Dungeon Crawler Carl Book 2

by DoctorHepa

  “Achievements?” Donut asked, perking up. “Rewards?”

  “But,” Odette continued, “Per Syndicate rules, the host is allowed a single veto each season. This is important. It’s almost always used to throw an appeal in their favor on the tenth or deeper floors. It has never been used this early. And Borant was forced to use their free veto on the prize decision, which reversed the ruling. So unfortunately for you guys, you won’t be receiving what you should. Still, everybody saw what happened. Everybody saw what you were rewarded. Sadly, you won’t be getting it.”

  “What?” Donut said. “I don’t understand. What are we not getting?”

  “Okay, first let’s watch what really happened after Katia pressed that button.”

  The screen changed to a view of a news-like program I’d never seen before. It was a news desk setup, similar to the recap show, but with an alien-like Soother host.

  The Soother spoke with the practiced ease of a seasoned newscaster. “And while the tragic, controversial tale of Remex the Grand finally comes to an end, a new controversy has erupted in Borant’s Dungeon Crawler World. A last-minute decision by a trio of trapped Crawlers ended in an unexpected result. A result with potentially disastrous, real-life consequences for Borant. Watch this.”

  I bristled at the newscaster’s use of “real-life.” The screen showed Katia pressing the button. The scene switched to the view of the warehouse, and of the pus detonating. Multiple Swordsmen guards, all with their health in the very deep red, tumbled to the ground. The view switched to the second floor, to the pitiful, curled up form of Remex hiding in the corner. He’d become nothing but a silhouette of pulsing yellow. In the two seconds before that final explosion, the light disappeared. He cried out in pain just as he was overwhelmed with the blast from the dynamite.

  The newscaster continued. “A controlled blast at the last second, which caused a mass soul crystal release from the fallen swordsmen, greatly tempered the resulting wild magic explosion, causing it to be much less destructive than originally intended. In the end, thousands of NPC and several dozen Crawler lives were potentially saved by the action.”

  I groaned. “Does that mean we didn’t have to go down the stairs?”

  “Nope,” Odette said. She waved her hand, and the screen paused. She looked at us, feigning sympathy. “Do you know how many Celestial prize boxes have been given out in the history of Dungeon Crawler World?”

  Donut leaped to her feet. Mongo also jumped up, tail waving in excitement.

  “Oh my god, shut up, Odette,” Donut said, eyes huge. “Are you saying we’re getting screwed out of a Celestial box?” She turned to the audience. “This is an outrage!”

  Odette nodded. “The answer is 2,145. That’s how many Celestial boxes of any kind have been given out. I myself was the recipient of three. The record to a single Crawler is four. And before this crawl, the most that have ever been given out in a single season is 18. That was a Naga season, long, long ago. You might not be aware of this, but the host company is required to pay taxes to the Syndicate on each and every non-sponsored box given out. They are given a handful of free Celestials each season, but anything above that comes with a pretty hefty bill for the showrunners. And each one is more expensive than the last. That’s usually offset by a million other line items that flow into the production. For example, we pay an exorbitant amount to get your butts in that chair.”

  “As you should,” Donut said, her voice still filled with anger. The audience laughed.

  “It has been over 250 cycles since the Blood Sultanate of the Naga ran the first Crawl to actually lose money, and they are still recovering from it. They haven’t run a season since then. They only have a place in Faction Wars because they purchased a permanent spot early on.”

  “For just 18 boxes?” I said. “That seems over the top.”

  “That season was cursed for multiple reasons, but we don’t need to get into that. Anyway, the game is supposed to be difficult. Legendary boxes are handed out like candy because they’re cheap, but Celestial boxes are an order of magnitude better. The prize in a single box can render an underperforming Crawler almost immortal, practically unbeatable until they reach the tenth floor. If they capriciously hand them out, more crawlers will make it to the deeper levels, and the showrunners both drag the season out and earn much more money. So the Syndicate places a heavy premium on such items. And while the AI usually chooses the prizes, the writers running the show are responsible for creating the circumstances in which the boxes are earned. So it’s a careful balance.”

  I was trying really hard not to break the golden rule, which was Thou shalt not talk shit about Borant. I was finding it very difficult.

  “It’s just three boxes,” Donut grumbled. “I don’t see why they had to waste their stupid veto on keeping me, Carl, and Katia from getting an awesome prize.”

  Odette cocked her head to the side. “Maybe I should show you the rest of that news report.” She waved her hand, and the frozen scene resumed. It now showed an Asian, half-elf crawler drag himself into a saferoom after obviously surviving the magical blast that was meant to kill him. He appeared gravely injured, likely from his own equipment turning on him. The show labeled him as the level 15 Crawler Quan Ch, a class called an Imperial Security Trooper. This was the same guy who’d called us assholes in the chat.

  “He survived,” Donut said. “I’m glad. I felt kind of bad about what I did.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Oh, I blocked him from the chat after he called us assholes,” said Donut. “You can’t let people in your chatrooms get out of control, Carl. You need to rule with an iron paw.”

  The newscast continued as I looked incredulously at Donut. “As a result of surviving the event quest, all Crawlers in the initial blast zone were promised a Platinum Quest Box. But as you’re about to see, the survivors received something a little better than that.”

  We all watched as Quan Ch pulled up his achievements.

  New achievement! Bandit!

  Screw Hadji. Hadji was a little bitch anyway. You have completed a quest, but it was completed it in a way unusual enough to trigger the Bandit Achievement! Unlike the real Bandit, who is usually instrumental in helping Jonny Quest complete his tasks, you didn’t actually do anything to deserve this prize. But that’s okay because you’re still getting it. This is one of the rare achievements that can be rewarded more than once.

  Reward: Your Platinum Quest box has been upgraded two times to a Celestial Quest Box!

  The scene showed him reverently opening the box to receive what looked like a glowing robe. The show didn’t give the robe’s description, but the moment Quan put it on, he floated off the ground. Magical, wisp-like wings grew from the back of his body. His left hand glowed blue.

  The newscaster continued. “An incredible total of 83 Celestial boxes were rewarded as a result of the quest getting a rare double upgrade. Borant immediately appealed, but not before that one box was opened, thus putting Borant on the hook for that one. The Syndicate court has convened an emergency session to determine if the beleaguered company will have to pay for the remaining 82 boxes. If so, it is certain there will be no financial recovery for the once-mighty Borant system.”

  “So that jerk got a free box for our hard work!” Donut cried. “Are you kidding me? And we don’t get anything? Are we still getting a Platinum box?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Odette said. “Their veto negated all prizes. Nobody is receiving a loot box from that quest except that one crawler. That same night, they issued a patch that disabled both the Hadji and Bandit upgrade achievements.”

  I laughed. Everybody turned to look at me.

  “It’s not funny, Carl,” Donut said. She was not acting. The cat trembled with rage.

  “Why is that so amusing to you, Carl?” Odette asked.

  I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what we do. How hard we work. We keep getting screwed. Losing out sucks, but I’ve come to expe
ct it. All that matters is getting stronger, getting more experience. We messed that up by getting involved in quests when we should be grinding. We’re not going to make that mistake again. From now on, it’s all about progression and training.”

  Odette replied, “You probably didn’t miss out on as much experience as you think. That magical burst was muted, but it was still big. You may not have received prizes or experience from the quest, but you still got credit for the actual explosion. Because you technically caused it, your team received a handful of experience for every mob that it killed, including all those swordsmen guards.”

  She waved her hand, and our stats and level appeared over our heads. The audience gasped, and then broke out into applause.

  Donut had raised seven levels, from 19 to 26. I had raised six, from 21 to 27. The last time I’d set foot in a safe room, I’d been level 19. That meant I had 24 stat points to distribute.

  And then there was Katia.

  She’d leaped 12 levels. She’d gone from nine to 21.

  Odette turned to the audience. “As I promised you guys at the start of the show, I have exclusive, breaking news to share. The fourth floor will be opening up in less than an hour, but I have received a tentative draft of the leaderboard. Would you like to see it?”

  “Yes! Yes we would,” Donut said, hopping up and down. All semblance of anger—and her usual, posh television persona—had fled. The crowd roared.

  “So, bear in mind, this won’t be official until the next recap episode, and as you all know, things can change quickly in the dungeon, so this might shift. But I can reveal this is the current working copy. Nobody knows the exact formula for the leaderboard. It’s a mix of views, favorites, level, and money earned. But the list usually matches pretty well with the most popular players in the game. So are you ready?”

  “Carl,” Donut said, shaking with excitement. “We’re going to be on it. I just know it!”

  Odette waved her hand, and the top-10 list appeared.

  Current Leaderboard.

  Lucia Mar – Lajabless – Black Inquisitor General – Level 29 – 1,000,000

  Hekla – Amazonian – Shield Maiden – Level 28 – 500,000

  Prepotente – Caprid – Forsaken Aerialist – Level 27 – 400,000

  Florin – Crocodilian – Shotgun Messenger – Level 24 – 300,000

  Miriam Dom – Human – Shepherd – Level 27 – 200,000

  Carl – Primal – Compensated Anarchist – Level 27 – 100,000

  Donut – Cat – Former Child Actor – Level 26 – 100,000

  Ifechi – Human – Physicker – Level 18 – 100,000

  Li Jun – Human – Street Monk – Level 25 – 100,000

  Elle McGib – Frost Maiden – Blizzardmancer – Level 13 – 100,000

  Donut squealed with delight. “Carl, we’re in the top ten! And Hekla is number two!” She turned to the audience. “I love her. She demonstrates such dignity. Such grace. Plus I can’t believe that ugly Lucia Mar is number one. Isn’t she just awful?” The audience laughed.

  “Who is Prepotente?” I asked, reading down the list. I knew Florin was the crocodile-headed dude with the shotgun. Miriam Dom was the goat lady. I didn’t know Ifechi. Li Jun was the Chinese guy from the Maestro’s show, the one I’d helped save the from the troglodytes and brindle grubs. I was happy to see him on the list. I hoped Zhang and the others in his group were doing well, too.

  “Carl, is that who I think it is?” Donut asked, pointing at the final name.

  I nodded. Holy shit. Wheelchair-bound, dementia-suffering Mrs. McGibbons, one of the residents of the Meadow Lark Adult Care Community was on the list. She was only level 13, having started the third floor as a level one. How in the hell had that happened? I hadn’t talked to Brandon in several days.

  “That’s our show, folks! Tomorrow we will have an engineer from Borant on to discuss the ins and outs of this new, exciting level. I don’t yet know what it is, but rumor has it we’ll see something that’s never been attempted before. We’ll also have a pair of crawler special guests. They’re not on the top ten list, but these up-and-comers are quickly becoming new favorites. Here’s a hint: they’re twins!” The crowd roared.

  The audience faded away. “I really need to talk to you guys, but I only have a few minutes,” Odette said. She didn’t pull off her mask like she usually did. “I’m going on my own interview in five, on a different program. We’ll be live-commenting on the opening of the floor. I’m going to get flak for not asking you about the assassination attempt, but Borant said it was off-limits. And Mordecai has reiterated that point several times.”

  “Do you just, like, watch him all day?” Donut asked.

  “I do,” Odette said, as if that was a perfectly normal thing to say. “As much as I can. This next floor is going to be especially dangerous.” She looked at me. “Be careful with that gauntlet. It has the power to summon the war god Grull if you use it against any of his worshipers. They’ll start appearing on this floor. And King Rust has apparently just spent a lot of money on a deity sponsorship. The Skull Empire doesn’t usually purchase those, so it might be an attempt to get to you. I don’t know which god they’ve sponsored, but if I was still a gambler, I’d bet on Grull.”

  “Can the god get to us if I don’t accidentally summon him?”

  “Probably not. Not on this floor. Ask Mordecai how that all works.” She paused. “He has a lot of experience in the subject, unfortunately.”

  Lexis entered the room. “Katia, dear,” the production assistant said. “Can you follow me, please? I need to show you the return procedures. Donut, you can assist if you’d like.”

  “Uh, sure,” Katia said, getting up and leaving the room.

  “Bye Odette!” Donut said as she and Mongo followed.

  “I don’t know what the next floor’s theme is,” Odette said, watching them leave. “But based on what I’m hearing, momentum-based crawlers will have a strong advantage. So keep her around if you can. But I called her out of the room because I wanted to warn you.”

  “About Katia?” I said. “She seems harmless. And Mordecai really likes her.”

  “I don’t think she’s in on it. Not willingly. I’m talking about Hekla. She’s not evil. Or psychotic like Lucia Mar. However, she is very practical. And cunning. She does not have your sense of justice, which makes her dangerous. I’ve watched her some, and she’s becoming obsessed with the idea of getting Donut to join her gang.”

  “Hekla seems great, but I don’t think we’d work well together. I can only handle one huge personality at a time, and Donut fits in that slot pretty well.”

  “Based on her conversations with her now-former guide, I don’t think she wants you in the party anyway. She thinks you’re unstable. But she knows about Mordecai, thanks to Katia, and since Mordecai is part of Donut’s package deal, she wants Donut in the party so she has access to a permanent manager.”

  “I don’t think Donut would ever leave me,” I said, looking at the door.

  “No, I don’t either. Not as long as you’re still alive.”

  I felt a chill rush through me.

  “But again, I don’t believe Katia is in on it. And she likes you. I can tell.”

  “Why are you telling me this, Odette?” I asked.

  She chuckled. “I’m glad you’re still following my first piece of advice. I lied earlier when I said I was paying an exorbitant amount to get you two on the show. When I bought your rights, it was very early, and you were very cheap. I paid less for the entire season of interviews than one pays to get you two on right now. If you die and Donut joins Brynhild’s Daughters, my contract is voided. You two are still my highest-rated guests. In fact, I think that top-ten list is bunk. You two should be numbers two and three.”

  The top 10 list still floated there in the middle of the room.

  “Odette,” I asked, reading the list again. “What are those numbers at the end of each name? That million and 100,000?”

 
“That’s just the bounty,” she said. “It’s how much other crawlers get if they kill you. Now I must leave. Be careful out there. I’ll see you after the next floor collapse.” Odette faded away, leaving me alone, bobbing slowly up and down with the waves.

  “Fuck,” I said to the empty room.

  A note from DoctorHepa

  And thus officially ends Book 2 (Which still doesn't have a title). Book three begins in a few days. I hope ya'll had a good weekend, and I hope my friends from USA still have all their fingers and toes.

  * * *

  Chapter 74 - Welcome to the Fourth Floor - "The Iron Tangle"

  Time to level Collapse: 10 Days.

  Views: 43.1 Quadrillion

  Followers: 677 Trillion

  Favorites: 158.1 Trillion

  Leaderboard rank: 6

  Bounty: 100,000 gold

  Red Line.

  Welcome, Crawler to the fourth floor. “The Iron Tangle”

  Your title has reverted to Royal Bodyguard.

  Sponsorship bidding initiated on Crawler #4,122. Bidding ends in 45 hours.

  The world rumbled. The ground shook. I stumbled backward the moment we appeared, but I was held upright by a metal wall. Lights flashed in a quick staccato, pulsing on either side of the long, thin room. I felt the thump, thump, thump under my feet. We were in a long, plastic and metal tube that vibrated and thundered. The lights in the room blinked out then turned back on.

  Mongo screeched in anger and fear. Donut jumped to my shoulder, trembling. Katia clutched onto a metal pole rising from the floor to the ceiling.

  New achievement! I’m on a train!

  Choo Choo, Motherfucker.

  Reward: You’ve received a Train Conductor’s Souvenir Hat! Wear it with pride!

  “It’s a subway car,” I said. We hurled through a tunnel, racing toward some unknown destination.