by Iliev, Neven
“Ah! I must’ve dropped him in the- Oh, no. That guy stole him!”
Oh! It’s the fabled ‘hit-and-run’ pickpocket! Boxxy exclaimed internally. So that’s how that works, eh?
The monster was rather impressed with the thief’s technique. It was almost a shame that the stupid piece of meat thought that it could steal one of Boxxy T. Morningwood’s belongings.
“Wait here.”
“K-Keira?”
Rowana stared up at her girlfriend, slightly taken aback by the cold hatred in her voice and eyes. Boxxy noticed her reaction and realized that its animosity had momentarily slipped through its facade, prompting it to try and cover up for the mistake.
“Look, I’m sorry. I have to go get it back. I won’t let anyone take something precious from me ever again.”
There was more truth in those words than Boxxy intended, but they had the right effect.
“Oh-okay,” the elf stammered. “I get it, just go. And be careful!”
“I always am.”
The woman felt a bit relieved when she saw the same reassuring smile Keira always gave her, and watched the beastkin take off into the crowd on all fours. Having somehow salvaged the situation, Boxxy turned its attention towards the cloaked figure that attempted to rob it. It had already moved beyond its magical perception range and blended into the crowd, but it wasn’t a problem. The apprentice Ranger already had the scent of its target, and the Tracking Skill highlighted the man’s trail, illuminating his footprints in a soft glow that only Boxxy could see.
The beastkin ran through the crowds with reckless abandon as per usual, going in between legs, through stalls and over carts. Eventually, she turned into a side alley, which had some old crates and jars strewn about.
“Shit. What the fuck is this?” an agitated voice came from behind a pile of trash.
“Yap! Yap!” a squeaky voice protested in response.
It would appear the thief had just realized that the an expensive-looking ornate jewelry box he had stolen was, in fact, a living being.
“Ah, whatever. That jewel should be worth something at least.”
He reached behind his belt and took out a small knife, clearly intending to carve the expensive-looking thing out of the struggling house mimic.
“Hands off, asshole!”
The still-in-character catgirl ran up to him while he was distracted and slashed his forearm with her retractable claws.
“Gah! The fuck?!”
It didn’t do a lot of damage and the cut was rather shallow, but it still caused the hooded elf to stagger backwards and drop the panicking box. Having obtained its freedom, Minic quickly ran away from the scary person and hid behind its far more ferocious ‘cousin.’
“You got some nerve trying to steal other people’s pets!” Keira accused the man.
“You’ll regret that, you little tramp!”
The man swung at the catgirl with more speed than she was expecting. Judging from his movements, he must have been around a Level 30 or 35 Job holder. Most likely a Rogue, which was unsurprisingly common among pickpockets, thieves, burglars, and other ne'er-do-wells. He was hardly a threat to a monster of Boxxy’s caliber, but the shapeshifter was currently undercover. Objectively speaking, there was no way a Level 14 Ranger would be able to defeat a Level 30-something Rogue in close quarters. Especially when the former was an unarmed teenager and the latter was an adult male holding a rather big knife.
Of course, none of that would matter so long as the beastkin hadn’t been the one to fight this hoodlum.
A shadowy figure suddenly dropped down in the path of the advancing Rogue, hiding Keira from the thug’s view. The interloper’s long, flowing cloak obscured his body and a face wrap concealed his face and head. He appeared to be a man with naturally wide shoulders and slightly over two meters in height. Armored boots skidded across the ground and a pair of metal-clad hands burst out of the billowing garment, grabbing hold of the startled thief’s arm and collar. The stranger then slammed the elf against the nearby wall and pressed the edge of his own blade against the thief’s throat. The poor sod looked into his attacker’s unnaturally yellow eyes, which seemed to glow from inside his mask.
The street thug proceeded to liberally soil his undergarments as a wave of terror unlike anything he had ever experienced washed over his entire being.
“Huehaahaaehaeeheaaeheaaa!”
The much-larger man let out a disjointed, inhuman laugh that sounded like an entire pack of hyenas choking to death.
“What’s going on here?!”
A loud, commanding voice came in from the entrance to the alley. A group of eight people approached in matching silver-plated armor with an eagle-wing motif decorating their shoulder plates and helmets. They were part of Azurvale’s city guard, most likely a patrol that had come to investigate who could be raising such a ruckus in this dingy little alley. The cloaked figure threw a glance at them over his shoulder, then clambered up the side of the building and disappeared over the rooftops in a formidable display of agility. As for the Rogue, he was left behind curled up on the ground.
Well, most of him, anyway.
“Aarrgh! My arrrm! Grrraaaar!”
He screamed and roared as blood flowed out of the stump on his right hand, which was ripped clean off his wrist when his assailant retreated.
“Medic, quickly!” the man in the fanciest-looking helmet bellowed orders. “Jammie, watch the girl! The rest of you, up those rooftops!”
The patrol flew into a frenzy as they complied. The leader and medic attended to the wounded thief, while a third one told Keira to sit by and not make any sudden moves. The other five deftly clambered up the walls, despite their heavy-looking armor. They returned a few minutes later, carrying only the stranger’s discarded cloak and mask, claiming he vanished into thin air just when they thought they had caught up to him.
The would-be-thief, the catgirl, and her pet box with teeth were then taken into custody and questioned. Keira merely told the truth—she was walking home with her ‘roommate’ when that guy tried to rob them. She chased after him using her natural agility and Ranger Skills, then foolishly confronted him in the alley. She then realized she was outmatched and would’ve been stabbed for sure if that mysterious fellow hadn’t intervened.
“So, you did not know the supposed thief?” the guard continued interrogating her.
“No. I’ve never seen him before in my life.”
“Hmm… Alright, what about the man who intervened?”
“Same. He just dropped in out of nowhere. If it wasn’t for him…”
The shapeshifter pretended to regret its own recklessness, hence why Keira made that ‘it’s all my fault’ face while looking at the ground.
“Indeed, you’re lucky he showed up. Otherwise you could have been seriously hurt.”
“I know. Do you have any idea who that was?”
“None of your business, miss.”
“Please? I just want to know who I have to thank for saving me from my own stupidity.”
The adorable catgirl’s sincere demeanor made the soldier’s eyes swim for a bit. The effects of Boxxy’s unseen Charisma (CHR) Attribute coupled with its attractive outward appearance meant that it was easy to lull people into a false sense of security with the right attitude. This again was something that Snack had demonstrated many times over the past month or so.
“… Look, officially we’re told not to deny his existence,” said the guard in a hushed tone, “but I think that was the Sandman from the rumors.”
“Wait, he’s real?”
“Shh! Keep your voice down, girl.”
“Oh. Right, sorry.”
“Anyway, yeah, he’s real. They say he’s been dismantling gangs and cartels throughout the city, but it also seems he’s not above stomping a few street thugs along the way.”
“… But?” she asked pointedly.
“But, he’s still a criminal. There’s no telling how many innocents were caught u
p in his... business, so I urge you to stay away from him.”
“I see. Okay, I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks a lot for sharing this with me, mister guard.”
Keira flashed a radiant smile reminiscent of a sunflower in full bloom. It made the middle-aged elf cough lightly with embarrassment. The catgirl in front of him was so adorable that he found himself wanting to hug her, pat her head, and scratch her fuzzy ears, though not in a lecherous way. She just seemed like the sort of cute daughter that any father would be proud of. However, the guard recognized such behavior as inappropriate and unbecoming of an older man, especially a public servant and peacekeeper.
“You’re welcome, missy. Just keep it between us, okay? My boss will yell at me if I he learned I went around saying stuff like that. What I said was just hearsay and speculation, nothing more.”
“You got it, mister guard. It’ll be our little secret.”
She gave the guard a small wink with a finger against her thin lips, making him almost unable to bear it. This girl was downright dangerous, almost as if someone had tried to weaponize cuteness itself. Which was, more or less, the case.
As for the guard’s guess regarding the beastkin’s ‘savior,’ he had been only partially correct. That particular ‘Sandman’ had been a Mirror Image prepared by Boxxy. The shapeshifter had noticed the armed patrol and their shiny armor just before it had followed the thief into the alleyway. It seemed likely they would interfere, so it chose to remain in character while letting its body double take all the ‘credit’ for thwarting the theft. Not only did this divert attention and suspicion away from Keira, but it was also the first time that the rumored vigilante had left so many witnesses behind. Even if the office of the city guard wanted to keep the Sandman’s existence under wraps, they would be unable to stop so many people from blabbing about him now.
Then, once Boxxy’s darker alter ego had obtained a certain amount of notoriety and reputation, it would offer its services to the right people. Preferably those with few scruples, lots of money, and a good amount of influence. It was only natural there would be some government official or affluent individual who required something taken care of quickly and quietly… for a nominal fee, of course. The shapeshifter had no issue providing its services to the highest bidder, but it had to build up the Sandman as a meticulous and brutally efficient professional.
With the interview over, the guard escorted Keira out of the building. Rowana had been patiently waiting for her in the lobby with Minic, both of whom seemed relieved she was alright. The elf scolded her a bit for being reckless while the animate box excitedly bumped against her ankles. It would appear that, even though it had the intelligence of a rusty doorknob, the house mimic understood that the redhead had saved it from a dangerous situation.
[Congratulations, you are now a Level 14 Doppelganger! All Attributes +2.]
Boxxy cheered internally at the Level Up as the couple and their new pet proceeded happily towards their love nest. They got home without further incident, had a modest dinner of vegetable soup and performed their nightly dose of lovemaking and cuddling before Rowana fell asleep in Keira’s arms. The catgirl waited a bit to make sure she was completely out of it, before wriggling out of bed and exchanging places with Xera through use of the Transfamiliar Spell. The succubus would keep an eye on Rowana and make sure she didn’t wake up and notice Keira’s absence. Xera was under orders to only use the Sleep Spell, and to avoid activating the Dreamweaver Skill unless absolutely necessary. Repeated use of the Skill made it unreliable, and Boxxy didn’t want a repeat of what had happened with Fizzy prior to their capture by Edward, the Empire’s Spymaster.
“‘Tis good to see thee again, milord.”
Upon returning to the dungeon, Ambrosia greeted Boxxy with an overjoyed smile.
“Yeah, it’s good to be back,” it replied as it transformed from its true doppelganger shape into a spider-legged chest.
Boxxy still wasn’t sure why or how, but the Transfamiliar Spell forcefully undid its shapeshifting. If other teleportation-type Spells had the same effect, then that might prove to be a big problem. Especially since the people of the Republic relied on those gigantic circular Forest Gates to transport goods and people across large distances in an instant. It was highly likely that Boxxy would need to use them at some point. The fact that the use of those Gates use was strictly regulated and supervised meant it couldn’t just test it out at its leisure, either. Then again, the Transfamiliar Spell supposedly functioned using different principles from standard spatial magic, so it was likely this shapeshifting thing was a quirk unique to that particular incantation.
Putting its worries aside for the moment, the box began inspecting the workshop that Fizzy had set up with the dungeon core’s functions. A large, rectangular room had been carved into the side of the tree’s inner wall through Terrain Sculpting, and was easily accessible from the platform where the dungeon core resided. It had only three walls, meaning there was no doorway or anything to separate the workshop from the rest of the open space.
Inside was a large stone furnace, as well as three anvils of different make and material. A myriad of tools lined the walls alongside a plethora of shelves, boxes and display cases. These containers stood vacant, ready to be filled with all kinds of components, parts and mechanisms. There was also a long wooden table attached to the left wall, opposite the furnace. This would probably serve as Fizzy’s workstation. In fact, she seemed to have already started working on something if the lump of casings, screws and wires on the table was any indication.
“Was all of this made through Item Allocation and Terrain Sculpting?”
“‘Tis so, milord. These tools and facilities were created and maintained through the core, although they require a small amount of upkeep to keep them operational.”
“Hmm, I suppose that much is fine then. What about using dungeon-created materials to Level Up the Job? Did Fizzy try that?”
“Indeed she did, milord. Unfortunately, it did not seem to be sufficient. ‘Tis the reason she is currently away procuring materials at this time.”
“Well, that was to be expected.”
Temporary things born of pure mana did not provide a permanent boost to one’s Job or Skill Levels. It was an unwritten rule of this world. Using magically-created tools was probably okay though, just so long as the materials used came from outside the dungeon.
“Oh! That reminds me, I hath some more good news regarding milady Fizzy’s position, milord,” Ambrosia declared enthusiastically. “Thine servant hath discovered the dungeon is capable of creating a Bracelet of Allegiance, a magical item that identifies anyone who wears it as a friend to the dungeon. I hath taken the liberty of preparing one for milady Fizzy upon her return.”
The dryad pointed towards a small pedestal that stood just outside the magically-created Artificer workshop. On it was a thin steel bangle with a tiny, glowing gem embedded into it. Boxxy couldn’t help but notice that this precious stone looked a lot like a miniature version of the dungeon core. Unfortunately, as shiny as it was, this thing would most likely vanish into thin air if it were taken outside the dungeon’s sphere of influence. On the upside, if what Ambrosia said was true, then the Dryad’s Domain would finally stop treating Fizzy as a hostile invader.
“I see. Very convenient,” the shapeshifter declared sagely. “Hm? Where’s Arms?”
“Thy many-limbed servant is currently assisting this one,” the tree spirit informed it. “I hath found a new nest of pests that hath burrowed themselves into mine bark, and she is currently evicting them.”
“… These ‘pests’ are termites and not elves, right?”
“Of course, milord. This one would rather not harm the favored of Nyrie if it could be avoided. They art responsible for carrying this one’s fruits and seeds throughout the land and raising mine offspring in safety. In return I provide them with shelter and nourishment. ‘Tis a mutually beneficial relationship, though I do wish they would refrain from peel
ing at mine bark so much.”
“Okay, that’s good.”
The last thing Boxxy needed right now was to worry about authorities investigating this tree’s interior because some people went missing.
“What if they came into the dungeon portion of your body?”
“Then this one would ask them to leave. Or force them to if they refused.”
“That’s naive, Ambrosia!” it reprimanded her.
“How so?”
“Dungeons are known to hold valuables and treasures. If word got out that your body had become home to one, it would lead to all sorts of greedy individuals attacking the dungeon in an attempt to plunder its riches! You wouldn’t want that, right?”
“Heavens no, milord! Just the thought of that happening is… extremely unpleasant. Then, what doth milord suggest I do with such miscreants?”
“Capture them alive and prevent them from leaving here. You should be able to do that much without relying on Prison Management, yes?”
“‘Tis so, milord. I can imprison them in cages made of mine roots and branches and sustain them with mine fruits for as long as need be. But, what would that accomplish? Surely ‘tis better to just kill them and use them as fertilizer, no?”
“That is also naive! The absence of certain people is sure to be noticed, which would mean those elves would send even more people to investigate their disappearance. The end result would be no different than simply letting them go.”
“Ah! Thou speaketh truly!”
“But worry not, for Snack and I are on your side. We’ll be sure to handle those intruders in a way that will not draw attention to this place! If they’re unimportant and will not be missed, they will be eaten. If they are regular citizens or people of importance, then we can tamper with their memory or cover up this place’s existence in some other way.”
“I see! Milord’s wisdom belies thy age! I shalt engrave thy words unto mine heartwood.”
Ambrosia took a deep bow while her emerald-green eyes shone with respect. As expected, she was completely oblivious to the relationships between dungeons and adventurers, so Boxxy wanted to make a good impression on her. It was insurance should the dungeon core’s influence weaken in the future. If the dryad were to somehow reclaim her wits, then she will have memories of being treated as a partner rather than a slave. This would hopefully be enough to douse her ire when and if this occurred.