The creature was 10… no… maybe 12 feet tall.
There’s no other way to describe it except to say that it had a bodybuilder’s physique in a humanoid form, but with webbed wings and the head of a pterodactyl. Its spotted green and brown skin rippled with veiny musculature.
As I stared at it wide-eyed, an info box flashed above.
Pukeodactyl. Level 9.
He’s the life of the party, but, apparently, he drank too much. Better watch out. His barf is worse than his bite.
“His barf?” I read aloud.
I glanced at the ISSN feed in my HUD. Apparently, my boss fight was being live-streamed to gazillions of eyes.
Unmute.
“Oh, buddy, here we go!” Blink exclaimed with glee. “Looks like our human warrior, Sam, has finally met his match—his first boss fight with the terrible, Pukeodactyl!”
“You know, I gotta say… I’m gonna miss having the little bugger around,” Gill said with a somber face. “Ah, who the hell am I kidding? Let’s watch him die!”
Mute.
I could imagine the betting dens going crazy. Shifty-eyed goblin bookies, snatching handfuls of credits from eager bettors who couldn’t wait to see me get crushed by this thing.
The Pukeodactyl bounced back and forth on his feet, as if waiting for a round to start. I heard background music—a synth-heavy, chip tune. In any other scenario, I would have actually dug the track. It was quite catchy.
I noticed pixelated icons of my face and the Pukeodactyl in opposing top corners of my HUD, next to our health bars. His was nearly twice as long as mine. A small versus symbol separated the two.
“Alright, Pukey… let’s see what you got.”
I snatched my pizza cutters, raising them into a fighting stance. They whizzed to life. Then, a strange, deep-voiced narrator barked a single word that echoed inside my head and splashed across my HUD:
”FIGHT!”
As if unpaused, the Pukeodactyl flapped its wings three times, opened its mouth, and emitted a terrifying shriek.
BRAAAACK!
A flaming wave of projectile vomit launched right at me.
“HOLY CRAPOLI!”
I leaped out of the way, easily clearing the attack with the enhanced hopping capabilities of my armor. I landed 15 feet to the left. I glanced at the ISSN feed. Blink and Gill were both reacting with shocked faces.
[ME] Whoa! Yeah, that’s right, your boy ain’t gonna be that easy to take out.
[ERNI] I suggest you focus less on your reputation and more on your survival.
[ME] Yeah, yeah, I hear ya.
The Pukeodactyl flapped its wings, flying in my direction. It landed with thunderous force, cracking the sidewalk below. The shockwave knocked me off my feet. On my back, it prepared its second attack, flapping its wings three times and opening its mouth with another shriek.
BRAAAACK!
It fired another round of flaming puke. I rolled out of the way as it scorched the street instead. Mere feet away, I could feel the blazing heat permeating through my armor.
[ME] Jesus, that’s hot!
[ERNI] Indeed. A direct strike could prove catastrophic.
[ME] And, God, it stinks! What the hell did that thing eat?!”
I looked at the puke on the sidewalk. As the flames rescinded and the bile steamed, I could see undigested chunks of rotten garbage.
“Gross.”
The Pukeodactyl started to flap its wings again. By now, I had already identified its pre-strike pattern: flapping its wings three times. As any seasoned gamer would tell you… study your enemy, find the patterns, spot the weakness, and look for an opportunity to strike.
I thought Toxic Fart Grenade, and one appeared in my hand. I pulled the pin and lobbed it at the creature.
Toxic Fart Grenade Deployed! 2/3
KA-BOOM!
It collided against the monster’s massive pecs, exploding into a plume of green gas.
+1 Direct Hit!
AAAACK!
The creature squawked, falling onto its back.
Again, the ground cracked from impact.
I looked at the creature’s health bar. The grenade had dealt 25% damage. Still, it had three-quarters of its bar remaining.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
If it bleeds… I nodded, remembering a quote from one of my favorite movies.
I leaped through the air, arcing downward toward the fallen creature, pizza cutters thrusting forward. The monster was faster, flapping its wings and shuffling out of my landing path. My pizza cutters struck the ground. The metal blades whirred, spinning up sparks and bits of concrete as it carved two deep grooves into the ground.
“Crap!”
The monster stumbled back to its feet—or claws, or whatever the hell those things were.
ARR, ARR, ARR!
It taunted, waving a spindly, bat-like finger in my direction, shaking its head.
“Why, you mother—“
BRAAAACK!
This time, it unleashed a sustained rope of fire right in my direction without its pre-strike, flap sequence. I was caught off guard, but managed to duck in time. I tumbled out of the way as it aimed the fire spray down to where I was crouching.
“Clever bastard,” I said, rolling back to my feet. “You broke pattern.”
ARR, ARR, ARR, ARR!
The creature clutched its stomach and laughed haughtily.
I used the opening, leaping with such speed that it wasn’t prepared. I landed two diagonal slashes across its torso. Purple blood sprayed as the creature wailed in pain. Another 25% dropped from its health bar. It was half green and half red now.
“Who’s laughing now, beak breath?!”
The Pukeodactyl hissed, small poofs of flame flaring from its nostrils.
“That’s it. Come on, big boy!” I said as we circled one another.
It flapped its wings three times. I leaped out of the way. This time, the creature flew into the air and smacked me with one of its wings. I landed hard on the concrete.
“Ahhhh!”
Even with armor, my health dropped by 25%. I was pissed now. I tightened my grip on my pizza cutters the same way I might have tightened the grip on a controller had I been playing one of my games back home.
“Okay. Okay.”
I had underestimated the creature. I had been playing checkers, and he was playing chess. But what he didn’t know… was I was a badass at chess, too.
He opened his mouth again and unleashed another blast of fire. This time, I was ready. I raised the pizza cutters in an X pattern in front of me. The auto shields flared to life, repelling his flames directly back at him. The fire struck him right in the face, causing him to cease his attack and squeal at an unearthly pitch. He only had 15% health remaining. His health bar was flashing red now.
New Trophy! Counterpuncher.
Reward: Mass Deflection Play Pack.
+1 Critical Hit.
The Pukeodactyl shook its head. The flames extinguished, and molten flesh dripped from its face. I could see part of its exposed skull. It switched into a dancing defensive routine, shuttling back and forth with its pterodactyl wings covering its body like a vampire, occasionally peeking its head above the protective rim of its wing shield.
I hopped toward it again, slashing the pizza cutters through the air. The monster ducked, sending me right over its shoulders. I landed hard, and it spun, spinning its wings, sweeping me right off my feet. I landed hard on my side, taking another 25% damage—down to 50% now.
The creature raised its wings and brought down a spiky claw. I guarded with the pizza cutters, deflecting the blow with the shields. They must have emitted a shock because the creature howled and backed off, down to 7% now.
I did a kip-up back to my feet.
[ME] Holy crap! I’ve never been able to do that before!
[ERNI] Congratulations.
I had tried that maneuver a million times back when I took karate. Once again, the augmented leg strength of my armor was proving super effective. I was so pleased with myself, I almost got my head knocked off as the creature swung its wings around again. I ducked just in time and performed a reverse cartwheel, landing once again on my feet.
“Enough of this.” I gritted my teeth.
[ME] You want flashy? I’ll give you flashy.
I sprinted toward the monster, feigning left and right, ducking low, and then unleashing a hellish uppercut swipe with my right pizza cutter. The spinning blade entered his abdomen, zipping straight up to the top of its head, spinning at such speed that it sliced the creature in two. A geyser of purple blood gushed as the creature slumped over in two halves, dead.
Pukeodactyl Defeated!
Objective Completed: Defeat Boss Monster.
Flashy Kill Bonus: +25,000 Points.
New Trophy! Uppercut Above the Rest.
Reward: +5% Striking Power.
I stood there, gasping for air, suddenly realizing just how out of breath I was.
Would you like to loot Pukeodactyl?
“Yes.”
Item Acquired: Stank Dragon Breath.
Item Acquired: Flap Attack Play Pack.
Item Acquired: “I’m A Boss” Tattoo.
Item Acquired: “Boss Beater” T-Shirt.
The notifications flashed and cleared my screen, and suddenly, I was standing in front of the scoring zone, unimpeded.
I pulled the Slayer Orb out of my rucksack and stepped through the green, shimmering holographic ring. Immediately, the Slayer Orb disappeared. A series of fireworks popped in the air. The circle flashed green three times and dissolved.
Two giant words splashed across my HUD:
Orb Down!
+100,000 points.
New Trophy! First Orb Down.
Reward: Framed Boss Battle Memory.
Item Acquired: “This Guy Knows How to Score” Wall Pennant.
Suddenly, my map was empty, devoid of any symbols, though I could still hear ongoing battles in the distance. I peered again at the ISSN feed.
Unmute.
“Despite unbelievable odds, human contestant, Sam, has defeated his first monster boss and scored his first Orb Down! Of course, this comes as a shock to many, as you can see from our fan reactions,” Blink narrated.
The screen flashed to shots across the multiverse of disgruntled viewers slamming claws and fists down on tables, chucking their snacks, tearing up betting slips. The screen flashed to a live shot of Dom Blady in the middle of his own battle alongside Rod and Jess. He turned to camera.
“What do I think about the kid’s first score?” He punched an alien-walrus creature in the jaw, knocking it out cold.
“Good for him. But, nobody brags when they’re dead. He’ll find out soon enough.”
The screen flashed back to the ISSN studio, where a slack-jawed Gill, stood at a loss for words.
“Uh… Gill, heh—we’re live, buddy,” Blink poked him in the side.
“Right, right,” he snapped out of it. “I guess congratulations are in order?” he said, tearing up his own betting slip.
Mute.
I took a knee. My adrenaline was subsiding and I suddenly felt all of the pain stored up from the fight. My neck felt like it had been struck with a baseball bat and my side felt bruised from shoulder to shin. Fortunately, my health gauge was already improving, rising faster now, according to my increased healing capabilities.
“Congratulations on your victory,” ERNI said. “To score a single Slayer Down is a statistical rarity and an accomplishment worth celebrating.”
“Thanks,” I grunted, clutching my ribs. “Right about now I’d celebrate it with a chiropractor if I could. How are my stats looking?”
ERNI flashed them on screen:
Rank: 4,397,853
Points: 215,000
Fans: 27,955
Sponsors: 0
“Whoa, okay… Almost 28,000 fans. Not bad.”
“For comparative reference, Don Blady has approximately 6 trillion fans.”
“Well, aren’t you just a bundle of sunshine and rainbows.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”
“Well, it’s just… I understand the need for empirical data and keeping me updated, but every once in a while, you gotta ease up on the hard truths.”
“Deceit isn’t in my programming.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know you’ve told me. I’m just saying… if a guy has a girl and she asks, ‘Does this dress make me look fat?’ You don’t tell her the truth. You bend the facts a little, so that you don’t hurt her feelings and get yourself into trouble. Does any of this make sense to you?”
“No.”
“Right. Let’s move on.”