers. (B)
Third Place. Lady Dominators and the Gimp. (M)
Fourth Place: The Wild Hunt. (B)
Fifth Place: Girth the Trouble. (M)
Sixth Place: Team Sparkles. (B)
Seventh Place: The Royal Court of Princess Donut. (M)
Eighth Place: Team Free Love. (M)

Eliminated: The Trauco Triplets. (B)

Heat Two begins soon.

~
Heyo everyone! Thank you, as always. I appreciate you all.

Next drop we'll finally get to the traditional new-book-reveals such as the lootboxes, Mordecai's form, spellbook of the floor prize, etc. We'll learn about everyone else's vehicles and some of the challenges they'll be facing in future races.

I know this update seemed to have come a little slow, but there's a lot of under the hood stuff for this one's setup, and I'm getting my ducks in a row for the next chapter which is all the achievements and whatnot from the end of book 7. It's a lot of work. Also, I needed to make sure I have all the racers mapped out for Carl and Donut's heats (and yes, I know I'm not using that term 100% correctly). But we'll also have some challenges for the other crawlers as well. This is going to be one of the most straightforward floors which means the twists and turns have to be a different flavor. What lengths will Carl go to protect his friends? While the last few floors were difficult for action-movie reasons, I suspect the tenth floor might be the most difficult yet because of some of the choices they'll have to make. This one is going to be threading a whole different needle than I usually thread, and I can't wait to get deeper into it.
~
END SPOILERS

(I'm going to try to remember to post END SPOILERS from now on)

Thanks to everyone who came out to Emerald City Comic Con last weekend and/or U Bookstore in Seattle. Next up is AuthorCon in Williamsburg in a week and a half! A couple people have asked me about it because I'm not listed on the site or in any programming. Don't worry. I will be there. There's like 200 authors attending this thing, and I'll be there all weekend manning a booth just like the good ol' days. This is the last booth-style event I signed up for before PRH kinda took over my con appearances, so this is the last time other than maybe Litrpg Con in July where I'll be hand selling books this year. Still, if you're planning on going, I highly suggest your BYOB in case I run out.