Dungeon Crawler Carl Book 2

by DoctorHepa

  The dots finally appeared on my minimap, hundreds of them all bunched up against the door.

  I looked up at the closest fragment of flesh, just above my head. The exposed skin was only about three square inches wide, brown and covered in hair, flapping up and down furiously.

  Minion of War Mage Dismember – Swamp Orc Flesher – Level 10.

  Ahh, isn’t it cute? It wants to give you a hug.

  As I pressed my shoulder against the metal, I reached up with my right hand and grasped onto the flesh. I yanked, easily ripping the flesh away like I was tearing at plastic wrap. It made no sound. Blood seeped from the wound before the rest of it pulled away. I had no idea if this hurt the main part or not. My fingers burned, and I dropped the wadded hunk of flesh. I stomped it down. The back side of the plastic-like skin was caustic.

  The metal plate rocked again, but we were ready this time. Still, a few additional tendrils of flesh appeared along the edges. I was starting to feel pressure. I set my legs.

  “Donut and Mongo, get the flesh on the edges. Only touch the skin side!”

  I didn’t have to ask twice. Donut leaped to my shoulder and leaped again, scratching down the edge of the barrier where the metal met the wall, ripping at the flesh. Her claws dug so deep she left scars on the wall itself. The moment she ripped through the flesh, it retracted as if in pain, leaving a smear of blood. On the other side, Mongo scrabbled at the wall with his feet. Jumping and pushing off, ripping at large sheets of skin. The pressure at the door eased.

  I heard a deep squeal of rage from the other side. One by one, the red dots started to fall back. A new figure approached. It walked so it was right up against the other side of the metal. I felt it lean up against the barrier. It gave it a quick shove, as if to test our strength. The creature was strong, but we were stronger, especially combined.

  Twelve minutes and counting.

  “Do you really think I won’t have your skin?” a voice rasped through the makeshift barrier. I pictured him there, whatever he was, head up against the metal. “Your friends were already on this train. Six other times. One group was much larger than your group now. They tried blocking the door too. Such beautiful leather. Come now. Open it up. Join us. It will only hurt for but a moment.”

  I really wished I hadn’t been forced to use my Protective Shell earlier. If we got past this, we sure as hell weren’t going onto that Nightmare train until it was ready.

  The metal plate rocked. It wasn’t a spell, but the creature slamming it with his arms.

  Donut: SURPRISE ONE? SURPRISE TWO?

  “What kind of creature is this mage?” I yelled down to Levi, who continued to whimper.

  “He’s a war mage!”

  “No shit he’s a war mage. What’s his race?”

  From the other side of the metal, Dismember the War Mage started to laugh.

  “War mages are war mages. That one looks like an elf,” Levi called.

  I felt two hands slap against the barrier. “I am not an elf, you fool. I just need eight more iterations, and you’ll know, Levi. You’ll know exactly what we are! Eight more trips. Seven after I get past these interlopers!”

  “Stay the hell away from me, Dismember! You don’t control me anymore!” Levi cried.

  There was an odd crackling noise coming from the other side of the wall. He’s building up a spell. A big one. We need to hurry.

  Donut: CARL?

  Surprise Two involved opening a hole and me dropping a bomb through. I still wasn’t too keen on the idea of blowing shit up inside of a moving train, especially after watching that last train wreck. With Surprise One, I wasn’t certain if a chomp from Mongo would be enough.

  Carl: Let’s do Surprise Three.

  Katia: We haven’t practiced that one yet.

  Carl: It’s not exactly something we can practice anyway.

  “On three,” I whispered, pointing to a spot on the metal.

  “Hey Dismember,” I said, speaking louder. “I want to tell you a secret.”

  “Oh we don’t have time for your secrets, you filthy crawler. Let me tell you a secret.”

  “Okay,” I said, holding up one finger.

  “After I knock this metal barrier down, I am going to send my minions in, and one of them is going to re-sleeve Levi. But they won’t bother you. I’ll have them leave you be.”

  “Go on,” I said, holding up a second finger.

  “And then I’m going to cast a spell that will peel the skin off of you and your friends. But I’m not going to kill you. I have another spell to keep you alive even after you’ve been flayed. It will be a journey of pain unlike anything that has ever been experienced in this world. I’m going to...”

  I held up a third finger.

  A hole appeared in the metal plate. Fast as I could, I reached through, grasped the surprised elf-like creature by his long, silver hair, and pulled. The moment I pulled his head through the hole, Donut snapped off the spell.

  I let go, and the severed head dropped to the ground, mouth still open wide.

  “What was that, bitch? I didn’t quite get that last part,” I said.

  A note from DoctorHepa

  Happy Monday, everybody! I hope your weekend went better than mine. Broken AC at home and a car that's about to be tossed into the abyss. I have no idea how much either are going to cost to fix, and I don't want to find out. But that's life for ya.

  Chapter 86

  Mauve Line - Station 281

  Time to Level Collapse: 7 days, 12 hours

  The moment Dismember died, the Fleshers—now “Bereft Minions”—swarmed. We continued to press the metal up against the door, and they were unable to break through. I could see the X of Dismember’s body for a few moments. It soon disappeared, presumably encompassed by one of his former minions. I didn’t know if the process required a skull to successfully convert the Flesher into a Symbiote, but at least one of the monsters was making the effort.

  Levi screamed for most of the remaining trip. “You did it! By the gods, you killed him! You son of bitches did it!”

  “He shouldn’t get too excited,” Donut muttered. “I can see a dozen other shapes in that third car who might be more war mages.”

  “It’s former crawlers, I think. I think he was building an army. He takes our skin and then uses our bones to become stock for his budding army. It’s probably some bullshit storyline we don’t have time to get involved in,” I said.

  We pulled up to the stop, and I felt the door to car number two slide closed on its own. I picked up the war mage head and tossed it into my inventory. I retrieved the two metal chocks, and we got the hell off the train before the door closed.

  We watched as the train left the station. Levi waved as it disappeared.

  Zev: Hi guys!

  Donut: HI ZEV! DID YOU SEE WHAT WE DID? WE POPPED HIS HEAD OFF!

  Zev: Yeah, that was a good one. The fans liked that line you did at the end, Carl. People want you to say your trademark line more often, though. Not too much, or it gets weird. But it’s been a few days.

  I sighed.

  Carl: What can we do for you, Zev?

  Zev: I wanted to let you know that I booked you two for a show in two days.

  Donut: JUST US TWO? WHAT ABOUT MONGO AND KATIA?

  Zev: Katia stays in the dungeon. Mongo goes in the cage.

  Carl: What sort of show?

  Zev: It’s a little drier than what you’re used to, but I’m confident you two can spice it up. It’s a program called Planet Beautiful. It’s especially popular this season. It’s not so much an interview as a narration. You’ll be going to a sound booth and reading prepared lines. It’s a news program about the current season’s planet. People are obsessed with Earth culture, and you two will be narrating a segment.

  Carl: How can we “spice it up” if we’re reading prepared lines? Also, I’m not going to read some anti-Earth propaganda bullshit. No way.

  Donut: WHAT WILL WE BE TALKING ABOUT?

  Z
ev: Uh, I’m not sure. I’ll have to get back to you on that.

  Carl: Zev. You are a terrible liar. What is the segment going to be?

  Zev: It’s about beauty pageants. And pet shows.

  Donut audibly gasped.

  Donut: WE WILL DO IT. I CAN’T WAIT.

  I was about to object, but then I realized that this would be a goddamned vacation compared to what usually happened when we went on a show. What could possibly go wrong inside of a sound booth?

  Carl: All right. We’ll do it. But I won’t read the lines if they’re bullshit.

  Donut: YAY!

  Zev: Yay!

  * * *

  Station 281 intersected with the Mauve line, the Puce line, and of course, the Dismemberment Limited. The plan was to ride the Mauve two stops up to 283 where we could catch the Nightmare Express, but we decided we’d wait until my Protective Shell reset before we hit the Nightmare. It was a long, large train, and it would be best to just clear it of mobs using my shell method and not risk whatever was waiting for us.

  We stayed at station 281, so we’d be able to hit the Desperado Club after the recap episode. Then we’d sleep, train, and head back out into the world.

  Since there were no mobs on the trains coming from the Mauve or Puce lines, we couldn’t do the stand-on-the-platform-and-grind method. Instead I wanted to train a different way. After a quick trip to the restroom, I returned to the saferoom, which was nestled inside of an all-glass storefront called J.CO Donuts and Coffee. The bopca here was a younger-than-usual guy named Nodd.

  “Hey,” I said to Nodd. “Can I get a black coffee, and I’d like to see the crafting table menu.”

  “Sure,” the bopca said, pulling it up.

  It was a long list of tables, and most of them seemed useless. Most cost about 25,000 gold each. There was everything from the generic Tinker’s Table to the ultra-specific Beekeeper Beesuit Mending Station. I scrolled until I found what I was looking for.

  I slid my last free table coupon forward. “I’ll take that one.” And then I presented my two upgrade coupons. I hesitated. Was this the right move? “And I’d like to upgrade my Sapper’s table to level three.”

  * * *

  My book confirmed something that I’d already suspected. While I could use an engineering table to shape just about any type of armor, it didn’t become a true wearable—something that could be “equipped.” I could shape something into a helmet, and I could plop it onto my head, but the system didn’t acknowledge it as a helmet. For most people, that was no big deal. That was different when it came to Katia and her race. If she couldn’t equip it, she couldn’t add it to her mass.

  If I created and shaped an item using the engineering table and then stepped over to my new armorer’s table, however, the item’s description changed. All I had to do was pull up my new Armorer’s Workshop tab, select the item, and then pick its intention from a list. For the sample helmet I made, my only choice on the list was Shitty Helmet. It didn’t look any different. But it was now titled as a helmet, and it re-sized itself—slightly—to fit either my or Katia’s head. But most importantly, she could now equip it, which added to her mass.

  I couldn’t add enchantments or build with most types of metal yet, but that was okay. I could craft simple items from scrap metal and leather that we would be able to sell.

  While reading through my book, a certain passage in the bomb-making chapter caught my eye.

 

  Comrades, you know the high-level madness satchels, the bronze tier ones with the big yield? They are not as useless as they look. Because they randomly fall into rapid de-stability and explode, they are most dangerous unless they are in your inventory, of course. But with the 15-second waiting period after removing it, it makes them almost impossible to use because they can (and do) explode during those fifteen seconds. I have discovered a solution. If you can find or build an equippable backpack, they will not lose stability as long as they are in the backpack and the backpack is equipped. This also works for other party members if you wish to give them explosives to utilize. Use with caution.

 

  There is no longer a 15-second waiting period for removing items from inventory, so this advice is mostly moot. I can confirm that backpacks do still maintain stability. They weigh you down, however, and don’t work as well as inventory.

 

  Backpacks only slow destabilization now, not negate it. Found that out the hard way. Rest well, little sister. I pray those who read this kill an enemy in her honor today. That is all we can do, no? Her name was Barkith, and she was all I had left. I feel lost, but I will persevere.

  All of that was good information, but for now what I mostly took away was that backpacks were a thing. I had an idea. I set out making one.

  While I worked, I thought about Crawler Forkith and his sister. He wrote the 20th edition, and from what I could gather, he made it to at least the 11th floor. He left extensive notes throughout the book, confirming or adding information to multiple passages. He even left instructions on how to append notes to passages, something I couldn’t figure out how to do with the scratchpad system.

  Forkith was originally a race called an Urgyle, which I gathered was a small, winged, demon-like creature. He’d kept his race upon selection. His class was Sapper. I hadn’t yet had time to read his notes at the end of the book, but it struck me how someone so different, so alien, could still be so similar to me. Some things were just universal, I guessed.

  The only one who wrote more notes was Drakea from the 22nd edition, the crawler who experienced the final Naga-run season. Drakea was both emotional and verbose throughout the book. Still, despite all of his or her notes, which dripped with absolute hatred for the Naga and the Syndicate, the crawler spoke little of themselves. Their notes section in the back of the book was only a short paragraph.

  Once lit, a fire is easier to stoke than it is to extinguish. Remember that. Fuck the snakes. Fuck the rats. Fuck them all. One day they will all burn, and while I’m certain I will be long dead, I will laugh. I will laugh long and hard, and I will be waiting for them on the other side of the veil where not even the vast expanse of stars or time will withhold my wrath. If you are reading this, friend, I pray you will join me. Side by side we will exact our revenge.

  The words, while borderline unhinged, offered comfort. Comfort I didn’t realize how much I needed.

  * * *

  “What is it?” Katia asked as I placed the large, metal box in the main room. I placed it on the stand I’d especially built for it.

  I pointed to the reinforced, dingo-hide straps. “I was going through the menu of the armorer workshop tab, and I saw backpack listed.” This was true. I’d searched until I found a feasible way to make it look like I’d just stumbled on this information.

  “A backpack? It looks like an oversized laundry hamper,” she said. “Or a giant quiver. It doesn’t seal at the top.”

  “Nope,” I agreed. “Strap yourself in, but don’t remove it from the stand. That will make it so it doesn’t disappear yet into your mass.”

  She examined it and frowned deeper. I couldn’t help but laugh. The system labeled it as Ugly Ass Backpack With a Completely Useless Design that Only an Idiot Would Wear.

  I didn’t care as long as the word “Backpack” was in there. Katia hesitantly backed into it, sticking one arm through a strap. There was an additional set of waist straps. She tied those together and then pulled her arm through the other strap.

  “This is really cumbersome,” she said.

  “I can make it bigger, a lot bigger, but we don’t know what sort of environment we’ll be fighting in. This is about as wide as I can make it and still be able to equip it in the tight aisle of a train car,” I said. “If we ever get to a wide open area, like the streets of the last floor, I have an idea for something a lot bigger.” I pulled the
long, reed-like metal pole from my inventory. This one was about six feet long, but I’d made dozens of these in multiple sizes. I dropped it into the basket.

  I talked while I loaded the backpack. “So, a while ago I found a filing cabinet in a boss room filled with stuff. I learned something interesting about the way inventory worked.” The metal poles clanked loudly as I added them to the backpack. “If you put something into a container, and then add that container into your inventory, you can pull the container out of your inventory with or without the original contents. You can even pick and choose.”

  “Carl…” Katia began as I continued to put the heavy, metal poles into the backpack. I worriedly eyed the stand, but it held. The straps would never hold even a fourth of the weight, but if this worked as intended, that wouldn’t matter. They were only there so the system called it a backpack. Still, I was worried about them and Katia’s ability to not collapse once I removed the stand. She’d been placing most of her points into Strength on Mordecai’s advice, and she was now at 49 after all her enhancements. Mordecai’s plan for her was to build up her strength as quickly as possible, and once it hit 50, put the rest into Constitution until her non-enhanced base was over 100. I noted with a small amount of dismay that she’d also been tossing points into Charisma. That was likely a result of Donut and Zev telling her she needed to be more interesting. I’d need to talk to her about that, but not right now.

  I took an armful of shorter reeds and stuffed them in. And then I poured a bunch of round balls, tiny versions of the ones I’d been making for my xistera, into the free space of the Ugly-Ass Backpack. When I was done, I stepped back to view my work. Katia stared at me helplessly. She stood there with the basket-shaped backpack over her shoulders, a dozen metal poles of various lengths sticking out of it like she was an overloaded donkey.

  “If you remove that thing holding the backpack, I’m going to tumble and fall,” she said. “I’m strong now, but I’m not that strong. And if I equip it, it’s just going to give me the mass of the backpack, not the stuff in it.”