Book 8, Chapters 11 and 12 (Patreon)

Chapter 11

<Entry from Carl’s Book of Boom.>

Philomene H. Crawler #12,850,361.

Race: Human.

Class: Agojie.

Final level: 62.

I feel ashamed that I am leaving the dungeon, like I am abandoning the fight, like I am giving up, being a coward. But I have no choice, I think. Orou is dead. Moussa is dead. I entered the dungeon with such a strong faith. But how can it be real? How can any of it be real if such a thing as this place exists? Maybe, in time, my belief in Allah will return. It’s like the warmth of the world has all gone.

But now, in this moment as I write this, I do have faith in you, Carl. I do not know what will happen tomorrow, but I do know I can’t lose that too, that faith that I have that someone will help us. So I step out holding until the little shred I have left. Please forgive me for doing this. My dream is one day I will kneel before Allah and apologize for losing my faith, but my bigger dream is that I will go into this room, take a deal, go to sleep, and never wake up. And in my final dreams, I see Orou and Moussa and my children and know that I sleep forever because you, Carl, held the axe that they swallowed.

Drawing: a poorly drawn smiley face.

Associated Spell: Detect Hidden Curse. Casts at level 4. 

~

I grinned up at the cleaner bot. “Can you, uh, sift through all this, but keep anything that’s paper or possibly important? Can you tell what is and isn’t important?” 

The bot made a noise that sounded like a growl.

“Neon Blue?” Donut exclaimed as she continued to examine the bootleg makeup palette. “My aesthetic most certainly doesn’t include something as crass as ‘neon blue.’ Anyone can stand out when they spackle on bright colors. Makeup is supposed to enhance one’s beauty. You can’t even make a good smoky eye with any of this. How can you even blend these? Zev! I hope you’re seeing this! This is why I must be consulted on all merchandise deals!”

“Look, I found more from your brand,” Samantha said, emerging from the garbage pile. She spit something on the ground. Her own lips were now a bright, bright red that practically glowed. “Look, it’s a color called Pussy Lips. It’s already used, though. That means I get to keep it.”

Donut gasped in further outrage.

“Listen,” I said to the cleaner bot, trying my best to ignore Donut and Samantha. “We need to clean this up, but if there’s important things in here, I don’t want you to zap it away like you just did to the kitchen table. Mordecai, come here.”

Mordecai was examining what looked like a comic book from the pile, but it had gotten wet. He dropped it and wiped his skeletal hand on his robes.

I pulled the white cleaner bot from my inventory, and I shoved it at Mordecai. “Take this and do what needs to be done to get it to work for us.” The white robot was slightly smaller than our own unit. It let out a shrill beep and tried to wriggle away from me.

Our cleaner bot made a confused beep at the sight of the other one. The white one beeped back as Mordecai grasped it. He pressed something on the top of the new unit. All the lights on it flicked off.

“You do this for me,” I said to our robot, “I’ll make sure we get this thing all up and running ASAP. Then you can have a friend.”

“I just gotta reset it,” Mordecai said, turning the white bot over in his hands. It had blood on it. The thing had been used to clean up Architect Houston’s operating theater. “I haven’t seen this model in a while, actually. Curious they broke it out for a new season of Faction Wars.”      

“Three beeps if you understand,” I said to our cleaner bot, which was now hovering directly over Mordecai.

It beeped three times. It moved closer to the now-turned off white bot, like it was sniffing it.  

“Good,” I said. Donut was in the chat with Zev, bitching up a storm. She had a bunch of makeup items spread out in front of her as Samantha clucked over them.

I put my hand on Donut. “Come on, Princess. We need to reset our buffs, clean up, and then we gotta get out there.”

“How are we going to do that, Carl? Your pile of garbage is blocking the door to my room!”

I started to toss things aside, occasionally putting things into my own inventory as we made our way to the back of the room.

“I miss my Sledgie,” Donut grumbled as I tossed stuff aside. “He’d have a path for me in like one second. I hope he’s okay.”  

“Don’t forget to keep draining hats,” Rosetta said absently as we made a path. She, too, was going through the pile of junk. She rubbed some of the goo off a naga cloak and pulled it to her nose. “This isn’t fire suppression gel like I thought. I’ve smelled this before, but I don’t recall from where.”

~

A while later, we entered the garage to find Splash Zone, Dong, Mongo, and Rend all sitting in a circle watching Hedy the gremlin balance a massive wrench on the tip of her finger. As we watched, the gremlin flipped the wrench in the air and caught it again on the same finger, keeping it balanced. Mongo screeched and waved his wings while Splash Zone clapped politely. Rend giggled, his voice a deep baritone.  

“Good show, good show,” Dong said. He had his now-massive nickel sock out. The thing was the size of a garbage bag, and it just sat on the floor next to him. It smelled...it smelled like one would expect a magical spunk sock might smell. The elderly stripper turned to the sock. “Did you see that, Jefferson? Such control!”  

Mongo noticed Donut and screeched, jumping all around her. Rend giggled at me, and a few raw French fries fell from his mouth. Across the way, the food truck sat. The giant tommy gun was removed from the roof. A group of three gremlins I’d never seen before were crawling over the vehicle.

“Mongo, mommy has a hat for you!” Donut exclaimed. She produced the Egyptian hat and it appeared on the ground in front of her. He screeched and started to back up. “And Rend, you have the most lovely headband!”

“Where did these guys come from?” I asked Hedy, indicating the gremlins crawling over the food truck. A fourth one appeared, gnawing on a piece of chicken. As I watched, two of the gremlins picked up the giant tommy gun and started pulling it back toward the roof. “Hey! Keep that thing off the truck!”

The gremlin with the chicken piece flipped me off. The other two dragging the gun started laughing manically.  

Hedy shrugged. “For the first few hours after you return from a race, these weirdoes will do dem bulk o’ the repairs. They’re, uh, part of the garage methinks. Don’t really understand it myself.” She leaned in. “Don’t think thems real gremlins. They don’t really talk. Just do the cleanup work and then disappear, leaving me to finish the upgrades. Been callin ‘em the spookies.”

“So you’ve just been sitting here waiting for them to finish?”

“You don’t need to worry your pretty head,” the gremlin said. She looked me up and down, her gaze lingering on my boxers. She spun the large wrench in her left hand like it was a drumstick. She cleared her throat. “Working on a few ideas to help the princess here drive in an emergency while the spookies finish up. Was just taking a wee break when yous walked in. Speaking of, I needs a list of the crew you want to use. Splash Zone here says he’s a good driver. And an even better gunner. Might want to save ‘im for a later run.”

“Save him?” I asked. “I know he can’t drive two runs in a row, but I want to make certain we learn who the best drivers are right away.”

“Can’t use the same crew twice,” she said. “You can keep ‘em on as security for the garage. And your pets don’t count unless one of them drives. But if he goes on crew for the next heat, he’s out for the rest of the season.” She looked at Splash Zone, who was helping Dong and Donut put the hat on a still-backing-up Mongo. “Poor lad. He misses ‘is wife, that one.”   

“Shit,” I said. While I seriously doubted Splash Zone the otter would actually be a good driver, I hadn’t realized we had that limitation. “Okay, let me think about it.”

“Don’t be thinking on it too long,” she said.

“We’re going to go out there in the town to meet up with some of our friends,” I said. “Need us to pick anything up?”

“There, isn’t it great?” Donut said as Dong helped Mongo wear the hat. The dinosaur looked absolutely ridiculous. Rend started grunting and bouncing up and down as Donut produced the headband.

“I’m good for now,” Hedy said. “You best spend some time learning everything you can about your fellow racers. Gotta know which ones to trust and which ones are gonna try to blow ye off the road the moment the race starts.”

“We don’t trust anyone, Hedy,” I said.

The gremlin grinned and reached up to pat the side of my leg. “I think we’s gon get along just fine, yessir.”

Chapter 12

A few minutes later, the garage door opened, revealing a different world than the one we’d seen when the door closed. A group of rat-sized, lizard-like creatures with yellow hair appeared to have been sniffing around the outside of the garage door, and they scattered when the door opened. Mongo screeched and moved to make chase, but a quick shout from Donut kept him from running out.   

“Hey, git! Git now, git!” Hedy screamed at the little monsters. They disappeared before I had a chance to examine them.

“Canoodles,” Hedy said, glaring. “Gotta watch out for them. They’ll eat the tires right off the truck if one gets in.”

“Mongo, Rend, stay here with Splashy and Dong. Guard Hedy,” Donut said from my shoulder as we stepped outside.

Entering Hungry Eyes Village.

Entering Your Team Roundabout.  

From the garage, Mongo screamed in protest, waving his wings while Rend—wearing his new headband—also complained loudly. Dong gave us a salute as the garage door closed.

“Be good!” Donut called.

I blinked. We had a giant “7” painted on the outside of our gray garage door. I assumed that 7 meant we’d come in 7th place in our heat.

Before I could say anything, I was assaulted with a wall of text.

Welcome to Hungry Eyes. You are standing in your Team Roundabout.

You have access to this area for another six hours and 43 minutes. After that, you will be teleported back to your garage in preparation for the next heat.

Here in the Team Roundabout, you may find and interact with your current competitors. Outside NPCs and racers are allowed in your roundabout, but they must be brought in or given access by a racer. Beyond the portal you will find the main Vendor Village of Hungry Eyes where you may find multiple shops and amenities. Here is where you may find and interact with racers and NPCs in different heats.

Saferoom rules apply in the Team Roundabout area of Hungry Eyes. Saferoom rules apply in most public-access Vendor Village areas and vending halls.

Saferoom rules Do NOT apply in your garage.

Saferoom rules Do NOT apply in certain areas of Vendor Village. You will receive a notification if you enter an area with alternate safety rules.

Please note. Actions that affect non-safe areas may or may not be allowed in safe areas depending on the action. For example, you may stand in a safe area and attempt to break into a locked non-safe area. However, standing in a safe zone while you shoot arrows at someone who stands in a non-safe area probably won’t work. Unless it’s funny, then we’ll see.

“Carl, what does any of that even mean?” Donut asked.  

“It means we need to be on our guard no matter where we are.”

I turned, examining the roundabout area. We stood facing a large, asphalt cul-de-sac ringed by nine garage doors, all painted with numbers from one to eight. The final, ninth door was still there, and it had a giant skull painted on it with red, runny paint. The moment I looked at, a strange notification popped up, even from this distance.

You need a key to enter this area. Keys will be awarded starting with the fourth heat.

Above, a blue sky with a red sun blazed, and the air was a little hot. Tall trees ringed the small neighborhood, and the spaces between driveways were filled with manicured, green grass, giving me the strange sense we were standing in the suburbs of some town. The whole place even smelled like recently-cut grass. Across the cul-de-sac, between the garages numbered two and three, a whole horde of those yellow lizards scampered off, disappearing into the thick woods. What had Hedy called them? Canoodles? I suspected these things were the janitor mobs of this floor.  

The cul-de-sac was a complete circle. We could drive our truck out of the garage, but there would be nowhere to go after that. There was a small, paved walking path between garage number one and the one with the skull which led to a shimmering, arched portal that wasn’t wide enough for our truck. Unlike most portals, we could actually see through the flickering, glass-like threshold. Beyond it was what appeared to be a neon-filled settlement.   

“Oi!” a voice called to my right. I turned to see a pair of bugbears sitting on lawn chairs in front of their closed garage door with the number 8. Radoslav and Jasha. Jasha had a kiddie pool on the ground in front of him with his furry feet within. The bugbear held a can of beer in his hand resting on his tie-dyed belly, and he wore sunglasses. He snored softly. The beer—a Busch Light—was slowly, slowly starting to tip.

Radoslav was the one who called us over. From their closed garage I could hear faint music playing. I recognized it as “Smoke on the Water” from Deep Purple.  

“Hi, Radoslav!” Donut called.

“I’m glad to see you guys made it,” I said, stepping off the driveway and into the soft grass. Donut jumped from my shoulder, also landing in the grass. She did a quick circle and then rolled over on her back, her new crupper jingling softly before she jumped back up and moved to sniff at the kiddie pool.

“We just got notice of what our upgrade is,” Radoslav said. “A loud sound system.” He sighed and indicated his partner. “I haven’t had the heart to wake him up to tell him yet.”

This close, I could smell the alcohol wafting off the sleeping Jasha. He wouldn’t be waking up any time soon.

“A sound system?” Donut asked, looking up. “Did you get some music, too? On the last floor I had a sound system. I was practically a DJ for the whole floor.”

“Yes, unfortunately,” Radoslav said. “It is some sort of ancient, tape-based system, and we received three of the cassettes. They are of musicians I have never heard of, but the gremlin in our garage is a big fan, if you can tell.”  

From the garage, the song ended and was followed by another song I recognized. It was the Otis Redding song, “(Sitting on) the Dock of the Bay.”  I grunted. “It could be worse.” I chinned over at the next garage over with the skull.

He nodded. “Have you gone to town yet?”

“Not yet,” I said. “Just about to go.”

Radoslav reached down into a cooler, produced a can of beer and tossed it at me. I caught it. It was ice cold. I hesitated and then cracked it open. I took a drink and gave an appreciative nod. He pulled another and offered it to Donut.

“No thank you,” Donut said.  

The bugbear nodded. He cracked the beer himself and took a draw. “Mercenary market is picked clean. We got in too late. It gets reset after every race. Next time, we’ll rush to the town. No point in rushing now. Only thing available is a couple slimes who can’t drive. We left them there. Be careful of the alleyways.”

“Good to know,” I said. Across the way, the garage door with the number four started to open. “Have you met any of our neighbors yet?”

“A few,” he said. Next to him, Jasha let out a loud snore, and the Busch Light tumbled to the ground. The bugbear remained asleep.

Radoslav pointed at the garage with the number two. “There’s a giant dog in there, and the two people from there came out and started juggling in the driveway. Is one of the scariest things I ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot.”

“They were juggling?” Donut asked. “The dog people were juggling? Like with balls?”

“Not with balls,” Radoslav said. “With toothed machines that roared. Gardening implements, I think. They were practicing throwing them in the air.”

Donut let out an indignant sniff. “But their team name is the ‘Jugglers.’ And they were literally juggling? Ridiculous. That’s just, I don’t know, stupidly uncreative. That would be like if we named our team ‘The beautiful Princess and the underwear guy who throws bombs.’ There should be some mystery to a name!”

Radoslav grunted. “Either way, they’re creepy fuckers.”  

“Christ,” I muttered. “What are they like? What race are they?”

“I do not know, my friend. They are like you, but they are painted white. And thinner. They’re not elves, but they’re thin like elves.”

“What about the dog?” Donut asked.

“It is black as night,” Radoslav said, taking a sip of beer. “It was just sitting there in the garage, and when it growled, it shook the ground.”   

“Pleasant,” Donut said. “Stupid dogs,” she added.

The fourth-place team’s door finished opening, revealing a dark garage that seemed to be completely filled with white and brown fur. This was clearly the garage of another biological mount, but I couldn’t see what it was. Next to me, Donut hissed.

“What is that thing?” I asked, trying to see.

Donut peered hard at the darkness. “It’s like a bear.”  

Before I could ask for more clarification, three figures flipped out of the garage, spreading into the cul-de-sac in a V-pattern. The three figures were bipedal, each about four feet tall, and they were literally somersaulting as they moved, feet over hands as they spread out. They made no noise whatsoever other than the soft pat of their hands and feet on the asphalt.

As they approached, the garage door behind them started to close.  

“Carl, what is happening?” Donut asked. “Are they attacking us?”

“Can’t attack out here,” I said, sighing.

“Today, I think I need harder stuff than just this beer,” Radoslav added. “Is like a madhouse out here.”

All three of the newcomers were decked out head to toe in bodysuits. The two on either side were in black suits. The one in the middle was in a red suit. Ninja suits. All three wore bandoliers covered with ninja stars. They turned and weaved around the cul-de-sac, flipping the whole time, like they were performing some sort of bizarre dance routine.

“Would you look at that!” Donut said, swishing her tail, watching. “Remember the monk seals from the eighth floor? Should I pull Raul out? He’s a ninja guy too. He could probably use a friend.”  

“Be ready in case they try something stupid,” I said, watching. I tried to examine them, but I received an error.

You are unable to examine this creature. But it’s a ninja. You can see that much.

The middle, red-suited creature finished its performance at the end of the bugbear’s driveway, facing us. It did one final somersault and stopped, legs spread out in an attack position. It pulled something from its back and spread them out with two hands over its head.

Nunchucks.

It bowed slightly, arms up in the air. When it bowed, I caught a hint of breasts in the ninja suit, suggesting the thing was female.  

“Hi!” Donut said, waving furiously.   

The other two creatures in the dark ninja suits stopped to the left and right of the red ninja. They also took up ninja poses, but neither held weapons. Both gave slight bows and then remained immobile, just staring at us.

None of the short creatures moved beyond that.

Next to me, Radoslav grunted and took a pull of beer.   

I couldn’t actually see what manner of NPC they were as the suits completely covered them, though I already had a guess based on the shape of their faces. I’d never met these guys before, but I’d heard a few stories about them, starting all the way back on the fifth floor. All three suits were magical, and I realized the suits themselves were what was keeping me from examining them, but if I looked at their eyes, which were the only exposed parts of their bodies, I could get the info box to pop up.

I saw my suspicions were correct.

Chiyome. Razor Fox. Level 80 Mistress of Nunchaku.

One of three from team The Wild Hunt.

Since this is the first time you’ve examined a Razor Fox, let me tell you about these little fellas. (And ladies, since the one you’re looking at is a lady ninja. They’re an equal opportunity society, though they make the women ninjas wear red because...well, I’m not sure why, but now you know which ones are girls and which ones are boys.)  

They’re ninjas with a ninja society, and it totally works if you don’t think too hard on it. A samurai society, like our late friend Toyotomi the Sai, is honor based. These guys are the same but the exact opposite at the same time. They have codes and honor and all that crap, but they also enjoy things like hard drugs, showing off, and killing things for fun. They love their conspiracies and schemes. But they’re all super funny, too, which is why I love these guys.

Each one picks a weapon proficiency upon childhood, kinda like a ninja turtle thing, and they train in both that and in a ranged weapon as well. Most, like Chiyome here, pick throwing stars as their ranged weapon of choice.

(You know throwing stars, right Carl? You still have some in your inventory, yet you haven’t touched them since the first floor. It’s quite literally the most broken weapon in this entire game.)

And while Chiyome is proficient with throwing stars, it’s nothing compared to her skills with good, old fashioned nunchucks.   

Oh, and you should probably note these guys use aura magic as well. Both blessings and dreads.

I made a mental note to loot the ninja suits if I ever got a chance. The cowls appeared to be a separate piece, and if they were considered a hat item, they would be extremely valuable for Donut.

“A fox!” Donut suddenly exclaimed, after she, too, finally managed to examine them. “They’re all foxes! Carl, why are there so many dogs in the dungeon! And why aren’t they saying anything?”

I couldn’t get a good angle to examine the other two. One had a sword strapped to his back. The other had a chain with a curved blade. They deliberately kept their heads down.

“Do you want a beer?” Radoslav finally asked.

None moved.

“Foxes,” Donut muttered under her breath.

I felt a slight, strange tingle. Like a chill. Before the dungeon, it was something I’d ignore. But now, I felt alarmed. I blinked, jumping into my health tab to see if anything had changed. There was nothing. But something had just happened. It wasn’t an attack, but it had been something. I felt my hackles rise. I took a step back.

Chiyome made a clicking noise, and the two other ninjas started flipping away toward the portal out into the vendor village. They didn’t walk or run. They continued to flip. We all just stood there, watching them go, dumbfounded. Only when they hit the portal and disappeared did Chiyome put her nunchucks away. She stood to her full height, visibly relaxed, and bowed a second time. She reached up and pulled the red cowl back, revealing her fox face.

“I would love a beer,” she said.

~

“So What the heck was all that?” Donut asked, watching the way the other two foxes had gone.  Chiyome stood next to us guzzling down her second Busch Light. She’d opened the first and downed it in seconds. Without complaint, Radoslav handed her another. She nodded thanks and took it. Jasha remained passed out.

“What do you mean?” Chiyome asked, wiping her muzzle. She had a distinctly feminine, high-pitched voice, like one would expect from a fox.

“All the bouncy ninja stuff?” Donut said, waving her paw at the street. “You were being all weird, and then you were normal.”

“It was a team casting,” Chiyome said. “Form magic. A ritual for when you meet new opponents. It casts a spell called Size-Up on everyone in the area, so now we know your capabilities. Sorry not sorry.” She belched, crushed the beer can and held out her paw. Radoslav slapped another into it. “We know how strong of a warrior you are, honored Princess Donut.” She gave me a sidelong glance. “Even the weaker of your party is quite strong.”

I felt my eyes narrow. Was that the strange sensation I’d felt? The Size-Up spell? I knew it gave you all the stats of an opponent, but it wasn’t supposed to give the target any sort of indicator they’d been observed. My Mind Balance skill was now 16. Would that give me a warning? That didn’t feel right, but I’d also never heard of “Form Magic” before. I started to compose a message to Mordecai.  

“You sure drink a lot,” Donut said. “We know another dog guy. A hyena named Growler Gary who also drinks a lot.”

“Hyenas are closer in biology to cats than dogs,” Chiyome said. “Do you got anything harder than whatever this is?”

“That is slander!” Donut exclaimed.  

“Sorry. Just a magical cooler that has never-ending beer,” Radoslav said. “Came with our van. Only good thing about it.”  

“Wait, really?” I asked. I looked over my shoulder at our garage. We should have examined our truck more closely.  

 “That is a good bonus,” Chiyome said. “Onikuma only has a never-ending supply of fleas.” She belched and then looked at me.  

“I heard you saved these guys,” she said, indicating the two bugbears. “That’s...that’s pretty dumb, but it’s also honorable in a sort of adorable way. I can respect that, so I decided we’re not going to kill either of your teams. At least for the next two races. Look, we need to work together if we’re going to take care of those three.” She indicated the first three garages. One, two, and three. “Especially team number three. The Tigran and his girlfriend in spot one got lucky, and I don’t know what’s up with weirdos and the giant dog in second place, but the women with that car... They’re going to win this if we don’t do something now. They may not have won this heat, but they’re who we need to get next. I was hoping we could, you know, team up. If we work together, we can even the odds a bit. Then for the heat after that, we can take out the Tigran and his pig. But you must trust me on this, team three is the biggest threat.”  

As if she’d summoned them, the door to garage number three started to open.

“Who is it?” Donut asked.

“Womantaurs,” the fox said. “Two womantaurs and their half-mantaur gimp.”    

~~

Hey all! Hope you're doing well. There are a few rules retcons in here, but nothing too important. I'll have to go back and tighten up some of the earlier rules. I'm in the process of spoon-feeding the opponents and the setup still, but with the introduction of the Razor Foxes, I wanted to show there's going to be more than just straight races. There'll be strategy and alliances and betrayals, all with that "We can't let more than one team no finish" axe hanging over their heads.

Next chapter is already mostly written, but I wanted to get this out to you.

*************END SPOILERS

Just got back from Stoker Con in Connecticut. Great to see those of you how came out. Next event is Columbus Book Festival in July. Then Litrpg Con in Denver. Then San Diego Comic Con. They haven't yet announced the panels for San Diego yet, but we believe we're going to have a pretty cool DCC-themed panel happening. For all of these upcoming events, I'll be there the whole time.

In other news, this is releasing in a few days over at Soundbooth Theater dot com. I just listened to the proof, and it's amazing. I originally wrote this story in 2012, and it's a straight horror novel about a monster made out of people. It remains one of my favorite things I've written. There a few subtle shoutouts to this book in DCC in a few places. Cover art by Erik Wilson. Cover design by Toby Dinniman.