Chapter 144. Welcome to the Hunt. (Patreon)

Time to Level Collapse: 17 Days.
Time Until the Hunt Begins: 30 Hours.

Views: 512 sextillion
Followers: 142 Quadrillion
Favorites: 23 Quadrillion

Leaderboard rank: 1

Bounty: 3,000,000 gold

Congrats, Crawler. You have received a Platinum Venison Box.

Welcome, Crawler to the sixth floor. “The Hunting Grounds”
Sponsorship bidding initiated on Crawler #4,122. Bidding ends in 45 hours.

Remaining Crawlers: 85,223

Remaining Hunters: 360

Grace Period begins now. All hunters have been transferred to the city of Zockau. They will be released in 30 hours.

Entering the Desperado Club.

I came into existence in a now-familiar office. The hooded figure of Orren, the grim reaper-like Syndicate liaison sat at his cluttered desk, staring at me, hands steepled in front of him. I caught glint of the glass under his hood. I knew there was a parasitic worm floating in there. A type of creature called a gondii, but better known to the universe as the Valtay.

The last time I was in this room was after I’d killed Loita the administrator. This guy was supposedly a neutral third-party observer and fact finder, but based on recent evidence, I knew some of these liaison guys played a little hard and fast with the term, “neutral.”

Katia also sat in the room. It appeared she’d been here for a few minutes already, and she looked bored. She was in her regular form. She looked at me and grinned, though I could see the worry in her eyes.

Donut: CARL, CARL, WHERE ARE YOU? WE DIDN’T COME IN TOGETHER! IT’S JUST ME, CHRIS, AND MONGO. WHERE ARE YOU! WHERE’S KATIA?

Carl: It’s okay. She’s with me. We’re back in the vice principal’s office.

Donut: WHAT DOES THAT MEAN? I NEED TO PICK A NEW CLASS!

“Tell your companions you’ll be joining them shortly,” Orren said. “This won’t take long.”

Carl: Have Mordecai help you pick a class. I’ll be there in a bit.

Donut: I DON’T LIKE THIS, CARL. WE’RE IN A LONG LINE WITH A BUNCH OF OTHER CRAWLERS, AND MONGO IS SCARED.

Carl: Donut, everything is fine. I’m about to get a talking-to by the liaison guy with the fishbowl head. Put Mongo away, talk to Mordecai, and then make sure you get everybody near you into your chat.

“As I already told your friend, you can only see and hear me, but there are multiple entities in on this meeting,” Orren said. “We have a representative from Borant, a few members of the Syndicate Crawl subcommittee, and a few additional interested parties listening in. In addition, there is a designated media representative. The media rep will not be permitted to report on anything that occurs in this meeting unless a law is broken.”

“Wow,” I said, turning to Katia, who suddenly had a sour look on her face. “All of this for us?”

She was about to say something, but the liaison interrupted her.

“Actually, it’s all for you,” Orren said. “Crawler Katia Grim is only here because she’s the one who had it in her inventory. We asked her if she considered herself the owner of the item, and she claimed you are the true owner. She will return to the Staging Area now.”

“Wait,” she began, but she popped away with an audible crack.

Carl: Are you okay?

Katia: Other than a headache, I’m okay. Carl, I think I accidentally got you into trouble. I didn’t know what to say. They took the gate from me. I’m sorry. There was nothing I could do.

Carl: It’s okay. See if you can find Donut.

Katia: I see her. She’s chasing after Mongo. Be careful.

Orren waved his hand, and three items appeared on the desk in front of him. The two watches and the winding box, the three pieces to the Gate of the Feral Gods.

“Do you remember what I said the last time you were in here?” Orren asked. He reached forward and picked up one of the watches, idly spinning it in his hand.

I sighed. I was exhausted. There was so much to do, and a part of me would welcome it if they just decided to get it over with and squish me. I shrugged. “I don’t really remember.”

“I said if it were up to me, I’d have you removed. At the time, the kua-tin wanted to keep you, and the Syndicate council was indifferent. After this last little stunt, nobody is indifferent anymore.” He put the watch down, closer to the edge of the desk. “The Dreadnoughts have up and abandoned their stake in faction wars. You wiped out the entirety of their army. The war chief’s wife got stung by one of those pain amplifier jellyfish, and the chief himself had to kill her in order to stop the pain. She’s recovering now in a sedative yacht. But they’ve given up, and now there’s an open spot, one that nobody can take because they won’t be able to field an army.” He just looked at me, as if waiting for a reaction.

The Dreadnoughts were large, humanoid creatures with red skin. They rarely did well in faction wars because their preferred method of fighting was to just hit everything in front of them, tactics and magic be damned.

“Good,” I finally said. “That was pretty much the plan. To fuck up all the armies.” I looked up at the ceiling. “You guys gave me the ability to do it. I’m just playing the game.”

He nodded. He jotted something on a piece of paper. “Borant didn’t intervene because they thought you were going to attempt a different type of attack. And they assumed you’d lose access to the artifact after.”

I eyed the three items on the desk. If I so much as bumped the desk, the first watch would fall into my lap. “And that’s my fault?”

“It’s not. They are upset, but,” he turned in his chair to look to his left, raising his voice, “you likely made them more money than they lost.” He paused. “That said, we now have a problem. A problem with no easy solution. The council and the showrunners need your help.”

I felt my eyebrow raise. “My help?”

“We can’t forcibly take the gate from you. Despite what you might think, there are rules about the treatment of crawlers. At least in regards to their inventory items. Patching certain artifacts requires cooperation across all involved entities, and we do not have a consensus.”

I bit my lip.

Orren continued. “The system will not allow us to confiscate it from you.” That was interesting, considering they’d already taken it. “Borant wishes for you to remain in the game,” he again raised his voice, “despite the danger you pose to their tenuous hold on solvency. However, we simply cannot allow you to keep the Gate of the Feral Gods. We are asking for you to voluntarily give it up.”

“Is that a joke? What is this? You’ve already taken it.” I took a deep breath. My instinct was to reach out and pick up the items from the desk. I thought of the journalist. They wanted a witness. This felt like a trap. I kept my hands at my side. I scooted my chair back an inch.

He chuckled. “When the item was first generated into the game by the system AI, do you know what happened? It set off a chain reaction of checks and balance subroutines so extensive, it crashed the entire system. The AI created the item in such a fashion that it circumvented its own rules.”

“Yeah, so?”

“That item has the ability to kill everyone on the floor. You can open a hundred portals and turn the floor into a wasteland in less than an hour.”

Donut: I GOT THE WORLD’S GREATEST CLASS FOR THIS FLOOR. KATIA IS BACK IN LINE WITH US.

I waved away the chat and waited for Orren to continue.

“Nobody expected you to get the item. There are rules in place we all must follow, so we can’t remove it. We can, however, remove you. We must protect the integrity of the game. That leaves us with three options.” He held up a finger. “One, I could create an order that would encase the floor in a protection spell that would remove all crawler access to portals. That would remove access to all personal spaces and clubs and break thousands of other little things. Teleport scrolls would cease to work. Certain movement spells wouldn’t work. Your pet’s carrier would no longer function. It would be chaos, and it would kill thousands.”

He raised another finger. “Two. We accelerate you, which will result in your death, along with the death of anyone near you.”

He let that sink in for a moment, and then he raised a third finger. “Or three, you turn the winding box in, I give you a receipt, and you get it back the moment you reach the ninth floor.”

I didn’t answer for several moments. My mind raced. Goddamnit. I needed that gate. How could I keep my promise to Juice Box without it?

I needed time to think. “Why was there a liaison helping Maggie cheat?” I asked. I looked up at the ceiling. I had no idea if he was telling the truth about the reporter, but if he was, they were the most important person here right now. “Maggie and Chris kept getting censored. They said it was a caprid. The creature was obviously working with the Skull empire.”

Orren’s chair creaked. The watch wobbled. In the momentary silence, I could hear the distant boom of the dance floor. “Everyone here is aware of which you speak. There’s an answer to that question. You’re not allowed to hear it. But I’m glad you asked, because it’s an important lesson. Exploits can work both ways. The forces working against you have had a lot more time to learn how to manipulate the system. Rest assured that particular issue has been dealt with in the same manner and swiftness as the one before us now. What’s your choice? Will you hand the artifact over?”

“I want a lawyer,” I said. “I’m not touching those things until I talk to one.”

He grunted with amusement. I could tell, despite his mostly-serious demeanor, he was enjoying this exchange. He looked back over his own shoulder to look at the blank wall. “I told you. What did I say?” He returned his fishbowl head in my direction. “You just said the magic words, crawler.”

~

Entering the Staging Area.

I was hoping we’d teleport to our personal space, and Mordecai would be the one who walked us through specialization. That’s not what happened. This was like a football stadium, with a high ceiling and distant walls. It appeared every crawler entered into this room here or a place like this, waited in line, and then was forced to undergo specialization class selection. From what I gathered, everybody had to go through the line, even those whose classes didn’t have the option to specialize.

By the time I arrived, the room was almost empty. Maybe three or four hundred crawlers remained, all on the far side of the room. I started walking toward them. I’d been in Orren’s office for about an hour and a half, so not too long, but it appeared whatever this was, it was going by quickly.

Carl: I’m in the giant arena place. Where are you guys?

Katia: Are you okay? What happened?

Carl: I’m okay. We lost part of the gate, but not permanently. It’s a long story.

Donut: WE’RE ALREADY DONE. YOU HAVE TO GO THROUGH THE SMELLY LITTLE ROOM, AND THEN YOU COME BACK OUT. EVERYONE IS GETTING SCATTERED, BUT ALL THE PARTY MEMBERS ARE COMING OUT IN THE SAME PLACE. ALSO, WAIT UNTIL YOU SEE WHAT MORDECAI LOOKS LIKE.

Katia: This world is similar to the third floor but with a lot more trees. You should come out just outside a medium dryad settlement. Find a pub called Der Kirschbomben.

Carl: Did you guys get class upgrades?

Katia: I got something. It didn’t change my Monster Truck Driver class name, but I could pick one of three “endorsements.” They only give you ten minutes to pick, and you can’t use chat while you’re in the little room. I got the HAZMAT endorsement.

Donut: THEY SAID I COULD PERMANENTLY PICK ANY CLASS I ALREADY HAD, BUT MORDECAI SAID THAT MIGHT HAPPEN AND TOLD ME NOT TO DO IT. SO I DIDN’T. BUT IT’S OKAY BECAUSE I ALREADY GOT A NEW CLASS JUST FOR THIS FLOOR, AND IT IS GREAT.

Carl: What did you get?

Donut: I’LL TELL YOU BUT ONLY IF YOU PROMISE NOT TO GET MAD. KATIA SAYS YOU’RE GOING TO BE MAD.

Carl: Donut. What did you pick?

Donut: I’M A BARD! ISN’T IT GREAT! IT’S NOT A NECROBARD LIKE THEY OFFERED ME BEFORE, BUT IT’S BETTER. I’M A LEGENDARY DIVA. THAT’S WHAT THE CLASS IS CALLED. LEGENDARY DIVA. I SING!

Carl: You sing.

Donut: I SING SONGS AND THEY CAST SPELLS. I GOT A BUNCH OF THEM. I’M PRACTICING ALREADY. MONGO LOVES THEM AND THE TREE GUY AT THE PUB SAID I CAN HAVE A GIG FOR THE LUNCH SHIFT TOMORROW.

Katia: He said you could sing after the lunch shift.

Donut: DON’T RUIN IT, KATIA.

I took a long, deep breath.

Carl: Okay, I’ll see you in a bit.

Velvet, crowd-control ropes snaked back and forth, attached to little brass poles, like in a line to get through security at the airport. Hundreds of entrances dotted the far wall, and as I watched, the remaining crawlers all walked, one-by-one into individual rooms and disappeared.

I picked one of the barrier things up and tried to add it to my inventory.

Warning: You may not use your inventory in this area.

I grumbled and then walked around the rope, pushing my way to the very end of the line.

Carl: Mordecai, please tell me the bard thing is a good class.

Mordecai: It’s great, in theory. It comes with multiple spells and a new spell system, and if she practices enough, she’ll keep it. She managed to keep her buffed Hole, Magic Missile, and Puddle Jumper skills thanks to her Glass Cannon class last floor. This new class gave her a handful of enchantment spells and a decent constitution buff. Her Character Actor skill is level six now, and she received all of the starting skills of the Legendary Diva class plus a few upgraded ones. That skill is going to be a real asset from now on. Just be glad she didn’t choose it as her permanent class.

Carl: She has to sing? Have you heard her sing yet?

Mordecai: Everyone has heard her singing.

Carl: Oh god.

By the time I arrived to the front of the line, there were only a handful of crawlers left. None were ones I’d met before. I exchanged fist bumps with them all. The second to last was a human named Ajib. His level-29 seemed pitiful compared to my level 47. His class was something called a Prodromoi, which I gathered was some sort of a dexterity-themed fighter. He hopped forward in line, and I realized he was missing the bottom half of his left leg.

“I had to jump through the portal just as the floor collapsed,” he said. “But we did it. We popped our bubble at the end.”

“I’ll build you a prosthetic if you need it,” I said.

“My team is already on it, but thank you,” the man said before hopping forward and disappearing into one of the rooms.

A group of NPCs, a mix of crocodilians, cretins, and robed elves were waving people toward little doorways against the far wall. There were hundreds of the workers, but they were mostly standing around idle by the time I got to the front of the line. I was the very last crawler.

“Pick any one. They’re all the same,” one of the elves said.

I strolled toward a door near the end of the row. I examined it as I approached, and it was just a regular portal. I took a quick screenshot, and it appeared to be an airplane bathroom-sized room with a screen on the wall. It looked almost like one of those peep-show room booths.

I was about to enter when the announcement came. I paused.

Hello, Crawlers!

Welcome to the sixth floor! We are so happy to have you here!

Like the third floor, this sixth floor is a Dungeon Crawler World tradition!

It’s the hunting grounds! This floor is almost identical in layout and size to the third floor, but the abandoned ruins have been claimed by hundreds of years of foliage. What secrets and mysteries lay hidden in the jungle? You’ll have 17 days to find out! But this time, you won’t be alone.

We currently have 360 hunters on deck, and they’re rearing to go. In a little less than 28 hours, they will be unleashed and will begin hunting you for your gear. Due to recent events, we are keeping registration open until the very last moment, and we expect that number of participants to double or even triple by the time they are released! But be warned! Some of these hunters have been here for weeks now, and even though they’re currently sequestered, their minions and traps are still out there and waiting for you. A few of you have already found this out the hard way!

Traditionally all hunters start out at level 30 and are able to train themselves up as you make your way through the lower floors. It’s no secret that you’re here sooner than usual. In the spirit of fairness and as an incentive to gain more last-minute participants, we have given all hunters a bump of 20 levels, so they all start out at 50.

We’ll have more information about the hunt after the next recap message, but I wanted to thank you all for your participation. I know that last floor was tough, and we did lose a few more crawlers than we anticipated. We will all have to work together to make sure your incompetence doesn’t continue.

There are 2,344 exits leading to the seventh floor. There are multiple unguarded exits in the city of Zockau along with more in the valley beyond. In addition, some city boss and larger mobs will have an exit nearby. The rest are hidden, but should be easy to find.

Your final sponsorship slots are now open to bidding. That’s all for now. Now get out there and kill, kill, kill!

While the announcement was going, the NPCs got to work cleaning up the room and shutting down the arena. A group of crocodilians started gathering up the velvet crowd control ropes. A cretin walked around with a broom and dustbin. A group of the elves started rolling up the red carpets. The sight seemed absurd.

A hooded elf approached as I listened. He was dragging an empty cart that would presumably be loaded up with the rugs. He paused to regard me as I listened to the message. I examined the man warily.

Ian – Bush Elf. Level 30.

Registration Arena Attendant.

This is a Non-Combatant NPC.

You know those perpetually-depressed, emo kids from high school who always sat on the floor during lunch? If they participated in extracurricular activities, it was always either drama, yearbook committee, or the dreaded anime club. They planned on changing the world with some bullshit cause. They all had jobs at the smoothie place. Then after high school, they just kinda got absorbed by the world, like pouring a dark drink into a rushing stream. You blinked, and they were just gone, along with all of their black hair dye and all of their dreams.

That is a Bush Elf. A once-proud people, almost physically indistinguishable from the ruling class High Elves, Bush Elves are the regular joes of the forest. If you look really close, you can see the wrinkles around their eyes, or the very slight hunch to their backs. A sign of their defeat. They tend to favor druid magic and jobs at places where they’re in cubicles.

Sometimes they remember how strong of a people they once were.

“Sir, we’re closing this area. You need to go into a changing room.”

“Sorry, just listening to the announcement.”

“No problem, sir. Good luck out there.”

“Thank you,” I said. “You too. Might want to keep your head down after today.”

The elf paused, regarding me. “You’re Carl, right? The one who bombed Larracos?”

“That’s right,” I said. “Word travels fast here.”

“I heard them talking about it. The other crawlers, I mean. They said you unleashed a feral god on the armies. They said you’re going to do it again on this floor.”

“I didn’t. That’s what they thought I was going to do. Instead, I helped flood the city of Larracos. I was going to throw a god at them in a few days, but they took my toy away.”

Ian nodded thoughtfully. The creature had a wistful look on his face. “They do that. If you gain a little bit of power, they take it away. Next time you need to use it while you can. Now you best get moving. If you go in the jungle, stay on the trail. Stay away from the city of Zockau, even after the countdown is done. It’s all the way to the north. That’s where the aliens are. They don’t fight fair, so be careful. Last hunting season, one of them killed my brother for no reason. Was working a food stand. Shot him dead right on the street, and since the guards didn’t see it, they did nothing.”

“You remember the previous seasons?” I asked, suddenly intrigued.

“I was a human, like you. I was a crawler a very long time ago. I’m usually an attendant at Club Vanquisher, but this season they got me on urban janitor duty. They pulled us all away to work the opening arenas. Everybody you see here was once a crawler. I think. Sometimes it’s hard to tell. I gotta say, this is the smallest group I’ve ever seen. I ain’t supposed to be talking like this, though. I get in trouble if I break character. You better get moving.”

I nodded. “I’m going. Do you know which hunter killed your brother? Are they back this year?”

Ian visibly shuddered. “Oh, yes. She is here. She is always here. Vrah. A mantis. There’s a core group of about 20 regulars who are here every season. Vrah takes the heads of those she kills and wears them upon her body. Stay away from her, friend. Her death count is in the thousands.” He jerked as if shocked. Without another word, he put his head down and pushed his cart away.

I turned, and I entered through the door.

~

The room was suffocatingly small and smelled of Lysol. I wondered how some of the bigger crawlers, like Chris, fit in here. There was an old-school television against the wall with a glowing coin slot. Static played on the screen. I had to peel my feet off the floor as I stepped inside. A handwritten, stain-covered sign in English hung on the wall. “Only one person per booth.”  I realized with dismay this place was exactly what it looked like.

The screen flickered, and a 10-minute countdown appeared. Words formed on the screen and were also spoken out loud.

Welcome, Crawler.

You have ten minutes to choose your class upgrade. Your class, Compensated Anarchist, is required to pick a specialty. You will have three choices. Choose wisely as your choice will be permanent. If no choice is made, a random choice will be applied. You will retain all of your previous class upgrades.

The robotic, almost emotionless voice was unusual for the dungeon. The three new classes appeared.

Revolutionary.

Guerilla.

Agent Provocateur.

I couldn’t click or interact with the menu. It just appeared and played on the screen, and I was forced to watch. Mordecai and I had already discussed what the most likely choices would be, and these were all pretty close to what we expected. All three came with an unexpected stat point boost.

Revolutionary.

You are in the streets, in the front against the barrier. You can take a tear gas canister to the chest and keep ticking. When they come to break the line, you’re the first to start swinging your fists. This specialty increases your training speed with melee fighting skills and greatly increases your strength.

Revolutionaries receive the following benefits:

An additional +1 to strength upon level-up.

+2 to Unarmed Combat.

Immunity to Cloud-Based attacks (already obtained via upgrade patch)

The Blend into the Crowd benefit.

Faster melee training.

The extra strength benefit alone made this one worth it. My unarmed combat was similar to powerful strike. It currently sat at nine, and it was very difficult to train up. Getting it to 11 would likely give me an additional advantage since it pushed it over ten.

The screen gave a quick rundown of each benefit and skill.

The Blend into Crowd benefit caused guards to forget who I was once I was out of sight for a while. I could’ve really used that skill on the third floor. While great, I suspected this sixth floor was the only remaining floor where that skill would be useful.

Guerilla.

Unlike a revolutionary who stands front and center, you take your fight to the jungles. You cease to be the face of the revolution and instead become the tip of the sword. Using your superior trap-making and ranged-weapon skills, you kill the enemy before they even know you’re there.

Guerillas receive the following benefits:

An additional +1 to dexterity upon level-up

Access to the Advanced Trap Maker’s Workshop.

Plus Camouflage

+5 to the Crossbow skill.

Faster trap-making training.

I had no desire to learn the crossbow, but it would be a good skill to have especially since Katia was leaving the party. I’d been working on explosive crossbow bolts, but she was afraid to use them. Camouflagewas a spell similar to what Maggie My and Frank had used to hide themselves from other crawlers. It worked well, but it required you to stay in place. The Trap Maker’s Workshop was a specialty crafting table, one that I really wanted to get. However, there was another upgrade I wanted even more.

Agent Provocateur.

The mysterious Agent Provocateur prides himself in being invisible. This class specialty focuses on being the ultimate saboteur. These wily troublemakers emphasize less on individual traps and fighting in the street and instead focus on mass-casualty bombs and bomb-making.

An Agent Provocateur receives the following benefits:

An additional +1 to intelligence upon level-up

+1 skill level to a Sapper’s table.

+2 to Explosives Handling.

Access to the advanced Bomb Maker’s Workshop.

Faster explosives training.

Even though the names were similar, the Trap Maker’s Workshop was just a table while the Bomb Maker’s Workshop was an entire room. I didn’t need this class to get the regular version of either, only the “advanced” version. The advanced Trap Maker table was required to build some of the best, magical-based traps, but the advanced Bomb Maker’s Workshop would allow me to precisely tune my explosives and to eventually make much more specialized bombs.

My explosives handling was another skill that had stalled out at nine. This would send me over the hump.

We’d pretty much known I’d be given the option of fighting, traps, or explosives. Thankfully, none of them added any penalties to the other two. Mordecai was insistent that I choose the melee option. Still, I hesitated. I wanted that Advanced Bomb Maker’s workshop. I really wanted it, especially since I had a few recipes sitting in my cookbook that required that room to work.

I wasn’t a huge fan of that +1 to intelligence, however. Still, the more I thought about it, the more I realized I’d been neglecting that stat for far too long. With my boxers and jacket but before the daily buffs, my intelligence sat at only 17. I always liked to keep a buffer that would allow me to cast Heal a few times if I needed. If I wanted any more spells, that stat really needed to go up.

I only had a minute left to choose. The little orange light on the coin slot started blinking as the timer on the screen counted down.

I reached up and touched the filthy screen, clicking directly on the third choice.

“Sorry, Mordecai,” I muttered.

Congratulations, Crawler. You are now Carl, the level 47 Agent Provocateur.

~

Entering the Selva

I left through the same door I entered, and I stepped into the pouring rain. Thick foliage filled the area. Bushes with wide, kite-sized leaves encircled me. The rain splashed off the fronds, splashing up into my face. It sounded like a thousand little drums. Despite the rain, the trill of animals surrounded me along with the thick buzz of insects, even louder than the rain. The air was so muggy, it was almost choking. My lungs felt heavy and wet after just the first breath.

The rain stopped. Just like that. A single beam of sunlight illuminated a thin trail. Everything continued to drip. The leaves and fronds bobbed up and down. I looked up, searching for the ceiling, but I couldn’t see anything through the trees. While the air remained oppressively humid, I caught the scent of flowers in the wet air.

I turned, and the door I’d come through was an actual porta potty, just sitting there in the jungle. I hesitantly opened the plastic door, and inside was just my regular bathroom. I closed the door and examined my surroundings.

A trail led through the forest. A pair of white dots appeared on my map, only about twenty feet away, but I couldn’t see them through the foliage. I already knew what to expect from Donut and Katia. They’d also appeared right here, just outside of town.

I headed toward the two white dots. Both dots had a blue hue around the edge, which meant they were both equipped with magical gear.

A bamboo wall about ten feet high materialized, along with a gate. A pair of guards stood sentry just within, each holding a massive spear about a foot taller than the top of the walls. I paused, examining the twin creatures. My initial impression was thin, tall samurais with white-painted faces, but I blinked and saw them for what they really were. Mushroom men. Two arms, two legs, but no neck. What I’d originally thought were conical, Asian-style coolie hats were actually the mushroom caps. The slender, flaxen-colored creatures did not acknowledge me at all. Their white-painted, vaguely human faces stared straight forward. Each stood about eight feet tall, completely rigid as I hesitantly approached. Each wore a black, but red-highlighted flowing robe tied around their “stalk” just below the face. Water dripped from the tops of their mushroom caps.

Funeral Bell – Level 95

I would apologize in advance for this description, but an apology would imply that I’m sorry. I’m never sorry!

These mushroom dudes are not fun guys.

Funeral Bells are the guards who are tasked with protecting the smaller settlements of the sixth floor. Unlike the swordsmen guards from the Over City, these creatures have no sense of humor. Also, they are on duty day and night. You should avoid making them angry.

“Hello, gentleman,” I said as I strode toward the gate. Just beyond, I could now see a good-sized town within the circle of the bamboo wall. It buzzed with activity. Multiple elves and tree-like creatures walked about. Multi-story shops and pubs filled the streets, many attached to trees. Some were in the trees. It was like a German-style village mixed in with a bunch of treehouses. Small, furry monkey creatures scuttled about the branches. The spire of a Club Vanquisher rose in the distance against the back wall. The golden tip of the spire gleamed in the fading light.

Entering Medium Dryad Settlement. Liana District.

To my left, the first of the two guards fell over. One moment he was just standing there, and then he tipped forward like a tree that had been cut at the base. He crashed in front of me, blocking my path. His mushroom bell of a head smashed when it hit the ground, crumpling in on itself like a can. The giant spear clattered away on the stone street. I just stared. The guard wasn’t dead. The debuff Paralyzed blazed over its head.

The second funeral bell made a croaking noise and dropped his spear. The guard also fell over.

What the hell was going on?

My instincts took over, and I slammed onto Protective Shell.

An angry, hissing noise ripped through the air, and the edge of my spell sparked. There’s something invisible there.

I tossed a smoke curtain, hoping to see movement through the eddies of smoke. I wanted to toss a small hob-lobber, but I didn’t know what direction. NPCs were everywhere. If I hurt one, the guards would come after me. I needed to injure the monster. Most invisible creatures showed themselves once they were hurt.

Behind me, a horn sounded. Shouting rose across the town. My shell sparked again. I still couldn’t see what was causing it. I reached down and picked up the massive spear dropped by the guard.

Warning: You receive a penalty when you use bladed weapons.

Carl: I need help. At the village entrance.

I swung the spear like a club in a wide arc at the air just past the edge of the shell, trying to hit the damn thing. What was this? It couldn’t be a hunter as they were all stuck in that other city. It had to be a mob. It’d incapacitated two level-95 guards like it was nothing.

Invisible mobs were always a worry, but Donut’s sunglasses could see them. That did me no good now. I had to act fast. I dove into my inventory as I swung back and forth, hitting nothing. The shell would run out in seconds.

There. Gunpowder. I still had a dozen sacks of the stuff. Each bag was the size of a pillowcase. I dropped the spear, pulled a sack, and I tossed it just as the shell dropped around me. The sack spun in the air, black powder spilling out. The sack hit something solid, and the black powder formed a shape.

“Shit!” I cried, ducking. It hissed as it sailed right over me. It was smaller than Donut, and it was fast. It hit the ground, shook once, and it dislodged the dust, though I could still almost make it out. Behind the invisible creature, a line of funeral bell guards approached, moving slowly.

In that moment, a dot appeared on my map. It wasn’t red. It was orange. A pet. The smoke curtain wouldn’t work against these things.

Of course, I thought. I should’ve tried this first. I found my new Ping spell in my list, and I cast it.

Pling.

The noise sounded much like a sonar burst from a submarine. It shot forth, and my map flashed. It highlighted every non-mob or crawler in the area. The creature remained right in front of me, ready to pounce again.

“Oof,” I cried as the second orange dot slammed me from behind. I felt a pair of hot teeth sink into my neck.

You have been paralyzed!

I crashed to the ground, frozen. I tried to take a healing potion, and it wouldn’t let me. This is what they’d done to the guards. They’d paralyzed them.

“I’m coming, Carl!” a voice cried out. Donut.

I couldn’t move. A five-minute timer appeared. Five minutes. That was a long-ass time. My limbs felt as if they were on fire.

A magic missile shot out. It slammed directly into the first creature, the one I’d doused in gunpowder. It flipped onto its back and screeched as its fur popped and sparkled as the powder cooked off. The creature’s invisibility dropped. Its health had gone down by half.

It was a fuzzy, jet black, ferret-like monster with six legs and whole bunch of teeth. Its sharp teeth were way too big for its face, jutting every which way. Donut shot it again, leaving it with only a sliver of life. Its fur continued to pop and sizzle like bacon in a pan. Donut shot a third missile at the second monster, the one who’d bitten my neck. This second creature cried out with a hiss. I couldn’t see it, but I heard it hit the ground and start to scramble away.

Mongo cried out with a shriek, sailing over my head as he attacked the second monster. Donut was perched on Mongo’s back, and she screamed along with her dinosaur as they moved to pursue.

I couldn’t move at all. The first injured monster hit the ground a few feet from my face. It was still alive. The creature hissed pitifully at me and started to drag itself closer using a single leg, its jaw ravening. Smoke rose off the thing. It’s going to bite me. Shit, shit, not the face. Not the face! It’s going to bite me in the goddamned face. The creature was almost dead, yet it still fought, its jaw cracking rapid fire. It sounded like a rat trap snapping over and over as it inched closer and closer.

I tried to send a call for help. The system wouldn’t let me.

I examined the creature as I inwardly cringed.

Tootsie. Night Weasel Scout. Level 25.

This a pet of Hunter Zabit.

Have you ever seen one of those videos of a bunch of dogs having a pool party? It’s usually a scene of pure chaos and joy as the golden retrievers and Labradors and other doggos run circles around the pool, jumping in and out and playing and splashing and having a great, hectic time.

Now imagine your body is the pool, and the Night Weasels are the dogs in this scenario.

Not many pack hunters answer to an alpha who isn’t of the same race. It requires an ultra-high charisma to tame a pack of these living meat grinders. It’s said a hunter who can control a gang of the invisible Night Weasels can take down prey of any size.

Their method of stalking is simple. A typical gang consists of approximately 20 weasels, including two or three seeker scouts, a group of huntsmen, and a pack leader. The scouts can sniff out prey from hundreds of kilometers away. They track down and disable the target, rendering it immobile. Once the prey is down, the rest of the weasels move in, their movements coordinated by the gang leader.

I’d describe what happens next, but this is a family show.

A dark, rocky leg slammed down, crushing the pet just as it pulled itself close enough to chomp my nose. Gore splattered onto my face.

Chris. He rumbled something and then stepped over me. Behind me, I could hear Mongo squeal with delight as he chomped onto the second weasel.

“There’s more coming!” Donut cried. “A lot of them!”

“Drag Carl into the saferoom,” a new voice called. Katia. “They’re hunting him. Let the guards take care of it.”

I felt myself rise up into the air, and I realized Chris had picked me up. His lava-rock body burned my skin. He easily lifted me over his shoulder. My entire body was stiff, my hand frozen awkwardly up in the air.

“The guards can’t see them. They’re all invisible!” Donut yelled. I heard the familiar zap of a spell being cast, followed by a second spell. A weasel screeched. Donut had raised the pet from the dead and cast Clockwork Triplicate on it.

“Get ‘em!” Donut yelled as I was bodily removed from the area. Chris strode into a pub. I caught sight of a tree-like creature looking at me as we moved into the personal space. My head banged into the entranceway as we went through the door. He unceremoniously dumped me onto the couch. I faced up into the air, still unable to move. I sat there, not doing anything at the timer ticked down.

I felt something climb up onto me. A fuzzy face looked down at me, scowling just as the timer counted down to zero. My limbs still burned, but I could move them.

I looked up at the furry, buck-toothed, teddy bear-like face glaring down at me.

“You had to go and challenge all of the hunters. Now look what happened,” Mordecai said, trying to sound angry. “And that doesn’t look like a melee class to me.”

I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it.

Mordecai – Pocket Kuma. Level 50.

Manager of Crawler Princess Donut

This is a Non-Combatant NPC.

Wow! This pint-sized fuzzball is adorable!

The rare Pocket Kuma is a magic-infused, half-fairy creature originally designed as a pet for the elite High Elf royal court. When it was discovered these creatures were intelligent, High Elf King Finian, of course, ordered them all executed. Only a few of the little rascals managed to escape into the jungle.

A kuma is a type of bear. A Pocket Kuma is a different sort of creature, though they are distantly related. You take a small bear, crossbreed it with a capybara spirit, pick out the runt of the litter, and then breed it further down with a sugar glider. The resulting, bug-eyed creature is what you see before you now.

They can’t fight for shit. They can barely walk. But holy shit are they disgustingly cute.

I bet they smush really well.

He was a fuzzy, brown, knee-height, chubby, bipedal bear thing with elf ears and a monkey tail. His eyes were ridiculously huge, making him look like a baby. He had a pair of buck teeth that didn’t help the illusion. The tail waved back and forth angrily.

“Laugh it up,” Mordecai said, pissed. “Get it out of your system.”

“Your voice,” I said, falling off the couch as I continued to howl, causing him to yelp and leap off of me. He used his tail to keep himself from lurching back. I had tears rolling down my cheek. “Holy shit. Will you be able to work at the alchemy table like this? Do you want me to build a booster chair for you?”

“Go fuck yourself, Carl,” Mordecai said. He leaped across the room and landed on the kitchen table, huffing. Chris stood nearby, watching impassively.

Donut and Katia finally returned to the room. “The guards used their poison cloud attack to…” Katia began. She saw me there on the ground, laughing. A grin spread across her face, and she also started to laugh. “He really is funny looking, isn’t he?”

Mordecai glowered from the kitchen counter. He jumped sideways, sailing through the air and landing on the ground in front of his room. He tried to storm in, but he couldn’t reach the doorknob. He had to jump up and grab it. He dangled helplessly for a moment before the door opened on its own. He dropped to the floor, went inside, and slammed it.

“You shouldn’t make fun of someone just because they’re small and adorable, Carl,” Donut said. She leaped onto the couch and looked down at me as I sat up and wiped my eyes. “I’m small and adorable, and I just saved your life.”

“You’re right,” I said, still laughing. “Thank you, by the way. All of you. It was just so… unexpected. They really screwed him over this time.” I took a moment to compose myself. “Did the guards get all of the weasel things?”

“I’m not sure,” Donut said. “I started hitting them with low-powered magic missiles which made them visible. Eventually one of the guards spewed a poison cloud, and we had to run.”

“They were hunting you, Carl,” Katia added. “They were just the first. There will be more. A lot more.”

“I know,” I said, sobering. “When the hunters are released, all hell is going to break loose.”

We all sat there in silence for a few moments. I was so damn tired.

There was a knock at the door. The door to the personal space.

“What in god’s name?” Katia asked. “How… who is that?”

“Ahh, yes,” I said, standing up and striding toward the door. “It’s a delivery.”

“Of what?” Katia asked.

“Collateral,” I answered.


~~

Hello all. Sorry it took me an extra few days to post this. The original version included the whole lawyer segment, but I felt it made the start of a new book a little top heavy, so I will spread out the negotiations and the introduction of a new, major character over the course of a few chapters.

I hope you're all doing well. Thank you all so much for your continued support!