Book 8, Chapters 21 and 22. Title Announcement. NYCC info. (Patreon)

Dungeon Crawler Carl book 8 is officially going to be titled A Parade of Horribles: Dungeon Crawler Carl Book 8. It is slated for release on Tuesday, May 12, 2026. That release date is very tentative.

Patrons who read the following chapters will know where the title comes from.

I will be at NYCC this coming weekend! All the pre-reserved signings are already sold out, unfortunately, but the PRH booth, the Vault booth, and the webtoons booth events are still available. Schedule:

10/9

4:15 PM - 5:45 PM - SIGNING - Room 1A01*

10/10

11:30 AM - 1:00 PM - SIGNING - Room 1A01*

3:00 PM - 3:45 PM - SIGNING + ARC GIVEAWAY - PRH Booth #3021 Purchase of a DCC book at the PRH booth is required for entry. 100 tickets available. Each reader will receive an advance reader copy of OPERATION BOUNCE HOUSE when they arrive at the signing.

5:00 PM - 6:00 PM - SIGNING - WEBTOON Booth #2335 No purchase necessary. Line access is first come, first serve.

10/11

12:00 PM - 1:00 PM - PANEL - Spotlight on Matt Dinniman w/special guest Travis Baldree! - Room 1B02 Reservation is not required. Seats are available first come, first serve. No purchase necessary.

1:15 PM - 2:45 PM - SIGNING - Room 1A01*

5:30 PM - 6:30 PM - PANEL - Writing Workshop: Carving Out Your Niche - Level 4 River Pavilion: Pro Stage 2 A Pro badge is required to attend. Reservation is not required. Seating is first come, first serve.

10/12

11:00 AM - 12:30 PM - SIGNING - Room 1A01*

1:00 PM - 1:50 PM - SIGNING - Vault Comics Booth #4253 Guidelines coming soon!

*Reservation is required. Purchase of any DCC book at the Barnes & Noble booth is also required. Purchase receipts will be checked upon entry at the signing line. 100 tickets available.

ALSO. Thank you everyone who has backed the Crocodile Backerkit. I'm really excited for how it's turned out. I'm not a huge fan that we're going to have two crowdfunding campaigns at once, but I don't actually control the timing of either, unfortunately. But we have the books 2 and 3 campaign coming on October 14th, too! Sign up to get notified here.

Onto the chapters!

Chapter 21

We limped into the garage. We’d taken a direct hit from a massive hailstone right at the end there, and we almost got tossed off the road, despite Donut’s shield. The hailstone had obliterated the tommy gun. One of the spider legs had also broken, but we still managed to hobble our way over the finish line.

Bucket Boy sobbed with joy as we passed under the arch.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared,” he said once he knew the danger was past. “I thought for sure this was it.”

“You’re a Faction Wars veteran,” Donut said, though she said it kindly and not with a hint of derision. Almost distracted. “This was just a race. It’s okay. Other than the pouch incident, it was no big deal. Just another day.”

I turned to look down at Donut, who’d released Mongo into the truck. She sat on his back now that he was done barfing up frozen tater tots, French fries, and chicken patties everywhere.  

 Bucket Boy continued like he hadn’t heard her. I wasn’t certain if he was even talking to us or to himself. “I was so scared before, but I was helping people, not taking part in the fighting.” We clanked slowly across the road toward our garage, which had a giant 7 painted on it. That was the same number as last time, but now it represented the team that was at the very bottom. Bucket Boy’s voice was like a whisper. “That’s what Damascus said to me, when they kept me from the mercenary market. Anaconda didn’t think I’d pull my weight, but Damascus said people don’t need to be strong or front line to be useful. He said the helpers in the shadows are usually the most important ones.” He paused. “I’ve been through so much. I don’t know if I’m going to make it. I was so relieved when they took me in, but Astrid said it was probably temporary.” He muttered something I didn’t quite catch. The NPC was trembling with fear.

I took a moment to regard the young crocodilian. I thought of Herot, the author of the 16th edition of the cookbook. And there are some NPCs I simply don’t understand. Every day I learn something new about their nature, and every day I am convinced that there are more to them than even the showrunners know. That some of these implanted memories are more than they seem. If I am ever offered a deal, I pray it is one where I can examine this further. I pray that I can take this knowledge and use it to help end this madness.   

I started to ask the NPC what he meant with that Astrid comment, but I held back, remembering the fairy’s last moments when Katia and I had killed her. Part of me was afraid of the answer.

“After all that work, and we’re coming in last place,” Donut muttered, as if she was also changing the subject. “It’s not fair! And I barely got any experience for killing that thing!”

I’d been credited with doing 95% of the damage to Prison Pocket, and I’d leveled up three times to level 84.

Donut and I both received platinum boss boxes for the kill, plus I had half a dozen achievements.

Donut continued to rant. “And to make matters worse, you’re stuck in the body of that dead kangaroo. It smells, Carl. You know how sensitive I am to the smell of dead marsupials. And you know what it does to poor Mongo’s stomach.”

Mongo suddenly yacked up more frozen tater tots all over the place. A portion of them landed on my kangaroo feet.

“It’s okay, baby,” Donut said, patting the dinosaur’s head. “We’re almost there! Carl, look what that revolting costume of yours is doing to Mongo’s stomach!”

Now that we’d passed the finish line, I could properly examine the local map, though it worked weird in this spot between the finish line and our garage. This floor was utilizing a lot of interstitial spaces.  We’d stopped and grabbed the persistent loot dropped by the province boss, which was a map that showed hidden locations on the entire floor. There was nothing here in this small area. If we had time, and once I was out of this damn suit, we were going to go exploring in Hungry Eyes.

From what I was hearing on the feed, we’d been unlucky with our race. Most of the bosses blocking the roads in the other races had been city bosses. The only other province boss was the one Zhang, Li Na, and Tran had faced. Luckily they had all made it through, and the single eliminated team was one of the NPC teams.

I wondered on that. I suspected we had the tougher bosses because of Donut and Li Na’s higher levels.

I had not received a notification that the boss I’d killed was a “special guest mob” or whatever it was called. I wasn’t certain why. From the messages, it seemed it was a mix. About half the bosses others faced were and half weren’t.   

The news wasn’t all good. Both Elle and Imani’s team and Louis, Britney, and Bautista’s team had lost two teams, meaning for the next heat, they were all in danger of having to face off against other crawlers.

We had our own problems. We wouldn’t be able to pick our own upgrade because we’d come in last place, and I just knew it was going to be something awful. Even though the general public seemed to be on our side, I knew from experience, trolls almost always won when it came to audience votes. We’d find out shortly what they chose for us.

The door rumbled up, revealing a garage with a small crowd waiting for us. Hedy stood there impatiently with her arms crossed. Also in the garage were Splash Zone, Dong Quixote, Jamal the hammerhead shark, Samantha, and Bigs the sluggalette.  

“Oh thank the gods,” Bucket Boy said as we clanked to a stop. “Thank the gods.” He was still trembling. I had the urge to reach over and give the poor kid a hug.  

Dr. Metcalf the gps beeped just as we settled.

Limited details on the next race are now available.

Distance: 30 kilometers.

Distance to next rest area or refueling pit stop: This heat does not have any pit stops.

Track: wide, asphalt-paved road. The entirety of this race will be at a steep decline.

There is one path to this race.   

Tasks required to complete: Survive.

Special Rules: You will be sharing the racetrack with waves of generated mobs.

Environment: You will be racing at night. The track will be lit by lights.   

Hazards: I don’t yet know what “waves of generated mobs” means, but based on our performance for this race, plus the fact Captain Kangaroo here is still going to be stuck in his Halloween costume for this one, I would say we are our own worst enemies. I would suggest we get a weapons upgrade to protect ourselves, especially since the time limit is so short.

Oh wait, we came in last place. We don’t get to choose our upgrade. Maybe we can stop the mobs with dinosaur vomit.

I hate you all.     

Time Limit: 20 minutes.

The next race starts in 8 hours.

I groaned. Eight hours? I was stuck in this goddamned kangaroo costume for another ten. And I really had to pee, too.

“Carl, are you going to be able to use the pedals in that thing?” Donut asked.

“Uh,” I said, looking down at the massive feet of the joey corpse.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Donut said. “Do you think we can saw through it?”

“I doubt it,” I said. “Equipped clothes tend to be weirdly indestructible.”

“I suppose I’ll have to drive for this one, then. Or we can get someone like Splashy to do it.”  

“Thirty kilometers in 20 minutes is going to be tough,” I said, re-reading the information. “Even if it’s downhill. If we get another flat tire, we’re screwed.”

“We’ll have to take out another team right away,” Donut said. “Do you think we should keep talking to the foxes and the bugbears?”  

“Yes,” I said. “We don’t trust anybody, but it’s in all of our best interests to take out the top teams.”

“But they’re the top teams now,” she said. “I think the Pontiff guy was right when he said we need to be worried about the foxes. Though one of them did die.”  

“One race at a time,” I said. “Something tells me the biological mounts are going to have a tough time with this next one.”

“What the hecks did you do to my girl,” Hedy said, walking up, shaking her gremlin head. “You put her through the wringer, you did. And last place, too?” Her tablet beeped, and she looked at it, frowning. “Well, your upgrade vote just ended.” She sighed. “It could be worse, I’m supposing.”

I had the distinctive feeling like I was forgetting something as I stepped out of the truck. Even here, I couldn’t walk and had to make little hops.

“What did they vote for?” I asked, girding myself. I pulled Rend out, and he appeared next to me.

The meatball looked me up and down a gave me a giggle that seemed to say, what the hell are you wearing? He turned to the truck and tried to get himself in through the passenger door, but he couldn’t fit. Mongo screeched at him from the inside. The dino was already back in the freezer and had an entire bag of frozen chicken patties in his mouth. Rend started squeal giggling.

“Mongo, no!” Donut shouted as Rend scuttled around toward the back of the truck. He’d still fit through the back door, but it was closed.  

“We once had a dancer who would wear animal skins,” Dong said, looking me up and down. “Remember him, Splash?”

“Beast A’la Mode,” Splash Zone said. “I remember. Died of E and D coli after they opened up that salad bar over at Bitches.”

“Oh yes, yes. That’s right. Quite sad,” Dong said. “We warned him. They had the lettuce too close to the stage.”  

“Yeah, what is this?” Hedy asked, looking my kangaroo costume up and down. She reached over to touch my leg. “Gotta say. This has just about ruined my lady boner for you, boss. I’m not into this roleplay stuff.”  

“Oh, I am,” Samantha said, rolling around me, snuffling. “Rawr. I love it when a man wears the skin of his vanquished enemies. Think we can get an ogre corpse for Louis to wear? Can you imagine how sexy that would be? Carl, when can I take your truck for a spin?”

“I think it looks sick,” Bigs added, sliming up to sniff at my feet. She left a trail of orange goo on the garage floor.  

“It’s only temporary,” I said, getting frustrated. “Hedy, what did the audience choose for the upgrade vote?”   

Behind me, Donut shrieked again. “Rend, how did you even get up here! Mongo, no more tater tots!”   

The gremlin gave a little sigh. “Look at it this way. Princess Donut will be much more protected during the next race.”

Donut: I JUST REMEMBERED SOMETHING. WE SHOULD PROBABLY TELL BUCKET BOY NOT TO...

“Dong! I saw Corcunda!” Bucket Boy shouted as he jumped out of the truck. “Pontiff was there, too!”

Chapter 22

“Oh shit,” Splash Zone said. “Was it Corky or Porky?”  

“My Corcunda?” Dong asked. He rushed up and grabbed Bucket Boy and started shaking the young Crocodilian. “The left side? Are you sure?”

Donut popped her head out of the truck. “Corky or Porky?”

“There’s two of them,” Splash Zone said. “Both named Corcunda. Corky was a stripper and was Dong’s partner. Porky was working in a guild last I heard. And Pontiff was there? I hope you ran over that bull prick with the truck. He used to make fun of Snail Trail.”

“It’s him,” Bucket Boy said. “Corky. He’s on another team. The one with the weird ladies. The announcement said they came in fifth place, so he’s in the garage two doors over with the five on it. They had him drugged, I think. I called out to him, but he didn’t wake up. Pontiff was on a different team. The one that slashed our tires.”

“Goddamnit,” I muttered. This was exactly what I wanted to avoid. It wasn’t that I wanted to keep Dong from his friend, but now it was going to be a huge complication. With so much happening, it never even occurred to me to tell Bucket Boy not to say anything. Stupid.  

I tried to step back, and I stumbled. I had to do a little hop.

Dong was shooting rapid-fire questions at the crocodilian who didn’t have answers.

“Who is Corcunda?” Samantha asked. She was still rolling in circles around me, deliberately rolling over the giant feet, which would cause her to bounce in the air. Each time she shouted, “Speed bump!” and made an explosion noise with her mouth when she landed.  

Dong rushed over to the chain of the now-closed garage door and started to pull on it.  

“Dong, wait,” I called.

“I shall not wait,” Dong shouted as the garage door started to rise. “Would you wait, Carl, if you knew the most beautiful man to have ever lived, your best friend of all eternity, your partner, your most loyal steed, was right there on the other side? And it sounds like he needs me. I have been waiting for much too long, and I shall wait no more!”

“Steed?” Hedy asked. “What the hells does that mean?”

“Most beautiful man to have ever lived?” Samantha asked, zipping toward the open garage door. “I wanna see this guy, too.” Before I could protest further, she was already outside. Bigs slimed after her, shouting.   

 “Carl, we better go out there,” Donut said, leaping from the truck and onto my shoulder. “If he gets into that other garage, those ladies might try to hurt him.”

It was true. The saferoom rules didn’t apply to garages. But they’d have to first get in there.  

Generated gremlins were suddenly everywhere, crawling over the truck. Mongo and Rend were still inside. One of the gremlins standing on the roof pointed at me and whispered something to another. That second gremlin gibbered something and threw a wrench at my head, but it went wide. It clanked off one of Jamal’s spider legs. The hammerhead shark, who’d been uncharacteristically silent this whole time, let out a little shout.   

“Hey!” I called. The gremlin chittered back angrily at me, not actually saying anything. He flipped me off.

“What crinkled their panties?” Hedy asked, looking up.

“We used some of the Emergency Gremlin scrolls to distract the boss. A few got dipped in the pouch. A few got eaten,” Donut said. “I suppose word spreads fast. But how do they even know if they explode when it’s all done?”   

To my surprise, Hedy laughed. “Serves the little freaks right. Dontcha worry about that. They’ll still fix the truck true. Probably. I better double check their work extra good though. And I gotta supervise the installation of your new princess throne seat.”

Donut gasped. “Princess throne? What’s that?”  

“Seat?” I asked. “Is that what they voted for? A chair?”

“Uh, yeah, sort of.”

“Yooooohoo!” came Samantha’s shout from outside. Dong hadn’t even run out yet as he was still securing the door chain. “Open up. We want to see the beautiful man you got in there!”

“Goddamnit, Samantha,” I said, moving toward the door. I, once again, fell right on my face. Donut yowled and jumped off and then rushed outside. Dong also rushed outside, followed quickly by Splash Zone and Bucket Boy. Mongo jumped from the back of the truck, let out a screech and followed Donut. I could hear Rend giggling and grunting, still inside.

Across the way through the open garage door, I could see Jasha and Radoslav were already in their driveway at spot number three, watching the crowd of people streaming from our spot. Both stood there with beers in their claws. Faint music wafted.    

Hedy moved into the truck and started yelling something at the gremlins on the roof.

I remained on the ground, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. I rolled onto my back, looking up at the ceiling of the garage. Underneath me, the tail of the kangaroo costume felt unwieldy.  

There was blood up there, on the tall ceiling. It was from when that first gremlin had exploded. I couldn’t even remember what his name had been.  

We’d come in last place. If that other team hadn’t been killed, we’d be dead right now. No fuss. No epic fight. We’d just be gone.

We’d been the ones to solve the problem with the boss, and it had come at a terrible price. We were so much stronger now, but that didn’t matter. I didn’t like this. So far, everyone had survived. But I knew it was only a matter of time.

Earlier, I’d felt such relief that I was no longer responsible for the lives of so many. But now that was replaced with this terrible realization that I was barely responsible for myself now, too. It made me feel helpless in a way I hadn’t felt since the beginning of the dungeon. Like I was regressing, losing ground.

It reminded me, strangely, of that day my father had smashed the fish tank with his motorcycle helmet. That day all my mollies had died, despite me doing everything I could to keep them alive.

There was a way to guarantee survival. We had to be more proactive. We could do that. But it would most likely be at the cost of other crawlers, and it was a path I was loath to even consider.

Li Na and Zhang were in the same group as Tran. And I just knew we were going to get more of these matches soon. It was too much.  

Faction Wars had been such chaos, but despite all that, I’d always felt like I was in a little bit of control. Just a little bit. That had been large scale war, and it was so different than this.

At least, I thought, things were a bit more simple. I wondered how long that would last.  

Zev: Hi guys! I’m about to do a dungeon announcement, so I can’t talk for long, but we’re still, uh, required to do media appearances. We’ve been negotiating with the AI, and we’ve come to an agreement. You two are going to go on a show in a few hours.

Donut: HI ZEV!

Carl: In a few hours? You mean before the next race? We’re very busy, Zev. We have like seven and a half hours.

Zev: I know, Carl. Every surviving crawler team will be required to do at least one show between races. It won’t take more than two hours.   

Donut: CARL WILL STILL BE STUCK IN HIS KANGAROO OUTFIT. IT SMELLS FUNNY, ZEV.

Zev: Yeah, I know. I think that’s why they’re making it happen now.

Donut: WHAT’S THE SHOW?

Zev: It’s one you haven’t been on before, but you may have heard of it. It’s called Plenty of Plenty. Gotta go guys. Cascadia is...not feeling well, and I’m required to do the announcement. I’m about to announce how the 11th floor is going to work. I don’t even know what it is as it’s not even close to what we originally designed. The AI is making me read a script.

Donut: OKAY YOU BETTER DO WHAT IT SAYS. BYE ZEV!   

I remained on the floor. Clank, clank, clank. Jamal appeared above me, looking down.

“My goodness, Mr. Carl. It appears you have fallen. Would you like Jamal to help you up? How far can you hop with those feet?”

I was about to answer when Rend was suddenly there too, looking down. He let out a giggle and then barfed frozen chicken all over my face.

~

I stood in the open door to our garage as I finished cleaning the vomit off myself, keeping a wary eye on the chaos out in the cul-de-sac. Dong, Bucket Boy, and Splash Zone remained on the driveway of the Lady Dominators two spots over, banging on the closed garage door. Donut, Mongo, Samantha, and Bigs had moved away and were with the two bugbears, watching. Jasha poured some beer on the ground and Bigs was lapping it up.

I sent Prepotente a note asking him to tell me more about this show, Plenty of Plenty. I knew he’d appeared on it multiple times, and from what I understood, the show just involved him screaming at the weird, alien goats and them screaming back. All he said was that they were “delightful.”  

Chiyome had briefly appeared with the other remaining razor fox, but they quickly disappeared into Hungry Eyes. None of the other garage doors had opened.

I spent some time examining the two, empty houses in the cul-de-sac, which represented the two defeated teams. The notification still said we could get keys to enter the houses after the fourth heat. Now with my map upgrade, I could see both houses contained hidden treasure rooms.    

I needed to go open my boxes and achievements, but I wanted to get into Hungry Eyes and see if there were any mercenaries still left. We didn’t have much time. We needed to stock up for this next race.

And more importantly, we couldn’t just survive. We had to come in first place. It was our best chance at survival. This would be the last race with a guaranteed paved road. That didn’t mean we wouldn’t be able to use our tires, but I just knew the tracks would get more and more insane after this.

Both Prepotente/Jurgen and Imani/Elle’s teams had come in first place, and I was hearing about some of the amazing upgrades they had picked. Prepotente had gone with a golden Sheol horseshoes upgrade which allowed his tapir thing to float on a biological-only cushion of fire, which would give the creature great speed, and it also acted as both a shield and as a point defense weapon against smaller mobs.

Elle and Imani went with a group of three regular upgrades for their large, multi-wheeled military APV. They picked a speed upgrade for the wheels, the same spider legs we had, and an electrified shield that I was pretty sure was the same thing team One Fine Pig had on their truck.

Florin and Lucia had come in third in their heat. To everybody’s relief, the personality in charge of Lucia was someone who actually knew how to drive as their hired mercenary had gotten sniped right at the start of their race. They’d picked some sort of offensive shield for their small, motorized tuk-tuk.

Louis, Britney, and Bautista had come in fourth. I wasn’t sure what their upgrade was, but I had the impression it was a difficult race. They’d lost two teams, and it had been close for most of the others.

We had a few reports of entire heats where all the teams had been zeroed out.  

Across the way, the two bugbears laughed as they poured beer into Rend’s waiting mouth. Mongo shrieked and waved his wings, wanting a go. Donut was shouting something at the howling bugbears, yelling at Mongo to stay back.

From behind, Hedy let out a shout. “Oi, get away from him! Get back to work!”

I felt a tug at my waist. I looked down, and one of the generated gremlins had left the truck and was standing there next to me. The thing had a massive wrench in his hand. I was about to hop back as I was expecting the thing to attempt to kneecap me. Instead he handed me a note before chittering and running back to the truck.

The paper was weirdly warm. And a little damp. I started to awkwardly unfold it, using the kangaroo paws of my costume, when I realized with a start that I could feel the wetness of the paper, meaning I had sensitivity with the costume paws. It was such a bizarre revelation that I stopped to stare at the pads of my hands for several seconds.

Weird.

Before I could unfold the note, the dungeon loudspeaker crackled, and Zev’s voice called out.  

Hello, Crawlers.

Over the loudspeakers I could hear the distinctive bubbling noise I sometimes heard over Cascadia’s announcements. Zev whispered, “I’m doing it. I’m going to read it exactly like you say.” She cleared her throat.

Sorry. Good day, Crawlers. Great race everyone.

The AI would especially like to commend crawlers Jurgen for his amazing bare-handed kill, Osvaldo for the stunning sacrifice of his hired mercenary, Chan-woo for the pleasantly disgusting ladybug thing, and Carl for satiating yet another unbirthing fantasy.  

As we prepare for the third heat, I, Zev. Sorry, sorry. I, mudskipper Zev, have been tasked with explaining to everybody what is happening with some of the mobs and bosses on this floor. As you may know, when you kill some mobs, there is a note that indicates them as “special guest creatures” and once they’ve been dispatched, you may choose whether or not to take experience or allow the audience to vote.

These are mobs that have been brought to the dungeon by me. Not me, Zev. I think the AI means itself. I didn’t design anything.

Sorry. They are mobs who were created for other purposes and were just thrown away, never used in previous iterations and have been in the cold for some time now. They are now being allowed to fulfill their purpose. Do you know how much waste there is? I think I’ve used this metaphor before somewhere, but it’s akin to a single photon of light that travels for literally billions of years, only to smack right into the unobserved butthole of a dead, bloated gazelle on the plains of the Serengeti.

“That’s like a weirdly specific analogy,” Zev muttered. She cleared her throat again.   

If you choose vote, the home audience is given a choice. They may choose to send the creature to the 11th floor or they may choose to bring a stand-in to the 11th floor. They will know who the stand-in is before they vote. Just about 80% of the votes have favored the stand-in.

All the stand-in choices have so far been from...

There was a pause. Zev hiss-whispered. “There’s an asterisk symbol. How the heck am I supposed to read that?”

She sighed.

All the stand-in choices so-far, asterisk symbol, have been from those who’ve locked themselves in their rumbly rooms on the 18th floor, which we are not talking about yet because we want to keep the suspense.

However, there is one enterprising half-elf who actually managed to beat the backstage death maze on the 17th floor and make it down to the 16th. Yes, it took her 11 tries, but you should probably watch out for that one.

So, anyway, this is where we’re at. Uh, this is where we’re at, bitches. You know the rules of this tenth floor. Nothing has changed with that. But what is this mysterious 11th floor?

There was a trumpet fanfare noise that startled me. I wasn’t the only one.

“What the hells was that?” Zev whispered. I was pretty sure she didn’t realize her whispers were being broadcast. “How am I ruining it? I’m doing what you ask, but if you scare me, I’m going to react. I’m doing my best. Okay, okay.”

The 11th floor is called A Parade of Horribles. I know, I know, cool, right? But what is it, exactly?

It’s a parade. It’s a celebration. It’s a play. It is a coming out party of sorts, but we’ll get to that later. Think of it as a love letter to both our ancestors and its current citizens, all of whom I’m sure will be glued to their screens watching what they have wrought.

But as far as you’re concerned, crawlers, think of it as an extension of this floor. All surviving crawlers will work together on the 11th. They will combine their forces and fight their way through all the enemies. The stand-ins will be there, too, and it’ll be up to you to decide what to do with them. Right now, each stand-in is given the power and spells of the monster they’re standing in for. Believe me, it’s making for some seriously wild combos.

Here’s the problem. We all have our limitations. I must admit, I want this 11th floor to happen. And as a direct result of that, the built in protections don’t want it to happen. So this 10th floor can be a little tricky. You gotta survive. Nothing I can do about that except follow the rules.  

Also, normally, these floors have their weird policies about time limits. When it comes to what we can and can’t change about the nature of the crawl itself, luckily there are some loopholes. I see you, Emperator of the Valtay fleet and your system-busting bomb, who just entered through the tunnel gate. Do you really think I’d allow that to just happen? I make no apologies about where that giant suicide bomb just ended up.

Anyway, this 11th floor is designed to go quick thanks to a few of those aforementioned loopholes. When it’s done, if any of you are left alive, you crawlers may attempt to reunite yourself with your friends on the 12th floor and continue the good fight. Plus there’s another, completely minor and barely worth mentioning issue with some of the gods I might need some help with. But I’ll get to that later.

As for this tenth floor, we’re still doing this. Don’t think we’re gonna go easy on you. Honestly, there’s still way too many of you around for what I got planned for the 11th. So let the culling begin! Wait, wait, here’s my favorite part.

“There’s nothing more here,” Zev whispered. There was a pause. “What do you mean?”

The loudspeaker crackled.

“Leave me alone,” a new voice said. “Why won’t you let me die?”

Cascadia.

“Say what? What catchphrase? Fuck you.”

This was followed by the pained screaming of Cascadia. It abruptly cut off.

“What the fuck?” I muttered.

Zev’s voice popped back on.

The AI wants you to know Cascadia is still alive, but she has lost some... oh my gods. She has lost a few flippers. Next time she’ll say her catchphrase like a good little mudskipper. In the meantime, I gotta say it. Uh, get out there and kill, kill, kill.   

The loudspeaker cut off again.

Donut: ZEV ARE YOU OKAY?

Zev: Can’t talk now, Donut. But I’m okay. I’m okay.

Jesus fucking Christ, I thought, just breathing. I cursed myself for thinking everything had gotten more simple.

My attention returned to the paper still clutched in my costumed hand. I hesitantly peeled it open.

The paper itself appeared to be an old, blank invoice for the place called C&W&U. I remembered seeing it in Hungry Eyes. The paper was a similar invoice as the ones we used in the shop for boat repair. The line under the shop name read “Shop opens after the third heat” and under that, in smaller letters, it read, “You get what you pay for.”

Underneath that, it was a crude drawing. It showed a stick figure woman showing her poorly-drawn breasts to a group of cheering, stick figure gremlins. There was a note that said “Your mom” with an arrow toward the woman.

I looked up, and the gremlins on our truck burst into laughter as Hedy continued to yell at them.

I was about to crumple the note up when my Escape Plan skill tingled. This was the same skill that allowed me to read the cookbook along with dungeon signs for mobs. I hadn’t had it activate in the wild in a while.

What the hell? I blinked as the words formed.   

Don’t tell anyone about this note. You need to kill two teams next heat, not one. Come visit us when we open after the next race, and I’ll explain why. Ask for the top shelf upgrades so you’re led to the back. We don’t have to be enemies, Carl. We want the same thing. I can smuggle friends to the Pineapple Cabaret. We can escape this chaos. All of us.  

Akuma.

~~

Thank you all for your continued support! We are about to kick off the insanity. It's gonna go quick.