“Let’s go get these things already. It’s taking much too long,” Donut said, hopping up and down. With her collar charm and crupper, she sounded like a bell.
“Goddamnit, Donut,” I said. “You’re a cat. You need to work on your stealth.”
The creatures paused, then they both stopped in the hallway and started moving quickly in our direction.
“See?” I said. “We need to see what the mobs are before we force confrontations.”
I stepped out, waiting for them to round the corner. Donut returned to my shoulder.
She was starting to reply to me, but she squealed in anger the moment the mobs appeared. She dug her paws painfully into my shoulder as she tensed. She fired off two rapid-succession missiles. Both of the creatures hit the ground, their health moving into the red. Barely. They got up and continued toward us snarling and snapping.
And barking.
The AI approximated a terrible Australian accent.
Danger Dingo. Level 5.
These aren’t the cute, cuddly, baby-eating puppies from the land down under. No, mate. The Danger Dingo features a stronger body, sharper teeth, and a penchant for black metal bands such as Dimmu Borgir and Satyricon. Where there are dingoes, their Kobold riders and slave masters usually aren’t far behind.
“Die!” Donut screamed, shooting two more missiles. Both of the monsters fell over, dead and steaming. She’d used 24 of her 26 mana points in seconds. She sat on my shoulder, breathing heavily.
“So,” I said, looking down at the corpses that continued their forward trajectory, sliding to a stop at our feet. “Not a fan of dogs, are we?” These guys didn’t look much like regular dingoes. First off, they were huge, about the size of mastiffs. They each had a fur pattern on their faces that looked like heavy metal corpse paint. Their fangs were absurdly long and sharp, giving them an almost prehistoric look. Both dropped “Poor Dingo Pelts” which Donut looted.
One of them also dropped something we hadn’t seen yet. A pair of gold coins. Donut snatched them away before I could examine the money’s properties.
“I must admit, I did get a little carried away there,” Donut said. With a swipe of her claw, she ripped the dingo’s head right off. She kicked it, and the head exploded against the wall. Once again, the corpses on this level were significantly more fragile once they died. I watched as she gingerly and matter-of-factly tore the corpses to shreds, careful not to get any gore on herself. She kept saying “Ew, ew, gross, ew,” as she did it. She wasn’t quite successful keeping the blood off of her, and by the time she was done, both her forward legs were soaked red.
“What happened to not wanting to desecrate a corpse?”
“Cocker spaniels deserve to have their corpses desecrated.”
“Those aren't…” I stopped myself. I wasn’t going to argue with her. She knew perfectly well these weren’t cocker spaniels. She was just playing for the camera.
“Let’s back out of this area for now.” I indicated the curved hallway. I could see a few larger rooms ahead, and I suspected we’d be knee-deep in dingoes and kobolds if we went further.
As we approached the main hallway, I didn’t see any further signs of the dingo mobs, but we did find a couple more dead grubs. And plenty more living ones. The things were everywhere, and we had to kill them by the dozens.
“There’s a safe room,” Donut said. “It’s right off the hallway.”
I looked, and she was right. It was in the wrong direction from the stairwell, but it was close.
We headed that way, edging into another quadrant. This one was filled with floating brains with tentacles tangling under them. They looked like jellyfish. They were called “Mind Horrors,” and were all level four. They used something called a psionic attack. Donut wasn’t affected at all by them, but I was. I could feel them before I saw them, their presence causing an almost debilitating headache. But they were physically weak, and they moved slowly, like little miniature blimps. I could punch them out of the sky before their mental attacks lowered my health more than a few points. Their brain-shaped bodies had the consistency of a jam-filled kickball. They bounced when they hit the ground, sometimes splattering.
I didn’t want to go further into this neighborhood, but we cleared the way to the safe room.
The room, unfortunately, wasn’t one of the restaurants with a Bopca Protector, though the chamber itself was much bigger than any other safe room I’d seen. It appeared to be some sort of storm shelter. The signs on the doors for the restrooms were in French. The television screens were attached to the walls on one end of the cavernous room. About fifty dusty cots were pushed up against another wall. There was no food, no cookies, no vending machines. Just bathrooms, showers, and sinks.
But there was something I’d never seen before. A mailbox, attached to a pole in the ground near the wall with the televisions. It was a standard black mailbox with a little red flag, the kind someone out in the suburbs would have in front of their house. I immediately moved to the box and tried to open the little door, but I received an error message.
Why would someone send you mail?
“Weird,” I said.
The number of boxes and achievements we’d received was less than usual, but I still had quite a few. Several of my battle stats had also ticked up. I sat down on one of the cots and examined my achievements as Donut did the same.
New achievement! Borough Boss!
So, you’ve stumbled into the chamber of the second-weakest type of boss. If you survive this, it means you are in the top 5% of all crawlers. Too bad only the top .25% make it past the next tier.
Reward: Yeah, no.
New achievement! Bully and a Thief!
You’ve stolen property from a fellow crawler who is a lower level than you. What’s next, tough guy? Kicking puppies?
Reward: You’ve received a Bronze Asshole’s Box.
That one confused me for a moment until I realized I’d gotten it for taking Agatha’s shopping cart.
New achievement! Battlefield Construction!
You built a structure and deployed it in battle. And your mother thought you were wasting your life away while you spent all those hours eating Doritos and playing Minecraft. If only she could see you now. Too bad she’s probably dead.
Reward: You’ve received a Silver Mechanic’s Box!
For this next one, the AI once again used his sexy voice. I cringed.
New achievement! This Little Piggy Went to Market!
Oh yeah, baby. You have killed more than five opponents during boss battles using your bare feet. You are making daddy very, very happy.
Reward: You’ve received a Platinum Shoe Box.
“What the fuck, dude,” I muttered at the ceiling. I shuddered. I eyed Donut, who was already opening her boxes. I wasn’t going to tell her about this one. Still, a platinum box? That almost made it worth it. Almost. I couldn’t wait to see what was in the “random” loot box.
A few more achievements popped up, all concerning us defeating the boss. Killing a borough boss. Killing a borough boss with a mixed group. Killing a borough boss in under 10 minutes. Killing a borough boss with more than 10 minions. None of the achievements offered any good loot except the silver boss box. After that, there was only one achievement left:
New achievement! You found stairs!
You have found a stairwell down to the next floor. They say the cream rises to the top. So what does that say about you?
Reward: This barely qualifies as an achievement. Your reward is that you’re alive to read this.
Next, I moved to loot boxes. The items appeared one by one, rapidly appearing and disappearing into my virtual bag. I went into my inventory, selected the New tab, and inspected the items one at a time.
The asshole box bestowed five gold pieces and three little pieces of paper. Drink Ticket (X3) – Desperado Club. When I examined the little red paper, all it said was Redeem at the Desperado Club for a free “drink.” I stared dubiously at the quo
tation marks around “drink.”
The silver mechanics box contained a really interesting item. A tool. I pulled it out of my inventory and examined it. It looked like a silver, oversized lollipop with a button on the handle.
The Goo-Inator 3000.
This is a shaping tool. May only be used at a workbench. Assists in shaping materials into something else. You might want to keep the business end away from your face.
That sounded pretty cool, but I wouldn’t be able to use it until I bought a personal space, which I couldn’t do until the fourth floor. For now it would have to sit in my inventory and wait.
Next up was the prize from the silver boss box. I’d received 100 gold coins and a potion.
Cheat Code Potion
Warning: This item has a short shelf life.
This item will expire shortly after it was generated. In other words, this isn’t something you can hoard. Don’t be a wuss. Drink it now.
Causes one, recently-used combat or magic-themed skill to increase by three. Choice is random and permanent.
A red, flashing timer appeared at the bottom of the description. It was down to 17 minutes and counting. Shit. I added it to my hotlist and drank.
I felt a crackling sensation in my mouth, like I’d just downed a whole packet of Pop Rocks.
Your Pugilism Skill has been increased by 3! Your Pugilism Skill is now level 10.
Damn. I had a pile of bonuses now, all relating to unarmed combat. With the combination of my Iron Punch and Powerful Strike skills, plus my unarmed combat bonus and my pugilism skill, my fists packed just as much damage as Brandon’s lightning maul. I knew the skill levels would come more slowly now, but I could probably punch a steel beam and put a dent in it.
At the same time, I knew my progress wasn’t anything special. Not compared to some of the others from the last recap episode. That Lucia Mar kid was completely decked out in magical gear. She had an obvious dexterity bonus. The kid was running on walls and doing flips and shit already, splattering monsters with her mace. The crossbow woman with the Valkyrie helmet was also crazy strong, likely twice as powerful as me. I’d watched in awe as she picked up a bear-sized, slobbering tentacle monster and threw it into the air, shooting it twice with her repeating crossbow before it exploded.
They were giving us these incredible upgrades, but I also knew the monsters were going to keep pace with our progress. And while I felt overpowered, a part of me feared I was actually falling behind.
I had one last item to examine. “Goddamnit,” I muttered under my breath. I pulled it into my hand and examined its properties. It was a little black folder with a zipper. I zipped it open, revealing multiple, miniature tools.
Enchanted Pedicure Kit of the Sylph.
This kit contains 12 essential items for proper foot care.
The magical enhancements of this item may only be imbued within a Safe or Personal Space.
Warning: All of these enhancements require you to remain barefoot.
Why? Because you know why.
From a pumice stone to a cuticle pusher, this personal hygiene kit will keep your feet both luscious and in perfect fighting shape. Nightly care of your feet and toenails will result in the following bonuses:
+15% Damage to bare-foot attacks for 30 hours.
+3 to the Smush skill for 30 hours.
+Unbreakable buff (feet only) for 30 hours. This buff keeps your pretty little metatarsals nice and unbroken.
+Celestially Nimble and Tidy buff (feet only) for 30 hours. Not only will your tootsies look nice, bright, and shiny, but any traps set off by footfalls will now prompt an alarm and have a 5-second delay before being triggered.
I sighed. That very last buff was a great prize. Other than the goblin dozer, we hadn’t dealt with any traps yet. Mordecai had mentioned them, but I didn’t know when they would start showing up. We were going to need more than just a five-second warning, but this was better than nothing.
I looked at the kit dubiously before shoving it back into the inventory. I had no idea what most of those little metal items did. Would I have to use all of them to turn the enhancements on? How long would it take? Beatrice could literally spend hours in the bathroom poking, prodding, and plucking at herself. Donut usually sat on the counter in the bathroom with her, meowing for attention. Which meant Donut had watched her do it a number of times. I was going to have to ask the cat if she knew how to use the items. Shit.
I watched as Donut trotted over to the mailbox, leap so she was standing on top of it, and then sit down as the front of the box opened up on its own. A tome floated out and hovered before her. It vanished as she added it to her inventory.
“What the hell was that?” I asked.
She poofed her chest out. “Thanks to that boss box, I am now a member of the Dungeon Book of the Floor Club. I get one spellbook per level, which is mailed to me.”
“What? Really? That’s way better than what I received. What book did you get?”
Instead of answering me, her body flashed with light. She’d read the book, giving herself the spell.
“Ew,” she said after a moment. “What an awful spell. We really need to save these book things instead of wasting them.”
“Goddamnit, Do…” I caught myself. “You know this. You have to read the description before applying it to yourself. What is the spell? What does it do?”
I couldn’t examine her spells, so I had to rely on what she told me. I knew she had four spells, not including this new one. She had the heal spell everyone started with, Torch, Magic Missile, and Puddle Jumper, which she’d only tried once. She also had a tome of Minion Army she couldn’t yet read, and I had that tome of Wisp Armor.
“It’s called Second Chance. It costs 10 mana to cast. I can raise a monster from the dead. It has to be a lower level than me. They will fight for us for as many minutes as the spell’s level. The level is one, so it’ll only last for a minute.”
“Holy crap,” I said. “That’s badass. It’s a necromancy spell!”
“It’s disgusting,” Donut said. She shuddered. “The dead are gross enough. It’s much worse when they’re moving around. It probably groans and stuff, too. You know how I feel about groaning.”
I had a quick memory of being slashed at once while Bea and I were getting busy. It wasn’t very funny at the time, but we’d laughed about it later. Donut had gotten banned from the bedroom during sexy time after that. She’d howl at the door, and we’d have to put music on to drown her out.
“Whatever happened to killing them with style?” I said, trying not to laugh.
“One doesn’t have to resort to gore-themed violence in order to be stylish.”
“Yeah,” I said. “But imagine raising one of those dingoes back from the dead and using it to kill another dingo. And then raising that one too. You’d be like the Lucia Mar kid with her two dogs, but yours will be zombie dogs.”
Her eyes got huge. “This is the best spell ever.”
31
Brandon and crew were still bringing people into the safe room as the next episode premiered.
Right when the show started, the timer finally ran out. The world rumbled, and the ground under my feet shook. The shaking lasted but a second. I stopped and gazed at the number on the television screen. It flashed, going from just over two million to 1,292,526.
More people had made it down to the next level than I expected. Still, those numbers. Those goddamned numbers. I wished we didn’t have to look at them. In that brief moment, as I helped push a woman—her name was Elle McGibbons—in a wheelchair into the storm shelter, over 700,000 people died. A third of the remaining crawlers. The first floor had claimed a little more than 10 million people.
“Thank you, honey,” the woman said as I rolled her to the others. “Can you put Divorce Court on the television? My Barry used to watch that show. It reminds me of him.”
“I don’t think that show is on anymore, Mrs. McGibbons,” I said.
“That’s ok
ay,” she said.
Above the number with the remaining crawlers, the countdown to level collapse blinked a few times then reset. Six days and counting.
“Six days?” Brandon said, coming to stand beside me. “Mistress Tiatha had said it would be ten.”
“Yeah, our guy said the same thing,” I said. “At least we know where the stairs are this time.”
As the scenes of carnage played out on the television—they were showing a man and a woman running from a three-headed baboon—I took stock of the room.
We’d only gained six more residents from the Waffle House safe room, meaning 24 of them had elected to stay behind. I thought about that for a moment. Good for them, I decided. They’d gained a measure of control in those last few moments. They went out on their own terms. Brandon said they’d all been singing when he’d last seen them.
Agatha remained missing. Chris sat in the corner, his head low. He might’ve been crying. I wanted to give the man space. Imani and Yolanda worked their way around the residents. Yolanda helped them to the bathrooms while Imani handed out crawler biscuits.
Donut paced the floor in front of the television screen, waiting for the second half of the program. We wouldn’t be able to watch Odette’s show, and we still didn’t know if we’d get any airtime on the main program.
“After everyone sleeps, I was hoping to get your help with something,” Brandon said.
I already knew what he was going to ask.
“You’re going to send them all down the stairs to the third floor early.”
“Yes,” he said. “They can’t train, so there’s no point in keeping them here.”
“What about you?” I asked. “Your levels need work.”
He shook his head. “We talked about it. All of us are going to go down. We’ll take our chances on the third floor. We don’t want to risk getting separated.”
On the screen, a woman screamed as her arm was bitten off by a monster that looked like an eggplant with teeth.
Dungeon Crawler Carl Page 24