《Prepper's Dungeon》 Prologue: A Fresh Start. I leaned back into the car seat once more, trying to distract myself from the fact I¡¯d lost reception on my phone. A sea of trees could be seen outside the window. An unending tide of brown and green that stretched out from the corners of the dirt road and far beyond the mountains in the distance. ¡°Where are we again?¡± ¡°Dunstonberry.¡± My uncle replied, casually dodging the question. ¡°That name isn¡¯t on any maps Uncle Uter. My phone was telling me we were in the middle of nowhere before I lost service.¡± ¡°Northern Ontario is hardly the middle of nowhere.¡± Aunt Cherryl repeated. ¡°It¡¯s a beautiful land with a rich culture.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve literally counted seven hours since the last time we saw a gas station.¡± I countered. ¡°That, and we¡¯ve spent those seven hours on a dirt road. I¡¯m surprised a bear hasn¡¯t come out of the woods looking for a snack.¡± ¡°Bears are shy creatures.¡± Uncle Uter assured me. ¡°Besides, we¡¯re in very big car. I don¡¯t think we have anything to worry about.¡± Aunt Cherryl turned her head to gaze into the back of the van. Smiling at she looked at us. ¡°Cecil, dear. I understand it¡¯s a big change. Its normal to be a little anxious about the whole affair. Maybe a little nap would help? Eva seems to be doing fine.¡± I gave my cousin a sideways glance. If she was worried about our new home, it didn¡¯t show. Her sleeping face was a mask of tranquil happiness. Soft breaths soundlessly going in and out. Looking closer, a line of drool had fallen from her open mouth to fall her clothes. ¡°I¡¯m not nine anymore auntie. I don¡¯t think I can fall asleep as fast as she can.¡± Uncle Uter stifled a laugh. ¡°Of course you can¡¯t. Hey Cherryl, leave our big man alone. Don¡¯t you know he¡¯s already fourteen? He¡¯ll be the one driving before long. He¡¯s too old to take naps in the car.¡± ¡°Probably for the best.¡± She piled on. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t want him falling asleep on the wheel. Big boys need to stay alert and brooding or they wouldn¡¯t look all cool and mysterious.¡± I felt a blush creeping onto my face and tried to hide it by squirming deeper into my seat. ¡°You guys are awful and I¡¯m not brooding. This whole thing is suspicious. Why do we have to move out to some town in the middle of nowhere for a promotion? Why would any company want to have their main offices out in the middle of the woods?¡± ¡°The town is named after them dear. I assume this is where it started.¡± Uncle Uter nodded. ¡°It¡¯s a growing family business. Makes sense that they wouldn¡¯t want to expand just yet.¡± ¡°I looked them up online! Dunston Corp is a global mining business! They literally have no reason to keep an office up here!¡± I hesitated before continuing. Knowing that Uncle Uter knew what I was about to say, and that my concerns had already been dismissed. He¡¯d explained it all away as rumours and gossip. Ignoring everything I¡¯d said and pointed out. Regardless, I had to try. ¡°People say bad things about them. About the¡­ secrecy. Some people say they bribe the government to stay away from their town. Other people say that it isn¡¯t a town at all. That it¡¯s the compound of a cult. They say Mr. Robertson is a crazy conspiracy theorist that thinks the world is ending. That him and his family do all sorts of weird stuff in their compound. That¡¯s why there¡¯s no internet and why the town doesn¡¯t show up on any maps.¡± My eyes searched for the rearview mirror. Uncle Uter¡¯s reflection rolled his eyes. ¡°Right. Tell me again Cecil. Who are these people? Are they provincial police? Plaintiff¡¯s suing Mr. Robertson for some crime or another? Paparazzi?¡± He made a rude noise. ¡°People will say anything about anything. That¡¯s how the internet works. I bet they¡¯d be saying the exact same thing about us if we had that kind of money.¡± Aunt Cheryll place a hand on her husband¡¯s thigh. He stopped. Tensing slightly, before relaxing once more. ¡°That said, there are things we haven¡¯t told you yet.¡± ¡°I knew it!¡± Aunt Cheryll shushed me. Pointing at Eva. I lowered the volume of my voice. Leaning forward so the two of them could hear me. ¡°I knew there was something fishy about all this. You two spent weeks talking about the promotion before accepting it. You wouldn¡¯t have done that if there wasn¡¯t a catch.¡± ¡°We would¡¯ve spent weeks discussing it anyways. Moving is always a big decision and grown-ups have to take a lot of things into account before committing to it. Including the welfare of their kids.¡± Aunt Cheryll¡¯s face sported an appeasing smile. ¡°Still, there were, other factors to consider. Mr. Robertson is¡­. His family are¡­.¡± ¡°They''re preppers.¡± She finished for him. I, didn¡¯t know what that was. ¡°Is that some weird cult?¡± Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°No!¡± Uncle Uter protested. ¡°And make sure you don¡¯t talk about it in that way. Preppers aren¡¯t a cult.¡± ¡°Most of the time.¡± Aunt Cheryll corrected. ¡°There were criminals in the seventies and eighties that did questionable things. That much is true. My company is not like that. We have a finger on every continent except Antarctica and we¡¯re at the forefront of developing greener mining technologies. There¡¯s nothing criminal going on.¡± ¡°What¡¯s a prepper?¡± I insisted. Feeling a surge of panic washing over me. ¡°They¡¯re people who believe the world is ending.¡± I stopped, going from fearful to confused in the blink of an eye. ¡°The world is ending. Global warming¡¯s been proven for decades. It¡¯s a real thing.¡± ¡°Not like that. They think it¡¯ll end due to a nuclear exchange or something.¡± ¡°I¡­ I mean, its possible? Why is that a problem?¡± ¡°Its not.¡± Uncle Uter said briskly. ¡°Mr. Robertson is a billionaire. With a B. If he wants to spend his family¡¯s fortunes on high-end bunkers then that¡¯s his business. We shouldn¡¯t judge the man for his personal beliefs unless they involve illegal activity. Which they don¡¯t.¡± ¡°How do you know that?¡± ¡°Because he¡¯s filthy rich Cecil. Why would he need to do shady things to his own employees if he¡¯s already filthy rich?¡± ¡°I can think of a few reasons.¡± ¡°Well, stop thinking about them. We¡¯re going to a normal town to do a normal job. You¡¯ll attend a normal school and have a normal education. Better yet, you¡¯ll be eligible for some pretty fat scholarships as long as I¡¯m working this job. So, you and Eva will make sure to study hard and make the most out of this opportunity.¡± ¡°Is that why you took the job?¡± ¡°That, and it came with a house.¡± ¡°A HOUSE!¡± ¡°SHHHH!¡± ¡°Sorry, sorry. Its just. Man, I know I¡¯m fourteen but¡­ I talk to my friends you know? Housing prices are, not exactly cheap anywhere. How did you manage that?¡± ¡°For your information, I happen to be a very good employee.¡± ¡°Good enough to justify a free house?¡± ¡°I sure hope so, because our old landlord was raising rent far past what we could afford.¡± Oh. Oh. That. Explained a lot. I felt a rush of shame overpowering me. Stemming form all those times I¡¯d seen uncle Uter and aunt Cheryll struggling without saying anything. They must have had been under a lot of stress if this was our best option. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± I said meekly. ¡°I¡¯m sure you had to work really hard to get this job. I promise I won¡¯t say anything about Mr. Robertson or his bunkers.¡± ¡°Thank you, Cecil.¡± Aunt Cheryll answered. ¡°It¡¯ll be easier than you think. You¡¯ll see. Give it a few months and it¡¯ll feel like any other place.¡± We drove in silence for the next few hours. Uncle Uter had to stop the car when we ran out of gas and he went to the trunk to retrieve the spare canister. The forest outside was still as imposing as ever. The leaves fluttering endlessly as the daylight fled. The shadows under the canopies seemed deeper, somehow. As if the darkness had grown even darker. I almost expected to see some deer or a moose walking out of the woods. It would have made sense, given that this was their home. Nothing came out however. The whole forest was silent as the grave. I tried to peer deeper into the vast nothingness. Hoping to make out a bird or some other animal. My eyes found the branches baren. Completely bereft of squirrels or birds of any kind. ¡°Hey, is this normal?¡± I asked, feeling like an idiot as soon as the words left my mouth. ¡°What is dear?¡± ¡°The forest. Is it supposed to be this empty?¡± She barked out a laugh. ¡°Cecil. Dearie. The forest is anything but empty. Just look at how much of it there is. You¡¯re probably not seeing animals because all the animals are off doing their own thing kilometres away.¡± She was probably right. I was about to put my headphones back on when I felt the car shake slightly. Before I could say anything, uncle Uter threw himself back into his seat. Slamming the door behind him and putting his whole weight on the pedal without putting on his seatbelt. The car roared like some terrible beast. Pushing forward so quickly that the force made me sink into my seat. ¡°Uter? What¡¯s wrong?¡± ¡°Not now Cheryll! Need to drive!¡± ¡°Uter? Uter, why are you making that face? Is it a bear?¡± ¡°I SAID NOT NOW!¡± Eva woke up. Startled by the sudden noise. ¡°Dad? Mom? What¡¯s going on?¡± ¡°Not now sweetie. Go back to sleep. It¡¯s all good. We¡¯re going. Its all good.¡± I turned around, trying to figure out what had spooked my uncle. The street was empty. As were the surrounding trees. ¡°What did you see?¡± ¡°Dammit Cecil! I need to focus on the road! Shut up and let me drive!¡± I sealed my lips in the face of his outburst. Whatever it was that he saw, it had rattled him to his core. Better to leave it for the moment so that he could focus on keeping the car on the road. The engine was much louder now than it had been moments earlier. A glance outside showed me that the trees were passing us much faster too. I craned my neck to see the speedometer. My eyes bulging as soon as I took the numbers in. ¡°Holy cow! Are we supposed to be going that fast!?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll take a ticket over that thing any day. Also, shut up. I¡¯m driving.¡± Aunt Cheryll was trying to calm down Eva who was starting to sob amidst all the chaos. I turned my head once again, hoping to catch an errant glimpse. No good. Whatever he¡¯d seen was long gone now that we were practically flying. Uncle Uter didn¡¯t ease up on the pedal though. He kept his foot firmly planted on it for another half hour. Stopping only once a man-made structure became visible in the distance. It was a gate closing off access to the road beyond it. With massive searchlights on the roof and metal fencing on either side. Even then, he didn¡¯t hit the brakes. Instead, he took his foot of the pedal so that we slowed down naturally as our momentum kept pushing us forward. He would glance at all the mirrors every few seconds. His eyes bloodshot and open so wide I feared they might pop out at any second. ¡°What did you see?¡± His wife asked him. ¡°An animal.¡± He said brusquely. ¡°What kind of animal?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. It was big. That¡¯s all. I have no idea what it was. I¡¯m not in any hurry to find out. We¡­ I¡¯ll tell the authorities about it when we get to the gates.¡± He did exactly that once we¡¯d finally come to a full stop. Going to a booth inside the gate to talk in private with three muscular men. Surprisingly, all three had shotguns on their hands as they walked. Four of their co-workers stayed behind to talk to us. Asking my aunt what it was that we¡¯d seen. ¡°I¡¯m telling you I don¡¯t know. One moment we were talking about the forest and next thing you know my husband¡¯s spe¡­driving at the speed limit to get us here. He didn¡¯t tell us what he saw.¡± One of the men, the one with the big red beard, gave his coworkers a quick glance. After which, they stepped back and turned to face the deepening darkness. ¡°Don¡¯t worry ma¡¯am.¡± He said stiffly. ¡°We¡¯ve had some run ins with wildlife around these parts. Its relatively normal.¡± ¡°My husband¡­¡± ¡°Hasn¡¯t seen a real wild animal in all his life.¡± A bald man cut in. ¡°We¡¯ll take care of things out here. Don¡¯t you worry.¡± ¡°How do expect me to not worry when we just¡­¡± ¡°Ma¡¯am. I get it. You¡¯re tired. You¡¯ve been on the road all day. You feel sore and irritated. Its fine. Whatever it was that you saw, we¡¯ll handle it. That¡¯s what the guns are for.¡± Wow. Way to cut someone off man. You definitely didn¡¯t come across as a creep telling my aunt to shut up. On the one hand, I was furious that he¡¯d try something like that on us when we were obviously right to be scared. On the other hand, these guys did indeed have guns and we were stuck in the literal middle of nowhere without internet or cell reception. Probably best to keep our complaints to ourselves for the time being. Aunt Cheryll must have agreed, because she nodded slowly. Keeping her eyes on the men while remaining silent about the way they¡¯d spoke to her. Looking down, I realized that she was holding Eva¡¯s hand. Tightly clutching her tiny fingers. I added my own hand to the mix and gave a tight squeeze. ¡°It all good.¡± I told Eva. ¡°We¡¯re very close to the town. This is just a security thing to make sure nothing bad gets in.¡± She was silent, but nodded. Uncle Uter came back a few minutes later. His face was beet-red. Like a bright balloon about to burst. He got in the car once more and moved us forward. Passing the gate without another word. ¡°Uter? Dear?¡± ¡°I got his employee Id. Its fine. I¡¯ll put in a complaint with Human resources in the morning.¡± He kept his silence past that point. Stewing in his own anger until we reached the town. Chapter 1: Getting settled. Chapter 1: Getting settled. The house was certainly, unique. The walls were thick. Clearly made of stone instead of wood like the other houses I was used to. The front porched was fenced off with steel wires instead of wooden planks and the door was made of steel. So heavy that it took me some effort to get it open. The windows were weird as well. Too thick for it to be normal glass and built in such a way that it wouldn¡¯t open. There were two floors above ground. The first one containing a garage, three closets, a small study, a kitchen, a lounging area and a washroom without a tub or shower while the second one contained three more bedrooms with attached washrooms for each one. It looked small and humble. Especially once you compared it to the water tank right next to it. A solid monstrosity that was easily twice the size of the building people were supposed to inhabit. The rest of it was below ground. Deep below ground. Accessible through two separate staircases, both of which were sealed by thick, steel doors of their own. One inside the house and another one located some ways off by the side. To my surprise, there wasn¡¯t just one or two, but three basement levels. With wide corridors connecting the rooms within to the stairs leading up. All of them were bigger than the surface rooms, with thick stone columns in the middle and steel doors separating them from the hall outside. There were five washrooms, one for each of us and an extra one in the first basement floor¡¯s hallway. All of them were lavish, with a big tub and a separate showering area. We had six bedrooms below ground to deal with as well. Two of which were unfurnished and on the second-deepest basement floor. Since my aunt and uncle would be sharing a room, that left a total of nine unused bedrooms in the whole house. Making me question the arrangements. ¡°Are we sure this is our place?¡± ¡°This was the address they gave me.¡± ¡°Yeah. I get that. But over half the rooms are going to be empty. That and I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯m not supposed to have a king-sized bed?¡± ¡°They all have king-sized beds.¡± ¡°I know. That¡¯s why I¡¯m worried. Are we supposed to share with another family?¡± Uncle Uter sighed. Looking straight at me with a weary expression. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I did ask and my manager assured me this was our place and no one else¡¯s. Its possible that there was some mix up, but there¡¯s nothing I can do about that right now.¡± ¡°Did he tell you about the game room downstairs? Or the gym?¡± ¡°No. He didn¡¯t.¡± ¡°What about the whole warehouse on the bottom?¡± ¡°He didn¡¯t say anything about that either.¡± ¡°Did anyone say when we¡¯d get our WIFI installed?¡± ¡°A worker should be coming by tomorrow.¡± ¡°What happens if they come by tomorrow and tell us there¡¯s been a mistake?¡± ¡°Then we move to the other house they give us.¡± ¡°What if there isn¡¯t another house?¡± ¡°Then we will head back the way we came and I get a hold of a very expensive lawyer. The contract has been signed and these accommodations were listed as a signing bonus. My name is already on the deed. Any funny business is not going to go their way.¡± That was something, at least. Our first night was an uneventful one. I slept like a log. Sore all over from spending so much time stuffed in the car. The next morning saw us putting the rest of our belongings in their proper places. I set up my PC in my room, one of the three upstairs, and our console in the upstairs lounging area. I was just starting to relax when Eva came strolling by. ¡°I want to play.¡± ¡°You can play once I¡¯m finished here.¡± I said offhandedly. ¡°I want to play now!¡± She insisted. Sitting next to me and holding her hand out for the controller. ¡°I¡¯m playing right now. You can have it once I¡¯m done.¡± ¡°I want play with you though.¡± I stopped, looking at her in surprise. Her sandy-blonde locks were in shambles, as always and her big green eyes were staring up at me. Pleading. ¡°What brought this on? We never play together anymore.¡± ¡°I know. I want to play with you now. Dad says I¡¯m not allowed outside for some reason and mom¡¯s too busy to do anything with me.¡± ¡®I can think of a few reasons.¡¯ I thought, recalling uncle Uter¡¯s face last night. ¡°You know what? You¡¯re right. Let¡¯s play some Dario Cart for a while. We can watch some movies after the internet guy shows up.¡± Eva smile brightly. Her missing tooth making her even more adorable than normal. We played for an hour. Then two. Then three. We played so long that I switched games and handed her the controller so she could play by herself while I wandered around the kitchen looking for a snack. The shelves were full of canned goods. Enough cans and beans to last us several lifetimes if someone did drop a couple of bombs. Not that such an event would hurt us anyway. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. This town was so small that no one would even think to bomb it and so remote that whatever befell the big cities would hardly impact us anytime soon. ¡®Wait, are they expecting a zombie apocalypse?¡¯ Nah. There¡¯s no way anyone would be that delusional. Especially not some old billionaire with enough money to just give out houses. ¡­ ¡­ ¡°Uncle! Has anyone in your company said anything about zombies!?¡± ¡°What!? I can¡¯t hear you! Come closer!¡± I was about to go over to him, when the doorbell rang. ¡°Oh good. That¡¯ll be the internet guy.¡± I opened the door, struggling slightly with its weight. Behind it was a young girl. Maybe a few centimeters shorter than me. She was wearing a denim jacket over a pink shirt, coupled with a pair of dirty jeans. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail by way of a bright yellow ribbon and her big brown eyes stared up at me with a mix of excitement and mischief. ¡°Sorry to say. I am not the internet guy. I¡¯m Elsie. Your new neighbor. Here to see Mr. Fowler.¡± An impish grin blossomed on her face. ¡°I wasn¡¯t told that Mr. Fowler was so young.¡± ¡°I¡­yes. My Uncle. That¡¯s who you¡¯re looking for. I¡¯ll go get him.¡± ¡°Now hold on. There¡¯s no need to hurry. Daddy says he doesn¡¯t start until next week anyway. We don¡¯t need to bother him right now.¡± ¡°Uh, right. Okay. What can I help you with?¡± She snickered. ¡°You can help me by coming along on a little adventure, new kid. I can¡¯t wait to show you around.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯m allowed to leave the house right now.¡± Her snickering turned into melodious laughter. ¡°One day in and already grounded? Oh boy. That¡¯s not a good look new kid. Daddy isn¡¯t going to like you. Although¡­¡± She leaned in closer, making step back in surprise. ¡°Me and my friends could use the company.¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not in trouble. I¡¯m not going outside because there¡¯s something in the woods.¡± ¡°Of course there¡¯s something in the woods, silly. It¡¯s the woods. That¡¯s where animals live.¡± ¡°I meant something other than animals. My uncle saw it last night. He won¡¯t talk about it but I¡¯ve never seen him so scared before. You probably shouldn¡¯t be out here either.¡± ¡°Oh? Are you worried about me?¡± ¡°Yes. I¡¯m worried about anyone walking out in the open right now.¡± Her smile widened. ¡°I don¡¯t know about that. I feel pretty safe. In fact, I don¡¯t think there¡¯s anything out there capable of hurting me.¡± ¡®Then you¡¯re way dumber than you look.¡¯ I thought to myself. Bears were many things, but picky wasn¡¯t one of them. I also knew that they could basically sprint up trees; meaning a flimsy fence wasn¡¯t likely to stop them. ¡°You¡¯re thinking something rude, aren¡¯t you new kid?¡± ¡°No.¡± I lied. ¡°I¡¯m just thinking about my own life and how I would really like it to be long and uneventful.¡± She laughed in my face. She laughed so hard that she stumbled backwards into one of the columns on the front porch. Leaning against the solid stone as she struggled to breathe. ¡°Man! You are not in the right place new kid! Not at all!¡± I narrowed my eyes. Sensing more than meaningless teasing. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°I mean what I said. This is not the place to be if you¡¯re going to be a pacifist locked inside the house all day. The schooling is going to be different. Way different. You¡¯re going to have to get your hands dirty at some point. Or else.¡± ¡°Or else what?¡± The grin was back. Taking over her face like some parasite. ¡°I guess you¡¯ll find out when you come to school, won¡¯t you?¡± With that, she sauntered off. Walking merrily away without looking back. ¡°Or, you could follow me and find out today? Just a thought. Unless you¡¯re too scared of what your uncle will do.¡± What was she, five? Like that was going to work. I wasn¡¯t afraid of uncle Uter. I did, however, trust him enough to be afraid of whatever had spooked him. Exploring the wilderness when there was a threat nearby was how people earned Darwin awards. If Elsie wanted to risk her own neck, then she was more than welcome to do so. I liked to think I was smarter than that. I closed the door just as uncle Uter was coming over. ¡°Did they leave already? How long is it going to be?¡± ¡°It wasn¡¯t the internet guy. It was some girl, around my age, I think. Looking to see who had moved in. I think she knew about you but not about me.¡± ¡°Who was with her?¡± ¡°No one. She came by herself.¡± His eyes widened into saucers. ¡°By herself!? And you let her go out there!?¡± I was taken aback by the suddenness of the outburst. ¡°What was I supposed to do? She left by herself!¡± Uncle Uter cursed. Flinging the door open and running out into the yard. When he didn¡¯t find her, he ran out into the woods. Calling out to the trees for anyone nearby. When that didn¡¯t bring her out, he stepped into the car and reversed out of the gravel driveway. Honking his horn over and over again as he sped out and onto the dirt road. ¡°Where¡¯s dad going?¡± Eva asked as she came closer. ¡°I think he¡¯s going to try and head to the town center and tell people about the girl.¡± ¡°What girl?¡± ¡°The one who was just here. She said she was a neighbor.¡± Eva turned to me. Making a sulking expression. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you come to get me? I wanted to say hi to the neighbors too!¡± I shrugged. ¡°She was weird anyway. You didn¡¯t miss much.¡± ¡°How was she weird?¡± I stopped to find the right words. ¡°You know that scary movie you watched when you thought I wasn¡¯t looking? She talked like the old man in the beginning.¡± ¡°She said we we¡¯re going to die?¡± Eva asked, suddenly terrified of this spectral new girl. ¡°No.¡± I chuckled. ¡°But she did say we needed to get our hands dirty out here and that this wasn¡¯t a good place for pacifists.¡± ¡°What¡¯s a pacifist?¡± ¡°Someone who doesn¡¯t fight.¡± ¡°But we¡¯re not supposed to fight. Aren¡¯t we all pacifists?¡± ¡°And that, Eva, is why you¡¯re smarter than Elsie. She¡¯ll be getting a talking to from her own parents while you get to sit inside the air-conditioned house playing super Dario.¡± We ended up waiting another two hours before uncle Uter got back. He was fuming once again. His face so red that I feared steam was about to come out of his ears. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose we got any good news?¡± I asked. ¡°The worker in charge of installing our router was indisposed today and he won¡¯t be available for another week. I¡¯m supposed to come to the office tomorrow to get some documents and do some training. You¡¯re both coming with me too. The school is close to the office and the teachers there want you kids in there tomorrow.¡± ¡°What about the girl?¡± He bristled. ¡°Her father thanked me for my concern. According to him it shows a deep moral fiber and depth of character. The exact attitude that will take me far in the company. I was also informed that she was perfectly fine and that I shouldn¡¯t let her little adventures bother me. The man was one of Mr. Robertson¡¯s grandsons so I left it at that.¡± One of my eyebrows rose. ¡°It sounds like they were rude to you.¡± ¡°Not overtly. No. They did look at me like I was around Eva¡¯s age though. I¡¯ll have to change a few attitudes around here during my first few weeks.¡± He sighed deeply. Deflating as the air and anger left in unison. ¡°That¡¯ll be a worry for another day. For now, I decided to buy us some pizza. To let some of the tension out.¡± ¡°Pizza!¡± Eva cheered. Coming over to hug my uncle and looking around for the promised prize. ¡°Its in the car sweetie. I¡¯ll bring it over in a bit. Go wash your hands first.¡± She bolted for the sink without another word. Leaving me alone with my uncle. ¡°Cecil, I¡­¡± He paused, unsure of how to continue. ¡°I think I¡¯m being lied to. I don¡¯t have any proof or any reasonable cause to justify it, but that¡¯s what it feels like. The town, it was empty. There were maybe four or five people in the whole place. Most of them old enough to be my parents.¡± ¡°Is that weird for a town out in the sticks?¡± ¡°Very. The population here is supposed to be around four thousand. That¡¯s not a lot, mind you, but its definitely not supposed to be this empty. Besides, there are too many buildings and too many houses sitting empty. That pizza came from one of the only two restaurants in the whole area.¡± ¡°It better be some damn good pizza then.¡± ¡°I¡¯m serious. Cecil. Something¡¯s bugging me.¡± ¡°You know, we could just, leave? There¡¯s nothing keeping us here and the car¡¯s fine.¡± He paused for a few moments, before sighing once more. ¡°That would mean¡­ I can¡¯t. Things were worse than I was letting on before now Cecil. I didn¡¯t have much in the way of savings and everything was getting more expensive. This car¡­it¡¯s a company car. I¡¯d lose it. And the house. All at once. Without anything to fall back on. We¡¯d be on the streets without a job and nowhere to go.¡± ¡°Then let¡¯s not do that.¡± I said hurriedly. ¡°Let¡¯s have the pizza now and worry about it later. We can stay inside for the most part, so neighbors shouldn¡¯t be a problem. As for what you saw¡­¡± ¡°It was a dog.¡± He said at once. So fast that I wondered if I¡¯d misheard. ¡°A dog? Is that it?¡± ¡°Or a wolf. I don¡¯t know. It was¡­big. Twice as big a me. With four eyes instead of two and six legs.¡± A shiver crept up my spine. ¡°Maybe you saw two wolves close together? It was dark out in the woods.¡± He nodded slowly. ¡°That¡¯s exactly what they told me at the gate. And over at that girl¡¯s house when I made my way over there. Funny that. Its such an obvious answer that anyone could have thought of it. But somehow, I can¡¯t bring myself to accept it.¡± ¡°Jeez uncle. You need to stop. You¡¯re gonna jinx us to oblivion and back with the horror movie clich¨¦s.¡± Chapter 2: Induction. Chapter 2: Induction. Me and Eva got out of the car together, waving goodbyes to uncle Uter as he drove off. I turned to look at the school. Taking in the sheer size of it. Every student in town supposedly went there. Regardless of age. So one half would hold classrooms for first graders all the way up to eight graders, while the other would hold classes for everyone else. Several other kids were standing around the front of the building when we arrived and all but a handful stopped dead in their tracks to stare at us. Some were as old as me or slightly older looking while others were even younger than Eva. None of them were wearing any kind of uniform, though most had shown up in some combination of jeans and loose shirts. There was a whole lot of whispering going around. As if we were a circus act making it into the town for the first time ever. I wanted to ask some of them what they found so interesting, but decided against it for the moment. I didn¡¯t want my new classmate¡¯s first impression of me and Eva to be that of standoffish city kids looking down on them. Especially not when there were so few of them to talk to in the first place. Being singled out at this point would probably mean social suicide going forward. Worse, Eva could wind up being bullied. No. Better to suck it up for now and find a few agreeable peers later. I took Eva¡¯s hand in mine and made for the large double doors. I gave them a tug and faltered. Letting out a confused oomph as I lost my grip. ¡°Is the door closed?¡± Eva asked innocently. ¡°I, I think so. It has to be. Let¡¯s wait until a teacher comes to open it.¡± A wave of snickering surrounded us. I turned around to see the Elsie, the girl from yesterday, stifling a laugh next to some other girls. ¡°Its not closed.¡± She said. ¡°You¡¯re just too weak to open it.¡± ¡°Sure I am.¡± I retorted. Struggling to keep a straight face. ¡°You¡¯re not even gonna deny it?¡± ¡°Why bother? After all, you¡¯re here. I know that someone as strong as you could open the door without a problem.¡± She smirked. Looking me up and down as if I were a prize hog at a farmer¡¯s market. ¡°Sure thing new kid. Sit back and watch.¡± I stepped over to the side, fully expecting her to pull out a key or something. Instead, she merely placed her hand on the doorhandle and pulled. My jaw hit the floor. ¡°Wow! You¡¯re really strong!¡± Eva cheered. Meanwhile, my brain was going into overdrive. Trying to find some way to explain what I¡¯d just seen. I hadn¡¯t been able to see how thick the metal behemoth had been from the outside, but it was all out in the open now. The slab was easily two times thicker than the already monstrous doors of our new house. In fact, looking closer, it might even be two and a half times as thick. Forget stopping intruders, this thing looked like it could stop bazookas with casual ease. And she was holding it open. Not only that, she was making it look easy. ¡®Is this the famous farmer kid strength? Holy cow! What does she eat?¡¯ ¡°Well? Are you going in new kid?¡± ¡°I¡­uh¡­I¡­¡± ¡°Come on Cecil! She¡¯s holding the door for us.¡± Eva dragged me through the opening. Stopping only to smile up at Elsie. ¡°Thank you for opening it for us!¡± ¡°No problem sweetie pie! I love helping people out! Especially cute little things like you!¡± Eva giggled and went on her merry way. Running off to a beckoning teacher waiting by a nearby office. I paused to look at Elsie. My gaze moving down to her arm. Her thin arm. It was slenderer than mine. ¡°How?¡± All the other kids outside burst out laughing. ¡°Family secret. New kid. Don¡¯t worry. We¡¯ll let you in on the secret soon enough.¡± ¡°Can you sound any more menacing?¡± I blurted out in spite of myself. ¡°Of course I can. This is me being nice. Come one, lets get to class. I have a feeling today will be a date to remember.¡± ¡®This is you being nice!? Lady! What do you look like when you¡¯re trying to be intimidating!?¡¯ ¡°Come on Elsie. Stop harassing the new kid.¡± A bigger boy called out. Elsie rolled her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m only having a little fun. Marco. Its fine. Not like this¡¯ll matter in a couple of hours.¡± ¡°What¡¯s happening in a couple of hours?¡± I asked, trying and failing to keep shivers from running down my spine. ¡°We¡¯ll be having PE class early.¡± ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± ¡°Our PE class can get a little intense.¡± I looked back at Elsie. She winked but said nothing more. The rest of the locals started to come in one by one after that. Not quite filling the wide hallway due to how few of them there were. It didn¡¯t take long for me to notice the weird discrepancy between them and me. ¡°Hey, why are none of the older guys coming in?¡± ¡°I told you, new kid. We¡¯re having PE today.¡± ¡°Stop calling me new kid. My name is Cecil.¡± ¡°Right. Sorry man. I¡¯m a little out of it today. We don¡¯t usually get new blood around here I¡¯m Marco. You¡¯ll probably be on my team since we¡¯ve been short one person for a while. That right there is Ramji and that¡¯s Drew next to him.¡± Ramji was a shorter guy. Lean, yet muscular. With dark skin, dark hair and brown eyes. He looked nervous for some reason. Pacing back and forth on the pavement. Drew was the complete opposite. She was pale, with bright green hair cresting atop her head. Her body was leaning against one of the light posts outside, her face scrunched up as she fiddled with some device on her arm. It looked like a tablet that had been stretched to from a thin bracelet. Worn in such a way that it covered over half the forearm without reaching the elbow. Looking around, everyone else had that exact same device too. I was about to ask about it when a large balding man with overflowing muscles stepped around the corner. His widow¡¯s peak accentuating the few remaining tufts of auburn hair atop his head. A think tank top covered his torso. So stretched that I feared the straps around his shoulders might rip at any moment. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. It was dirty too. Stained with sweat and other things I couldn¡¯t place. ¡°All right. Everything¡¯s set up at the entrance. Rudy and Phoebe, you¡¯re with me. Extra laps for the incident last week. Mark and Tracy, you¡¯ll be doing stretches while your teammates finish their laps. Elsie, you¡¯ll be running with them today. That stunt with Mr. Fowler wasn¡¯t well received. I¡¯ll show you the new course once we get there.¡± He paused to make sure all those he¡¯d mentioned knew their assignment. After that, he nodded once and raised his head to yell. ¡°Everybody on the bus! Now!¡± His regular students moved along with gusto while I remained behind. ¡°Come on man. We have to get on the bus.¡± ¡°For PE class?¡± ¡°Yes, for PE class.¡± ¡°Where are we going?¡± Marco didn¡¯t answer. Silently moving with the flow. I followed him and Elsie, climbing aboard a nearby bus with the rest of the students. We travelled half an hour on the paced road. Moving through streets so empty that they wouldn¡¯t have looked out of place in a disaster movie. Traffic was nonexistent too. I couldn¡¯t see any cars on the road aside from the bus we were taking. A detail that made me singularly uncomfortable for reasons I couldn¡¯t place. ¡°Where is everyone?¡± I asked Ramji. ¡°At work. Duh. Where else are they gonna be?¡± ¡°Nobody works downtown?¡± ¡°Not right now. It¡¯ll be peak raiding season for another couple of weeks.¡± I looked up at the sky. ¡°Its not raining. Its not even cloudy.¡± ¡°I said raiding season, not¡­you know what. Forget it. You¡¯ll see when we get there.¡± ¡°Raiding? What are we Vikings? Are we going to build a wooden boat and go out to sack Lindisfarne or something?¡± Ramji sighed. Looking more and more exasperated with every passing second. ¡°Just¡­be patient, ok?¡± I looked at him. Considering his casual demeaner. None of the others seemed the least bit bothered about the trip or the lack of people either. So, I kept my silence. Looking out the window until the bus screeched to a halt. I followed the other students as they filed outside. In front of us was a truly gargantuan edifice. Easily three times bigger than the already massive school building. The tank top wearing teacher moved in front of us, taking a deep breath before speaking. ¡°Right then. We¡¯re here. Now, most you will have heard of our new student. Mr. Cecil Fowler, please come forward.¡± I did as I was bid. Going over to where the teacher was and standing in front of the others. ¡°Okay. Mr. Fowler. Cecil. Can I call you Cecil?¡± ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°Right. Cecil. How much do you know about the building behind me?¡± ¡°Nothing? I only came here two days ago and this is my first time out on the town.¡± ¡°Fair enough. How much do you know of these?¡± He pulled one of the black tablet-like bracelets from his bag. Handing it over to me so I could take a closer look. ¡°Nothing at all. Is it some kind of monitoring device? I know some watches track your heartrate and stuff. Is it like that?¡± ¡°Sort of like that. Here, allow me.¡± The teacher fiddled with the device and it turned as flat as regular tablet. ¡°You right-handed or left?¡± ¡°I¡¯m ambidextrous.¡± He grunted and placed the thing on my left forearm. Touching a button before letting go. The machine, which had been solid mere moments before, turned into a gooey liquid. The new substance wrapped itself around me, completely engulfing half my forearm in such a way that it clung on tightly without feeling restrictive. ¡°Neat.¡± I said. Sincerely impressed at the technology. ¡°Wait for it. Its not done.¡± The screen blinked to life. Showing the time as well as the temperature like a regular phone would. It also showed my current heart rate, blood pressure, and a step counter, along with an estimate of stress levels and a calorie counter. ¡°Good. That¡¯s working. Touch the button over there on the right.¡± My finger found the right button. Pressing it made the current information recede and allowed new numbers to take their place.
Name: Cecil Fowler
Core: None
Level: 0
Vitality: 1
Endurance: 1
Potency: 1
Precision: 1
Fortitude: 1
Skills: None
¡°Uh, what is this supposed to be?¡± My question brought about a fresh round of snickering from behind me and I turned to see Elsie pointing my way. She had one arm wrapped around another girl¡¯s shoulder, covering her mouth with her other hand as if it would hide the source of the mockery. The teacher didn¡¯t look like he was going to do anything, so I did instead. ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡± ¡°Nothing! Nothing! Its just¡­we¡¯re all very excited to see how you react.¡± ¡°React to what?¡± The musclebound man put a hand on each of my shoulders and turned me so that we were facing each other. ¡°Right. Listen to me Cecil. I¡¯m going to tell you a few things. All of it is true, but I understand if takes a while to set in.¡± "Okay?" "Magic is real. Its like background radiation that makes weird stuff happen when it gets too concentrated. Monsters are real too and they¡¯ll be coming out of dungeons like that one.¡± He pointed to the structure and its overbearing metal doors. My eyes went over to the aperture. Then back to him. "Coach, I don''t think pulling a prank like this is appropriate for someone in your position. I mean, the others behind me, I get. They''re all trying to haze the new city kid. Really, I do get it. I was expecting something like this. But not from a figure of authority. ¡°This is not a prank Cecil. The CEO, Mr. Robertson is a Regressor. He built his company and towns like this one to train up a few generations of superhumans in a safe environment. Once the first mass outbreaks happen, it¡¯ll be up to us to keep the wider world from collapsing.¡± "Okay, this isn''t working for me coach. You need to dial it back a little and start class already." "I''m telling you. This isn''t a prank and this isn''t a joke. You''re going to have to fight now. We''ll take you down into the dungeon so that you can start raising your stats and getting familiar with monsters." "Uh, no? I am definitely not going anywhere with you. Stranger danger and all that. No offense. I doubt you''re a predator and I doubt you''d be doing your stuff in front of an audience if you were. But I do not feel comfortable going to a second location with you." Coach Homer looked down on me. He sighed and brought his hands up. Grabbing me and lifting me up with casual ease. That was when my rising unease turned into full-blow panic. My heart hammering inside my chest like a thunderstorm across a roiling sea. This man, had picked me up. Had restrained me. In broad daylight. None of the others had done anything about it. In fact, some of them were snickering. ¡°HELP!¡± I yelled out. ¡°HELP! SOMEBODY!¡± The man continued talking over me, saying words that didn¡¯t reach my ears. This was too much. I had to leave. I had to run. I had to tell uncle Uter and Eva. I had to get them back to the car. ¡°¡­and that¡¯s why you have to train hard and build a decent core. Once you have it you¡¯ll¡­You¡¯re no listening are you?¡± He sighed, grabbing both my arms and lifting me up like a ragdoll. ¡°Rodney! Gerald! Open the gates! Tracy! Get him his armor and weapons from the pile!¡± The others followed his instructions without complaint. Helping the brute in whatever it was that he had planned for me. He walked inside the darkened hall without missing a beat. Taking me along for the ride. ¡°Marco! Ramji! Drew! You¡¯ll be his new team so it¡¯ll be up to you to train with him during his first few fights. I¡¯ll only step in if it looks like somebody¡¯s about to get hurt.¡± ¡°Yes sir.¡± Marco said. Accentuating his words with the enthusiasm of a depressed fast-food worker. The four of them walked down a set of spiral stairs, not caring about my thrashing. I kicked the man. Striking him as hard as I could. He didn¡¯t show any discomfort whatsoever. In fact, my feet hurt more and more after every blow I landed. ¡°You might want to stop before you break your foot Cecil. Tracy¡¯s a healer but you shouldn¡¯t rely too much on her until after you¡¯ve formed a core.¡± ¡°SHUT UP! LET ME GO! HELP!¡± ¡°Man, he¡¯s got a pair of lungs on him.¡± ¡°Be quiet Marco. You¡¯re not making things better.¡± ¡°I mean, it¡¯s a good thing. Shows that he¡¯s got guts you know? Oh, speaking of guts, there¡¯s a Ripper around the corner.¡± ¡°Great.¡± The madman released me in such a way that I landed on my feet. I took the chance to kick him between the legs, hoping that would stun him until I managed to escape. For his part, he didn¡¯t even flinch. Instead, I fell down on my side, clutching my leg as tears welled up at the corner of my eyes. ¡°Man, we really need to figure out a better way to do this.¡± ¡°Not now Drew.¡± ¡°I mean, look at this guy. Couldn¡¯t we have sat him down at the caf¨¦ and walked him through the process?¡± ¡°Nah, remember that one guy with the mohawk? He was saying yes, he was nodding, acting all cool. Next thing you know he¡¯s jumping out the bathroom window.¡± Ramji retorted. His voice flat and devoid of concern. ¡°Oh yeah. You¡¯re right. What happened to that guy?¡± ¡°Eaten by bears.¡± ¡°Damn. We really need to get better fences man. That¡¯s wild.¡± ¡°Okay, first of all, the fences are just fine. They¡¯ve got barbed wire. You seen what barbed wire does? Its not an issue. The problem is that the guy made it over the barbed wire. Somehow. He was on his own after that.¡± ¡°You won¡¯t get away with this!¡± I bellowed. ¡°You¡¯re all going to jail! You¡¯re all going to¡­¡± My next words died in my mouth. I was looking at¡­ I don¡¯t know. It was big. Bigger than the musclebound kidnapper behind me. With four eyes that shone with blue fire from within the shadows. Four legs sprouted from its torso, with another two connected to its hindquarters. Shaggy black fur covered its whole being, with faint rust-coloured spots near its jaws and front claws. Two serpentine tongues left its maw as it stepped closer and closer. Licking around its exposed fangs and around its triangular snout. Most alarming of all was the sound it made as it moved. Or rather, the absence of it. It had no smell either, despite the trail of intestines hanging of one of its rear claws. ¡°Marco. Ramji. Break its legs.¡± The two students moved, quick as lightning. So fast that their outlines were naught but blurs to my eyes. Two snapping sounds echoed across the chamber, followed by two more. The thing in shadow bit at the air. Its maw jaws snapping at the spots where the blurs had been. It cried out in pain and rage. Making such a high-pitched noise that I feared my eardrums would burst. The man in the tank top didn¡¯t seem to care. Instead, he shoved a spear into my hand and pushed me towards the beast. I retreated, moving on instinct. Trying to get as far away from the monster as possible. The man shoved me forward once more, saying words that didn¡¯t penetrate the racket the wolf-thing was making. I turned to look at him, ready to beg for m y life, when he calmly pointed at the monster and made a gesture around his neck. His meaning was clear. I wouldn¡¯t be leaving so long as it continued to live. My feet were trembling, as were my hands. My teeth were clattering inside my mouth. Rattling like freaking maracas. ¡°Please. I can¡¯t¡­¡± Marco grabbed my hand, keeping it steady. Without another word, he brought me closer and closer to the snarling abomination. He thrusts his hand and brought mine along for the ride. The sharp steel tip embedded itself into the thing¡¯s throat. It gurgled, choking. And then it fell limp. Chapter 3: Listening. Chapter 3: Listening. I was walking down the stairs. Going deeper and deeper into the pit with every step. My grip on the spear was so tight that my hands had gone numb, yet I didn''t dare loosen it. ''The moment I let go is the moment a monster pounces on me. I must not let go. I must not let go. I must not let go.'' "You know, the new guy''s doing really well. Are we sure this is his first time?" Marco asked casually. "Should be. I haven''t seen him before today." Ramji answered. "Its probably because we''re here." Drew countered. "I mean, we are giving him free wins." "No, its not just that. Usually people start to break down around these parts. Its the stress you know? It gets to them. New guy''s handling it like a champ. I think he''ll get a lot of training in today." "I hope so man. I''m really tired of being the only group with three people." "Eh. It''ll be fine. Not like the first outbreak''s happening anytime soon." "No, but we''re missing a lot of training as is. France''s team just got to level 2 and Elsie''s about to reach 3. At this rate, it might be months before we catch up to everyone else." "Its not that bad." Drew assured him. "Besides, levelling isn''t a sprint. Its a marathon. Isn''t that right Coach Homer?" "Correct." The musclebound man declared. "It will all be fine so long as you don''t lose sight of your goal. Cecil here is doing fine so far. In fact, I''d even go so far as to say that this is one of the better runs I''ve seen from beginners. Especially once you consider the fact that, unlike you, he''s starting out without a core. Your parents did much of the heavy lifting in their youth so you could be born at level 1. None of you have any notion of what its like to be without magic. To be truly mundane. Every single one of you had an intrinsic advantage over Cecil. The fact that he''s doing this well is nothing short of praiseworthy." "Oh yeah. I hadn''t thought about that." Drew commented. "That has got to suck too. He can''t even read the magic in the room." I wanted to say something. To scream at them for their callous disregard of human life. Yet I couldn''t. My brain was still processing all of this. The fact that magic was real. The fact that these yokels were real, honest to goodness superhumans. The fact that monsters were not only real, but that they''d be a part of life from now on. ''Coach cult leader said that the monster apocalypse was coming. He said something about a Regressor? What even is that? How do they know its coming? How did they get superpowers?'' I had too many questions and too few answers. Worse, I was constantly pushing them out of my mind in order to focus on the here and now. Desperately trying to stay alive and kicking. After all, the lighting in the tunnel was very dim as the light posts being few and far between. The wolf-things could and would make use of this fact. Slinking away into corners or behind stone pillars in order to ambush us. Well, ambush me. For some reason they always seemed to know which member of the party was the weakest, regardless of where in the formation I was. ''Maybe they can smell the fear. Maybe they know I''m nowhere near as confident as these guys behind me. Shoot. I have to get out of here. I have to make it back in one piece. These guys have Eva and Uncle Uter somewhere. I need to warn them. I need to tell them about the monsters. I need to get out of here with them. We need to tell the police. The RCMP. The regular army. People need to know.'' "Hey Cecil, we''re about to run into a pack of Rippers. You might want to get back and let us do our thing first." "A pack!?" I asked incredulously. "As in, more than one!?" "Oh yeah. Way more than one. Its actually really lucky that we''ve seen loners so far. These ones usually come in threes at least. We usually see twenty of them at once on the lower floors." "There are lower floors!? How does anyone survive that?" I choked out. The four of them stopped dead in their tracks. Looking at me as if I''d said the sun was pink. "You, um, weren''t paying attention to Coach Homer back on the surface were you?" ''No, I was too busy trying to escape from all of you.'' Thankfully, I was smart enough to keep my mouth in check. "I''m afraid I must have missed it. I''m sorry. Please remind me." "Okay." Coach Homer started. "Ramji and Drew, go over there and weaken the Rippers ahead of us. Marco, stay here and help me explain." The two of them nodded and went deeper into the cave without another word. Coach Homer turned his head to face me. His eyes meeting mine for the first time since we started our journey. "First of all, magic is real. No, it isn''t like the movies. We cannot swing a stick and make all our problems disappear. The reason behind this whole operation is that our founder, Carlyle Robertson, is a Regressor. The man lived through the apocalypse once, became powerful enough to go back in time and decided to lay the groundwork for a more effective resistance. Are you with me so far?" ''You''re nuttier than squirrel poo.'' Is what I thought. "Yes, of course. Please keep going." Is what I said. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. "Excellent. Now, the way magic works is sort of like a bio-chemical reaction to radiation. With normal ionizing radiation like, say, gamma rays, you get tumours and other mutations stemming from the breakdown of your DNA and RNA sequences. Continued exposure leads to continued degradation until your cells start dying and replicating in ways they shouldn''t. With magic, your body acclimates. It processes the background energy to supercharge all the cells in your body in different ways." "So, superpowers?" "Sort of. Your body takes in the magic slowly, soaking it in little by little. Eventually, a threshold is reached where it becomes an intrinsic part of you and each threshold after that only serves to improve upon your first. That''s why your Analyzer has a level counter. Those stats you see underneath are modifiers. They''re at one because, without any prior training, your body''s basic functions are being multiplied by one. That is, they don''t change. Active training will slowly increase your stats as your body gets forcefully acclimated to magic faster. Level 2 will double the modifiers and level 3 will triple them. That means that someone with all stats at 1 will be twice as strong, twice as fast and twice as tough as a regular human at level 2 and six times more powerful than a regular human at level 3. Meanwhile, someone with all their stats at, I don''t know, 5, will be ten times as powerful as a baseline human at level 2 and three times that at level 3. Still with me?" "Yes, levels. Like a video game." Marco burst out laughing. "Man! Get a load of this guy! Dude sees the Analyzer and thinks we''re playing around." "No. Not like a video game." Coach Homer''s face grew stern as the words left his mouth and I feared some manner of corporal punishment was coming. Instead, he kept on talking. "A normal human that sits back and relaxes when the amount of atmospheric magic increases will likely not form a core when they reach level 1. If they do, it''ll be a basic one. Something like [Fire], [Cut] or [Strength]. They still get skills, but their magic will be limited in scope." He shook his head as if the mere thought of it disappointed him. "Going without a core means being locked in to level 2 at the absolute maximum and having a basic core means being capped at level 3 with very few skills available. Skills are, essentially, your magic powers. The better your core is, the more you have and the greater their variety and versatility gets to be. This is why the first level is the most important, despite it not doubling or tripling your body''s capabilities. You need to get all your body''s statistics as high as possible so that you form the best core you possibly can once you reach level 1. Again, I literally cannot overstress how important this is. Whatever you get will not only impact you, but your entire bloodline for generations to come." "My bloodline? You mean my kids, why would they..." "Because children inherit their parent''s core. All the Robertsons have the [Knowledge] core. The same one Carlyle Robertson first developed. A core is more than a means to wield magic. Its your legacy." He was about to say something else when Marco interrupted him. "Okay, okay. Forget about the fancy words and the weirdness of the magic. Think of it in terms or trading cards right? You wanna have a deck filled with five star, SSS rank uberpowered cards, but you gotta put in the effort to scrounge around for each individual card in the deck first. Otherwise you end up with a bunch of one star cards that won''t win you any games. That''s sort of what we do here. We put in the effort to make the best cards. Does that make sense?" "No. That makes no sense at all. Am I a card? What does this have to do with a legacy?" Coach Homer coughed into his hand and signalled for Marco to step back. Marco shrugged and leaned against the right railing attached to the smooth carved wall. "Right. Forget everything he said. Let''s say that two people get to level one after the monsters break through and they later want to start a family. If neither parent has a core, the children start at level 1 without a core. Forever trapped by a ceiling they cannot surpass. If only one of their parents has one, that''s the one they get. If both parents have one, they have a fifty-fifty shot at either." "Okay? So its like genetics?" "More or less. My father was one of the first people Carlyle recruited and I got my core from him. I started my life at level 1 with a 5th stage core. Which means I was quite literally born with an advantage over the vast majority of humanity." He lifted his tank top to show a shining red gem atop his heart, with crystalized tendrils that spread down to his stomach. "This core is called [Conditioning]. It gives me all the skills available to the basic cores: [Strength], [Dexterity], [Constitution], [Intelligence] and [Effort]. I am currently level 8, one of the highest in the world right now. Chances are good that I''ll make it to 10 or 11 before I die of old age. With luck and hard work, I might even make it to 12 or maybe even 14." He sighed blissfully. As if contemplating a distant dream. "My worst stat was at 6.3 when I reached level 2. Try to wrap your mind around that. Think of how strong I am now. How much more I can do compared to a normal human. That''s what''s on the line for you here. That''s what you stand to gain." "Yeah right." Marco scoffed. "Your skills literally boost your growth rate. You telling him that is like a steroid fiend telling a new weightlifter to get good. No way he''s going to get anything close to that." The big man gave him a sideways glance. Unspoken words floating between them. "Sorry. My bad coach. Anything is possible if you put your mind to it. Don''t listen to me new kid. Sky''s the limit." Coach Homer lowered his shirt. Placing his hands on his hips. "I did not exist in the original timeline. Nor did any of my students. According to Carlyle, less than 7,000 individuals worldwide managed to get an advanced core. Of those, only 41 were above the 3rd stage. The governments monopolized and misused the dungeons, making it so that no one could train effectively until it was too late. Can you guess what happened when the outbreaks got worse?" "A lot of people died?" "No. Humanity itself died out. All in a matter of decades. The survivors simply weren''t strong enough to look after themselves and the generations that followed couldn''t improve themselves past the ceiling." I listened and understood. Sweating bullets as the implications washed over me. "You''re trying to take over the world. You''re waiting until its all over while building up an army of superhumans." Coach Homer''s features twisted into a snarl. "We aren''t trying to control the world Cecil. We''re trying to save it. The governments of earth had their chance and they blew it. We can''t allow that to happen again. These first few decades, this prelude Carlyle gave us, have made all the difference. There is hope now, where there hadn''t been any." His features softened then. His face growing impassive. "We have a chance this time. We can suppress the original outbreak and train up more people the right way. This town isn''t the only one of its kind. Carlyle has set up shell companies all around the world and maneuvered them over all the dungeons he knew about. Our organization will be the shield of humanity. The ones who will keep our species from dying out. This period is critical precisely because the following generations will not be able to grow past the limits we reach. There have to be many of us because only us stand a chance." I didn''t say anything at first. Taking the time to absorb the words I''d just heard. "Even if what you''ve told me is true, how would Mr. Robertson have survived to know all of this? He''s, what 89? He would have to live another few decades to know what''s coming." "He did." Coach Homer replied. "Your vitality would have been at 1 when you first entered the dungeon. That alone would have meant a normal human lifespan. Each additional point doesn''t double your life expectancy, but it does go up. Him surviving until his hundred and forties in the original timeline is the norm, rather than the exception. You might live even longer, if you get a good core." Okay. Okay. Keep calm. Stay very calm. Breathe in and out again. In and out. "Why us?" "I beg your pardon?" "I asked, why us? Why would you take us into your little operation. If what you''re telling me is true, you should''ve been looking for hardcore veterans or, Olympic athletes or something. Why bring my family into this? Why even bother with me?" "That''s an easy one. The town is about to grow. We''re going to be taking in more people now that the foundation is more or less secure. More people with advanced cores means better odds for the human species as a whole. Your family is among the first of the new wave of immigrants." "You didn''t answer my question though. Why us specifically?" Marco shrugged. The coach stayed silent. Not saying a word for several seconds. When at last he spoke, his voice was even as still water. His words measured and carefully chosen. "Consider it, a stroke of luck on your part. Be thankful and do your best with the opportunity." Chapter 4: Going Down. Chapter 4: Going Down. The three Rippers died without issue. My movements were stiff and mechanical. My body turning and lunging like some puppet. Dancing every time someone else pulled y strings. It made me angry. Resentful Afraid. Yes, that was it. Out of all my emotions, it was the fear that won out time and time again. Fear of the dark and of the things hiding within it. Fear of my captors and their superhuman prowess. Fear of the future Coach Homer had predicted. Uncle Uter had said the town didn''t have that many people. How were we supposed to stop an incoming apocalypse? Even if the town doubled or tripled in size, it wouldn''t mean much on a global scale. Not to mention the fact that information would leak eventually. How would these guys react if government spooks showed up to take them to secret labs? Did they have an in with the Canadian government? Some kind of mole or political backer? The more questions I asked the dizzier I became. That dizziness led to mistakes. A wrong step here, a near miss there. Nothing major so far, but still more than enough to put me on edge. "Hey Cecil. You might want to slow down and catch your breath." Drew told me. In a tone that carried the slightest hint of worry. "Yeah man. You don''t look so good." Marco agreed. ''I''d like to see how you two would look if you were suddenly kidnapped and held against your will.'' I thought bitterly. Thankfully, I still had enough common sense to keep my words polite. "Thank you. How long am I allowed to rest?" "Uh, until you''re ready to keep going?" Drew answered. "Coach, we don''t have a deadline, right?" "No. Today we dive as deep as we can and then we do some coordinated exercises once we''re there. The aim is to familiarize Cecil with the ins and outs of your cores and your skills. As well as to get him used to the dungeon''s first few floors. Like you said, its not a sprint. Its a marathon." He was nodding solemnly at his own words. Almost as if they contained some great wisdom. "He can rest for five minutes. Then we keep going." "Five minutes?" I said, despite myself. "We''ve been marching for hours!" Marco laughed. "Man, we''ve only been down here for half an hour. It seems like more because you''ve been killing Rippers non-stop." Ramji explained. "Yeah, this is nothing. You should see the pace we normally go at. This whole part takes two to three minutes tops. We usually don''t even stop running to fight the Rippers. Up here they''re weak enough that we poke them and move on." I looked around for confirmation. Hoping against hope that it was some sick joke. No one was laughing. "Five minutes." Coach Homer repeated. "Use the time to explain your cores and what to expect from them. You don''t have to explain your skills if you don''t want to, since the tournament is so close." "Right on coach." Marco sat down on one of the steps, bidding me closer. I winced, feeling a powerful soreness in my limbs, but sat down anyway. "My core is [Giant]. Its a fourth stage core that lets me use skills from four other basic cores. [Strength], [Constitution], [Sturdy] and [Grow]. You can expect me to take big hits and hit back harder. You probably got the whole growing into a giant thing from the core''s name. I can do that, but I can also make other things grow. Here, watch." He picked up a pebble and balanced it on his fingers. Then he whipped his hand back and threw it down the descending stairs. The small pebble grew into a boulder after he''d thrown it. Landing with a resounding BOOOM! "It''ll get smaller again in a few minutes." "Marco, that''ll be two day''s detention for property damage." Marco looked back at the coach, opened his mouth and closed it again. "Yeah, I kind of had it coming. Sorry coach." "Right." Ramji said, sitting to my left. "My power is that I''m super charismatic. Everybody trusts everything I say and everybody thinks I''m super handsome." This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. "Three days detention for lying to your teammate." "What! Eh! I''m not lying!" "Two more days for lying to me." "Eh! That''s not fair!" Drew was on her knees. Cackling maniacally in the corner and doing her best not to fall. "You so had that coming." "No I didn''t!" Coach Homer gave him a pointed look. "Okay, so maybe I simplified things a little. Big deal. Its more or less true." "Exact name of the core and exact description found on the library''s records. Now." "Jeez! Fine. I get it." He turned to face me. "My core is [Dominion]. And it does do what I said, Sort of. Kind of. Against certain monsters and people. Some of the time. Its a 4th stage core. I can use skills from the [Fear], [Charm], [Tame] and [Boost] cores. Think of me as a buffing specialist, with a little bit of monster wrangling sprinkled in. The monsters have to be weaker than me though. Or it has to be only one at a time. Or they have to be close to dying anyway. Or seriously messed up." "Drew, your turn." "Right on coach. My core is [Festivity]. First of all, no. I didn''t name it. The people who name these things like their fancy words. I would have gone for something simpler, like [Party]. Which is more or less what it does anyway. Its a 5th stage core. I can use skills from the [Wine], [Honey], [Frenzy], [Boost] and [Dexterity] cores. To put it bluntly, I can make monsters drunk. Like, seriously bad brain damage drunk. They also fight each other instead of me and don''t really feel pain when they do that. Oh, and the effects last a long time. Like, I can run away and let them finish each other off most of the time. I can also use it to buff people, but they don''t usually like the aftereffects." "And there you have it." Coach Homer finished. "They''ll show you what they can do in a few minutes. After we run into a proper pack of Rippers." I gulped. Following after them in sullen silence. We kept going down. Moving down the stairs with a steady tempo. Marco and Drew would occasionally jump in front. Throwing their bodies down a dozen steps at a time. A normal person would have destroyed their kneecaps. Those two hardly seemed to feel it. They laughed at my reaction and did it again. Flinging themselves twenty steps instead of the previous dozen. Then they followed that up by doing forty. "Its a game we play sometimes. Helps to keep you occupied when you''re going down." Ramji explained. "Don''t the monsters keep you occupied?" "Nah. Up here the mana''s too thin for anything dangerous to live. The few Rippers that you do see are all small and stunted. They can''t grow properly and they can''t move as well as ones you find on the first floor. You''ll know what I mean when we reach it." It took us another ten minutes to reach the bottom of the stairs. There, we found another set of double doors, though these ones were wide open. Behind them was a forest of stone trees. Blackened trunks reached upwards. Growing out of shiny obsidian roots. The ceiling was filled with shining crystals. White and yellow gemstones that lit up the massive chamber so that it had the illumination of a field at twilight. "Rippers up ahead. Two dozen. Ghouls too. Four of them coming from the side." Marco observed. Coach Homer nodded. "Drew. Ramji. Use your skills. Disable the whole crowd and let Cecil pick them off. Marco, don''t interfere. I''ll step in if it looks dangerous." "Sure thing Coach." I gripped the spear. Tightening my fingers around the shaft. My hands were so sweaty that the smooth steel pole was growing moist. The realization only served to make me more paranoid. ''What if I drop the spear? What if gets stuck in one of the Rippers? Can the armor take a hit from them?'' I sure didn''t think so. It looked like a lamb''s wool and felt like it too. Not the most comforting thought with wolves as big as cars running around. Sure, it was better than nothing, but I''d much prefer a couple of thick metal plates between me and whatever was out there. No sooner had the notion surfaced within me, that the situation changed. A deep, sonorous howl cut through the empty air. Followed quickly by another and another and another. They penetrated me like arrows. Shaking my very bones as they passed. Literally. The sound was supernatural in nature. It had to be. I felt colder. Heavier. Clumsier. Even the mere act of breathing became a chore. My brain having to tell my lungs to work as they should and my lungs then acting on a slight delay. The woods darkened as well, and it took a few seconds for me to realize that it was because my eyes were closing against my will. I bit my lip. Hard enough to draw blood and forced my eyes wide open. Staring into the unflinching shadows like a madman. ''I will not die today.'' I told myself. ''I refuse to die this day. I''m going to live. I''m going to go back to my uncle and my aunt and my cousin. I''m going to see them again.'' The beasts came closer. Stepping into the light. Their outlines shimmering slightly, just as the crystalline roots had. One moved to the right, while another moved to our left. Moving to flank me whilst three more stepped up behind them. Drew chuckled. "Nice going Cecil! I dropped my spear the first time around." "That''s cause you''re a scaredy cat." Ramji butt in. "Not like me. I was the best from the beginning." "Shut up man. No you weren''t." "I so was. Ask anybody around here. I was..." The Ripper on the right leapt. The Ripper on the left did as well. I jumped backwards on instinct. Bringing up my spear to catch the first in the throat. I went down alongside it. Tumbling into the soil beneath. The impact rattled my bones and squeezed all the air out of my lungs. Making it so that it came out in a surprised gasp. My vision was blurry and my hearing couldn''t quite pick up what was happening around me. I tried to push it away, struggling against the weight. It was so heavy that breathing had become a chore. I pushed and pushed, only to feel the black fur pressing down harder. ''Too heavy! Holy cow what is thing made of!?'' I became more panicked with every passing second. All too aware that there were many more predators lurking nearby. Images of claws and fangs engraved themselves in my brain and I could have sworn that they came within a hair''s breath while I lay there helplessly. But nothing actually touched me. Instead, I heard thudding noises. A lot of them in quick succession. "Hey coach, he looks like he''s struggling. Should we help him up?" "No. He needs to do this by himself. Keep the Rippers and the ghouls busy, but don''t kill any of them." "Roger that coach." Drew answered, in a voice much too chipper for this kind of setting. The next time I heard the coach, he was leaning down. His muscular frame just out of sight. "You''ve done very well Cecil. No one here could guess that this was your first time. Don''t be discouraged." Easy for him to say! He could probably punt this thing into the moon if he wanted to! "I know this is a lot. And I know it doesn''t seem fair. However, you can do this if you try. Take a deep breath and hold it for a few seconds. Then push as you''re releasing the breath." I did as he instructed. Pushing once more with all the strength I had left in me. The warm body moved an inch. Making me believe that it might just be possible for me to throw it off of me. Then it came right back down as my arms gave way. A pained grunt was all the noise I could make as my chest began to flatten against the monstrosity. "Hey coach? I think his leg is bleeding." Coach Homer cursed, kicking aside the Ripper with an ease that left me too stunned for words. I glanced down at myself. At my leg. That''s when I realized two very important facts. The first was that I couldn''t feel anything below my waist. The second, was that my bones were sticking out through my skin. I started hyperventilating. Wheezing rapidly as that chill the howls had left in me became more pronounced. "Drew, knock him out." I looked up in terror. Dreading what those words might mean for my continued survival. I opened my mouth. But the words would not come out. The world grew darker still and my eyes closed. Chapter 5: Getting Back Up. In the dream, there was no Dungeon. Nor was there a musclebound kidnapper or a gaggle of cultists. No. I was floating in the dream. Leaning back on a fluffy bed made of clouds. A warm summer sun was shining through the sky. Its rays dyeing the puffy goodness in vibrant hues of red and gold. It all looked so...pristine. Like a picture out of a fairytale. I took a deep, calming breath and felt a wave of chilly air entering my lungs. Refreshing me in ways that were difficult to describe. Yes. I felt so cool. So very very....cold. Cold. Too cold. My arms were getting stiffer. Like they were slowly turning to stone. I looked down to check on my legs and found them missing. In their place was another layer of cloud stuff. The kind of concentrated gas that might have held up a genie. Was I a genie in the dream? Another shiver ran up my pine at that thought and I found myself rubbing my hands together. "Too cold. Why is it so cold?" It didn''t make any sense. Or perhaps it did? People said it got really cold up in the sky. Maybe that was it? "But I was warm just a second ago. It shouldn''t be getting this cold now." I looked around for a source of heat, only to find more empty air around the cloud furniture. Then I looked up at the sky. Staring at the glowing sun. "The sun should be warm, right? Yes. The sun is warm. Its a star that burns so hot that its rays heat up all the planets in the solar system. It''ll keep me warm." I reached out for it. Trying to swallow it whole. Instead, I caught motes of light. Tiny, irrelevant twinkles that didn''t amount to anything. I wanted to keep going higher, but it was getting even colder now. Instead, I hugged the motes. Clinging to them with all my heart. Isolating them and myself from the rest of the dream. It worked. I got warmer. And warmer. And warmer still. Until I felt safe and happy and whole. ___________________________ I blinked. Once, then twice. Trying to fight against the weight of my eyelids. They felt heavier than steel. Pressing downwards with inexorable force. I kept blinking anyways. Catching burst of motion every now and then. There were people milling about. Moving back and forth like ants in a terrarium. They were wearing long white coats that flowed down past their knees and their voices were hushed and quick. Whispering conspiratorially amongst themselves. "Wo....up." "Than.....ness." "Ca.....wler." I couldn''t make out what they were saying. Not even when I strained my ears to listen. There was more motion afterwards. More people came in, though I did not know their faces. The strangers said words. I didn''t catch them. They would leave and more strangers would take their place, though I couldn''t hear them either. On and on it went. Repeating the patterns until at last, a tiny faceless blob came upon me. I felt a hand touching my arm. My vision returned all at once. I was looking at a young woman in a bright polka-dot dress. Her eyes boring deep into mine. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! "Good. You''re finally awake." "Uh." I said in response. "How much do you remember dear?" "Uh." I repeated. "Oh goodness. This might be a tad more serious than I thought. Brain damage is such a bother sometimes. Tell me, how many fingers am I holding up?" "I don''t have brain damage." I answered. That was probably true. I didn''t feel like someone with brain damage. "Whew. That''s a relief. You have no idea how troublesome those cases are. People around here are always going on about magic this and magic that. None of them really appreciate the limits of what our arts can do. Until their bravado comes back to bite them that is. Mark my words young man. That recklessness is going to get someone killed one of these days." I wanted to shout at that. To scream that it hadn''t been my idea to fight against a bunch of monsters in a dingy cave. Thankfully, I managed to stop myself in time. Either she was with them and might take offense to me being ungrateful about my family being brought into the cult or.... Or this might be a normal hospital and I was here after some sort of car crash. Which would conveniently explain away all the magic nonsense. I mean, she''d just spoken about magic, but I might be hallucinating right now. Shoot. How would someone even know if they''re hallucinating? Is there some kind of test that you can do? Like pinching your arm? The lady smiled warmly. "Why don''t you look at the Analyzer?" "The what now?" "The device on your hand honey. The black one with the numbers when the screen lights up. What does it say?" I turned my head to look. Seeing some changes in the numbers.
Name: Cecil Fowler
Core: None
Level: 0
Vitality: 1.2
Endurance: 1.1
Potency: 1
Precision: 1
Fortitude: 1.1
Skills: None
"Oh. That''s a pity." She said with a sigh. "Honestly, what a blunder. To risk death for so little gain." My head swivelled back as if on springs. My eyes staring deep into hers. "How dare....!" She snapped her fingers, cutting me off before I could start ranting. "It really isn''t your fault dearie. I know that much at least. That oaf Homer has years of experience training our children but he''s never had to teach someone who''s just starting out. Our kids usually have at least 2 or 2 and a half points in every stat by the time they''re your age. All from being born with an advanced core. That hit that broke your leg would have been a bruise on any one of our novices. He was probably hoping you''d shrug off the hit so he could chastise you on your form afterwards." "Wait, you''re telling me he could have stopped it?" "Of course dear. Any one of your new teammates could have stopped those monsters all by themselves. Rippers only get scary after they get smart. Around the third floor or so. First floor Rippers are little more than furry punching bags. That is, as long as you''ve got magic." She chuckled dryly. "Oh, you should have seen his face when he brought you up. He looked like someone had broken all his ribs and then set him on fire. I don''t blame him for that reaction either. It was a close thing." I blinked. Many times in quick succession. "You''re saying I almost died?" "Yes." She confirmed. Her face never so much as twitched as the words left her mouth. Another shiver ran up my spine. "And you would have been fine with that?" "Oh goodness no! That would have given us all a big fat headache." She brought her hand up and caressed my hair. Messing it up with her long slender fingers. "Your uncle was ready to burn half the town down when we brought him in on the secret. Same with your aunt. Seeing the monsters and Carlyle''s plans soothed their fears somewhat. They had been briefed and calmed. Ready to join our community, with all the rights and privileges that it entailed. Until you came back that is. If either of them had been armed, I suspect they might have tried to take a hostage. Not that it would have done them any good, but still. Its the thought that counts." "My family, they''re okay?" She nodded sagely. "Your uncle was temporarily restrained for his own good. To make sure he didn''t do anything too foolish. Your aunt and cousin have been re-located to another residence downtown, to make sure they don''t try to escape. Carlyle has spent an awful lot of time building up his little empire and the stories those two might tell could very well reduce his dreams to dust. Its not an option right now, with humanity on the line." I listened to her words, waiting until she was finished. Afterwards, I took a deep, steadying breath. Schooling my expression in order to hide my fear as much as possible. "You''re keeping us locked up?" "Only your uncle and only for the moment. He''s....too worked up after seeing you." "I almost died." I said, not phrasing it as a question. "Of course he''d get upset. I almost died, and you locked him up for that." "We did." She confirmed, not bothering to sugarcoat her words. "So? What happens now? Are you going to kill us?" "Sweetie. Please. We''re magicians. Not monsters. Why would we kill you?" "You said so yourself. We know your secrets now. And my uncle won''t work with you after what you did to me." She put up a hand to stop me. "Right. Let me correct two things for you. One, we didn''t injure you. You became injured through coach Homer''s negligence. There''s a difference. He will be punished for his failure to protect you. Be sure of that. Two, your uncle knows things you do not. He''s very much aware that to go against us is to go against humanity''s survival." "He won''t work with you." I insisted. She gave me a sympathetic look. "Then I truly hope you''re smarter than he is." "What do you mean?" She leaned back into her chair. Casually moving a few strands of brown hair away from her face. "Are you still willing to keep training after what you went through?" A sudden silence descended on the room. For my part, I had to shake my head in disbelief. Was this lady really asking me if I wanted to fight monsters again? After what that muscle gorilla put me through? After almost dying? Ha! As if! I was about to tell her where to shove her training when she began speaking once more. "Please note that, while we don''t perform executions, that doesn''t mean you''ll be free to go. As I said. All of us depend on some level of secrecy. At least until more dungeons start appearing in the surface and the magic levels begin to rise all around the world. People who are uncooperative are rare, but we have had experience dealing with such....cases." The way she said that last word made me gulp. "What happens if I refuse?" "You''ll join your aunt and cousin in one of our more...secure homes. Your uncle will join you, eventually. You will not be allowed to train or go near the schools in case you happen upon the idea of taking hostages. You''ll be homeschooled for the rest of your high school career and you''ll be expected to take odd jobs here and there in order to earn your keep. You will not have access to internet or television and you''ll be expected to keep a tight curfew or face longer terms in an actual jail cell. You''ll be given ankle monitors and all of you will be forbidden from leaving the house for the next three years. Until the wider world learns about magic. After that, you will be expelled. Left to fend for yourselves with the rest of humanity while the current institutions crumble all around you. Slackers have no place among us. Especially those that are coreless. Outsiders will be trained and taught during that time, but you''ll have already given up your chance to make a difference. You will not receive another." I was nodding along the whole time. Keeping her attention on the movements of my head while my thoughts ran wild inside of me. ''She''s saying we''re going to be prisoners. No, stupid, we''re already prisoners. She''s saying we''ll lose any hope of living in the new world. She did say they would let us go though. Yeah, once the outside was full of monsters. She could also be lying. Maybe she wants to see if she can convince me to join by being nice. Maybe they''ll force you to fight monsters anyway, only in chain gangs or something. Maybe she wants to know if she can salvage the situation. Maybe they''ll kills us all if you say no. After all, why bother with housing and feeding us for years if all they''re gonna do is wash their hands of us afterwards?'' I gulped. Feeling a lump in my throat that hadn''t been there before. I thought of my uncle and what he must be going through right now. I thought of my aunt, holed up in some bunker with little Eva. I thought of all they''d done for me since my parents died. Of how much they''d struggled to give me a good home and keep me from foster care. "I''ll fight." Chapter 6: Steady Now. Chapter 6: Steady Now. The lady left. Leaving me alone with my thoughts after poking around the bracelet. I looked it over and saw a new timetable. One that would supposedly replace my normal school work going forward. At first glance, it looked like the kind of lifestyle a prospective Olympian might have. Stretches and calisthenics first thing in the morning, followed by a short marathon every other day. The days where I wasn''t running would see me swimming. After that would come a short break where I''d memorize all the dungeon''s monsters from the first floor downwards; as well as the most effective ways to defeat them. Then I''d do some more endurance training. Inside the actual dungeon. With uncle Uter no less. Him and someone else who was presumably more qualified than coach Homer had been. The document specifically stated that I wouldn''t be fighting monsters unless they''d been heavily wounded beforehand for the next two weeks. After that.... ''It''ll be fine. If they wanted to kill me, I''d be dead already. Plus, that lady said that coach Homer had been punished for letting me get hurt. These people don''t want to hurt me or uncle Uter. Besides...'' They had magic. Among all the other things that had rocked my world, that fact had been the slowest to set in. These people had magic. Actual, honest to goodness magic. Marco, Ramji and Drew were my age and yet they could move faster than I could process. Monsters weren''t an issue for them. In fact, those three seemed bored. Like they were only fighting weak monsters because they had to babysit me. I gulped, realizing now that any of them could have killed me with the slightest bit of effort. ''Would I be that strong, if I got a core?'' Coach Homer said I could. In fact, he seemed to take it for granted that anyone could get a good core with decent effort. I clenched my fists. ''If I had a core. If I had magic, then I''d be able to take care of my family. I could keep them safe. The apocalypse has to be real, if all this other stuff is. The only way to live will be to be stronger than the monsters.'' My heart hammering inside my chest once more, but from excitement, rather than fear. Uncle Uter came along later that night. His face was haggard. Mired by grief and regret. "Cecil...I. I''m so sorry. This is all my fault. I''m so, so sorry." "Its okay uncle." I said, smiling in hopes of cheering him up. "I wasn''t hurt too bad." The lie came easily to my lips once I saw his face. Whatever had happened prior to this, the fact remained that we only had one way forward now that we were in on the secret. My uncle was a good man and he''d always been there to take care of me. He couldn''t know how bad it had been, or else he might try to escape and get himself into trouble. That simply wasn''t a choice in our current situation. My so-called teammates had bee thoroughly superhuman, and they''d been level 1. There was absolutely no doubt in my mind that the adults would be much, much stronger than they had been. Heck, there were probably folks here who could read minds or, I don''t know, teleportation or magical tracking. We''d be caught in seconds. Best case scenario, we were reprimanded and separated from then on. Worse case scenario... I didn''t even want to think about it. "Seriously uncle. I''m good. Its all good. I''m excited! People have magic here and they said we''d get magic too!" "Yes." He said gravely. "They did mention it once or twice." Uncle Uter sat down next to me. His tired eyes looking down at me with apprehension. "Cecil. I.... I saw. I saw them bring you in. I... I''m sorry." The words seemed to break him. His eyes watering for the first time since I''d known him. "I should have done better. I should have known something was fishy about this whole mess. I should never have brought you and Eva here. You deserved better. I..." His fists were clenched so tightly that they''d gone white. "I should be stronger than this. I should be strong for you. I should be someone who knows what they''re doing and what''s best for the family. But I don''t. I...I''ve seen the monsters. I''ve seen the dungeons. I''ve seen the actual paperwork and all the planning Mr. Robertson has put into this town. This whole worldwide conspiracy. Its real. Its real and I''ve led us right into the heart of it and I don''t know how to move on from this now that I know what''s coming." Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Small trickles of blood could be seen coming from his hands now. He lowered his head, as if in shame. "I was excited about it. About magic being real and about us being chose, when I found out you''d been hurt. I...It was like the whole world collapsed. I couldn''t think. I couldn''t breathe. All I could think about was you. Not moving. Lying on this...this bed. While I was celebrating. I''m sorry Cecil. I''m so, so sorry." My hand reached out by itself. Placing itself on his lap. "Its not your fault uncle. No one could have seen this coming. Getting hurt, was my, mistake. I did something stupid. It won''t happen again. Let''s give this place a try. For real this time. Lets get as strong as we can and get actual magic powers. I know things will get better after that." Tears were still falling down his face, when he lifted his eyes to meet mine once more. "I''m sorry Cecil. I''m sorry you have to be so mature for my sake. For all our sakes. That isn''t your responsibility. It shouldn''t be. I''m sorry you couldn''t stay young for a little while longer. You deserve better." He lunged forward. His meaty arms tightening around my skinny frame. "I won''t let anything bad happen to you again Cecil. I''m going to train. I''m going to get strong. Strong enough to protect this family. I swear it." I hugged him back. Feeling his warmth. His feelings. "Me too. Uncle. Me too." ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________ I was out of the hospital two days later. A fact that shocked me most of all. "For the fifth time son, You''re all right." "I, uh. I get that. Really, I do. I feel, sort of all right, but... I mean...." I waved my hands over my legs. As if that could get the meaning across. The nurse looked down, then up again. Her eyebrow raised. Her judgmental stare cut into me like a flurry of knives. Still, I persisted. "I was told that both my legs were broken." "That''s right." "And now you''re telling me they''re fine?" "Yes. See? You''re starting to understand. Good boy." I stammered. Taken aback by the sheer weight of her condescension. "Aren''t I supposed to stay in intensive care for, oh, I don''t know, another week? At least? I''ve known kids who do dumb things in their spare time and they usually took a couple of months before coming back to school." "Ah, yes. The, non-magical procedures." Somehow, someway, she managed to grow even more insufferably smug. "Mr. Fowler. I believe you''ll find that our methods are far more effective at healing wounds rapidly. The fact that it took this long shows how badly you were hurt and how low your stats are. The magic is less effective on those with, weaker constitutions. Most of our patients never actually set foot in the hospital, since healers are usually stationed outside the dungeon. Yours was a particularly bad case. Its even made you somewhat famous around these parts." I flinched at her words. Suddenly dreading what my peers would say. I''d been bullied a bit in elementary school, but it hadn''t lasted for long. I had a feeling that getting on the bad side of literal superhumans would be a completely different matter however. My mind went back to Elsie. To how she''d first appeared in front of me. How she''d known about what was going to happen, but chose to taunt me instead of telling me what was going on. I sighed and shook my head. "Right. Okay. So, are there any side-effects I should be concerned about?" "Yes, actually." My ears perked up. All thoughts of social isolation vanishing at once. "It''s nothing too serious." She assured me. A statement that immediately brought a wave of dread over me. "Its, only, overusing healing can be detrimental for growth at early levels. Especially at level zero. It can stunt the development of your stats. It wouldn''t be a problem for most of our locals, since they already have cores, but you, your uncle and your aunt should be careful when you train. There were some cases of settlers getting stage 1 or stage 2 cores because of this. Mr. Robertson was only starting the town you see, so the training regiments weren''t as organized or streamlined." "What happened to those people?" "The flunkies?" She shrugged. "Some are around. Living here and there. They usually take care of the more, menial jobs around here. The ones that are safer and don''t require you to delve as deep. Things like accounting or managing the town''s supplies and communication. Others were sent out by Carlyle in order to take over more dungeons around the world. Some of the other facilities even have more people than ours, though none of them have as many advanced core families." She gave me an assessing look. "Newcomers are usually taken in through those bases, instead of this one. They tend to perform mass inductions for new employees on the regular, since Mr. Robertson''s businesses have been expanding. I don''t suppose any of you were told why Mr. Robertson wanted you here instead of there?" ''Jeez lady. Could you be any less subtle? I don''t think people in Mongolia got your meaning.'' "Nope." I said. Truthfully. I had absolutely no idea why this was happening to us in particular; and even if I did, I sure wasn''t about to tell someone as rude as her. I turned on my heels before she could say anything else and walked away at a brisk pace. The nurse clicked her tongue after I left. So loudly that I could hear her from several paces away. I was beyond caring however. My schedule had been moved up in light of my early discharge, meaning this would be the first day of magic boot camp. A part of me chaffed at the notion. Stressed about leaving school at just fourteen. Annoyingly, those thoughts refused to dissipate, no matter how many times I reminded myself that I had little choice in the matter and that the magic people were convinced the world was literally ending in three years or so. I made my way over to the parking lot, only to look around in confusion. ''Where''s uncle Uter? He said he''d be here to pick me up.'' "Your Uncle''s not coming." A familiar voice stated. I whirled, chills going down my spine as beads of sweat gathered on my forehead. He was here. Wearing a sporty shirt and yoga pants. Looking like nothing serious had happened between us. "I was told you wouldn''t be coming. Coach Homer." He snorted. "I''m not. My father will be the one in charge of your training. He''ll be coming by any second." "So, why are you here?" He stopped at that. Taking what looked like a deep, steadying breath. "I wanted to...to apologize." I stared at him in disbelief. He either didn''t notice, or didn''t care. "You kids were under my supervision when we delved. Your safety should have been my top priority. It wasn''t. I saw the Rippers leap. Both of them. I could have stopped them if I wanted to, but..." "But?" "But I thought it would have made a good lesson." I blinked. Several times in quick succession. Not quite able to process the unimaginable amounts of nonsense coming out of this man''s mouth. I mean, what? WHAT? That''s why you let me get my legs broken? Are you high? Actually, yeah. That sort of checks out. He continued speaking, not caring that I was stupefied beyond words. "It would have been a teachable moment on tactics. More specifically, about working in groups. The correct move would have been to sidestep the attacker or roll out of the way entirely. That wouldn''t have tied you down and it would have given your teammates the opportunity to use their skills in tandem, on enemies that were aiming for you instead of them. That would have meant the Rippers were distracted and I would have shown you that mental skills like Ramji''s or Drew''s can take advantage of even the slightest gap in the opponent''s concentration. It would have demonstrated how you could and would be a valuable asset to the team. To you, as well as them. Yet, I didn''t count on regular people being so..." "Weak?" I offered. "Fragile." He supplied instead. "It was a miscalculation that turned a lesson into a reckless rush into danger. It was also a mistake on, my part that almost cost me the lives of one of my students. For that, I am sorry. I promise that, should I ever get the chance to teach you again, it will not be repeated." He waited, after he was done. Perhaps waiting for me to forgive him. If so, he was fresh out of luck. My legs might be healed, but I was still getting hints of phantom pain every few minutes. The nurse had, of course, dismissed it as normal for one''s first time, but it didn''t make the pain any less bearable. Coach Homer waited for another few seconds, before nodding his head solemnly. Then, he turned right around, bent his knees, and jumped. So high that he cleared four or five blocks. Not buildings. Blocks. My jaw hit the floor. ''In hindsight. Maybe being rude to the superman wasn''t a good idea.'' Chapter 7: Brutality. Coach Homer had been stoic mass of muscle that hardly ever spoke up about anything other than the importance of developing a good core. His father, Coach Russell, was not the same. Coach Russell loved to laugh. He lived for it. His shirt was always dirty and his thick cargo shorts were always stained by mud and grass. His hair and beard were a mess too. A long tangle of dirty brown rope that surrounded his face and head and reached all the way down to his shoulders. He had an air of, youth, about him. An aura that would trick people who didn''t know better into thinking he was in his mid-twenties. In reality, that number was closer to sixty. Only, he didn''t move or act like a sixty-year-old at all. He was quick to anger and quick to forgive. His temper coming and going like a summer storm. He was also outspoken. Very, very, outspoken. "Come on Cecil! Get a move on! Its only been forty minutes!" ''Yeah, forty minutes of sprinting uphill after a measly ten minute break.'' The complaints didn''t leave my mind however. A week of brutal training had taught me that some ideas were far too dangerous to voice out loud. So, I kept running and running and running. Fighting past the incandescent pain burning through my legs and arms and... "Don''t slow down Cecil! Imagine there''s a big, scary monster chasing you!" ''But coach, there really is a big, scary monster chasing me.'' Those words were also left unsaid. The hairy behemoth might be constantly laughing at his own jokes, but he was a lot less receptive when other people tried to be funny. ''Though a least he hasn''t sent me or mine into the dungeon. Small blessings I suppose.'' I tried to distract myself from the agony and focused on the hate instead. Hate for the fact that I wasn''t in school. Hate for the fact that I hadn''t been allowed to call any of my actual friends out in the real world. Hate for the way the other students snickered at the frail human trudging down the street every time one of them saw me. Hate for Elsie and her smug condescension. For the way the narrowed her eyes followed me around town and smiled every single time she saw me. Those eyes spoke volumes all by themselves. It was like a cat glancing down at a mouse. Too busy toying with it to actually eat it. An apt comparison, if what I''d heard was even remotely true. She could probably kill me with a flick or her wrist. That truth bred a fresh wave of resentment. A nasty bile that clung to my throat just as the sweat clung to my shirt and chest. ''Laugh while you still can Elsie. Laugh as much as you want. Let''s see how funny it is when I get my own core.'' Coach Russell reached me from behind. Slowing himself down right before passing me. His eyes assessed me. Taking in my form and my current state. I heard him chuckle from the side. "You''re doing great Cecil. Why, if I didn''t know any better, I''d have guessed you were one of ours." I swallowed the words I wanted to say. Forcing a smile. "Thank you, Coach. Its all thanks to your guidance." "Damn right! But this is just the beginning. We''ll start raising the difficulty little by little from now on. Just to make sure you''re getting the most out of these lessons." I stumbled. My elbows impacting the hard earth beneath. Short, shallow breaths began escaping from my lungs. Scalding me as they went in and out and in and out again. "R-raise the difficulty? More than this?" He barked out a laugh. "Of course kid! You didn''t think we were going to spend a month or two running around the dungeon''s entrance did you? That''d be a damn fine waste of time! Yours and mine. Now! Get up and start running again!" I did so. Struggling to keep the curses inside of me. Groaning as the soreness from my legs redoubled. My feet were moving again before long. Leaping over roots and balancing on unsteady ground while keeping ahead of the sadist at my heels. "Yes!" He bellowed. "Stay in motion! Watch your step! Proper running form from now on!" He kept at it for another few minutes. Not caring about the damage he was inflicting on me. My throat was parched. Whatever liquids I''d ingested having turned to sweat long ago. Swallowing did nothing but remind me of how much the act hurt. How much fire was travelling up my legs and through my torso. I started to slow down, but that only made him yell louder. "Do not lose speed Cecil! You are doing great! Focus on our lessons! Name the all the stats and what they do!" I started doing so. Fighting through the temptation to curl into a ball until another week had passed. "Vitality, is how healthy you are." "Wrong! Go again!" I cursed him again. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. "Vitality, is how good your cells are at healing themselves, staying alive and regenerating. Higher values let you live longer, resist diseases better, build muscle faster and heal from injuries faster." "And!?" I winced. Almost falling over again from the way he shouted in my ears. "And it helps healing magic do its job. Higher values let you get healed faster and without side effects." "Good! Next!" "Endurance is how much stamina your body has and how much magic you can use before collapsing. Magic uses stamina, so its important to have a high value." "Precisely! Keep going!" I was about to start talking again, when I noticed the rapidly approaching branch. I ducked just in time to avoid getting slapped in the face. An act that drew a satisfied chortle from Coach Russell. "I said! Keep going!" "Potency is physical and magical strength. It makes your magic stronger and it makes you stronger. Too little Potency means your skills and attacks won''t get through." "And?" ''Jeez man. Who hurt you? Leave me alone.'' "And too much can make your skills go berserk." "How do you avoid this?" "By having at least half as much Precision and Fortitude." "Right on the money! You''re amazing Cecil! Now! What do those two do!?" "Precision is how much control you have over your body and your magic. It lets you aim and manipulate your skills better and lets you draw on more magic faster. It also lets you move more faster, with more efficiency. Fortitude is how stable your magic skills are and how stable the magic in your body is. It lets you take bigger hits more often and it lets you use more magic at once without losing control of it. It also prevents your persistent skills from breaking down too quickly or being shrugged off. Or dispelled." "Excellent! You got that all in one try! You are awesome Cecil! Way to go!" He sounded so genuinely sincere that, for a fraction of a second, I actually considered asking for a break. Then I recalled what happened the last time I did so and pushed down the impulse. "Now then. I want you to list off every monster from the first five floors and their weaknesses by order of least dangerous to most dangerous. Starting now." I clenched my teeth. So tightly that I feared they would crack. But they didn''t and I ended up complying. "Rippers. Eyes and exposed skin behind the ribs." "Ghouls. Head and torso. Blunt weapons are best." "Skeletons. Spine. They won''t stop moving otherwise." "Acid Snails. Salt and piercing weapons from the front. Attack right after they get ready to spit." "Stone Bugs. Legs. Blunt weapons." "Gargoyles. Wings. They won''t die unless both are broken." "Skin Frogs. Tongue. Slashing weapons. Lots of arteries. Bleeds quickly." Coach Russell hummed a tune as I kept going. Not asking me anything else for another half hour while I was left to my list. My vision was blurry by the time I finished. My eyes unable to tell what was in front of me. To make matters worse, the blazes in my lungs had turned to molten lava. Each breath searing my throat as the hot air escaped. ''Just one more step.'' I told myself. ''Just one more step for your family. You have to get strong. You have to get through this. Don''t let them down.'' "I think that''s enough for now." Coach Russell said offhandedly. With the casual tone of someone discussing the weather or what they had for lunch. I didn''t say anything. Indeed, I didn''t even waste a second. My body fell like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Making it so that my hands caught me at the very last second. I was panting like a beaten dog, when the bastard shook a water bottle in front of me. I grabbed it, quick as a snake and gulped it down without a second thought. At that moment, it was the sweetest thing I''d ever tasted. The Coach chuckled. "You must think me a monster." "Of course not." I lied through my teeth. That managed to get a laugh out of him. "Good. Because this is where your warm-up officially ends. We''ll be running inside the actual dungeon for the rest of the day. I''ll cripple any monsters we come across long before you notice them. You will focus on running, familiarizing yourself with the landscape and finishing off any dregs you do notice." I looked up at him. Horrified. "Why?" It was perhaps, the most asinine thing I could have possibly said. Yet the words had escaped my lips before I knew it. His expression changed at a moment''s notice. Going from overly jovial to understanding at the drop of a hat. "Why don''t you check your Analyzer and tell me what''s on your status?" My eyes went from him, to the black glassy item on my wrist. I sat down properly and tapped the screen with an unsteady finger. Noting the slight changes from this past week.
Name: Cecil Fowler
Core: None
Level: 0
Vitality: 1.4
Endurance: 1.3
Potency: 1.1
Precision: 1.1
Fortitude: 1.2
Skills: None
"Its just a few decimal points." I informed him. "Exactly! A few decimal points in every stat in just a week! That means you''re at least 10% better than you were last week in every aspect. And that''s not even counting the non-magical changes. Endurance has allowed you to train for longer periods each day, while Vitality makes your muscles heal faster. You''ve been toning your flimsy excuse for a body far faster and far more efficiently than any mundane athlete out there. All that extra meat on your bones makes those decimals more impactful, which in turn lets you push your body harder. You''ve made some awesome progress this past week." "Then, why do you want me to go harder? Why aren''t we keeping up our usual schedule?" "Because its a waste, dumb, dumb. The gains are going to slow down. Faster than you could possibly imagine too. It''ll happen because your body will start thinking of this as the new normal. If you let this become a new normal you''ll end up with a middling core at best." I sucked in a breath. Wondering whether this would be a good time to get some answers. "Um, I got a question, regarding that. Coach." "Oh? Well lets hear it!" I gulped. "People around town are always telling me to train harder and harder, but I still don''t know how high my stats need to be to get a good core." He nodded sagely. "That''s fair. I suppose. Though I still don''t think I should tell you." "Why?" He shrugged. "For the same reason no one else has told you either. If I tell you what the bare minimum is, that''s what you''ll end up aiming for, whether you realize it or not. Your mind will accept that a certain degree of effort is all that''s required on a subconscious level and your body will follow suit. That''s how a lot of folks from my day ended up as flunkies. They slowed down their training. Didn''t push themselves as hard as the others. Left the field early day after day and didn''t delve past the first floor. Some of them even took entire days or weeks off. Knowing full well they were on a strict deadline. Now, their families are paying for their laziness." I bristled. "That''s a little harsh." He shook his head sadly. "No. Cecil. My words aren''t harsh. They''re the truth. Some of those guys are still friends of mine and I see the way they look at me. At my kids. I see the way their kids look at Homer when we have our monthly delving meetings. Do you have any idea what someone at his or my level can do? Can you imagine growing up next to him and knowing full well that you are built differently? That you''ll never be able to reach his toes because the core you got was just plain worse than his?" He caught himself at the end. Snapping his mouth shut before any more words could slip through. "Look kid. Cecil. I know its not easy, okay? I know it hurts and I know it all seems like a little much. Okay? I really, honestly get it." He knelt in front of me. Making it so that his eyes were at my level. His beard looked more like bear fur than human hair at this distance. So thick the strands could deform scissors. "I''ve been where you''ve been. I''ve literally, literally knelt in that same spot. With a soreness that consumes you until you want to curl up into a ball and never move again. I. Have. Been. There. So I know what I''m talking about when I say that it''ll be worth it. The things you''ll see down there. The things that are going to escape. They make folks like me and Homer look like kittens. You need every single advantage you can get. We all do." It took a few more seconds to catch my breath. Coach Russell said nothing in the interim. Patiently waiting for my reply. "I know." I answered. "I know the monsters are scary. I know that. I know the problem has to be serious if all of you, supers, are so fixated on what''s coming. What I don''t know is why you''re all so concerned about me." His face grew more serious. "Why wouldn''t we be?" "Because neither my aunt or uncle have been put through the wringer to this degree. Eva, I can understand. She''s too young and you all said levels only come after puberty. But I don''t get what''s so special about me. I''m not particularly fast or strong. I''m not too good at sparring from what I''ve seen. So, why? What is it that you know that I don''t?" Coach Russell didn''t say anything else. Instead, he nodded solemnly and stood back up to his full height. "Tell you what. I''m willing to share, but only if you earn it." "Earn it? How?" A predatory smile blossomed on his features. "By surpassing my expectations." He raised two fingers on his right hand. "You run twice as much as you have today while inside the dungeon and I''ll tell you whatever you want." I blinked up at him. Trying to discern whether or not he was lying. "You promise?" "On my honor." He swore. Then he turned around and began walking away. "Although, it will mean cutting your break short. Your call, I guess." I wanted to scream. To call him a dirty cheater. Instead, I took a deep, steadying breath, and moved to follow. Chapter 8: Talent. The day ended with me finishing off a dozen Rippers and two ghouls. My spear finding their necks or eye sockets once they''d been downed. I was...proud of the achievement. Perhaps overly so. Not because it was hard or anything. It wasn''t. The reason I was so proud was that I''d managed to hold on to my spear despite the aching all over my body. My arms and legs were trembling from exhaustion even before setting foot in the dungeon. Afterwards, each new step was a needle through the skin. A blow in and of itself. To my shame, I considered giving up. More than once in fact. But I always grit my teeth and determined to keep going. Pushing my shell further and further. Past the soreness. Past the agony. Only for it to mean nothing in the end. I was barely able to cover half the distance I''d covered in the surface and the pain that followed was so intense that I seriously thought I was going to pass out. But I didn''t. I was still very much awake when Coach Russell picked me up and carried me back to the surface and I remained awake as he ran back to my home. The man held me as if I was a sack of potatoes and he still managed to run faster than any cars on the road. Leaping over roads in such a way that the impact of lading didn''t bother me too much. He only dropped me when we''d reached my front porch, and even then, he took care to do it slowly and gently so that I landed on my feet. He then sauntered forward like owned the place. Knocking on the heavy steel door with just enough force that the sound reverberated within the whole house and the first basement floor of the bunker beneath. ''Thank goodness he has that much Control.'' I thought with a start. ''With his level, he could probably rip the door right off its hinges if he wasn''t careful.'' Aunt Cheryl opened the door soon after. Her haggard face brightened once she saw me and her sunken-in eyes seemed to regain the tiniest hint of life. Then she looked at Coach Russell and her face took on a scowl that could have curdled milk. "I thought his special lessons were supposed to end at 6." She told him. With an edge that could have disemboweled lesser men. Coach Russell didn''t so much as blink. His smile never fading. "Yes ma''am. That was the plan. However, Cecil here is a damn prodigy! I thought it''d be a waste to have him return on time when there were still gains on the table." Aunt Cheryl was unmoved. "It is past 10. 10 pm. What exactly were you doing with my nephew at this hour?" "Running." He answered. Saying the truth without saying the whole truth. Aunt Cheryl snorted in obvious derision. "And how much more running do you think he''ll have to do before he can resume his studies?" "A whole lot more, if he''s lucky. Can''t really tell when a core will pop in, but it usually takes a couple of months of continued exposure to magic. Its June now and I''m told that his grades were pretty decent, so he won''t be missing much if he decides to skip this last month and go right into the regular summer vacation period. All the other boys and girls his age will be training extra hard in the dungeon during the summer. Even more so than usual. He''ll be ready to join his team properly if he keeps up this pace until then." "So you''re saying he won''t be back in school until September?" She asked, incredulously. "Yes ma''am. Though I personally think It''d be a waste. We don''t really, put too much stock on the regular curriculum around here. Everyone pretty much goes into the family business in some capacity and you don''t really need a lot of book smarts to rise high. Someone with Cecil''s talent should be out there delving as much as he can." I looked up at him. My mouth hanging open. ''Talent? What talent? All I''ve been doing is running away from you for hours on end!'' Maybe that was it. Maybe Coach Russell was a sadist who got off on running down teens. Wouldn''t surprise me in the least. Aunt Cheryl must have noticed my expression, because she looked like she about to blow a fuse. Belatedly, I thanked my lucky stars that she didn''t have a weapon at the ready. Elsewise, things might have gotten very freaking ugly, very freaking fast. Instead, she schooled her expression. Gave Coach Russell a curt nod and yanked me back into the house. The door shut with a resounding boom. The heavy steel clashing against the thick stone columns that made up the opening. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. "Thank goodness for the soundproofing in the rooms." She said offhandedly. "I don''t know what I would have done if Eva woke up from that." I laughed a little. Wincing as the motion sent sharp pains lancing through my beaten body. Aunt Cheryl noticed that too. Eyeing me with a mixture of pity, guilt and concern. "You shouldn''t be working yourself so hard Cecil. You look terrible." I laughed some more. "I''m with you Auntie. I couldn''t agree more. But our neighbours don''t seem to care what you or I think." Her face twisted with shame. "I could tell them off tomorrow. I could say that you''re sick or that you''re just too tired to move. Heck, I could say the fridge fell on top of you. Anything to keep you here. At least for a day." The temptation was almost too much to bear. Almost. "Auntie, I...I can''t. Coach Russell would know. Everyone would. My stats....I''ve already figured out what some of them are doing. The muscle aches are killing me right now, but they''ll be almost gone by morning. I think it might be my high Vitality." She scoffed. "Don''t lie to me Cecil. I haven''t noticed anything of the sort and I''ve been working myself haggard right next to Uter. I got to 1.2 today." I took in her words and turned on my Analyzer to show her my progress.
Name: Cecil Fowler
Core: None
Level: 0
Vitality: 1.7
Endurance: 1.6
Potency: 1.3
Precision: 1.3
Fortitude: 1.3
Skills: None
"What the fuck!?" I yelled, staring incredulously at how fast the numbers had risen. "Cecil! Language!" Aunt Cheryl snapped, though she too couldn''t tear her eyes away from the screen. ''How!? This was... how!?'' "Cecil.... what have you been doing?" "Running! That and the stupid stretches and the weightlifting! The only thing we did differently today was that we went into the..." "Dungeon." She finished for me. Then she grabbed me by the shoulders and patted my body all over. "Did you break anything?" "No? At least, I don''t think so. I just ran behind Coach Russell and killed the monsters he left for me. I mean, I was completely spent and exhausted the whole time. Almost running on fumes. Coach Russell did say that more effort meant better gains and that people improved more the deeper into the dungeon they went. Maybe that''s what happened?" Aunt Cheryl nodded. Seemingly lost in thought. She stayed like that for a whole minute. Her gaze locked onto the bracelet. Afterwards, she rose slowly and began to re-heat the dinner she''d prepared. "I''ll take care of Eva tomorrow. For the whole day. I''ll tell Uter to go with you when you train with that man." She faltered for a fraction of a second, before releasing a resigned sigh. "If what you''re doing is too dangerous, I want him there to keep you safe. If not...." She bit her lip. The words refusing to come out. "If not, we should be doing it too. We''re your guardians. We''re supposed to keep you safe. Its not right that you should be working yourself harder than us. It''s not fair to you." I stammered. Unsure of what to say. ''You shouldn''t be thinking that. You already do so much for me. You have Eva to take care of. I can take care of myself. I can take care of you too.'' The words came to my mind, but I found that I couldn''t voice them for whatever reason. There a selfish tightness in my chest. A longing for company. For Uncle Uter to be there. In the end, I settled for some meek thanks and ate my meal in silence. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ The next morning came too soon in my opinion. I looked at the bracelet and groaned when I realized that nine whole hours had passed. ''At least the soreness is bearable now.'' Indeed, my arms, legs and torso felt refreshed. Almost as if I''d been resting for a couple of days instead of a single night. I stood up, dressed in fresh running clothes and went down for breakfast. Eva was there. Next to my aunt and uncle. Her eyes were sparkling and her mouth was moving at lightning speed. Struggling to tell me about all her new friends and about the magic they could do in as short a time as humanly possible. "So Kelly, she can fly! She goes brrrr! And she spreads her arms and she can fly! She doesn''t flap her arms like a bird but she can fly anyways! She makes the wind pick her up and she goes brrr and brrr! Like an airplane! And Sally! She can throw fire! She opens her mouth like a dragon and breathes fire! She said her parents once grounded her for setting the curtains in her house on fire, so now she''s not allowed to do it inside anymore. But she''s so much fun! She said I could do magic too!" "That''s great sweetie." Aunt Cheryl said. "Cab Kelly and Sally come and stay for the night?" "No sweetie." Aunt Cheryl said. "Why not!?" "Because she sets things on fire sweetie." "That''s not fair! Its her magic! All my new friends have magic! That''s just what magic does!" Aunt Cheryl gave her the look. Eva saw it and immediately turned towards me and Uncle Uter. Her puffy cheeks so red that she could have passed for a crabapple. "Its not fair that everyone else can have friends over but I can''t!" "Eva, dear, listen to your mother. She knows what she''s talking about." "But its not fair! I''m not gonna have any friends if I''m not allowed to bring people over!" She turned her pouty lips in my direction. "Tell them Cecil! Tell them!" I opened my mouth and ended up sighing. "Look, Eva. We''re handling grown up stuff right now. You''re probably better off not bringing anyone here. Its not safe." "How is it not safe!? They''re not gonna get hurt! They have magic powers!" ''Which is exactly why its not safe.'' I looked over at my aunt and uncle. Both of them were massaging their temples in frustration. No doubt wondering how to explain the simple reality that any of Eva''s friends could probably kill us all if they lost control for even a second. Not to mention the possible consequences of a tantrum. Those kids would have been born with cores and raised in an environment where everyone around them also had cores. What might classify as innocent roughhousing for them might very well be enough to turn me into paste. Me or Eva. "We''re not having anyone over to visit young lady and that''s final." Eva stuttered, but caught herself once she saw a ray of hope. "Well, can I go to Sally''s house then?" "No." Aunt Cheryl declared. Her tone leaving no room for discussion. It was such a hard rebuttal that Eva was left speechless. Then she reddened even further. Stomping on the ground over and over again. "Its not fair! You won''t let me have friends over! You don''t want me to go to visit my friends! You don''t want me to have any friends! You just want me to come home after school and die of boredom!" "You won''t die of boredom sweetie. I''ll stay with you after school. We can play super Dario and build Tego castles and solve puzzles and watch mo...." "I don''t want to do any of that! I want to play with my friends!" She stomped on the ground. Hitting the stone floor with all her 8-year old rage. Making noises that were, honestly, more funny than they were scary. Then she went to the door, pulling on it while yelling. "I hate you! I hate all of you!" She gave it a tug and faltered when her best efforts couldn''t pry it open. She whirled on the handle. Taking it with both hands and pulling harder and harder. To no avail. It took a few more minutes of pulling for her to tire herself out. When she finally did so, she hunkered down next to the door and turned around to stare at us. Sulking all by herself. Chapter 9: In a group again. Coach Russell led me and uncle Uter down the dungeon stairs. His whistling was the only sound that could be heard in the oppressive spiraling hall and each step seemed to resonate with the beat of his tune as he casually ignored the unease me and my uncle were feeling. For his part, uncle Uter was putting up a show of calm professionalism. Projecting the feeling that he was in his element down here and certainly not scared out of his mind. ''Maybe that''s the secret.'' I thought sullenly. ''Maybe I won''t be scared if I keep pretending not to be scared. Worth a shot at least.'' Surprisingly, it kind of worked. I felt far less nervous around the Rippers now. At least, compared to how I''d been on my first day. Each of the brief skirmishes would see one or two of them creeping in from the darkness, like specters hungry for blood. The low light of the stairs making their thick black fur shine like polished obsidian while their bright glowing eyes shone like gemstones. I would lunge with my spear, finding that I was ever so slightly faster than they were and finish the affair by impaling their throats. One after the other. Coach Russell chuckled from the back. "See what I meant kid? That''s some real talent right there. You didn''t even flinch this time and you haven''t even been training for a full month! Tell me, what changed from yesterday?" I stopped to consider the question. "The spear tip went in and out more easily. It got stuck a few times yesterday." I hesitated for a second, looking at uncle Uter and wondering if I should keep going. He looked, astonished. Giving no hint that I should be withholding information. "They also felt... weaker. At least, weaker than the ones that live on the proper parts of the first floor." Coach Russell''s eyes shone like diamonds in the shadows. His grin so wide that it came across as maniacal, rather than elated. "Care to be more, specific?" "What do you mean?" "I''m asking you what about them you found weaker? What part of them was inadequate?" I shrugged. "A bit of everything, I guess. Their eyes weren''t tracking me as well. The Rippers on the first floor always give me the impression that they know more than they should. Their eyes are always alert and they move a little bit every time I move in any direction. They even react when I twitch or when I shift my hands around my spear. The ones up here just kind of, stare out into space. Like they''re zoned out or something. They''re also slower when they do react. The ones on the first floor always turn their bodies and heads at the last minute. Even after you crippled them. They fight with everything they''ve got until the very end. These ones, they can''t seem to muster up the same amount of energy." Coach Russell''s laugh was as loud as an erupting volcano. Almost shaking the very foundations of the dungeon walls as it echoed down into the blackened depths. "You see!? You see Uter!? That''s what I''m talking about! Your nephew is, what, fourteen? And he''s already noticing details like that! You''ve got a damn prodigy on your hands I tell you!" I started feeling heat gathering around my face and ears. Then, I felt the embarrassment giving way to bitterness. ''He says that, but Marco, Ramji and Drew are all my age and level 1. Without the explosive boosts to their stats. Any one of them could make me look like a toddler in diapers without putting in any effort.'' Maybe coach Russell thought this was an easy way to win me over. Excessively showring me with compliments until I started being more receptive to his methods. ''Nice try old man. I''m not that easy to trick.'' "I, is that so? Yes. Of course." Uncle Uter said, straightening his back and taking on an expression that was flushed with pride. "Cecil has always been talented. I''m glad he''s adapting so well." I blinked. Several times in quick succession. Not quite believing how fast his somber mood had turned. Coach Russell noticed my skepticism and gave me and softer, knowing smile. "I don''t need to be a mind-reader to know what you''re thinking Cecil. You shouldn''t put yourself down like that. Again, you haven''t been doing this for very long, while your schoolmates have been prepping for delving their entire lives. Your progress is nothing short of incredible, but talent is only 20% of that. Your hard work so far is the biggest reason for your gains. Keep it up and you''ll catch up in no time at all." I nodded slowly. Recalling my goal. "Yes coach. Lead on." ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ The first floor was just as dark, musty and dingy as it had been yesterday. Its stone trees casting deep shadows where the faint light struck them. It retained a harrowing stillness even now. Despite it being filled to the brim with hostile lifeforms. Sound had a way of passing through the solid trunks and the deadened branches that made any errant whisper seem like it was both near and far away. So much so that I''d often find myself turning around in panic, convinced that there was a Ghoul right behind me, only to find nothing but empty stale air. Coach Russell, who''d been walking at the center of the group and to my right, didn''t seem bothered in the slightest. Uncle Uter wasn''t so composed. If anything, he was turning around more than I was. Though, perhaps that was a blessing. An indication that he wouldn''t be taken unawares so easily. The Rippers down here were definitely stronger and swifter than the ones on the stairwell, so paranoia was completely warranted. They were smarter and more coordinated too. Slipping in and out of cover and darkened corners like ghosts in a cemetery. Testing our reactions in groups of three or four at a time. Two coming from one side while another pair flanking us from the back. Their sharp yellowed teeth a stark contrast to their natural camouflage, so that they sometimes appeared as floating, slobbering jaws with bright eyes hovering over them. Uncle Uter never failed to whimper when he saw one. Coach Russell yawned on occasion, but otherwise remained silent. Curiously, his bored demeanor spooked the Rippers to no end and they tried trudging around him in order to have a better position from which to get at us. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Coach Russell would end their pretensions by kicking off the ground. So hard that a small crater formed in the spot where he''d been standing. His movements were followed by loud squelching sounds and clouds of erupting viscera. As if someone had thrown a rotten carcass from very high up and allowed it to explode against a layer of concrete. The Rippers in front of us only moved their eyes. A motion that would have been imperceptible to me a week ago. I saw my chance and lunged. Thrusting my spear as I did charged forward so that the momentum carried over to my blow. I took the left one in the eye, causing the right one to leap forward. Razor-sharp fangs splitting the air in front of them and aiming for my throat. I abandoned the spear in an instant and dove to the side. Dodging the bite entirely while putting some distance between us. The Ripper gave chase. Murder and vengeance evident in its cruel stare. It took two strides, and yelped. As uncle Uter swung his battle-axe at its torso. The hefty thing penetrated the thick fur but got stuck in the thick cords of muscle beneath. The Ripper reeled and turned its attention to him. Discarding any semblance of self-preservation in favor of taking down one of its attackers. I drew a spare knife from my belt, just as coach Russel had taught me. In a motion so swift and graceful that it almost stunned me into inaction. I hadn''t taken the time to aim. After all, I hadn''t meant it to be anything other than a distraction. A glancing blow to take its attention away. But the blade didn''t land on its torso or its back or its legs. Instead, the tip found one of its eyes and kept going and going. Lodging itself deeply into the socket. The monster staggered, mouth slacking and drooling. Then it fell onto its side. Unmoving. I stared at it. Stunned. Uncle Uter also stared. Somehow more surprised than I was. He looked at me, then at the Ripper''s still warm corpse and then back at me again. We just, stood there. Stupefied by how, well that had gone, until a whistle cut through the silence. "That, was some show! Good job guys! Especially you, Cecil. Those reactions were top notch. Now then..." He said, stopping in between us. "Make your way over here gentlemen. I''ve brought down 14 of them on my end and they need to be finished off." ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ We kept our current pace for another hour. Striking down six more groups of Rippers and a group of Ghouls before we came upon our destination. It was a wide cylindrical stone that rose up from the ground. Roughly one meter tall and seven meters across. Four people were sitting atop it. Legs crossed as they chatted about this or that. None of them seemed to care about the hundreds of rapidly dissolving bodies re-uniting with the floor beneath. I recognized one of them as Coach Homer. Sporting a bloodied tank-top and stretchy yoga pants. Next to him were the other members of my team. Marco, Drew and Ramji. All of them wearing the same kind of heavy plate that me and uncle Uter had been given. Their conversation stopped abruptly once they saw us and my schoolmates sauntered over excitedly. Once more ignoring the piles of shattered bones they had to step over in order to reach us. "Hey man! Good to see you." Marco said, patting my back in a jovial manner. "We were getting kinda worried you know? Haven''t really seen you around town, haven''t seen you delving, haven''t seen you fishing. There was a rumor going around that you couldn''t move anymore." I looked over at him. Noting the way his armor appeared much smaller than it actually was when he was wearing it. His thick cords of muscle stood out far more than any other characteristics and the poor suit looked like it was about to snap at the seams at the slightest flex. It was, nothing short of impressive, even drawing some of my attention away from the hefty club that he balanced on one shoulder. Which was saying something, because the thing was bigger than he was. My smile was, a little forced. "I''ve been doing a lot of running. And drills. And studying. But mostly running." "Yeah, we''ve been running too. Coach Homer made us sprint all around the first and second floors all day yesterday." "Is that, normal for you guys?" "Nah man. I thought I was gonna die." "Yeah." Drew agreed. "That was really uncalled for. I mean, I got a new skill so I ain''t complaining too much, but damn. That was really rough. Ramji almost cried." "Hey! I wasn''t crying! Stop lying to the new kid!" Drew made a rude noise. "Yeah right. You weren''t crying. You were just moistening up your cheeks. Is that it?" Ramji waved her off. "Don''t listen to her Cecil. If there''s anyone you can count on, its me. I''ll have your back today." "Yeah you will. In that, you''ll be behind him when he''s fighting." "Hey! What are you trying to say right now!? Are you saying I''m scared?" Drew put her hands up and retreated somewhat. "I mean, you said it. Not me." "Don''t worry about it man." Marco cut in. "We know you''re only scared of long blue blouses." Ramji stammered. Then reddened. "First of all! I didn''t see the laundry line and it was dark! I thought it was a ghost! Second of all! I told you that in confidence!" "Yeah. That was fine. I can keep a secret. But you also told Emma and she can''t keep a secret to save her life." "Dammit Emma! How could you do this to me!?" "Chill out man." Drew snickered. "Only twenty or so people heard." "Twenty!?" "Yep. Well... twenty, so far." Part of me expected one of the coaches to say something. To break up the spat so that we could get on with our business today. Neither did anything however. Coach Homer stood off to the side. Visibly annoyed, but content to wait until the squabbling had ceased. Coach Russell was snickering at the comments. His face betraying the fact that he would have loved teasing them both right then and there. I rolled my eyes and went back to where uncle Uter was standing. His face was pale. A fact that stood out even in the poor lighting of the stone forest. "Uncle Uter? Are you all right?" "I, yes. I''m fine. I''m fine. I''m fine." "Uncle Uter, you said you were fine three times in a row." "I know. I''m just, a little winded. My training so far hasn''t been this, fast paced. Don''t worry about me. I''m fine. I''ll make sure you''re okay." My eyes sauntered over to the coaches again. My mind recalling how utterly overpowered both of them had shown themselves to be. "Maybe it''d be better if you trained a little bit more upstairs before coming back down here uncle." "Nonsense. I''m an adult. You guardian. I have to be here for you. Especially if you''re going to be in danger." I paused at that. Feeling a pang of guilt overtaking me. Uncle Uter sounded like a patient on life support and was wheezing like someone who''d been smoking two packs a day for the last fifteen years. ''He needs a break.'' I decided suddenly. ''He''s too old and too out of shape. Any lucky hit could kill him.'' I realized just how true it was as soon as I''d thought it. Uncle Uter had lived a mostly sedentary lifestyle before coming here and it showed. The mere act of running would have been a struggle. Not to mention doing so while wearing heavy armor and lugging around a massive axe. No. This was way too dangerous for him. I needed him to back off. At least for now. "Hey, uncle. What does your Analyzer say? What''s you highest stat?" "Endurance. At 1.2." I really, really tried to keep the pity out of my expression. ''He''s been trying so hard. Coming back half dead every single day. All that training. All that running and fighting, for a measly fifth of a point. How? Is it his age? Or is this the difference in talent that coach Russell was talking about?'' Belatedly, I realized that there was real possibility of him stumbling at a critical moment. So that he didn''t come back home. ''No. I''ll make sure that doesn''t happen. Uncle Uter can relax. I''ll do the fighting for him. For all of us. It won''t matter what kind of core he gets if I get a good one.'' "So? Let me see yours." I flinched. Turning my head to my own device and showing him.
Name: Cecil Fowler
Core: None
Level: 0
Vitality: 1.8
Endurance: 1.7
Potency: 1.4
Precision: 1.5
Fortitude: 1.5
Skills: None
His eyes went as wide as saucers while his jaw hit the floor. His own expression was a mixture of pride and shame as he turned his head to face me. "This only means that I need to work harder for you, Cecil. I wouldn''t be able to live with myself if you worked harder for this family than me." I smiled at him. Genuine relief washing through my body and mind. "Don''t push yourself too hard uncle. This might be because of the whole talent thing coach Russell was talking about. I''m not working nearly as hard as you are." The lie came easy and I saw that it made him feel better. "I''m fine, really. You can take a break after today. Do some paperwork for the company. You know, the thing they hired you to do?" "I...I...uh." He took a deep breath. Then another. Slowly regaining some of his color as the blood rushed back to his face. "No. Absolutely not. I am your guardian and this is a literal murder hole. You are not going anywhere without me." Chapter 10: The Sting. Uncle Uter was not having a good day. Not by a longshot. His face was beet red and his breathing sounded like the death throes of a particularly obese hippo. Nevertheless, he kept going. Trailing us, even as we sped down the stone forest that made up the first floor. It was odd, seeing him like this. Uncle Uter had always presented himself as someone people relied on. If someone else needed something, he''d lend it out or just flat out gift it to them. If an elderly neighbour needed help with their lawn or their cupboards or their plumbing, he would offer his assistance and always go above and beyond in whatever it was that he did. I''d always admired that part of him. The gratitude and respect people showed him made him seem, bigger. Larger than life. That illusion was now thoroughly shattered. Uncle Uter wasn''t an invincible giant. He was just another person doing their best. Same as me. Same as everyone. Realizing that he wasn''t the steady pillar I''d thought he was had shaken me to my core. Realizing that I was probably stronger than him shook me even further. Yet I wasn''t discouraged. He''d protected me all these years. Gave me a home. The least I could do was return the favor. I would get strong enough to keep him safe. Him and aunt Cheryl and Eva. I shook my head to dispel the distractions and made to retrieve my spear from the ghoul''s skull. The tip had landed right between its eyes, piercing the weak spot in the otherwise thick bone plating. Fangs of ivory had been sent flying in all directions when the blow landed. The outer rows of yellowed teeth splintering from the sudden force as the inner rows cracked and fractured. Green pus oozed from its saggy skin and gathered underneath it. Creating a viscous pool which promised a painful clumsy death to anything dumb enough to get near the poison. "Hey man. I just wanted to let you know how awesome that throw was." Marco commented. The praise felt genuine. Which was weird, because I was fairly certain he could''ve killed a hundred of those things by swinging his weapon in their general direction. "Hey, don''t do that." "Do what?" "Putting yourself down. I noticed you''ve been doing it a lot. This is, what, the start of your second week?" "Yeah, just about." "Then that throw puts you in the tippy top percent of noobs. Trust me, I''ve seen what passes for talent in the other dungeon towns. The new guys they bring in take months to be at your level. And do you know why that is?" Not really, but I could make an educated guess based on what coach Russell ranted about. "Because they don''t push themselves as hard?" "Because they don''t push themselves as hard." He agreed. "Seriously. They call it quits after four or five hours of hunting. Per day. No wonder they don''t get any good cores. Even your Uncle is doing better than them." Uncle Uter took that opportunity to vomit on the floor. Half-digested giblets mixing with the offal of disintegrating monsters. "I''ll take your word for it." I replied. Choosing to be as diplomatic as possible. "Nah dude. You don''t get it. Here, watch. I''ll use one of my skills. " He brought up his club. A long and thick stick of steel that was far wider at the end than at the handle. I felt the telltale tingle of magic at work and stared in fascination as both his arm and the weapon grew to a tremendous size. It was to the point where the limb wouldn''t have been out of place on a kaiju as it tore a city to pieces. My eyes went wide with surprise, followed closely by terror as I was suddenly made aware of how close the ceiling was. ''It took us more than half an hour to walk to the first floor. If that much bedrock collapses on top of us...'' "Stop! Stop you idiot! You''ll get us all killed!" He snorted. He actually freaking snorted. "Watch and learn Cecil. This is what you can look forward to." He brought the limb down with a thunderous crash. Slitting the earth apart at the point of impact. I heard the shockwave. Though perhaps it would have been more appropriate to say that I felt it instead. It was a boom that shook my very bones and loosened my bowels. Actually going so far as to lift me off my feet for a fraction of a second. A wave of displaced debris flew towards us. Coating me, uncle Uter and the rest of our party in a layer of ashy dust. It went everywhere. Into my eyes, my mouth, my lungs. I fell forwards. Coughing. Choking. Feeling like I was asphyxiating until a firm hand started patting my back and pouring water down my face. At the same time, strong swooshes went past my face. Waving away the rapidly settling cloud. "And that will mean two weeks worth of detention for you Marco. You will report to my office tomorrow after classes. Let''s see if I can shove some discipline into you this time." Marco blanched. "Oh come on coach Homer! I barely did anything! I used one skill! One! It wasn''t even my strongest one!" "Like that matters." Drew protested. "Do you have any idea how long it took me to clean and re-dye my hair yesterday? A long freaking time! That''s how much! I''m not a chinchilla! I can''t keep doing this!" "Oh cry me a river." "No man. Drew''s right. This has gotten way out of hand." Ramji protested. Hitting the side of his head as he spoke. The motion caused a small handful of ashes to fall from behind and from within his ears. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. "I have a date after this you know. I''m gonna need to shower for hours to get all of this off." Marco rolled his eyes. "Okay, first of all, its just a little dirt. You''ll manage. Second of all, this is my magic. You guys get to do all the spooky mental stuff, so you get to show off without getting dirty. What else am I supposed to do?" "Um, wait until there''s a monster in front of you?" Drew offered. "There were monsters in front of me!" "A monster. There was, a, monster. As in, singular. And it was a Ghoul. Cecil could handled it himself and he''s level 0. Without any magic." "I''m just saying that he should get to know us better if we''re gonna be team." "And he will get to know you better." Coach Homer assured him. "From a relatively safe distance. Until his stats are up to the task of surviving a real fight." "I don''t know junior." Coach Russell interjected. "I think Cecil''s been doing a bang-up job of surviving real fights so far. In fact, I think it might be time to step it up a notch." Coach Homer narrowed his eyes in a manner that turned my bowels to water. "No." "Yes." "No." "Yes." "No." "Junior, you do remember I''m your Pa, right? I could do this all day." He raised a hand to forestall his son. "I''ve also been trusted with Cecil''s tutelage. Which means I get the final say in what we do today as part of our little excursion. Which means yes. We go to the second floor. Today." "Its barely been a week since he got seriously injured up here on the first." "Which means he''s had a week to learn from his mistakes. Besides, I''ve seen Cecil fight and know how fast he''s been improving. I figure he only got hurt because you were playing too fast and loose with the curriculum." Coach Homer made a series of comical noises after that comment. Almost choking on empty air as his eyes blinked at hypersonic speeds. "You-you''re accusing me of playing fast and loose? You!?" "Tut-tut sonny boy. I said you were playing TOO, fast and loose. There''s nothing wrong with a bit of improvisation now and then, but ya got to know your limits and the limits of your students. You barrelled past those limits. Crashing through several brick walls and driving off a cliff. I am pushing him gently. There is a difference." ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ The second floor was nothing like the first. This one was a desert, where the last one had been a forest. Furthermore, this one wasn''t darkened by constant fog and dim lighting. No sir. This floor was one big field of sand that seemed to go on forever. Dunes dotting the landscape as far as the eye could see. It was, a strange sort of mirage where the ceiling looked like a sky at high noon. Complete with gently rolling clouds and cool winds the buffeted against our party the second we stepped off the stairs. And speaking of stairs, these ones were different too. The ones on the first floor had looked like regular steps carved out of a deep, dark cave. These ones were nigh-invisible, but for a thin layer of shimmering light shining off the topside and the errant grains of sand that clung to it when the wind blew them over. "Is there a chance we could lose sight of the stairs?" I asked, with more than a little trepidation. "Us? Totally." Drew said, nonchalantly. "Them? Not a chance. Coach Russell and coach Homer could probably pin a fly to a tree from a couple of kilometers away." "I could do it without killing them too." Coach Russell boasted. An impish smile creeping onto his features. "Now then. Its time to run kids. Go wild." "Wait, what do you mean?" I asked, suddenly getting a very bad feeling about this. "Exactly what I said, my star pupil. It just so happens that I wholeheartedly agree with Marco. You kids are a rambunctious lot and you need to get familiar with each other''s powers. That goes double for you, Cecil. Since you''ve hardly seen any magic until now." If looks could kill, coach Homer''s stare would have been enough to send him to the Hague for crimes against humanity. Coach Russell didn''t seem to care. Marco was shaking with excitement, as if he hardly got the chance to let loose his full might. Drew and Ramji were smiling too. For my part, I took a deep, steadying breath. Rubbing some of the soreness from my muscles in anticipation of the incoming carnage. ''I just hope uncle Uter can keep up.'' ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ As it turned out, he could. Barely. His outline was constantly chasing ours. Following along while my spear flew through the scalding air and into more scorpions. "Hey! That one was mine! I was controlling it!" Ramji protested. "Sorry! Sorry! It''s... I have trouble telling them apart." "The one he''s controlling aren''t trying to kill you." Drew offered. "Oh, and you can tell which ones I''m controlling because they''re barely standing or tearing each other apart. Feel free to kill them by the way. Mine will try to kill you right back if you get too close." Indeed, Drew''s magic was making the scorpions dance along the dunes and dusty underpasses. Their knife-like legs stabbing into the ground in erratic, hysterical patterns while their stingers lunged at anything that came too close. Sometimes, that meant sticking the piercing organ into the floor. Other times, the piercing pointy end would chance upon an ally. Another hapless scorpion or a Sand Gull that got too close for its own good. It was almost like a carnival. A whole block or its equivalent filled to bursting with partygoers re-enacting some play. Only the play was more akin to a grisly 80s movie. The kind where a musclebound actor could rip his way through hordes of foreigners unimpeded. She would wave and sparkles would fly out to coat the shells of her victims. She would holler in a way that made her voice carry through the din of battle while still retaining a melodious pitch. Her targets would then start biting and clawing and tearing. Over and over again with wild abandon. As if they knew no fear or pain or exhaustion. It made for some good combos when Ramji was near. He''d single out the best among the hordes and call them over to our side. Drew would them stop affecting them, leaving him to maneuver his rapidly growing numbers so that they flanked their former compatriots. After that, the tide would only keep turning more and more in our favor. Any errant beast that happened to break through the formation was finished off by either Marco or myself. Giving us plenty of chances to hone our own skills. Well, mostly his skills if I was being honest. Back on the first floor, my gains had been great enough to stun me, as I found myself one-shoting most monsters if I managed to fight them one on one. Here, the scorpions shrugged off all but the most critical of wounds. My spear bouncing off their shells after leaving barely noticeable indentations along the back of near the eyes. Thankfully, Marco was having no such trouble. All he had to do was swing his club and death would follow in his wake. The very same shells that had blocked my spear now imploding under the monumental weight of the deadly instrument. I was, more than a little clumsy at first. The soreness in my body acting as a constant distraction from the fights. Those faults lessened with time and I found myself falling into a sort of, flow state the more we ran and the more battles we won. My mind isolating the mounting agony into a little corner while the rest of my brain dedicated itself to finding the right position for the right moment. Looking for the perfect chance to pick off an otherwise healthy monster while it was distracted by one of Ramji''s enslaved minions or Drew''s frenzying choir. In that same vein, minutes turned to hours. We ran and fought and ran and fought and ran again. All under the scorching heat of the false desert sun. We hunted chickens the size of cars, with velociraptor-like claws instead of wings. We hunted wasps whose elongated bodies resembled a grotesque mix of insect and hyena. Four legs scrambling over embankments as buzzing wings kicked up localized sand storms that threatened to blind us. We hunted a thing that looked like a floating starfish, with three great eyes in its center. One blue. One yellow. One red as freshly-drawn blood. It fired rays that froze what little moisture the was in the air, until a cool mist robbed us of our senses. Marco made his arm big again and brought it down just as he had earlier. And that was that. I was so engrossed in the task, that coach Russell''s voice took me completely by surprise. "That''ll be enough for today kids." "Aw." My three friends said in unison. "None of that now." He chided. "We''ve made a lot of progress remarkably quickly. We might even go for a boss sometime soon." "I can keep going." I said, not quite aware of how much pain would come later. "I bet you could. That''s not the issue though. Your uncle''s been stung. We have to get him to a healer. Now." Chapter 11: Getting Used to It. I was sitting down on a plastic chair outside the hospital. Holding my head with both hands. The hallway was immaculate as I sat there. Free from dust and debris to the point where it gave off an imposing, unwelcoming feeling. As if everything had been sterilized to the point where the mere presence of people disrupted the natural order of this place. Worse was the incessant ticking of the clock mounted on the wall. Its sounds penetrating through the pervasive silence with every passing second. It felt, ominous. At least to me. I couldn''t shake the feeling that it was some sort of countdown. Some, vile reminder that I might lose someone precious. Tick. Tick. Tick. I recalled the way I''d been moving through the sandy dunes. How slow the scorpions had seemed. Tick. Tick. Tick. I recalled how right everything had felt. How I''d had a newfound mastery over my own movements. How each of my heartbeats felt like thunder roaring inside of me. Tick. Tick. Tick. I recalled the others. How they had moved. The casual ease with which they''d dispatched the monsters standing in front of us. Tick. Tick. Tick. I recalled the jealousy I''d felt then. Looking at people who could probably kill me with a casual backhand. I wanted that for myself. I wanted that power. Tick. Tick. Tick. I recalled some conversations we had. How, normal they seemed when we were just sitting around and talking. How I''d thought the four of us could be friends. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. "Cecil? Cecil, you there?" My eyes went up. Staring at Marco, Ramji and Drew. The three of them didn''t look so sure of themselves now. Rather, they seemed, crestfallen. Ashamed. "Hey man. Sorry about your uncle." Marco began. "I... we, messed up. We should have been keeping tabs on him too." "Yeah." Drew agreed. Her previously braided hair unkept and tangled up as she stood in front of me. "Honestly, we got distracted. You were doing so well that we, kinda figured it was okay to keep going. I mean, you were doing really, really good back there." "Yeah man. You were on fire." Ramji piled on. "And we''re all really glad you''re on our team now. And we''re also sorry for what happened to your uncle. Is he...?" "They said he''s going to be okay." I told them. "Apparently it was all good. Coach Russell was keeping an eye on him, but he... my uncle..." I sucked in a breath. "He forgot to finish off a scorpion the coach had served up. That was it. Coach Russell called it a momentary lapse in judgement. Said it was normal." The three of them exchanged looks. "I mean, he''s not exactly, wrong. Per se." Drew admitted. "That kind of thing is pretty normal around these parts. I mean, I''ve been stung by a scorpion before. It''s something you kinda have to experience for yourself." No one else said anything. All eyes on her. "Okay, look. Its like this, right? You have to delve in order to level up and you have to level up because the apocalypse is happening in three or four years. I''m coming from the viewpoint of my family. Ya can''t get good at killing monsters without getting a few scratches along the way. That, and its always better to get a few licks in now, when the stakes are low, rather than later when we''re level five or something and hunting down Lava Spiders down on the 20th floor." "But she''s no saying that its a good thing your uncle got hurt." Ramji added hastily. "Isn''t that right, Drew?" "Oh, no. That is not what I meant at all man. Its a real bummer what happened to your uncle." "And we wanted you to know that we''re here for you. No matter what happens." Marco finished. He then moved to take a seat next to me. His eyes going to the ceiling as if in contemplation. "Also, I''ve been doing some thinking. Its not right what you''re going through. Coming over without knowing the truth and getting put into a position where you have to fight. Its messed up." He pointed a thumb at himself. "I''m fine with going down into the dungeon because I like to fight. I mean, I really like to fight. I''m always snoring through homeroom no matter what the teachers say, because I always tired from training until midnight." He caught himself mid-boast and cleared his throat to bring himself back on topic. "But I know that''s not what the real world is like. Not yet, anyway. I shouldn''t have assumed you would be like that from the start and I shouldn''t have gotten irritated that you got hurt the first time." "You were irritated that I got hurt?" "Not anymore." He clarified hastily. "Coach Homer''s been drilling a new perspective into me. Into all of us." "I can''t feel my legs half the time." Ramji quipped. "And we''ve come to, better appreciate what you''re going through." Drew added. Rolling right over Ramji''s words. "We don''t want to harass you or anything. Its bad enough that we''ve been one person short this whole time. The last thing we need is for our new teammate to hate us." She hesitated before continuing. "Also, you''re like, the most interesting thing that''s happened to this place in about ten years. We''d want to be your friends, even if you weren''t our new teammate. But since you are, we have to watch your back. Because you''ll probably be watching ours in no time at all." "That''s right." Ramji cut in again. "Which is why we''re here to introduce ourselves again. So all of can start out fresh, help you et n awesome core and become the best team in town." He presented his hand again. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. "Hi. My name''s Ramji. I like to control monsters and make them fight each other without getting too involved. I love hiking and taking pictures. I hope we can be friends." Drew stepped up again after I shook Ramji''s hand. "Hey there. My name''s Drew and I like to dance and party. I also like to make monsters party but not in the same way. I like jokes, cats, dogs, especially puppies, and I love me some fancy coffee. Nice to meet you. Again. I hope we can get along." I shook her hand as well, until Marco took his turn. "So, hello. I''m Marco. As you know. And I''m finding this whole, introduction thing to be very awkward. But, I''m a team player if nothing else, so I''ll keep it going. My big thing is loyalty. I''ll have your back as long as you have mine. No if, ands, or buts. I don''t like reading much. Or playing games. I''m a physical kind of guy. I need to run to feel alive. I need to lift so I can feel good. Its a, sense of fulfillment, you know? Looking at your gains in the mirror is always satisfying. Fighting is my escape. My way to relax. But I know better than to think everyone is like that." He then shook my hand again and waited . "Oh, right. Sorry. Uh. My name is Cecil. As you all know. I''m..." I took a deep breath. Surprised to find some of the tension gone now that I was actually talking to this lot as if they were real people instead of battle-hungry maniacs. "I''m really over my head. I''ve got no idea what''s happening or what''s going on. I''ve got no idea how cores work or which one I''m going to get, which is getting to be very stressful as coach Russell pushes me further and further. I, like working out. At some level. I had fun delving with you guys too." I considered leaving things there, but found that I wanted to say more. That I needed to say more. That doing so would help. "Which really surprised me because I''m also scared to death of the monsters. Its like, being with you guys, makes me less scared. More open to pushing myself. Because I see how awesome you guys are and I want it. I want that power. I feel stupid when that happens, because I just started training while you guys have been doing this for years, but that doesn''t matter to me." I clenched my fists. So tightly that my knuckles went white. "I want to be strong. Strong enough that my family doesn''t have to worry about the apocalypse. Strong enough that I can make sure they''re all right." ''Strong enough that nobody dares take them hostage.'' I thought to myself. ''Strong enough to rip anyone who tries fifteen new assholes from which to shit themselves.'' That part was left unsaid. Lest it ruin this development. Getting friends now was critical, to the point where I was kicking myself for not thinking about the issue before. This was a life or death situation. Where my entire family''s future was on the line. A wandering monster wouldn''t care that these guys, or more accurately, their families, were kidnappers and that I hadn''t done anything to deserve being here. What I needed was allies that would help me get stronger. People who''d be willing to take a hit for me while I was still vulnerable. People that I could trust implicitly right now. Not just because we''d be fighting together, but because they and to a greater extent, their families, must have some kind of influence here in the town. At the very least, they''d have more say in the goings on that anyone in my family. Perhaps enough to smooth over any, mistakes, that me or mine might make without realizing it. ''Or a failed escape. If an opportunity presents itself and sours at the last minute.'' I was still convinced that getting a core was absolutely crucial to our survival, but after that... There would be a lot more leeway to consider our options. Becoming a good and trusted friend to them might mean the difference between life and death sometime in the future. There were no downsides that I could think of too. It would be stupid to turn this chance away. "With that in mind. I hope that we can get off on the right foot starting from now. Please let me be your friend and please take good care of me." "That''s the spirit." Marco chuckled. Clasping my hand more tightly than before. "And don''t worry about being greedy. When it comes to power, that''s one of the best things you could be. There are way worst qualities out there." "Yeah." Drew agreed. "You could be like Ramji and be scared of ghosts." Ramji whirled on her. "I knew it! You''re the one spreading those rumors!" She gave him a sidelong glance and shrugged. "I don''t know what you''re talking about." "Liar! You''re such a freaking li...!" "SHHHHHHHHUUUSH!" We all shook, turning to the room where uncle Uter had been placed. The nurse looking after him was the same one who''d been tasked with looking after me after my run in wit the Rippers. She, didn''t look too happy to see me. Or any of us for that matter. "Kids. I''m glad that you have so much energy to spare, but please keep in mind that this is a hospital. One with patients that will not appreciate being bothered while they rest." "Sorry." My three teammates said in unison. "Sorry won''t cut I''m afraid. I''m going to need you all to vacate the premises. Now." She turned to look at me before I could move a muscle or protest her decision. "Not you. You uncle would like a word." I nodded eagerly. Standing up at once and making my way inside the room. The accommodations I saw there were fair. A large double bed pressed against the side wall, with innumerable do-dats connected to it and screens on either side that showcased all manner of graphs and numbers. The blankets were thick and fluffy. Devoid of any stains or discolorations that might have indicated prior use. The mattress and pillows were similarly stuffed. Appearing as if someone had created a material not too dissimilar to actual clouds. There was a window to the left of the bed. Large and expansive so that it allowed the room''s occupants a view of the wide stretches of pristine forests surrounding the town of Dunstonberry. The setting sun was striking the pines and spruces at that moment. Giving the world an eerie sense of calmness and serene beauty as it was dyed in golden hues. The impact was, breathtaking, to say the least. Uncle Uter didn''t look impressed however. His face betrayed a misery so deep that it beggared belief. His body retaining much of the tension I had relinquished after he was brought here. "Uncle? Are you, feeling okay?" "That''s a difficult question Cecil." He said with no small amount of exasperation. "Physically, I feel fine. At least, I don''t have any lingering pain as far as I can tell right now." "That''s great!" I said excitedly. "I was worried for a second there. You know?" Uncle Uter said nothing for a few seconds. Leaving me to stand awkwardly at his side. When at last he spoke, his voice was quivering. "Cecil. I don''t want you going into the dungeon again." I blinked in surprise. "Huh? Wha? Why?" His face grew taut. The lines stiffening as if he was barely restraining himself with all the willpower he had left. "Are you really asking that, Cecil? Look at me. Look at what happened to me the second I made a mistake. Do you honestly think I would want this for you? Do you think I could live with myself if anything like this happened to you?" He shook his head. "No. Its better that we lay low and do the bare minimum to get halfway decent cores without going into the dungeon. After that, we can do administrative work when the, end comes. We''ll be safe, at least." "That''s the stupidest thing I''ve ever heard in my life." Uncle Uter looked at me. Aghast. Funnily enough, I was fairly certain I had the exact same expression on my face. The words had simply, flown out of my mouth. Thoughts turning to sounds before I could supress them. However, I didn''t want to apologize now that they''d been said. Indeed, I found that I stood by those words more and more as the implications of having bad cores ran through my head. "Uncle. No. Your idea isn''t a good one. In fact, it might be the single dumbest thing you''ve ever said to me." I waved about the room. "Haven''t you noticed something odd? Odder than the usual, I mean? No? Well I''ll tell you. There aren''t any people with low-ranked cores here. Not in charge anyway. Coach Russell talks about them as if they were a burden. Now, I don''t know how bad the end will be, but it was apparently bad enough that Mr. Robertson had to bail from his original timeline and try again with knowledge from the future. I think there''s an argument to be had about the, ethics of the operation. But the time for protests is not now. We don''t know what these people want from us. Neither you nor I have any idea. Who''s to say they won''t kick us out if we get bad cores? Who''s to say they won''t leave us out to dry when the real bad stuff comes burrowing out of the ground?" I shook my head in exasperation. "No. We have to focus and we have to fight. Fight like all our lives depend on it. Because they do. I refuse to fumble this opportunity when it might be our best shot at having a fighting chance!" "Cecil. I..." He bit his lip. "I''m afraid. Not just for me, but for you. I''ve told you this before. I''m your guardian. If anything happens to you..." "I''ll at least have died on my feet. Trying to save the people I love." I finished. The sternness of my voice was enough to shock me. As were the tears gathering in my uncle''s eyes. Chapter 12: Punching Up. "Are you still fighting with your uncle?" Ramji asked. "We''re not fighting." I lied. "Its just a disagreement." "Is that so?" Marco asked. "Tell me, would you be willing to compromise with his point of view?" "No. Because its a stupid point of view." "I don''t know man. Sounds like a fight to me." I sighed. Shifting my balance around before wailing on the punching bag from a different angle. The thing barely shook, even when I used my full strength. So, I hit it again and again and again. Putting my full weight behind each and every strike until my knuckles were red and raw. "Come on man. We''ve known each other for, what, two weeks now? You can''t seriously tell me that I''m wrong." "Not at all." Marco assured me. "In fact, I think you''re the sanest one in the conversation. You can''t just, stop going to the dungeon. That''s ridiculous. Even if you had the best core around, something around the 7th stage like Elsie or her folks, it won''t mean anything if you don''t train. Doing these exercises is fun and all, but you can''t substitute real-world experience." I kept punching the bag. Alternating between hooks and jabs, with the occasional kick here and there. "I mean, look at you now. You''re hitting a practice bag made from third-floor materials and your hands are barely getting bruised. Good call working out without gloves by the way. A lot of folks don''t like it but its a surefire way to sneak in a few fractions of Fortitude and Vitality while letting out some steam. I know it hurts, but both coach Russell and my own dad swear by it. Sorry. Tangent. Where was I?" "You guys were talking about his uncle." Ramji supplied helpfully. "Right, the stupid, no-going-into-Dungeons idea. Think on this. Do you think you could have gotten as strong as you are now if you hung around doing nothing?" "No." I said at once. "I''ve never been this powerful." "Right, and how do you think your uncle compares to you?" I bristled at the comment. "That''s, not entirely fair. He''s older than me and he was levelling more slowly even when we were doing the same things inside the dungeon." "Okay, sure. But I bet the gap wasn''t that large was it? Let me guess. Half a point?" "More or less." I confirmed. "Good. Now, you''ve been going with us and coach Russell to the fifth floor and you can at least hold your own there. So long as we stay by your side. Meanwhile, your uncle''s been doing push-ups and crunches this whole time. Tell me, has he gotten any stat to two?" "Only Endurance." I confirmed. "And? What does your Analyzer say?" I stepped back from the bag swaying on the thick chains, wiped the sweat from my forehead with a warm towel and made to check.
Name: Cecil Fowler
Core: None
Level: 0
Vitality: 3.4
Endurance: 3.5
Potency: 2.1
Precision: 2.0
Fortitude: 3.5
Skills: None
"It''s a lot higher than his." I confirmed. "Of course it is." Marco piled on. "Because you can''t get truly powerful without fighting. No matter how hard you try, you''ll always end up trailing behind. Always. Which means you are right and your uncle is wrong. There''s no two ways about it. No matter how big the gap between you two was, he could have narrowed it by fighting as hard as you have. The fact that he''s not doing that means that he''s wasting his potential." "I know all of that already." I replied curtly. Focusing on the target once more before unleashing a flurry of blows that would have made a pro-boxer blush. I hit it for what felt like an eternity. Not stopping for a second as the pain in my hands began to flare up again. The bag had small tears around its exterior by the time I relented. That, and my hands had started to form new blisters. "So, if you know that, you need to tell your uncle." Ramji explained. Acting as if it were the easiest and most obvious thing in the world. "Believe me. I''ve tried. Somehow, it doesn''t stick no matter what I say." Ramji nodded sagely. Closing his eyes and leaning against one of the pillars within the cavernous gym. "Right. Okay. Think about it like this. What''s the scariest animal out there?" The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. "In the dungeon?" "No. In the outside, totally mundane world. What''s the scariest animal?" "I don''t know. Bears, I guess? Or tigers, depending on where you live." "Right." He said, placing his hands together and bobbing them up and down. "Let us go, with tigers. How do you think you would do against a tiger?" "With my bare hands?" I thought about it. Recalling the documentaries I''d seen. "I''m not sure I like my chances unarmed. It might be different if I had my spear though." Ramji and Marco chuckled. "What''s so funny?" "The things you just said man." Marco stammered in between giggles. "You realize that tigers are like, normal animals. Right? You fight Rippers every day and you can kill three or four without help by now. Do you actually think there''s a tiger out there that can take on a fully awakened Ripper down on the first floor?" That was good point. One I hadn''t considered. "I guess not. But I still don''t see where you''re going with this." "That''s easy. Tigers are the metric you''ll use. If a Ripper is slightly stronger than a tiger, then you can use those as familiar examples. All you have to do is go to your uncle and explain, carefully, that there are going to be billions of tigers and their equivalents raining down on every corner of the globe soon. And then you move on from that to explain that they will be the least of humanity''s problems. Like, see this. I like kaiju movies. I''m a huge fan. Now, show your uncle one of those movies and tell him about all the monsters on he lower floors that make them look like puppies. Here''s a hint. There''s a lot of them." Ramji was nodding along. Seemingly satisfied with the direction the conversation had taken. "And even if he keeps being stubborn, we''ll still be your friends." A pang of guilt stabbed at my heart then. My mind recalling the selfish reasons I''d had for wanting to get closer to them. I had been considering getting their help in some indirect way if and when an escape became necessary. Not caring too much about them as people. That had certainly changed by now. Marco, Drew and Ramji might not be, normal. At least, not in the conventional sense that I was used to. But they were good people. Decent, honest and upfront about their opinions. They hadn''t stuck around because someone had told them to. They''d become genuinely interested in helping me grow and in listening to my problems. To the point where I''d been forced to reciprocate some of their care. ''It isn''t like they''ve lied to me or anything. Monsters are real and they are coming. The only logical course of action is to keep getting stronger as fast as possible. Anything else would be throwing our lives away. The town is the best place to do that. Granted, I still want some backup options. But those can wait until after I''ve got my core. After all of us get good cores.'' I felt more shame and frustration rising to the surface. Rooted in the fact that we, out of all the people in Canada or the world for that matter, had gotten this chance. That there might be millions, heck, billions of people that would have jumped at the chance to survive a coming apocalypse with ease. That my uncle was wasting such a precious opportunity. ''Oh man. This place has changed me faster than I thought. It wasn''t too long ago that I was considering streaming a few speed runs as a hobby and now here I am. Wanting to throw myself into more danger to get magical powers. Wanting to get my uncle more involved in the danger too.'' It was at that point that Drew spoke up for the first time during this conversation. Sauntering forward as her ponytail swished behind her. "All of that is well and good." She began. Giving the three of us condescending looks. "But there is a much easier way to make Cecil''s point." "And that would be?" "The punching bag." She answered haughtily. My eyes glanced back at the tarnished sections of the bag I''d finished creating. "Not that one." She corrected. Now sounding a little annoyed. "The normal one. Like, the kind that normal athletes use out there." "We have normal punching bags here?" I looked around to see if I could spot one. Yet all I saw in the underground gym were the same exercise machines that looked like they belonged in a factory floor, rather than a workout space. "They''re obviously not here Cecil. What would we even use them for? No. The normal ones are in the kiddie gym." "The one where Eva has P.E?" "Yep. That''s the one." She started making motions with her hands as she spoke, as if to illustrate her master plan. "See, the little ones use them to practice their punches and kicks and other martial arts. Its a decent way to get fractions of points if you were born with a core, since we weren''t allowed to go down into the dungeon until we were thirteen. Thing is, those things don''t last. At all. I know I broke at least one when I was ten and Marco went through them like they were pizzas." "Ah yeah. I remember kicking one of those sand-filled ones over the roof of my house." He sighed wistfully. "Those were fun times. I got into so much trouble though. Turns out it landed on my grandpa''s head. He was okay, but his garden wasn''t." "Fascinating story. Anyway, we get one of the older ones, the ones that are about to be thrown out and we show your uncle what you can do to it. That way, he''ll have to confront the fact that going into the Dungeon is the only way to grow properly. He''ll have to take training more seriously after that." "I don''t think that''s what the problem is," I said. "I think he''s afraid." "Well duh." Marco interjected. "That''s nothing new though. We''re all afraid when we go into the Dungeon." I whirled my head to stare at him. My eyes feeling like they were seconds away from popping out of my skull. "What? Did I say something wrong?" "You." I clarified. "You are afraid when you go into the Dungeon?" "Of course. That''s what makes it fun." I kept staring into his soul for a few more seconds. Trying and failing to process this new information. He noticed and rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner. "Don''t be like that man. I''m being one hundred percent real with you. Going into the Dungeon is scary. No one''s saying it isn''t. I mean, I like going and I have fun there. But that doesn''t mean it isn''t scary. There''s a reason why healers are so in-demand no matter what their core is. Everyone gets hurt and no one likes getting hurt. Well, some people do like it, but that''s neither her nor there. The point is that taking hits is a part of life. Maybe that wasn''t the case before, when the world didn''t have magic, but it sure is the case now." "He''s right." Drew confirmed. "I don''t want to fight monsters for a living. I want to be a DJ sometime in the future. However, I know that being alive in general is going to get very tricky without being at least level 3 or 4. And that''s the barest minimum man. Its gonna get a lot worse before it gets better. Your uncle, listen. Its gonna sound cruel. But he''s gonna have to suck it up." "Its not like that." I insisted. Angrier now that they were dancing around the issue. "He''s afraid for both of us. Not only is he refusing to go to the Dungeon; he''s also trying to keep me from going." Ramji shook his head. "Damn man. That''s crazy." "No. Ramji. Its not crazy. That''s a completely normal reaction. If I were in his shoes and someone told me Eva was going into the Dungeon, then you can bet anything that I''d be running down her group to stop her from going. By force if need be. The problem I have is that I know where he''s coming from and how much he cares while also knowing he''s dead wrong and that its gonna cost him and my aunt the chance to get halfway-decent cores. I..." My hands went up in the air. "I don''t know what to do. Okay? I''m confused. I know what has to be done and I know that doing it will hurt the people I care about. Also, I think about what would happen if... if I didn''t come back. How that would affect them. I have to be strong to protect them but I might die in the process of getting there. Its hard." Marco put a hand on my shoulder. "Dude, you''re not going to die. Stop being so dramatic." "Yeah." Ramji agreed. "We got your back. No matter what happens. Besides, fighting monsters might be dangerous, but its not that dangerous." "What he said. People have written books about all the floors and the bosses they have. We''ll be fine." They all looked at each other for a moment, before nodding in unison. "Tell you what." She continued. "First, we''ll go get that punching bag. So we can show your uncle what you can do and he finally stops worrying about you. Second, we stop by a few shops around town. Maybe get up to a little mischief. It''ll make you feel better." "I don''t know about that." "No. You don''t understand man. You''re not the Cecil from a few weeks ago. The stuff that would have killed you then will barely bruise you now. Time to take advantage of it." Ramji must have sensed my hesitation, because he stepped forward then. "Look, if all goes well with your uncle, then that''s that. No need to blow off steam. But if it doesn''t go well, you''ll need some way to relax. To get rid of all that tension, you know? Just give it a shot and stop if you don''t like what we get up to." I gazed at him. At all of them. Noting that they were genuinely trying to help. "Okay. Let''s have a go at it." ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Eva was delighted by my display with the punching bag. Squealing in delight as I kicked it higher and higher. The impact resonating like canon shots among the woods. Marco, Drew and Ramji were cheering me the whole way through. My aunt and uncle were, less impressed. So we left after a short while and made our way all over the town proper. Throwing axes on a cordoned off-range. Sprinting up a skiing slope and then going down on garbage can lids. Eating pizza and ice-cream until we got sick. It was dumb and nonsensical. The kind of thing I would never have considered before coming here. I had so much fun. Chapter 13: Fishing. I was sitting by the embankment. Still as a statue. Watching as the jellyfish''s gargantuan tentacles drifted further and further from the water''s surface. It''s spherical core was a translucent purple, with stringy hints of bright blue puffs and bright red lines running down the length of its nigh-invisible tendrils. Frustratingly, it also made no noise as it hovered through the air. To the point where any sensible passerby would mistake the vibrant lifeform for a balloon or a hologram if they didn''t know any better. The aquatic monsters inhabiting the underground lake bolted in other directions at its passing. Those that could breathe underwater dove in as deep as they could. Settling on the bottom of the lakebed. Those who were unable to breathe underwater, or otherwise too weak to chance a trip down there for fear of scarier predators, made for the shoreline. Pushing against the others so that they could grab the safest spots at the edges of the pool. A couple of fights had broken out by that point. Isolated skirmishes where tooth and claw found squishy flesh or scaled hide. The losers often found themselves eaten. Not by the winner, but by lurking spectators who''d had the foresight to remain out of the conflict so that they could remain in top form. If the winners were smart, they would leave it at that and relish their newly formed territory. If they weren''t, they often found themselves joining the loser as a side dish. The sea gargoyles were especially susceptible to such follies. Their mossy, stony flesh making them far too overconfident in battle. It was impressive enough, when you were fighting a group of them and any glancing blow did little to no damage. Less so when they were up against Purple Launchers. The venom-infused vomit the frogs spat seeped into the outer layer of skin and into the bloodstream with alarming alacrity. Causing sepsis and necrosis faster than one could blink. Limbs turning grey and purple and black with popping bulbous zits that led to excessive blood loss. The fact that even those filthy frogs were scared out of their minds said something about the giant jellyfish. "Do. Not. Attack." Ramji whispered. His voice even and stable, despite the face he was making. "Gee. Thanks for the warning. Here I was about to ride my pony." Ramji twitched, but said nothing. "I feel like we could take it." Marco offered. His tone curiously devoid of tension. "Okay, first of all, no. That''s stupid." Ramji countered. "That, is a boss monster and we are on the fourth floor. I like my legs attached to my hips, thank you very much." "I don''t know." Drew commented form the side. "It doesn''t look THAT scary." "It''s bigger than a whale!" "How do you know? Have you ever seen a whale?" Ramji sputtered. "I''ve seen pictures!" "Small pictures. What if those were all tiny little fish that someone photographed from up close?" Ramji sputtered harder. "That''s.... That''s not.....No! That''s stupid and you''re stupid. Look at that thing!" "I am looking at it Ramji. I have eyes. All I''m saying is that we could possibly take it. If we play our cards right." Ramji blinked several times in quick succession. His eyes somehow bulging out more and more with every blink until he resembled a crazy toons character. "You. Are. Crazy. Cecil, tell her she''s crazy." I said nothing. Thinking about our possibilities. I had no magic yet, but I did have pretty good stats for a level 0. Indeed, my numbers were getting close to some of my peers at level 1. Furthermore, Marco, Ramji and Drew were all close to reaching level 2. They had enough magic skills to make short work of anything on the top 3 floors. Short of boss monsters of course. Their resources were more or less topped off as we''d had a long break and a picnic. We''d hadn''t suffered any major wounds either. Only some scratches here and there. Given what skills our team had to work with, one physical damage dealer / buffer, and two crowd controllers, it would be a struggle from the get go. Someone like Emma or Yuann might have had a better time of it. What with their blast-attacks and long-range sniping magic. For us... "Yeah, no. I''m going to have to bail." "Aw man. You guys are no fun." Marco complained. "Hey! I''m plenty of fun." Ramji snapped. "It''s just that living people are more fun than corpses. You ever seen a fun corpse? No? Yeah, I didn''t think so. We weren''t even supposed to be here without coach Russell or coach Homer. I only came here because you guys wanted to go fishing. I am not up for swimming with the fishes. No thank you. Lets get out of here. We can go fishing another day. After someone else raids this place." "Yes mom." Drew sighed. Regardless, we shuffled backwards and began moving away. Staying on our bellies as we crawled through wet bushes and muddy marshes. Slimy branches clung on to our bodies and faces as we kept moving. Out gear getting stuck on thorny plants that poked holes in our padded armor. ''Man, aunt Cheryl is going to kill me.'' I thought sourly. I was honestly in awe of how much I had changed over the past month. The old me would have scoffed at mere idea of going anywhere in the dungeon without adult supervision. Now, I felt those kinds of risks were justified if it meant getting a few more stats to rise a little bit faster. Heck, I hadn''t even come for training. All I''d wanted was to make good use of the break coach Russell had sprung up on me. Playing super Dario was no fun anymore, was my senses and dexterity were so heightened that all the stages were incredibly trivial. None of the other shooters or hack and slash actions did much for me either. Video-games were supposed to be an escape. They didn''t work if I kept thinking about how useless and wimpy the protagonists were and contemplating how I could be doing so much better. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Marco had come over as I languished. Offering to bring me along to one of their fishing trips, and that had been that. And here I was. Crawling through the mud and the rapidly disintegrating corpses of the monsters we''d killed along the way. Those too would have unnerved the old me. Even the me from a couple of weeks ago. Now, the smell of the bright orange fog dissipating through the air wasn''t anything more than an annoyance. Another fact of life that made living just that little bit more inconvenient. The path here wasn''t even particularly exciting. My spear could find the monster''s throats or eyes with casual ease and the others could dispatch the creatures with the slightest flex of their skills. In fact, I''d bet anything I could put on a good show on the fifth floor by now. If only there weren''t so many other factors to consider. "Hey, I forgot to ask, is your uncle okay?" I grunted. "He''s been okay for three weeks now. The hit gave him a lot of extra vitality. He''s fine. Physically." "Physically." Ramji repeated. "Yes." "Not mentally?" I didn''t answer that. "Hey, it''ll be okay man. People get over wounds faster than you''d think. He''ll be back to normal in no time." That was exactly the problem. Uncle Uter and aunt Cheryl were back to normal. Their normal. They were doing the barest minimum in order to get a core. A pattern of behavior that would come back to haunt them. "I...I don''t know what to do." I admitted. "I don''t want either of them to put themselves at risk, but they''re not taking this seriously. None of their stats are at two yet." Drew and Marco winced. "Yeah. That''s gonne be a little difficult to deal with. Sorry about that man." "Its not so bad. Plenty of people out there have bad cores. Its not the end of the world." Only it was. The end of the world was literally coming. That was why I was constantly pushing myself to keep up with these three. "I...I don''t know. Its complicated." "Yeah, we know. You''re good man. You can always talk to us if anything comes up." I nodded. Momentarily forgetting where I was and dipping my chin on a puddle with roughly three dozen leeches swimming through it. I shuddered and began to pull them off. All while Drew snickered. "Were you not looking at what was in front of you?" I didn''t respond. Choosing instead to maneuver around the wet patch. I kept going and going. Ignoring any sounds the soft mud made as I trudged through it. Stopping only when Marco swore. I looked back. So did Ramji and Drew. All of us took in his bulk. The way his club was strapped to his torso. His arm. More specifically, the way it was wrapped around a near-invisible layer of... My eyes bulged out. So did Ramji''s and Drew''s. The whole floor rumbled. "RUN!" Drew screeched. I didn''t need to be told twice. I was on my feet and sprinting towards the stairs before the others could blink. It would have been an easy task. A simple series of lunges that would deliver me safely to the third floor. If it weren''t for Marco. His arm had been snagged by a tendril and I heard as he wailed in agony. His rapidly growing body being dragged through the mud and sludge and debris. Closer and closer to the gelatinous blob that made up the boss'' main body. The membranes it used to digest its prey. I felt Drew''s magic activating at the same time as Ramji''s. The former''s skills shook the boss''s frame in mid-air. Its bulk swaying from side to side as its coordination took a massive hit. The latter sent eight monsters into a mad dash towards their own deaths. The jellyfish was assaulted by gargoyles and Purple Launchers and Diamond Snappers. All of them chewing on the deadly limbs trailing across the water without any regards for their own lives. The boss reacted swiftly. Pulling its tentacles back into its body until all the attacking monsters were absorbed into it. I saw their shells as the process of digestion began. Noting how their skins and scales and hides gave way to exposed muscles and then to pale white bones over the course of seconds. I pulled out one of my older spears. The second one I''d received to replace my original weapon. I balanced it over my shoulder, straining my muscles as my fingers balanced the object in just the right way as to maximize the distance it would travel. Then I let the spear fly. Throwing it with all my supernatural strength. It found the tendril trapping Marco. Pinning it to the ground at the half-way point and causing the rest of the limb to slacken. Marco freed himself, scrambling to the ground on all fours as he kept growing and growing and growing. Until his own mass was equal, if not greater than the boss monster''s own. He grabbed his club with both hands. Fingers thick as fully grown adults curling around the handle as he wheezed. "Take this you bastard!" He bellowed. Throwing the titanic hunk of metal at the center of the thing. It flew true and hit its mark. Splattering incandescent globules of blood in all directions. The splattered bits catching fire when exposed to the oxygen in the atmosphere. Drew took the chance to pounce. Blasting the whole lake with magic. Sending hundreds of weaker monsters into a mad frenzy where they tore and ripped and scratched at each other''s eyes and throats. Lost in a self-perpetuating cycle of bloodlust and ecstasy. Their loosened inhibitions hade it easier for Ramji to take hold, focusing their wanton slaughter on the recovering boss monster. It merely whirled its tendrils about. Snatching new hapless victims with every swipe, even as they roiled and bit and slashed at it with their claws. I drew my second spear. Throwing it towards the center of the gelatinous mass. Then I threw a third and a fourth. Dabbing the tips in the black mud beneath me for good measure. My last weapon went to Marco, and he wasted no time in enlarging it. Fueling it further and further until it resembled a telephone pole, or a particularly straight tree. He huffed, and puffed and threw it with all the rage he had left in him. The projectile sank deep into the boss. Releasing shockwaves within it that shook all the half-digested monsters it was currently feeding upon. I thought that was the end of things and began preparing myself for a hasty retreat, when I noticed that its previous color was giving way. The thing''s main body, was turning dark purple and dark. Almost as if it was... poisoned. I chuckled. The laughed. As Ramji''s new minions kept barfing on and inside of it. They would have been easy pickings by themselves. Mere snacks for an uncaring overlord. Together though.... Well. Death by a thousand cuts was still very much a thing down here in the Dungeon. We all huddled together. Waiting for it to end. When it finally did, I felt a surge of power entering me. Larger and more pronounced than ever before. We made our way over to the epicenter. The spot where both sides had so thoroughly exterminated the other. "Damn. That''s a lot of monster cores." Ramji observed. "Yeah." Drew agreed. Her face glittering with greed. "It has to be, what, four or five grand? And those are just the cores... I see diamonds, gold ores, some rubies.... We hit the jackpot." "And all it cost me was an arm." Marco muttered. "You didn''t lose and arm." Drew chided him. Until she turned her head to see him and realized that those line running through his limb weren''t mere bloodstains. "Right. Never mind. Let''s get you to the hospital." We turned around and fled. Running as if we hadn''t just fought for our lives. I had only been able to retrieve one of my spears and I used it time and time again whenever other monsters saw an easy meal in us. The tip finding their eyes with a lot more, grace, than before. In fact, all of my movements felt more centered. More controlled. As if I''d been fresh off a nap instead of tired from a recent battle. Even more curiously, I kept feeling that transfer of energy from whatever I killed. A slight tingle that travelled up my arm and through my veins until it reached my heart. Once the tingles found the organ, I would savor a far more potent beating. The very sounds echoing throughout my bones. ''This is so weird.'' I thought. Its a good kind of weird, but still... I looked at my Analyzer and gulped as I saw the new numbers.
Name: Cecil Fowler
Core: None
Level: 0
Vitality: 4.8
Endurance: 5.7
Potency: 3.6
Precision: 3.5
Fortitude: 5.5
Skills: None
"The fuck!?" "What!? What is it!?" "My Analyzer''s broken! All the numbers jumped up by a whole point." "Like, a whole number?" "Yes!" "Do you feel stronger?" Ramji interposed. I stuttered. Not really knowing how to respond. "Yes?" I finally managed. "I... I don''t know what''s going on." "I do." Drew smiled. "Someone''s getting his core." Chapter 14: Forming a Core. The office was far too spacious for its purpose. Being almost twice the size of any one of my old classrooms. The walls were richly decorated with a plethora of stuffed heads belonging to a wide range of creatures. There were furry ones and scaly ones on display, their mouths hanging open in abject terror. Mirroring the last expression they donned while they still drew breath. It would have been in poor taste, if they were common animals. However, them having belonged to monsters that laired on the deeper floors gave off an entirely different feel. The empty, glassy eyes made it so that the very walls screamed out a message. A warning or a threat. The weapon racks placed at the back added to this ambiance. Their mere presence attesting for the status of whomever sat behind the desk. Some of them had been carved out of the milky-white stone that covered the lakebed on the fourth floor, making them far heavier and more durable than even the best industrial alloys out there in the wider non-magical world. Others were obviously made up of sharpened fangs or bones. Their still-sharp serrated edges betraying the fact that they''d come from a horror powerful enough to give their current wielder a run for his money. ''Now there''s a terrifying thought. Here''s hoping none of those manage to make their way to the surface anytime soon.'' The mere notion brought out chills that crept up and down my spine. Recent recollections of the Giant Jellyfish already deeply ingrained in my psyche. My own weapons had been made of steel or titanium and the thing had laughed them off until Marco enlarged them. These ones though... The supernatural weight would''ve packed a punch all by itself; without the aid of any skills. It would''ve been like getting hit with a battleship''s guns or something equally devastating. ''I wonder if I could lift any of them?'' Probably not. It was funny, in an ironic sort of way. I''d known other kids who were disciplined for shouting or cursing or, at worst, bullying and stealing. If someone had told me I''d find myself in the same predicament two months ago I would have laughed in their face. If they''d specified why I''d be finding myself in an office... heh. I probably would have thought they had a few screws loose. ''Why did I tag along anyway? I mean, being constantly nagged at by my family wasn''t that unbearable... Actually, no. It was. But I could have done something else. I could have jogged some more. I could have gone tree-climbing with Mark and Tracy. Sure, Elsie would have been there. As insufferably smug and condescending as always, but it would have been safe...'' My eyes wandered away from the back of the office and over to its owner. Coach Russell looked, extremely pleased with himself. His big bushy beard barely containing the mirth on his face. Indeed, he looked like someone who''d been informed of the birth of a grandchild or that his cancer had disappeared overnight. Which was very suspicious, given that he had caught the lot of us red handed as we were leaving the Dungeon. Minors entering without an escort was frowned upon, though there was some leeway with teens in general. That said, any such niceties went straight out the window the second you went below the second floor by yourself. That was usually seen as just a tiny bit too reckless. Even by the rather loose standards of the town. The locals still did it of course. Marco, Ramji, and Drew seemed to think the Dungeon was a second home, in spite, or maybe because, of all the horrors nesting within it. They merely took care to avoid getting caught. Not only had coach Russell seen us leaving without a supervisor, he''d also discerned that we''d delved far deeper than was acceptable, given Marco''s wounds. The barely-visible tendril had injected quite the cocktail of neurotoxins and digestive acids into him during their kerfuffle, so that a massive line of red blisters had blossomed on the surface of his skin. It looked like death. Smelt like it too. In fact, there was absolutely no doubt in my mind that he would''ve died if we hadn''t gotten him topside as fast as we did. A fact our dear coach no doubt knew all too well. "Look, coach Russell... I''m sorry." Drew began. Putting on her best recently-chastised impression. "All we wanted was to fish for a few hours. We even brought out fishing rods and bait. We weren''t going to fight any of the monsters on the way and we definitely weren''t going in there so we could fight the boss." "Yeah!" Ramji agreed. "We didn''t even know the boss had re-spawned! We''re not stupid." Coach Russell raised an inquisitive eyebrow. The others squirmed alongside me, but otherwise stuck to our story. For my part, I kept quiet. Whatever punishment he decided was appropriate would mean little after we escaped with our lives. Besides, I was already being worked to the bone as it was. What was he going to do? Kill me? I sighed and hung my head low. Waiting for the hammer to drop. When he spoke, his voice was even. Devoid of any of the anger I''d expected. "What you did back there was very impressive." He began suddenly. My eyes shot wide open. Even as my jaw hit the floor. "You don''t think it was stupid for us to fight it?" I blurted out. Unable to believe what I was hearing. "Oh, no. It absolutely was. You lot are all morons. But you''re fourteen and pent up here without theaters or arcades or skating rinks or anything else that might take the edge off. Fighting monsters is actually among the more preferable outcomes in these situations. Trust me. I''ve seen some nasty.... accidents." He chuckled. Theatrically wiping non-existent sweat from his brow while whistling. "I''ve been young too. Homer... well, he was always a bit too uptight, even at your age, but he''s done his fair share of stupidities. Being moronic is within expectations. What isn''t within expectations is being stupid to that degree and coming back alive. So, kudos to all of you." "Hey. Thanks coach. You know? I don''t care what other people say about ya. You''re all-right." "Whoa there. Don''t get ahead of yourself Drew. You didn''t let me finish." His grin went from jovial to diabolical so fast that I barely had time to suck in a breath, before he had me in a headlock. "What I was going to say, was that you rowdy hooligans had way too much energy to spare. Which is clearly my fault. I''ve obviously been going way too easy on you all if you want to spend even more time in the Dungeon. I mean, really. I give you one day of rest. The only one in a month, and what do you do? Go deeper than I would''ve taken you! I don''t know whether to be proud or pissed off!" "Proud." Ramji wheezed. Using what little oxygen he had left to do so. "Yeah. What he said." Drew added. Her already pale face losing much of its remaining color. Coach Russell pursed his lips. In the exact same manner Eva did when she was losing an argument. "No. I don''t think that sounds right. I think I''ll be a little bit of both. Just to be safe." I tried to plead for mercy, only for the words to die in my throat. Strangled chortles came out instead. Weak, pathetic hisses that could not fully contain the desperation I felt. "But. But. Big stinky but. I''ll forgive you. This one time. Because we have something important to celebrate!" He let go. My lungs bringing in fresh air as fast as was humanly possible. "We have to throw a party for Cecil''s budding core! Oh. My. Goodness! It''s so exciting! You''re already on the home stretch Cecil! Almost there! So close you can almost taste the magic! This is a key moment in your development! Your last chance to push past your limits! It is critical that we come together at this time, because you''ll experience a final rush of experience where stats come far more easily than before!" This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. He placed one overly muscled hand on my right shoulder. Turning me around so that I was facing him once more. "And what better way to celebrate than by going back into the Dungeon!" "You want us to go back?" I managed after half a minute. "I thought you didn''t want us going in there for a while." He made a rude noise. "Of course I want you guys going into the Dungeon silly! Like I said, this is the last hurrah! Cecil needs, and I really do mean, needs, to work himself ragged now. His stats will be shooting up much faster than usual since he''s approaching level one. Especially if he''s getting the core we think he''s getting. It''s just that I want you going with me. So that I can make sure that all your pretty little limbs are going to stay attached when you go out! Now, you went down to the fourth floor, is that right?" "Yes." Ramji and Drew confirmed. "Fantastic! If you were able to beat a boss like the Jellyfish, then you should have no trouble going deeper before the day is done." I gulped. "Where, exactly, do you want to take us?" That manic grin never left his face. "The sixth floor. To fight the Wailing Tree." ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Our descent was much faster than our previous ascent. Coach Russell took us in his arms. Hugging us as if we were sacks of potatoes. Screaming, kicking, pleading, sacks of potatoes. "Hey man! Let us down! This is inhumane!" Drew screeched as the wind buffeted her face. "Yeah! It''s all Drew''s fault anyway! Let me go!" Ramji agreed. "You traitor!" "I''m the traitor!? I wanted to go do something safe! Like moose tipping!" All their protests were in vain however. The maniac took us lower and lower. Deep into the cavernous bowels of the earth. Past the stone forest of the first floor and the sun-kissed dunes of the second. Past hordes of Rippers and swarms of scorpions. Past the decimated landscape we''d left on the fourth floor and past the icy ridges of the fifth. I...wasn''t paying too much attention. All I could think about was the exact wording coach Russell had used. ''If he''s getting the core we think he''s getting.'' It could mean nothing. All of our Analyzers were connected to a main computer, so all of our stats were available to the adults 24/7. Its completely possible they had a list of possible cores for particular stat ranges and that they, whomever they were, figured I would get a certain staged core. Maybe a fourth or fifth stage one. Yet, it could also mean something else. That he and the others already knew the exact core I''d be getting. ''But that wouldn''t make any sense. They kept telling me that it was dependent on my efforts. That I needed to work myself to the bone so that I didn''t waste the opportunity. Was that all a lie? Did they know from the beginning? If they did, why go through all of this?'' I was still trying to make sense of the puzzle when we arrived at the poisoned swamp. The air down here was utterly saturated with the stench of death. Each and every intake of oxygen bringing an unhealthy dose of miasma along for the ride. So thick you could have cut it with a knife and so malignant that asphyxiation became downright tempting by comparison. It was, as if a thousand battles had been fought here. Between the crooked mangroves and above the sucking mud. With all those festering corpses being dumped into the deepest sections of the marsh. Where the sludge was greedy for human flesh and a single step could see you losing your leg forever as it and the rest of you was dragged down to depth unknown. The mosquitoes that buzzed around those twisted trees were almost as big as cats. Their mouths connected to lacerating needles which secreted a potent hemotoxin. Ensuring that any minor scratch exposed a never-ending tide of fresh blood to the many parasites and leeches crawling through the effluvia. Meanwhile, the few spots of high-ground were universally claimed by black spotted roaches the size of cars. With heads half the size of their bodies and six different antennae that crackled ominously with barely suppressed arcs of electricity. They would spread their lighting around their bodies as an aura. Frying any swarm foolish enough to try their luck on their turf. That is, when they weren''t loosing bolts of brilliantly concentrated fulmination at unlucky targets from their elevated vantage points. Then there were the trolls and the venomous gargoyles and the psychic newts and the gravity-bending earthworms that hid within clumps of bacteria-ridden mud while launching said mud at you faster than you could blink. Yeah. Yeah. This wasn''t a nice place. At least the fourth floor had had a ceiling made up of bioluminescent coral and towering crystalline structures that reflected light in hypnotizing patterns. At least it was clean enough that you wouldn''t get sepsis from keeping your eyes open for two seconds. Case in point, Drew and Ramji were crying. Those two had stared down a boss monster the second Marco was in any real danger and fought without rest in order to get him to safety. And now they were inconsolable. "Coach, listen. I''m so..." He threw me. That fucking bastard actually threw me. I was so surprised that it took me a couple of seconds to process the fact that I had, indeed, been thrown. When my brain started working again, it registered the muck underneath me and the way it refused to let go of my armor. Furthermore, I also noticed the hundreds upon hundreds of little crawling things slipping between the openings for my arms and legs. Quickly covering ground and making contact with my skin.... The sound that came out of my mouth was half a song and half a scream. A melody that sprang forth from the soul. Carrying the purest panic. And vengeance. That too. There would be a reckoning. I tried to stand up, but my arms simply slipped deeper into the blackened mud. I tried to kick, but the soil merely swallowed my legs faster. It was like quicksand. Wet, pulpy, disgusting quicksand. Like a carnivorous plant refusing to let go of its prey. I felt that surge again. A bristle that came from my spine and stomach and heart all at the same time. A tingle that raised goosebumps while feeling all to natural. The feeling revealed a muscle I had never known was there. I flexed it. Hard. As hard as I possibly could. The act made me tired. Exhausting me at an inconceivable rate. But it also made me strong. Very strong. So much so that my mind went completely and utterly blank. Allowing some beast to take its place. A thing that lusted for blood and violence. Impulses and desires sending chills down the entirety of my being. My feet finally made some headway, the repeated kicks causing faint shockwaves throughout the refuse. I was standing on two feet before I knew it. So relieved that I barely noticed the slugs and the leeches and the myriad other things.... As they fell down. Dead. Drained. The beast purred in the barest hint of satisfaction. The sensation lasting barely more than a second, before a new hunger made itself known. Mosquitoes flocked to me then, maneuvering around my arms as I tried to swat them. My killing blows turning into mere glancing touches. Yet, glancing touches was all I needed. They too fell. Dragged down into the mire and gone forever. I breathed in. Inhaling a lungful of tainted air with each routine motion. Strangely enough, the act, made me feel better. Not worse. I felt less tired. Less overwhelmed. As if invisible weights had been lifted from my shoulders. More mosquitoes came and more mosquitoes died. Their mortal shells losing a vital part of themselves mid-flight. Struck down by the loss of that all-too-important energy. While they got weaker, I got stronger. Consuming more and more and more until I felt the excess might escaping through my pores. I squeezed the muscle again and managed to keep the tide trapped. Looking around for another foe. Another obstacle to overcome. I searched for my spear on instinct, my hands grasping the sash that usually tied them together to my torso and finding nothing. Small, barely-present thoughts surfaced through my reddening, blurry vision. Congealing with my sense of smell and hearing. It was a howl of rage and frustration that stripped away all fear and doubt. ''I swear... if that insane sadist caused me to lose my spear, I''m gonna rip his head clean off his shoulders!'' That would have to wait however. The roaches were attacking. Throwing arcs of lighting my way. Bright flashes striking the mud and my body in concert prior to the resonating boom of falling thunder. It...should have hurt more than it actually did. Instead, all I felt was a rapidly fading burning sensation that soon became a distant itch. I looked around for something to throw and settled on a fallen log that was half-submerged in swamp water. The force of the throw surprised even me as it not only impacted with a resonating explosion of concussive force, but even went so far as to stay in motion. Carrying the roaches until they and the remains of the wood shattered and burst upon meeting a solid pillar of stone. I chuckled and looked for more prey. Finding a feral hunger in place of the fear that had so recently ruled me. Thoom. I felt my heart beating and felt other hearts beating with it in unison. Thoom. The echo bounced off the high ceiling and travelled back down along the walls. Thoom. All the remaining beasts looked my way. Knowing I was the source of the disturbance. Thoom. They saw me. The new me. The real me. The beast of bone. Thoom. They grew fearful. The beast smiled. I smiled. Pushing more power to my legs. Then, the ground beneath me exploded as I lunged towards the tree at the center of the swamp. I... hadn''t put any thought into the attack. It had simply, felt right. The tree came alive while I flew towards it. Branches moving like serpents a they intercepted me. They dragged me down into the filth. Or...they tried to. I grabbed them as well and crawled up them and towards the center of the monster. Towards its overflowing vitality. I felt it panic. I felt it trying to swat me off it like I was one of the parasites on the ground. I drank deep of its energy. Doing so until I felt parts of it and parts of the parasites and the mosquitoes resonating within me. My own skin grew harder. Rougher. Like tree bark. All while my fingertips changed into envenomed needles. Dripping vile death with every touch and injecting the fluids into the branch I was crawling on. The tree changed tactics then. Ripping its own roots off the ground while an open maw appeared on its trunk. Jagged fangs made of splinters rushing towards me. I grinned. Braced myself, and kept drinking its might. Keeping it up until a boulder smashed into the center of it at hypersonic speeds. The force of the throw disintegrated the massive stone as well as the monster. Vibrant vitality turning to dead toothpicks in a fraction of a second. I was stunned. Bewildered. Incensed. "I had it!" I yelled in defiance. "It was mine!" Fangs erupted from my mouth as the claws rent the air asunder. More rage. More frustration. More red in my vision. I looked around for the culprit. For coach Russell''s overly muscled form. But I didn''t find it. Not in time. When I did, it was his arm wrapped around my neck. Squeezing. "Good job Cecil. You exceeded my already high expectations. Rest now. Your core will be finished when you wake up." I tried to respond, but the light was fading. Too quickly for me to react. Chapter 15: Life. Opening my eyes was hard. Getting up from the bed was harder. I was sluggish and disoriented. The pastel walls spinning in place for several seconds while my eyes adjusted. My muscles felt.... Good? Huh. Yeah. They didn''t feel sore for some reason. I even went ahead and touched them to make sure. Also, holy cow. They were big. Like, they''d grown steadily over the past month, but now they were humongous. Even going so far as to approach the same lofty heights as Marco or the two coaches. I moved my legs to the side of the bed and found that... yes. I was also taller. Quite a bit taller in fact. I made my way over to a nearby mirror and took a long look at the reflection. ''It would seem that I''m also more handsome. Like, wow. Just wow.'' Now, I didn''t think I was particularly vain or anything. Sure, aunt Cheryl called me handsome, but she was my aunt. She was obviously biased. I would have said that I was about average before coming here. Slightly above average once the muscles started showing. This... this face and this body were both on a whole other level. I looked like an eighties action star. Or maybe it would be more correct to say that I looked like I''d recently eaten an eighties action star. My eyes went to my Analyzer. My heart beating furiously within the confines of my chest.
Name: Cecil Fowler
Core: [Life] (7th Stage) / Gains skills from: [Adaptation] / [Constitution] / [Healing] / [Hunger] / [Effort] / [Animal] / [Plant]
Level: 1
Vitality: 6.9
Endurance: 6.2
Potency: 4.5
Precision: 4.2
Fortitude: 6.1
Skills: [Drain] / [Perseverance] / [Heal] / [Transform] / [Spawn]
Holy cow. That.... That was a lot of high numbers. How? Coach Homer had said that the first level didn''t result in extra stats, while coach Russell only said you could train up stats faster right before a level. How could it have increased this much in so little time? Belatedly, my eyes went over to the eight lesser cores that made up my own. Taking special note of [Constitution] and [Effort]. ''Those two... both coaches have them. They make a combination. The same one Marco said increased your stat gains.'' That would explain why Potency and Precision were lagging behind too. My core didn''t get skills from the [Strength] or [Dexterity] cores like the coaches'' did. And that''s not all. There''s also the skills. Things like [Drain] and [Transform].'' While I didn''t know their exact purpose, they''d be nothing short of impressive if their names were anything to go by. A brilliant smile crept onto my face. ''I did it! Ha! I busted my ass for a whole month! Tore every muscle in my body ten times over and hunted like a crazed maniac! All for this! Oh man. It was worth it! It was so worth it!'' Heck, even the healing skill alone looked more than valuable enough to justify all I''d gone through. ''I wonder what its limits are? I mean, I did receive healing before, but that guy couldn''t have been this strong. There was just no way that...'' I stopped. Looking back to the screen on my wrist and then thinking about all the extremely suspicious things coach Russell had said. About my talent. About why my family was invited. About the core they thought I was going to get. ''They knew. They knew from the beginning.'' "Not quite." Said a faint voice. I whirled, bringing my fists up and ready to give whomever was there a piece of my mind. I only stopped when I realized how old and frail this visitor was. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. His head was bald and spotted, save for a few errant puffs of white hair growing out the sides. His frame was skinny and lanky. His limbs resembling dried twigs that were seconds away from snapping under the weight of a stiff breeze. Indeed, it looked as if the only thing tethering this man to the earth was the weight of his suit and shoes. Otherwise, the wind might have carried him off like a balloon. His face was narrow and gaunt. His nose was long and straight so that it resembled a beak. His pale green eyes were so sunken-in that it gave him an almost bird-like countenance. Indeed, the man in front of me resembled nothing less than an elegant, pale crow. The suit itself was a curiosity. Covered as it was in patterns of checkered red squares. It made him look like a runaway clown, or like some girl''s favourite great-grandfather. I stared at him for a few more seconds. Until recognition flashed in my eyes. "You''re Carlyle Robertson." "That I am." He squawked. "Good to see you up and about Cecil. I knew you were tough, of course. But Russell has always been a rambunctious lad. He does tend to overuse his own strength every now and again." I breathed in and out. Rhythmically moving air through my system as I considered what to say. I had so many questions for this man. So many mysteries to dispel that it was hard to pick any specific one. I gulped. Finally settling on the one that had been bothering me the most. "How?" "How?" he repeated jovially. "How what? How do I keep the suit so fresh in summertime? Easy. Its of very fine quality and I tend to move veeeeery slowly so that I don''t sweat as much. When I bother to move at all that is. Hehe." "That wasn''t what I was asking." He quirked an eyebrow. "Well? Out with it. I won''t live forever you know." I sucked in a breath to keep myself focused. Ignoring his snarky attempts at misdirection. "How did you travel back in time?" He sighed. "Oh, that''s what you want to ask me? Not how magic works or how to make the best of your skills? You don''t care about how I built the Analyzers or how I got so filthy rich so quickly?" "Those all seem like interesting topics. Perhaps we''ll have time for them. After you tell me about time-travelling." "Then I guess we''ll never get to those discussions." He said, as if resigned to silence. "Pity. You used to make for such stimulating conversation." I narrowed my eyes despite myself. "You won''t tell me how you did it?" "Of course not you silly boy! Why would I divulge this secret to you of all people ? Especially after keeping my mouth shut for the past 5 decades? Do you suppose you''re that special? Hmn?" I felt a sudden blush overtaking me. Embarrassment being quickly replaced by anger. I wanted to snap back, but regained control at the last second. ''If he doesn''t want to tell me, its because he''s afraid of what I could do with the information. Me or someone else. There has to be a reason he''s so cagey.'' "Okay. If you won''t answer how, then why?" He made a rude noise. "Because the world had ended you silly Billy! Honestly! Did Russell hit you upside the head one too many times? I don''t recall you being this dim when last we spoke." "We''ve never spoken." I said, flatly. "Not in this timeline." He corrected. There it was. Confirmation. "So you did know. You knew I''d get the Life core. That''s why you brought us here. Its important to you for some reason." He laughed in my face. Bending over so much that, for a moment, I feared the motion might snap his thin frame in two. "Of course its important to me Cecil! Its a seventh stage core! Do you have any idea how many there are on the planet? Five. Five in the whole wide world. And only one of those five existed in the original timeline. My very own. I''ve literally quintupled the number of overpowered bloodlines humanity can rely on. And that''s not even counting all the people I''ve recruited and raised over the years." He pointed a bony finger in my direction. "Your original core was supposed to be [Chimera]. A fourth stage core that combined skills from [Adaptation], [Constitution], [Hunger] and [Animal]. Impressive, to say the least. Especially when you take the original timeline''s circumstances into account." I nodded in understanding. "No one to train me up. No one to teach me how magic worked and how to get a good core." I paused. Suddenly struck by a series of realizations. "Coach Russell always said hard work made up most of a core''s formation. He said that talent played a role, but a secondary one. No amount of it would suffice if I didn''t keep pushing myself. He said that, struggle. Pain. Fighting monsters. Was absolutely necessary. What... what was my life like? Back then, I mean." He shrugged. "Particularly terrible. Even by the standards at the time." My fists clenched. "My uncle and aunt...." "Trampled to death during a food riot. As far as I could tell from the investigations I conducted. I don''t know what happened to your cousin, but she wasn''t part of your life when you got your core." I blinked. Several times in quick succession. Unable to process the bombshell he''d just dropped. "Food riot? Wha... how? Did we move to Venezuela or something?" "Oh no. The food riots have been going on for a couple of weeks now in Venezuela. They won''t hit the US, Mexico and Canada for another six months." My blinking got faster. He only chuckled at my reaction. "Were you not paying attention to the news before you came here? The world''s in a really rough spot. Even if the governments haven''t figured out the reason yet. A carton of eggs was seven dollars when you and your folks moved in. The same carton of eggs is currently going for fourteen dollars. Canadian. Less feed to go around for the animals you see. Ranchers are going out of business left right and center and poultry farmers are barely hanging on. Its a shitshow, to say the least." My mouth opened, but no words came out. "The soil is changing, Cecil. Slowly enough, but it is changing. Its getting a whole lot harder to grow mundane things. Even in top-of-the-line super-expensive greenhouses. The plants will adapt to the higher magic levels ... eventually. But everyone out there is going to have to tighten their belts until then. And most people are not taking too kindly to that reality." My eyes widened. "That was your other reason! My core! One of the first-stage cores that it can access is called [Plant] and one of my skills is called [Spawn]. You want me to feed the people of the town!" "No you dummy! We have the dungeon for that. All the greens we farm up here on the surface are already used to magic because they''ve had to grow around the entrance. Taking in all the power that''s constantly pouring out. As for meat, all the cattle we keep are more than sufficient. Not that we eat much of it anyway. A good deal of us prefer monster meat and dungeon-grown veggies to the regular stuff." He placed a bony hand on my shoulder. "Still, you''re on the right track. I figured you''d be able to surpass your previous core by getting some expert training in. My own skills allowed me to make a good enough guesstimate as to what you''d be making too, so I had every incentive to support your education. That was the first reason. To add you and by extension, your magic, to our ranks." His face grew uncharacteristically serious after that. "The second reason, was to keep you from becoming a..." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "An inconvenience. Later down the line." I gulped. "I don''t think I like where this is going." "Neither do I Cecil. But you deserve to know. The old you, was a menace." "Harsh." "No, Cecil. I am not being harsh. In fact, I''m being rather generous by sparing you the details. Suffice to say that I am eternally thankful that you have a stable home this time around. I''ve been keeping an eye on you using my skills and that future will not come to be. Not as long as you have loved ones to keep you anchored to your humanity." That was, ominous. I allowed my mind to wander. Thinking back to what I''d felt down on the sixth floor. The pain. The hunger. The blinding, overpowering rage. Yeah. It was bad, but surely it couldn''t have been that bad. Right? Mr. Robertson must have noticed my turmoil. He sighed and ushered me over to a sitting position on the bed. Sitting right beside me. "Don''t fret too much about it kid. Those were dark days for everybody. The important thing to note is that you''re doing better now. That the future I lived through won''t come to pass. I need you to realize that it was possible and that you have the power to make it impossible. Its all up to you and how you decide to deal with your anger from now on. Try to make friends. More friends, I mean. Go fishing more often. It''ll be fine if you have an escort. Keep your head on your shoulders and try to stay focused on productive endeavors." He smiled warmly. "And speaking of productive endeavors. Let''s talk about the third reason I brought you and your family here." "Okay?" I said offhandedly. My mind swimming with all this new information. With the implications of what he''d just divulged. "What would you say if I told you that feeding the rest of the country wasn''t just possible, but downright simple? What if I told you we could give cores to tens of thousands without compromising our own security and risking interference from the world''s governments?" "I would ask why you haven''t done it already." "Why, that''s because I was missing the last piece of the puzzle my dear lad." His jovial grin returned. Dispelling the previous somber mood. "Tell me, Cecil. How would you like to be a Dungeon Master?" Chapter 16: Artificial Threat. Mr. Robertson was ecstatic. Cheering me on as I allowed magic to flow through my skill. All the surrounding vegetation grew and transformed as the ethereal waves washed over them. Moss growing thicker and more pronounced while seeds sprouted and anchored themselves to the cement. Cracking right through it in search of soft earth beneath. Roots grew gnarled and twisted. Thick tendrils enveloping the fragmented concrete and breaking down the stones into smaller pebbles before assimilating them into the developing stems. I... felt the call. Their call. Tiny voices becoming more pronounced. Their will to live mirroring my own. The skills were, still odd to use. Feeling like muscles that hadn''t grown in until recently. Strong emotions flared up whenever I flexed them. A blistering anger rising to the surface. Making me more aggressive towards threats, real or imagined. Coach Russell, for instance, seemed scarier whenever I was channeling this new power. His posture coming across as dangerous and provocative, when it was anything but. I knew it had to be my mind playing tricks on me. If someone like him wanted to hurt me, there would be precious little I could do about it. Maybe, I don''t know. Bleed on his shirt in a vicious manner? Nah. He could just grab a rock and flick it in my general direction. It had been enough to vaporize the boss monster on the sixth floor. It would certainly be enough to kill me ten times over. It was a hopeless prospect. Something I knew and accepted. Yet, the rage refused to be dispelled. Regardless of how bleak the odds appeared to be. While the flow of magic appeared to be uniform in nature, further focus revealed distinct differences [Spawn] felt like separating part of myself. Like drawing a portion of the ephemeral glowing warmth within me and sending it out. The section-off energy became plant matter, or was otherwise absorbed by those organisms that already existed. ''That''s only because I''m limiting myself though. I think. No. I know, I could make other things. Like the mosquitoes I drained on the sixth or like the jellyfish boss. Come to think of it; did I apply my skill to the spear? It kind of felt like it. Even though I didn''t have the full skill at that time. Weird. I guess it was more of a gradual change instead of a sudden one like in games.'' Meanwhile, [Transform] served to further enhance my creations. Endowing them with more mass and shapes that did not come naturally to plants. That, and a lesser manner of sentience, as well as instructions on how to behave. Alongside with a healthy does of blind hatred towards anything that wasn''t me. Sort of. It was hard to tell, but I could have sworn I heard them cursing me once or twice. ''Mr. Robertson is right. I need to get a handle on the magic or it''ll get me killed one of these days. Coach Russell will hold back if I lunge at him, but a monster at his level won''t have such courtesies.'' I recalled the jellyfish and how close the fight had been. It would have definitely killed us if it wasn''t for the Spitters. The same was probably true of the tree I faced on the sixth floor. I had felt invincible while tearing chunks off it, but the reality was much different in hindsight. I had been running on fumes by then. Having spent nearly all the stamina I''d had on draining the other monsters around the swamp. It would have worn me down and torn me limb from limb in a few minutes if coach Russell hadn''t intervened. I grimaced. Forcing my attention away from the recent memories and into the new plants. The vegetation had spread to all the corners of the chamber and had begun to gouge chunks of masonry off the walls. Squeezing into gaps they should have had no business infiltrating or otherwise making their own alcoves from which to lounge. I felt my vision start to blur and wiped my forehead with the back of my hand. Only then did I notice how much sweat had gathered. How much the process had taken out of me in a few minutes. "I... I think I need to lay down." I told them. "That''s fine." Mr. Robertson assured me. "Casper should be coming down with the first group soon, so we can leave it at that." "But I haven''t made any monsters?" Him and coach Russell guffawed. As if I''d just told them that polar bears made for great pets. "You''ve laid the groundwork, Cecil. These little guys are big and healthy and mean as rattlesnakes. I can feel their killing intent on my skin. Now we proceed with the second step." Coach Russell pulled on the sack he''d been carrying. Loosening a few strings so that its contents fell on the floor. The things that fell were shiny and small. Reflecting the light of our lanterns like diamonds under a summer sun. I gaped at them. Counting at least a hundred. Watching with morbid fascination as the plants I''d recently sown bent over backwards to get at the pile. Some grew purple thorns that dripped liquid death onto the ground. Some became a paler shade of green so that they resembled dried-up weeds rather than the very healthy and very deadly variants they actually were. Some others grew bigger. And bigger. And bigger. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Reaching the ceiling and puncturing right through it as if it were made of carboard, only to retreat back into themselves once I hastily ordered them to do so. I pushed more magic into them. Commanding them to entangle around themselves and assume the shapes of apes and bears, until such patterns began to repeat themselves up and down the hall we were occupying. "Won''t that make them too strong for normal people?" "Depends. Normal people with melee weapons? Yes. Normal people armed to the teeth with revolvers, shotguns and flamethrowers? No. This is Alaska mind you. Most civilians I''ve had the pleasure of meeting carry enough ammo to put down a wandering T-Rex. They''ll be fine." "Won''t that ruin the plan? I thought they were supposed to get cores of their own." "Oh, they will. They''ll run out of ammo eventually and go for the aforementioned hammers and axes. But they''ll have been exposed to plenty of magic by that point. These cheap cores won''t make the monsters too strong, but they will triple the amount of juices they leak. Anyone who puts up even a modicum of effort is getting at least a tenth of a point. And since we''ll be making hundreds of these, those gains will start to add up real quick. Carlyle here will use his skills to temper the monster''s natural bloodlust so that they don''t actually kill anyone. Its not a sustainable training method, and it certainly won''t be as effective as what we do back in Dunstonberry. Yet it''ll give these guys the edge they need to make it through the apocalypse when it does come down. Plus, they''ll have a neat magic-resistant garden to grow potatoes or whatever else they might want." "A garden, in the sewers?" I pointed out. He shrugged. "The vegetation will spread topside. They''ll figure it out." He looked at the piles once more and nodded. "That should be enough to get a quarter of the town to the point where they''ll get stage one cores. At the very least." I followed his gaze. Taking in the last remaining monster cores about to be consumed by my creations. "Aren''t those cores, worth a lot?" "Not really." Mr. Robertson said. "These monster cores are all from the second or third floors. So, they''re quite useless to us." "But, you pay us? I''ve made something like, five hundred dollars over the past month..." They both looked at me as if I were mentally impaired. Coach Russell even went so far as to stifle a giggle. "It''s adorable that you think that''s a lot of money Cecil. We at the company still pay you kids when you turn them in as a form of positive re-enforcement. We give you money because more money will make you train harder so you can delve deeper later in life and get the really valuable stuff when you''re stronger. We really can''t use them for anything other than fuel though. Even then, a single core from the fourth or fifth floor gives off ten times the energy and does it twice as fast." Mr. Robertson meandered over and helped me to my feet. Picking me up as easily as a child would a ragdoll in spite of his thin frame and advanced age. "That reminds me. I don''t think we''ve discussed the matter of your compensation yet. How silly of me to forget. Tell me, what do you think about mansions? Would you mind if yours were to be constructed, below ground level?" "I already live in a mansion that''s mostly below ground level." I informed him. "Pish posh!" He said, waving the statement away. "That''s just another standard habitation bunker. We built tens of thousands of them when we first founded the town. Back before we had a solid plan for how to develop the place. Earth and metal magic practically lets us vomit the stuff. Why, it doesn''t even have a jacuzzi! Or a home theatre for that matter." Coach Russell wrapped an arm around my shoulder. "Trust me, you''ll be wanting a jacuzzi. I use mine all the time. All. The. Time. Its like being kissed by hundreds of angels." "How do you people afford this stuff? I thought the world was ending?" "It is! That''s exactly why we can afford it. The price of daily necessities keeps going up but the prices for luxury goods keeps going down, since, you know, no one is buying giant TVs when they can barely make rent and buy food at the same time. Heck, I''ve got four different Joystations at home. The latest ones. Two for my kids, one for my room and one for my hot tub. Its great." Mr. Robertson spoke up from my right. "Also, we''re still making money hand over fist. Remember those power plants we opened up all over Europe and East Asia last year? The ones we said were nuclear? Monster cores. All of them. We can afford to sell energy at dirt-cheap prices while also making a tidy profit. We literally ran our competition all over the Americas into the ground last decade." "But there''s tons of companies out there providing energy." They both chortled. Coach Russel especially so. "Well duh. We register them under different families and pretend they''re locally owned. Come on Cecil, you know Casper and his family all have the [Space] core. I used to spend half my time teleporting between Chile and Brazil before I took over your training. Here, watch this...." He pulled an obviously fake mustache from his pocket. His entire face and complexion changed as soon as he put it on, so that he resembled an overweight man in his fifties. "Hola compadre! Yo soy el senor Juanito! Owner of Juanito y Juanito electricity! Yo soy muy rico y me gustan mucho las brazilenas!" I gaped at him. At both of them. I mean, I knew this whole thing was a conspiracy, but face-changing? "I... is that true?" Coach Russell looked abashed. "Yeah, I''ve had a couple of kids in Brazil. Me and my first wife split up because of it. There''s just something different about the girls there, you know?" "No! I don''t know. You ass. I was talking about the fact that you lot secretly own the world!" Mr. Robertson snorted. "I wish kid. This whole, saving-the-human race business would be infinitely easier if we did. There are way, way scarier monopolies and interest groups out there. People whose private business would make your skin crawl. We''re literally planting monsters beneath a sleepy mountain town and we''re practically saints compared to them. I could write fifteen books on the many, many assassination attempts I''ve survived this year alone. Do you know what cyanide tastes like?" "No." I deadpanned. "Well I''ve tasted so much of the stuff that I''ve developed a bit of a craving. Those Frey bastards don''t know when to give up. And they think I''m only operating in North America. I can''t even imagine what they''d try if they knew about all our branching operations. Probably send a cruise missile or something." Part of me was certain he was messing with me. Unfortunately, another part of me was starting to believe that was well within the realm of possibility. After all, I''d been a normal teenager just last month and here I was. Growing monsters in a sewer system. I was about to ask for more details on this, Frey family, when the air around us shimmered. A burst of displaced air washed over me then. An empty section of the room having been occupied by a short man wearing a thick brown trench coat paired with black sunglasses and an even thicker balaclava. "The cops are on their way. There aren''t many of them, but all the bystanders are strapped. I mean, jeez. They''ve got rocket launchers. What are a bunch of townies doing with rocket launchers?" "Blowing up stuff for fun?" Coach Russell offered. "Of course you''d think that. Shit. I''m surrounded by psychopaths." "Hey! I''m not a psychopath!" It took every ounce of self control in my entire being to keep quiet after that comment. "Excellent." Mr. Robertson exclaimed. Apparently not too focused on the ensuing argument. "This is it lads. One little Dungeon break to start it all. Three whole years ahead of schedule." The smile that had blossomed on his face was manic. Bathed in a deep dark longing. "Let''s get this show on the road boys." He turned around to face us. "Let''s save the world." Chapter 17: Guns and Hoses. My feelings on the topic of minions was, a little complicated. On the one hand, they were my own creations. Not in the way that baby would have been, but rather, in the same manner as a massive Mego set. I''d put a piece of myself into each and every one of them. Granting them the self-awareness to know who I was and what they were in relation to me. Whatever complicated emotions they currently had were ones I''d placed upon them at the moment of their birth. Their rage was my rage. Their hunger, my hunger. Which was why I was so apprehensive about the plan. I kind of, didn''t want them to die. On the other hand... These were people''s lives we were talking about. I obviously didn''t want anything bad to happen to them. In fact, I genuinely thought this plan was smart. It would alert the people of rural towns like this one and the wider governments of the world. Bringing them in the know and letting humanity grow stronger without giving away the colossal resources that the regular Dungeons represented. The idea being that Mr. Robertson could have his cake and eat it too. He could make sure all the nations of the globe got a fairly decent head-start while making sure the Dungeons would still be exploited to their fullest potential. Without shady agents trading influence in exchange for access. Which would be bad. Unlike his own shady dealings to keep this access all to himself. Which was good. I chortled at the thought. Wondering just how bad things had gotten the first time around. ''Here''s hoping I don''t have to find out.'' The hulking root-apes and root-bears were climbing up the sewer grates now. Rushing upwards to meet the gathered parties. The idea was simple. The creatures I had made would be served up like a buffet for the benefit of other people, in hopes that at least some of them could grow cores and survive the fall of civilization later down the line. Neat and tidy. So much so that I genuinely couldn''t think of a way to screw it up. Until the bullets started flying that is. It was at that precarious moment that I gained a new appreciation for my magic skills. More specifically, the effect that the [Fortitude] stat had on them. In summary, my new pets were, tough. Very tough. A fact that became apparent as I sensed one of the bigger bears making up the frontline charging straight at a cop car. Eating shotgun blasts like they were Tic-Tacks. Blazing pellets struck solid roots and sheared away splinters of wood. Dealing damage to the exterior of the monster, but failing to impede its assault in any meaningful way. In fact, I was starting to think they were making it stronger. I felt trails of warmth that I''d used to animate it coming to life once more. Spreading from the monster cores it consumed to the spots that had been peppered. New sections of wood grew from the places where damage had been inflicted. Natural browns and greens being replaced by new layers of bark. Layers that looked oddly, metallic. Almost as if they''d broken down and absorbed the foreign objects within seconds of their arrival. The nearby fire truck was letting loose at the same time. Hosing down the unnatural forms from behind the cover of three squad cars bunched together. The bear staggered once the water hit. Stunned by the pressurized water shearing away parts of what would have been the snout and skull of a normal bear. Then it began digging its paws into the concrete, punching down so hard it made small craters below it. And then it used those to steady itself, before moving at a slightly slower pace. ''Holy cow! It barely felt it!'' In contrast, the ones doing the shooting felt a lot of things once the hulking mass broke through. A great, many things. Such as broken arms, broken legs, broken collarbones, broken hips, collapsed lungs, ruptured livers, ruptured spleens, heart attacks, concussions, severe hemorrhaging and many, many other colorful afflictions that would have made a team of doctors faint with dismay. "I thought you were going to keep them in line!" I yelled from behind a corner. "This is them staying in line." Mr. Robertson answered. I whirled on him. Flashing an expression that would have curdled milk. I was about to say some very questionable things about the honor of his lady mother when Casper smacked him upside the head. "How the fuck is this supposed to help anyone? Are we getting in on the mortuary business now? Should I start chopping wood for caskets?" "No!" Mr. Robertson hissed. Then he paused, donning a contemplative expression. "Although, it is a market we haven''t explored yet. One that''s about to see a lot of business over the next couple of years. It''s not a terrible idea." "Carlyle!" You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. "I know, I know. Trying to ease the tension. Geez." He drew in a dep breath using his mighty beak of a nose. "Teleport in between them and take all the wounded away. Send them over here so Cecil can do some first-aid. Send each one to the nearest hospital as soon as they''re stable. I stuttered for a few seconds, unable to find the right words. "Mr. Robertson, I only got my core today. I don''t know how to heal people." "Which is exactly why you''d better get started." Coach Russell interjected. "There''s no science to it. I mean, there is, but you don''t have to worry about any of it. Its instinctual. Push the magic in and the magic makes the wounds close. You could not mess it up if you tried." Casper began teleporting people away before I could rebuff him and I was soon faced with an older officer whose entire right side had been slightly, mashed. My hands found him, more out of fear that he might die than from confidence that I could save him. Yet save him I did. Him and half a dozen others. Mending bones and exposed muscles to the point where my new patients looked like they were suffering from hangovers instead of blood loss. "See? What did I tell you? Easy as pie. Casper, do your thing." "Yeah. Yeah. I''m on it." The wounded lot vanished with another shimmer. My attention snapped back to Mr. Robertson then. Leaving me in awe of the sheer weight of the magic he wielded. I felt his magic swirling about. A warmth spreading out from within him, instead of me. When I did it, the power went around and round within my chest, floating over my newly formed core and through my blood-vessels, so that I could feel the essence pumping through my very veins; before leaving through my fingertips. When he did it, the energy went from his core to his spine and up through his bones until it reached the skull and the brain it held. It pooled there. Congealing for half-a-heartbeat, before it shot out from behind his eyes. Purple arrows amidst the fog covering us from view. Those not-quite real projectiles struck their intended targets and I felt a twinge of feedback from our connections. The hatred, the bloodlust, the will to fight and conquer and survive that all my monsters had, was dimmed. Ever so slightly at first, until the pressure grew and grew and grew. Squeezing all notions of self-preservation out of them. The bears and the apes still moved forwards, but they no longer charged. They no longer cared enough to do so. The officers and the civilians behind them lit them up with gunfire. Shots ringing through the warm summer night as leaden rounds found their way past animated chunks of wood and leaf and vine. Yet it remained more of a challenge than I would''ve imagined otherwise. Each of my units required hundreds of consecutive shots before they would even begin to suffer from the accumulating damage. The flying projectiles sprinkling the asphalt on the streets and the freshly-mowed grass of the sidewalks with fragments of bark and root. The collecting debris sinking whenever it landed on soft soil. The bears still trudged forward on two or three legs. The apes'' top and bottom halves kept crawling in spite of being severed from each other. They were all done for, yet currently busying themselves by giving the very concept of death an enthusiastic middle finger. Staying upright out of spite. Not all of the had eyes or mouths. Yet those that did stared daggers at the men and women who would presume to slay them. Maintaining a vitality of spirit that left me gasping for breath. It was, inspiring. In a brutal sort of way. A madness was beginning to take hold. Some primordial instinct that called for me to leap into action so that I could lead the countercharge. On the side of the monsters. On the side of my monsters. I shook my head quickly. Trying to dispel the sudden insanity. Mr. Robertson placed a bony, withered hand on my shoulder then. "Its fine. Its a magical connection. That''s all. They''re moving by your will. By the life you gave them. Other summoning skills make their casters feel the same way. It''ll pass." He paused before adding: "You''re doing great Cecil. This will save lives." I gathered up the recovering pool of warmth inside of me and told myself that was true. On closer inspection, I did have to give credit to the townsfolk. Hardly any of them fled from the scene of the ensuing clash and those that did tended to come back behind the wheels of pickup trucks, mini-vans, actual trucks and in one case, a school-bus. Flashes of light barreled into the verdant creatures. Bumpers deforming as the literal tons of steel they were attached to assaulted the beleaguered remains of my first wave. Those did the trick where the bullets had failed. Soon thereafter, a crowd of cheering locals was amassing around the carcasses. Watching with morbid fascination as officers poked and prodded the remains. "Send the second wave now." Coach Russell urged. "Their morale won''t get any higher than this and we''ve gathered a full half of the residents by now. They might scatter in a panic if any of them realize they have no cell reception." "What about landlines?" I asked. "Come on Cecil. Who do you think we are? We cut the phone lines the second we got here." "Of course." I replied with no small amount of resignation. Still, I called on my forces and bade them topside. Ushering them towards a firing squad that was fresh off a resounding victory. This second wave made it through several grates at once. Surrounding the victors from all directions. Mr. Robertson wasted no time in stunning this lot. Making sure there wouldn''t be any other accidents while under his watch. "There''s more of them!" Someone yelled. "Shit! Fire! Fire! Don''t let them close!" "Keep shooting! The alpha bear''s dead! We can take these ones!" "They''re coming up from the sewers!" "Fall back! The whole drainage system must be infected! Fall back!" "Get in the trucks boys! Ram them again!" While those were all good suggestions, none of them would bear fruit. These new monsters could resist bullets just as well as the old ones. Also, them making a strategic retreat wouldn''t mean much, since we''d simply let Casper teleport in re-enforcements. Lastly, those trucks would most definitely not be moving anytime soo.... Wait. "What. Is. That?" Casper asked. Pronouncing every word with the weight of a mallet. "Excellent question." Coach Russell acknowledged with a nod. "Cecil, would you care to enlighten us?" I, had no words. The scattered remains of the first wave, those that had found soil at least, were now rising once more. Growing ever upwards on thick black roots that spread out like spiderwebs along the ground. Their return saw them combining their previous features as they regenerated. Morphing and distorting their outline until they resembled a ball of yarn. Only, there was no yarn. In its place was wood mixed with metal and concrete. Also, it was no ball, as a trail of centipede-like legs stabbed at the ground beneath it. A grotesque mashup of pulped bark, stone, steel, soil and leaves that somehow managed to hold up the rest of its prodigious bulk. They flexed their might as one, and lifted. Bringing the mass up on its right side, followed closely by the left. Freeing itself from the confines of the earth. Seven ape-like faces peered out from its chest area, grinning down on the officers. Atop them all was the distinct profile of a one-eyed bear. Its jaw slackened and a serpentine tongue emerging from within its broken maw to taste the air. All of the monster cores that the separate entities had absorbed now became one. A single, beating, heart. Colored in my image. "Its proud." I said, recognizing the emotion. The echo of my own magic. "Its proud and vain and angry. It wants human blood." Chapter 18: Rampage. The many-armed, many-legged thing charged. Barreling towards the line of cars, officers, firefighters and armed civilians. The people were at least smart and fit enough to realize the danger. Throwing their bodies to one side or the other. Just barely escaping from the monstrosity as it threw cars and pick-ups high into the air with a laughable ease. The ape-like faces hooted and howled as it passed. Rough bark snapping at empty air as each head struggle to get closer to prey so that it could tear them to pieces. The ursine head at the helm remained stoic throughout. Calmly assessing the wrecks around it with regal indifference. Acting as if total victory was the expected result. "Damn Cecil. I know I said to put your all into it, but this is a little much. They''re supposed to be able to beat it with machetes and power tools. Who in their right mind is going to try their luck against that?" I whirled to face coach Russell. Incredulous at his reaction. "How is any of this my fault?" I pulled on my shirt to show the reddish-yellow diamond nestled above my heart. "I''ve had this for three hours. You''ve had decades to know the ins and outs of your magic. How is it that I''m being called out for not knowing this would happen?" "Come on Cecil. Don''t be like that. We both know its mostly instinctual." "Says you!" I bit back, perhaps a bit too loudly. Some of the people who''d been on the periphery of the conflict had bailed as the second wave was coming over and they started to point fingers at us while running for cover. Mr. Robertson exerted a small rush of magic through his eyes in response. Causing the few witnesses to faint. "Gentlemen. I know we have masks, but we should still strive to remain as anonymous as possible until the big reveal. First impressions are very important. We want to be seen as saviors. Not terrorists." "Speaking of which." Casper interrupted. "I think its about time to step in." "Not yet. They still have ammo." "So? That thing is huge! I''d do a double take before fighting it and I''m level 5." "Don''t bring your shortcomings into this Casper." "My shortcomings!?" "Yes, your shortcomings. Your grandfather and I were the best of friends. He''d be rolling in his grave if he knew you lacked ambition to this degree. Now hush. The people here need to have no other options but melee combat. Otherwise they''ll never be willing to to close the gaps against monsters. Meaning they''ll get a tenth of a point at best by the time we''re done here." He shook his head. His eyes stone cold behind his mask. "That will not do. I need fighters. The world, needs fighters. There''s still a chance of this town getting people with second-stage cores. We can''t stop now." "All they''ll get is corpses if we don''t stop this nonsense. Its gotten out of hand." "Nothing''s gotten out of hand. Look, I''m influencing the monster." "It''s flipping cars over and throwing them!" "But not at people." Mr. Robertson interjected. Wagging a finger. "This is fine. Our dear officers are doing fine. Have faith." The hulking monstrosity tackled the side of the fire truck. Flipping it over on its side before lifting it over its head. It roared triumphantly then. Using all of its heads to declare its dominance. Then, It threw the truck. Sending it flying through the air and into the side of a warehouse. Toppling the whole structure and sending displaced air filled with debris in all directions. The rubble struck several bystanders who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Cries rang out. Some precariously more muffled than others. Me and Casper turned to stare at him. "Okay, okay." He sighed. "I guess this is about as much as we could hope for, given that its our first time. Russell. Plan B" Coach Russell''s whole body tensed as he drew in a breath. His muscles bulging as if they were balloons. Ones that were precariously close to bursting. Then, there was a sudden shock that travelled through my bones, followed by the sound of a canon being fired and the feeling of rushing air whizzing past. My ears were ringing and they remained ringing for a few seconds after the initial impact. It had all happened so suddenly that my eyes had watered and closed on reflex. When I managed to open them again, the artificially-created boss'' upper torso was gone, as were its adjoining whip-like appendages. In its place was a macabre burning mess of splintered wood. Leaking embers down unto the upturned grass. ''How the...? Coach Russell doesn''t have any fire powers. His core is [Conditioning]. Same as his son.'' A quick glance revealed that the creatures who were supposed to be part of the second wave had all staggered to a stop. Unwilling or unable to move after Mr. Robertson rattled them with another wave of power. That was when I saw the officers and the firefighters and the members of the impromptu militia. All of them either collapsed on the ground or holding their heads with both hands. My newly enhanced vision managed to make out more details than I otherwise would have noticed. Like the way their heads were bobbing up and down or the way blood trickled from their ears and between their fingers. ''That bastard broke the sound barrier. Without a running start too. The fires...'' The fires must have been caused by the speed. He hit the thing so fast the air in front of him didn''t have enough time to move out of the way. It combusted when he moved. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. My first thought was: ''Fucking Monster.'' My second thought was: ''I want to do that too.'' There was hunger inside of me now that hadn''t been there before. Stirring at the sight of such a spectacle of violence. My core, was better than his. At a later stage. I might be able to reach those heights someday. ''Someday soon.'' The man in question walked back a few seconds later. Jumping atop the rapidly disintegrating carcass. "Come on Cecil." Mr. Robertson urged me. "Lets get closer to the action so you can start healing folks." "I thought healing magic could hinder core formation?" "Only if you rely on it too much. These guys are not going to be seeing another healer for a long time. Besides, its just a few ruptured eardrums. Maybe some cuts and bruises, with the odd underlying condition here and there. Nothing major." I didn''t even bother to dignify that with a response. Instead opting to move closer to the people my monsters had mauled. Laying hands on them and letting the magic flow through my core. Their wounds felt like, patches of shadow spread across their bodies. Like blotchy tattoos that retreated as they got better. I could also, feel what they felt. Sort of. I could tell that they were still reeling from the ringing in their ears when I touched them and I could tell when those symptoms retreated. Knowing when the bones had kitted themselves together and when muscles had regenerated. Officers had looked at me warily at first. No doubt put off by the mask and the suspiciously good fortune of our arrival at that particular time. Any apprehension they might have felt dissipated after the healing however. I was receiving looks filled with awe. With incredulity. With hope. "Good people of.... this town!" Coach Russell began roaring from atop the heap that my creation had become. His words letting everyone know that he hadn''t even bothered to learn the municipality''s name before coming here tonight. "I am here to help! To tell you how to fight these things! I''ve dealt with their kind before and I know what kills them! How to put them down for good!" Magic was swirling through the air as he spoke. Mr. Robertson''s telltale influence spreading throughout the gathered masses. The rolling mists crashed against onlookers and officers alike. Visibly invigorating them so that they ignored their own exhaustion and confusion and fear. ''And their common sense too; from the way some of these guys are reacting.'' "These beasts came from underground! From the center of the earth! They''ve come to eat us all alive!" He waved his arms above his head for the added effect. "There is no escaping them! There is no one who can help us! The phone lines were cut and the cell towers demolished! They took every precaution to sabotage your town!" It took all the self-control from all of my stats to keep from gagging at the sheer shamelessness on display. I marshalled that control again to refocus on the people around me. Healing their wounds and whatever infections they''d been carrying up to this point. ''Its for the good of the people. The good of the world. You know how important cores are. Don''t think too much about it.'' "Its up to us to defend our families! Up to us to keep them safe! We have to take up arms and head down into the darkness from whence they came! We have to excise the evil that spawns them! Only then will our town be safe!" He faced them. His expression exploding with confidence. "See what I''ve done here!? This strength came from destroying the evil! From wreaking havoc on all of them! You can do it too! Follow me and save your town! Follow me and save your families!" Some people were cheering already. Despite how ridiculous he sounded and how suspicious he looked. Maybe it was the magic Mr. Robertson was generously sprinkling. Or maybe they were cheering precisely because he seemed so suspicious. After all, who would want to anger the six-foot six murder-machine that all but disintegrated the horror you were facing down? "Bullets don''t work and we don''t have enough trucks to keep ramming them! We have to fight with axes and hammers! Cut them down to size and crush their roots!" The crow roared in agreement. A few firefighters springing up like whack-a-moles as I was healing their broken legs. "Kill them!" "Crush them!" "Tear them to pieces!" "That''s right!" Coach Russell bellowed. The magic rising higher and higher. "Think of your families now! Of your wives and husbands and kids! Who will protect them of you don''t fight!?" There was an angry roar moving through the people them. Like a rising tide swallowing a pier. Leaving behind a cacophonous collection of chants. "Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!" I felt a tug from my right and coughed as a shimmering bubble enveloped me. The next time I opened my eyes, Casper was there. His face on his mask. Holding on to it as if he were dying from shame. Mr. Robertson was the opposite. He looked like he was on the verge of weeping. His wrinkled old face taught with a manic smile as his eyes grew moist behind his own mask. Tear actually started falling then. Wet trails flowing downwards and staining the fabric. He did not pry his eyes away from the mob when they descended on the second wave with batons and fire axes. Nor did he tear his gaze away when they kept rolling down the street and gathering around the manholes. "Are they going to be okay?" I asked without thinking. Feeling slightly stupid once the words had left my mouth. "Of course they''ll be okay." Mr. Robertson said out of hand. "Russell won''t let any of them come to harm. Not in any meaningful way. The things you left down there will only hasten their rise to power." His body stiffened for a moment, before relaxing. "It is a foolish thing to rush growth in this manner Cecil. These monsters are basically sweating liquid magic. So that being around them will have a profound effect on normal people. They''ll get stats faster than even you could imagine. Yet, it comes at a cost. Levelling using an excess of dead monster cores without proper training and exercise can leave you, destitute. Magically speaking. You hit a wall once you reach the range of 2 in every stat and gaining anything past that becomes a pipe dream. We''re, essentially ensuring they get basic cores or slightly better, by burning down their foundations. No one in this group will get an advanced core. Even if they might have had a chance to do so." I nodded. "How much stronger will they have to be to unlock basic cores?" He shrugged. "Its not an exact science, but continued observation shows that they should have a stat average of anywhere between 1.4 and 1.8. Though we have seen second stage cores pop up in people with averages as low as 1.5 before." "That, seems low." Him and Casper sighed at once. "Its all we can do with a limited amount of time. People on the outside will eventually wonder why they can''t contact their relatives or why all the roads are blocked off by landslides. I expect there will be a concerted rescue effort within a week. Maybe less. We''ll have to make the most of that time." "That''s not what I meant. I...." My eyes rose to meet theirs. "I meant that even stage two cores are low. You''re ruining these people''s chances at power. Their children''s chances at power. It isn''t enough." I paused for breath. Choking a bit on the smoke drifting over from some of the wrecked cars. "I thought we were helping people here. I thought, that we could get them to, I don''t know. A decent level?" Mr. Robertson turned his face to meet my eyes. His features, which had been so stiff under the mask, softened. "You''re quite right. Cecil. It isn''t enough. But its all we can do for now." He waved over at the mob. "In the world I lived in, none of these people made it. Not one. They had the distinct misfortune of living next to the spot where a giant monster appeared during the break. And that, my dear Cecil, was that." His eyes went back to the crowd. "These people will be stunted, yes. However. They will get to live, where the versions I knew died. It was a hard choice to make, but I still made it." That faint smile of his widened. If only by a hair''s breath. "Besides. This is only the beginning. A proof of concept, if you will. Whose to say what you and I could accomplish in a month or two? Whose to say what we could change in a year? Who knows? Perhaps we could even make an artificial Dungeon to rival any natural example." He chuckled dryly. "But enough about that. Casper here will get you back to your family, now that your role is more or less done. We''ll call upon you if we think we can get away with forming another artificial dungeon around the edges of town. Until then, take a break. Its been a long day for you and you deserve to be rewarded for all your efforts. I''ll arrange for payment in the next week or so. Take care of yourself until then." I was about to rebuke his offer, but Casper was much too fast. The shimmering surrounded me, cutting off the wrecks and the howls of the mob as the trickled down into the lair of my beasts. Chapter 19: A New Me. Uncle Uter had been doing push-ups when I made my way over to the house. His brow suffused with sweat as his body went up and down and back up again. The continuous training had made his arms thicker while reducing the circumference of his waist. Yet, for all those improvements, he still looked, frail. At least, he did so from my new perspective. He had been a giant of a man for practically my whole life and this place had made him small. ''No.'' I thought. ''Its the opposite. This place has made me huge and its affecting how I see him.'' I groaned as I started to realize just how true that statement was. The old me had been slightly smaller than him in stature, though I was still growing. The new me towered over him as a boss monster towered over its prey. The old me had been skinny and somewhat frail. The new me could have made heavyweight champions faint with an errant look of disapproval. ''It doesn''t matter.'' I told myself. ''Uncle Uter won''t mind. He''s always been there for me. He''ll get used to it in no time.'' "Hey uncle." I called out as I made my way over to him. He froze in response. Stopping his exercises to stand as quickly as he could manage. His eyes went over my form and grew suspicious. "Uh, you were doing pretty good for a moment there. New record?" "Who are you and what do you want?" He asked, taking me by surprise. "What?" "I asked you what you wanted. Sir. What can I do for you today?" "Uncle, its me." I stammered. Not quite sure what else to say. "First off. I''m not your uncle." He said dryly. "And secondly, I have no idea who you are. A relative of Russell''s, if I had to guess. But no one I''ve had the..." He paused to grimace. "The pleasure of meeting." "Uncle, I... stop it. This isn''t funny." "Oh, I quite agree. I don''t think whatever prank you''re trying to pull is funny in the slightest. Here I am. Waiting for my nephew to return home at this ungodly hour and thinking about how long I''m going to ground him for after leaving us sick with worry and suddenly you come along. Looking like you just finished beating a whole team of wrestlers to death with their own championship belts and calling me uncle. No, sir. I don''t think this is funny at all. And you better turn your meaty backside right around this instant before I decide to do something about it." I... couldn''t rightly describe the sound I made. Something close to a squawk, if I had to guess. "Uncle Uter! Its me! Cecil!" He snorted. "I saw Cecil yesterday and I''m fairly certain he wasn''t two-timing steroids and human growth hormone then. Get out." ''This can''t be real. This isn''t happening.'' I thought, as my emotions spiraled. Then a knot started forming in my guts. As the reality of the situation set in. ''How the hell am I supposed to prove that its me!? I don''t look anything like I used to?'' "M-my eyes! Look at my eyes!" "Yeah, you''ve got similar eyes. So? Tons of people have the same eye color." I balked. "W-wait! There''s something else! My Analyzer! It has my name and all my stats! I can show you!" He narrowed his eyes. Looking at the device on my wrist. Then he began fiddling with his own, until a beeping sound came off of mine. His eyebrows rose. "Wait a second. Did you install a family tracking feature without telling me first." "All the Analyzers come with the feature pre-installed. All I had to do was prove that I''m your guardian in order to program mine so that it can track yours. Also. What the actual fuck Cecil!" The swearing took me by surprise. So much so that I babbled incoherently for a few seconds after he''d started yelling. "Uncle... language." "Language my hot wet ass! What the fuck happened to you!? Did Russell do this? Has he been giving you drugs?" He started gnashing his teeth together. Clenching his fists so tightly that his knuckles went white. The opposite was happening to his face at the same time. His cheeks glowing red with pent up fury, resembling nothing so much as a forge billowing with flames. "I swear! I swear that when I find that son of a bitch I''ll wrap my hands around his throat and...!" ''Get yourself fucking killed.'' I thought with rising panic. "Stop it! Nobody did anything to me and nobody made me take any drugs! I''m clean uncle! I swear!" Well, that wasn''t strictly true. Coach Russell had thrown me ass-first into a literal hell-swamp and I hadn''t felt clean since. But something told me that bringing up those facts now was a bad idea. Instead, I walked closer to him. Grabbing him by his arms and steadying him. "I look like this because of my core." "Your core?" He asked, finally calming down some as he looked me up and down. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. "You finally got one?" "I did. I mean, I do. Here." I lifted my new shirt so that he could see. There, on my chest. Right above my heart, was a diamond. Dyed in vibrant shades of yellow and red. The main gem was about the size of my fist, with tendrils snaking their way all over my torso. "That''s a. Wow. That really is much bigger than I thought it would be." He frowned. "Does it hurt?" "No. Not at all. I fact, I don''t think I''ve ever felt better! I feel, so alive and full of energy. Even after everything I''ve been through today. I should be at the end of my rope. I should be ready to fall flat on my face and sleep for days on end. But I don''t feel that at all. I feel like I could do this for another twenty-four hours and still not get tired. Which is stupid and makes me sound stupid. But that''s how much energy I feel like I have. Its so, so different from anything I''ve ever felt." "I see." He said. Looking me up and down with a more, quizzical expression. "What did you mean, after everything you''ve been through today?" I froze. Realizing just how big of a blunder I had stumbled onto. Now, I could have told him the truth. That his constant complaining about me going into the dungeon had gotten on my nerves. That I was so fed up with him and all his nagging that I decided fishing down in the dungeon was preferable to being in the house. That this decision had almost resulted in serious bodily harm when we fought a boss and that it definitely resulted in serious psychological harm when coach Russell got a hold of us. That this had then led to me aiding and abetting his boss when he decided to become a menace to the public in the hopes that it would give people magic before the world ended. That I had literally made a whole host of actual, honest-to-goodness monstrosities that shrugged off shotgun blasts as if they were mean comments. That these same monsters had almost ripped an entire police department apart while me and my partners in crime watched. Somehow, I got the feeling that this was not the way to go. "I... I was training very hard." "This was your day off." Uncle Uter replied. Coolly shutting down my lame excuse. I clamped up. "Cecil. What did you do?" "Nothing out of the ordinary!" I lied through my teeth. "I mean, yeah. I did go down into the dungeon and I did hang out with a few friends. But nothing strange happened or anything." His frown deepened. "Cecil." "Yes?" "I don''t like that you don''t trust me." He said somberly. "I know nothing I could do would ever make me one of the so called cool kids. That''s fine. I don''t want to be a cool kid to you. I want to be your family. Your dependable guardian. I want to be someone you can rely on. Someone you can seek out when the going gets tough. No matter how tough it is or how many things you have going on at the time. That is my duty. To you and to your father." He paused. His hands trembling as he held his sides. "I... I see you like this. All cagey. And I can''t help but feel like I''m failing you." "You''re not failing me uncle." I answered hastily. "You''re awesome. I know.... I know you only nag me because you''re worried about me. I don''t mind." The words stabbed at my heart as I said them. Guilt rising up to consume me. I was suddenly hit with the realization that he had probably been waiting here all day for me. Probably since the moment he realized I had left. "Look, enough about that. Yes, I pushed myself. Maybe a little too hard. But it was all worth it! Look! Look at my status!" I showed him my Analyzer more closely. Urging him forward so that he could see the screen.
Name: Cecil Fowler
Core: [Life] (7th Stage) / Gains skills from: [Adaptation] / [Constitution] / [Healing] / [Hunger] / [Effort] / [Animal] / [Plant]
Level: 1
Vitality: 7
Endurance: 6.3
Potency: 4.6
Precision: 4.3
Fortitude: 6.3
Skills: [Drain] / [Perseverance] / [Heal] / [Transform] / [Spawn]
His eyes remained impassive. "That''s... a lot of numbers." "Yes. A lot of numbers." I agreed. He went silent for a few more seconds. His face softening and hardening as he contemplated. "Cecil. I..." He stopped. Catching himself at the last moment. "Yes?" I prompted. "I''m proud of you." He finally managed. "These stats are all so much higher than mine. I can''t begin to imagine what you must have gone through to get them to this level." "It wasn''t that hard." I lied once more. "I just kept at it. You know. Never skipping leg day and all that." Uncle Uter nodded. "So, what happens now?" "What do you mean?" "I mean, what will you be doing now that you have what I assume is a very good core?" "Uh, I''ll keep training in the dungeon?" "Why?" It was, such a complicated question. I mean, no it wasn''t. It was fairly straightforward as far as questions went. The truth was that I needed to keep training because I needed to be stronger. And I needed to be stronger for several important reasons. First of all. Because Mr. Robertson had been kind enough to explain more details about the incoming apocalypse. Such as the food riots. As bad as uncle Uter believed things would get; they were about to become a whole lot worse. No one would be spared from monster attacks. No one would be safe from sudden invasions. No one could say with complete certainty that some kaiju wouldn''t waltz in and decide to make your city his new nest. Not even powerhouses like Mr. Robertson or coach Russell. It was why all the homes in this place had built-in bunkers that snaked deep into the earth. Why all the buildings placed above and below ground were built to such exacting standards. Being in this town of Preppers and next to a dungeon would help, but I wasn''t about to take any chances. I wanted, no, I needed to be strong enough to put down a boss monster or two by myself so that I could protect my family if it ever came to that. The second, reason was that, simply put, the world was depending on me. Because my skills would improve in strength and versatility when I got stronger and them getting stronger would mean I could make a lot more monsters a lot more quickly. Which would mean that I could create better, deeper artificial dungeons for people outside of our little commune to get powers in. Lastly, there was, a third reason. A more personal one. Shame. It was, growing inside of me now. Shame that I''d done that to the people of the Alaskan town. Shame that I couldn''t make them stronger. The feelings were conflicting, and painful in how they roiled within me. Not only had I terrorized their town at the behest of coach Russell and Mr. Robertson, but all the harm I did only gave them so much magic to work with. When the end finally came, they''d be twice or three times as strong as regular people, while I''d be leaps and bounds ahead of even the best of them. I knew that getting stronger was a hard process that required a lot of know-how, and I had still agreed to do the bare minimum. What''s more, I couldn''t decide on whether I wanted to do more or nothing at all. ''I don''t want to hurt people. I don''t want to lose myself in rage like the monsters I made. But I also don''t want to cripple the foundations of people I help. I don''t want them and all their children to be weak while I stay super strong. Its unfair. It''ll make life for all humans unfair for the rest of time. The people of this town will be able to bulldoze through hundreds of people from outside. And they''ll have the Dungeon all to themselves.'' I clenched my fists harder. I knew this was unacceptable. But I also knew that Mr. Robertson was doing all he could to help the people outside. ''Or is he? Would it be so bad if the governments find out about the Dungeons? I mean, we have a proven method of improving ourselves. We have proof that the monsters are coming. Also, Mr. Robertson is loaded. Someone like him has to have some kind of influence with politicians, right?'' It was a whole load of problems tangled up together. It was a complex game with many layers and no one would tell me the rules. I wanted to have everything. The wellbeing and improvement of people without the guilt of having to attack them. Without having to make monsters. But I didn''t know how to make that happen. I didn''t know what I could do about it. Except keep going so that we could do more good in the future. "Uncle, the truth is that...." "Yes?" He asked once more. I stiffened. Allowed some tension to leave me. Looked him in the eyes; and told him everything. Chapter 20: A Magical Morning. The bed felt, small. Inadequate, when faced with my new bulk. My feet were hanging a little ways off the mattress while my broadened back took up as much room as two normal-sized people would have. The blanket also felt wrong. My usual custom had been to wrap myself tightly with it, until I was as snug as a caterpillar in its cocoon. Yet the large, thick mantle had been made small in proportion to the rest of me. Leading to a rather peculiar predicament where I was tussling around the cushy softness of sheets and pillows without actually finding a sweet spot to relax in. ''Damn it. I should be dead tired after all that running around I did today. I literally fought against two boss monsters, unlocked magic, filled an entire town''s sewer system with mutated abominations and healed a bunch of people after the fact. This doesn''t make any sense.'' I had to lay there, in the end. Face up and arms clutching the blanket for about three or four hours. Before my body entered a slightly more relaxed state. One where time seemed to slip by more easily. Its passage bringing a queer and unnatural sense of calmness and relief. Even then, I was still aware of my surroundings. Still very much actively thinking about what I''d done. About what might have happened to that town if I hadn''t done what I did. About the very real possibility that all of them might have died without ever growing cores if I hadn''t agreed to Mr. Robertson''s proposal. ''But doing it this way means their kids will be weaker than mine. For generations upon generations. They won''t be able to use magic to the same degree as me or any children I might have. How will that shape their lives, a hundred years from now? What about two hundred years from now?'' My brain came up with multiple scenarios. None of which I liked. ''No. I shouldn''t think about it like that. I saved lives. I know I did. The people in that town will at least have a chance now. That''s something, at least. Ah shit. I don''t want to be thinking about this. Why can''t my brain go to sleep already? Is this a level 1 thing? Is sleep not going to be a thing anymore?'' I hoped not. But couldn''t completely rule out the possibility. Drew and Ramji had casually mentioned that they could stay awake for days at a time on multiple occasions. I had assumed they''d meant that they could do it. Not that it was somehow normal around here. Not being able to rest normally would suck, to say the least. ''But then again, when was anything normal around here?''
Morning came too soon for my liking. I still hadn''t caught a wink of sleep when the first rays of sunshine peeked through my bedroom window. I cursed, briefly considering moving to one of the bigger rooms below and dismissing the notion out of hand. ''Its just a little light. It never killed anyone.'' I got up. Oddly focused and alert for such an early hour. Then I went to my washroom and had a nice, hot shower. Indulging in the steaming, scalding water as it cleansed my spirit as well as my body. My new muscles groaning with joy as they felt the skin above them warming up. Yet, as hot as the water was, it didn''t burn me. Merely soaking into my skin so that it felt as if I was being tempered. As if I were a sword that needed to be cleansed of impurities. I''d showered the night before as well, but that had been a quick, utilitarian wash. This was a far more relaxed experience. One that I found more and more pleasant by the second. ''Maybe coach Russell wasn''t kidding when he mentioned his hot tub. This feels like heaven.'' I took a deep, calming breath as the steaming droplets crashed against me. My muscles losing more and more tension the longer I stayed in there. I found my fingers reaching towards the handle on reflex. Looking to turn up the heat just a little bit further. Then I cursed under my breath as I realized that was a hot as it would go. ''Maybe I should demand a sauna for my payment instead? Coach Russell did imply that no amount of luxury was off the table. It wouldn''t have to be a big one in any case. Just large enough for me.'' Definitely something to consider for later. After that, I dressed myself. Or, I tried to. Only now realizing that the only clothes that fit were the set that Mr. Robertson and coach Russell had given me when I woke up at the hospital after growing my core. And that those had been left in the laundry machine due to the particular musk they''d obtained from the sewers. ''And I don''t know how I feel about wearing those ever again. Aunt Cheryl might just decide to burn them if she comes across them. I don''t know that I could blame her either. It would be a mercy, considering what the fabrics had been exposed to.'' I''d been outgrowing my shirts already due to my training regiment and this was the final nail in the coffin. Trying to put one of them on felt like I was an adult trying on toddler clothes. They kept ripping in half or tearing open at the seams no matter how gently I tried to guide them. The mundane materials unable to contain my growing mass. To make matters worse, the same was true for my pants. And my underpants. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. I hadn''t noticed until now, but the boxers I''d put on last night were mutilated beyond recognition. Seams and strings giving way at several angles underneath. The stretchy waistband having been pushed far beyond its limits and the rest of the thing was barely hanging on thanks to a mixture of hopes and prayers. I cursed. Frantically trying to find a solution that didn''t involve indecent exposure charges. ''I could use the Analyzer to call someone. Uncle Uter could go into town and bring me back clothes that fit.'' I dismissed the notion as soon as it came up. True, it would be the most logical course of action, but Marco had warned me about the bracelet''s monitoring software more than once. Send a message and someone high up in the Robertson household would always be able to pull it up at a later date. It might have seemed silly to some, but I didn''t want anyone else knowing about my current predicament. ''Least of all Elsie.'' It was bad enough that she refused to leave me well enough alone. The last thing I needed was another reason for her to harass me. So, I did the next best thing. Going to the door and loudly knocking on it. That led to yet another problem for little old me. While the doors leading outside and all the doors in the bunker-style floors were made of solid steel and Dungeon materials, the doors in the normal upstairs sections of the house were made of wood. Thick and solid wood, with solid hinges. Enough to last for a long, long time. Unless someone of my level hit it without minding their strength. I hadn''t even put that much force into the knocks, but there it was anyway. A big hole, right at what most normal people would consider eye-level. ''Oh man. This sucks so much. I swear, Mr. Robertson better be ready to pay up that mansion he talked about. I''m gonna need a whole slew of custom-made furniture. And heavy-duty washing machines. And clothes. And workout equipment while I''m at it. If I''m going to be some shady tycoon''s henchman from now on, then I''ll at least be sure to receive adequate compensation.'' I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Lighter than uncle Uter''s. Not as light as Eva''s. "Cecil!? Cecil are you okay!? I heard a crash!" "I''m okay auntie. Just, had a little accident that''s all. Also I need you to get me..." "AAAAAAAAAGH!" I cringed and peeked through the recently-made aperture. The face aunt Cheryl made when she first laid eyes on me could have served as a horror movie poster. Her mouth frozen solid mid-shriek while her hands cradled the sided of her face. "Who the fuck are you!? What have you done with my nephew!?" "Language auntie! Eva might hear you. Its me. Look at my face. Didn''t uncle Uter tell you anything?" She blinked. Several times in quick succession. Her expressions resembling that of a startled cat that hadn''t yet decided whether to flee or to rake the offending party with its claws. Her mascara only adding to the surreal atmosphere. She swallowed a breath before regaining her composure. Her frame still shaking slightly as she addressed me once more. "He said you''d undergone a growth spurt yesterday. Because of the magic." Her right eye twitched with what might have been irritation. Or barely-suppressed rage. "I see that he and I need to have a long conversation about what qualifies as a growth spurt and about the values of proper communication." ''Sorry uncle.'' I thought to myself. Already imagining how that particular conversation was going to go. "Never mind that now. What happened to the door?" "I, opened a hole. By accident. I was trying to call you or uncle Uter over. I, uh. Need new clothes." "Yeah. I can imagine. What were you wearing yesterday?" "Some clothes from the hospital. I put them in the wash last night because they smelled. I, didn''t think of what would happen in the morning." "Clearly." She said. Rubbing her temple with a hand. "Well, you''re young and going though a lot. I guess forgetting about something like this is normal. I''ll bring you your breakfast today so just wait here until Uter comes back with new clothes." She gave me an assessing look. "I''m guessing your new size is something along the lines of 4XL or 5XL. We might have to get some 6XL ones too. In case you keep growing. As for the door ¡­ I don''t know. I''ll bring a cardboard box and tape it over the hole. That''ll have to do until we can get the door repaired or replaced. You might have to move down to the basement floors if we can''t get a contractor though." "That''s fine. Thank you auntie."
Breakfast was decent that day. Sunny-side eggs with toast and butter. I gobbled up a whole plate and was surprised to find myself hungry for more. Aunt Cheryl was nice enough to give me a healthy helping of seconds. And later and even more generous helping of thirds. After that, she said she''d need what was left for Eva''s breakfast. "You''ll have to make do until lunch. The fridge is almost empty and I can''t fix you up anything decent with what''s left right now. In fact, I might send you out for groceries as soon as you''re dressed. I''ll give you some spending money so you can eat on the way if you want." "Thanks aunt Cheryl." Her features smoothened out at that. Her face donning an expression that was filled with melancholy. "No problem honey. And, I''m sorry I can''t do more right now." I sighed. "No worries. I know its not something that happens every day." I went back to bed after that. Trying once more to nap. If only for a few minutes. No such luck. So, I went over to my PC and tried to boot up a game. Nothing that relied on reflexes of course. Those had been the first games to lose their appeal as my stats got higher. Instead, I booted up an RTS. Sending waves of self-replicating drones over to the fungal marines in Psychic Rampart 2. It was entertaining. For a while. Until the simulated battles started reminding me of my own monsters. The ones I''d grown and shaped down in the cold sewers. While I hadn''t been controlling them, there had been a connection between them and I. A rage we both shared. A hatred towards weakness. Both within and without. A certain indescribable... hunger. A pulse that seemed to come from the pit of my stomach and the back of my head at the same time. My stomach roiled right on cue and I found myself pressing the keys a little too quickly. With a little bit too much force. And just like that, I needed a new keyboard. Great. I leaned back on the chair. Groaning with frustration. Then I looked at my right hand. Contemplating last night''s events once more. ''Those people might have been able to get even stronger. If my monsters were stronger. If I had more control over them. I could, I don''t know. Form them up into more precise arrangements. Send them in with pre-programmed orders and carefully considered instructions. Like units in the game. Real Time Strategy.'' It would require a way to give them orders. A step further from the violent stunning effects Mr. Robertson could pull off. That power was purely a hypothetical, but it somehow didn''t feel out of reach. I poured magic into my right hand then. Feeling the warmth spread out from my core and over to the limb. I focused on growing claws and sure enough, my fingertips lengthened and calcified. Re-constructing themselves into natural weapons. I focused on turning it back after that and wasn''t disappointed as the changes undid themselves. Then I took it one step further. Growing a vine from the palm of my hand. The plant grew right from the middle. As if it had always been there, waiting for the right amount of moisture and sunshine. "Talk to me." I commanded. Confused signals returned to me. Vague impressions of undefined needs and wants. Like the cries of a babe in need of attention. "What do you need?" I asked it. More confusion. More nonsensical feedback. I was talking to it, of that there could be no doubt. The issue was that my new creation was far too basic and undeveloped. It couldn''t process what I was saying. Never mind a response. ''Its a start though.'' I thought to myself. A smug smile making its way across my face. ''Its the start of something great.'' Chapter 21: Out on the Town. I was still playing with my new magic when a knock came from the door. "Cecil? Are you awake? I''ve brought you some clothes." "Coming." I answered. Re-absorbing the carnivorous vine I''d grown from my arm before making my way towards uncle Uter. The thing hissed as it disappeared down my skin, though I didn''t experience any sort of discomfort as it went down. ''Just one more thing to get used to. No big deal.'' I opened the door with some trepidation. Making sure to poke an arm and only an arm out. Then I grabbed the offered bundles and got properly dressed. The new pants and boxers were comfortable, though the shirt was a little tight around the shoulders. Still, it would have to do for today. I stepped out of my room and looked down at my uncle. Noting the way his gaze had hardened since yesterday. His eyes seeming deeper and more focused than before. Those very eyes took in my figure now. Looking me up and down as if searching for some flaw in a statue. "You look good." He said at last. "Thank you." I answered. Relaxing after the compliment. "Too good." He went on. Donning a worried expression on his face. "Uh. Thank you?" I scratched my head a little before continuing. "Is that a bad thing?" "It very well could be." He grumbled. Massaging his temple before sighing. "I''m sorry. It''s just... I''ve been thinking about what''s been happening to us as a family and about the ways I could be doing better. One of those things I haven''t been doing is talking to you. Following up about regular things. They, hah..." He sighed again. "They tend to fall by the wayside when you''re surrounded by all this nonsense. I don''t think I''ve been there for you. To teach you about responsibilities s you grow older." He took another deep breath through the nose and released it through his mouth as he heaved an even bigger sigh. The action making the bags under his eyes stand out even more. Looking at him now, it was hard to say when he''d last slept. ''Or he ever slept at all.'' "Uncle, what are you talking about?" "You. Cecil. Your development into a functional adult. It just hit me that me and your father both had girlfriends when we were 15. And neither of us looked half as good as you." He said it in a voice that was very, matter of fact. As if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Not even close." He added later. After having another, longer look. For my part, I was flabbergasted. ''Where did this come from?'' I thought to myself. My guts twisting a little at the suddenness of it all. ''Is this a parent thing I don''t know about? I mean, aunt Cheryl is always calling me handsome, but this feels different from that. Wait, is he... worried I''m going to start dating?'' That didn''t seem like something uncle Uter would worry about though. I always imagined he''d give me a smile and a thumbs up if it ever came to it. ''Or maybe he''s worried about me dating someone in this town. Someone who was raised with magic from birth. Some weirdo who was going to start being a bad influence.'' I shook my head. Not daring to entertain those thoughts for even a second. Yes, there were a lot of pretty girls here, but most of the ones I''d met were bullies to some extent. Always snickering around me when I asked a perfectly normal question here and there. Elsie was the worst, as she somehow hadn''t gotten the memo to mind her own freaking business whenever I turned to confront her, but the others weren''t much better. Indeed, now that I thought on it, I couldn''t see myself getting involved with anyone here. There was simply too high of a wall between us, even with the few friends I had. Something like having a girlfriend hadn''t even crossed my mind. It would be like dating a tiger or a bear, in that they would be pretty to look at, while remaining vicious predators at their core. "I don''t think you need to worry about that uncle. I''ve got a lot on my plate right now. What with all this, saving the world business. I''m still processing what happened last night and I''ve got brand new magic powers to test out. I don''t know if I could handle a relationship right now. I wouldn''t know where to start. I''m not even sure I could tolerate most of the people I met here. Let alone date them." There was some relief in his eyes after that. "I''m glad. Even though it might feel lonely for you or even if you might not feel completely at home here, I''m still glad. The things some of my coworkers have said..." He let the words hang in the air. As if they had somehow choked him as they left his mouth. The bags under his eyes somehow managing to deepen even further as he stared into my own eyes. "Never mind that." He continued after a few moments. "I shouldn''t worry you with the details. But we do need to have a conversation about yourself now. About growing up and what it means to be responsible. I understand that it might be coming out of the blue, but I really cannot leave it for later." The talk that followed was supremely uncomfortable. So much so that I seriously thought I''d die of shame before it was over. Thankfully, it came to an end after 10 or so minutes and I managed to sprint down the stairs without making any further eye contact.
We rode in silence all the way to the store. Him being preoccupied with his own thoughts and me being too busy pretending that talk hadn''t happened. ''I mean, jeez. Like I really need to be carrying around... that. Who does he think I am? Coach Russell? Even if he didn''t mean anything by it, why bring it up now? After all the things I told him last night?'' Sure enough, uncle Uter seemed distracted as he drove. His eyes being locked on to the road and the empty streets in front of him while his mind wandered someplace else. Almost as if he were a chess player contemplating their array of possible moves. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. ''So why bring that up? Of all the things he could have said to me. Is he going through the motions? Is it something he feels adults should be saying? Or is he actually scared that I''m going to off and... and...'' I shook my head to dispel the thoughts and focused my gaze on the practice yard out in the distance. Targets arrayed neatly or slightly behind cover as other kids took up bows or throwing axes on the other side. ''Damn. I wish I was there with them. Though I''d settle for just about any other place right now.'' The indignation was still burning within me as I got off the car. Though it was soon replaced by other newfound realizations. "Uncle? Is it just me or does the place look, brighter?" "How do you mean?" He asked. "I mean that the street here is more, I don''t know how to describe it. Detailed? I feel like I''m noticing a lot more stuff than before. Like, the air has more smells and the grass and the trees planted along the street feel more alive. More colourful." He shrugged. "Must be a magic thing. Or maybe its because of that core of yours. I''ll ask around if you want." "Yeah. Thanks uncle." "Does this mean you''re done sulking?" He asked. In a very deadpan tone. "I''m not sulking." I bit back. "I have every reason to be upset. How could you just bring that up out the blue like that?" He shrugged again and shut the car door behind him. "It''s a conversation we had to have at some point. Part of being your guardian. The only reason we didn''t have it sooner was because you always struck us as a quieter, calmer sort of kid. Since you always kept a steady group of friends around and because you tended to like staying indoors. Clearly, that''s about to change." "I''m not going to start acting like coach Russell just because I got taller uncle Uter." "Sweet heavens, I sure hope not. We''ve got enough on our plate right now without having to worry about that sort of thing. Still, you never know where your..." He paused. Searching for the right words. "Feelings. Yes. That''s right. You never know where your feelings will take you. You might not have much intertest in that topic right now, but who knows what''ll happen in a year? I mean, heck. Who knows what will happen in a month?" He shook his head. "You''re a growing boy. Cecil. Almost a grown man. These, uh, precautions, are part of being a responsible adult. You''ll just have to get used to it. Trust me. It''s better to think things through now, rather than later. Especially around these parts where half the people walking by are most likely weirdoes. I know a few guys from high-school that are pretty close to being grandparents. None of them had a very good time of it back then and they''re certainly not having a good time right now. Better safe than sorry, I always say." I rolled my eyes and pushed open the door. Swinging it with some amount of force as I vented my frustrations. That, was a mistake. The slab of solid steel bounced against the other wall like a ping-pong ball. Coming right back with all the speed and ferocity of a pissed-off gorilla to smash my teeth in. It hit me square in the face. Sending me reeling backwards unto the pavement. "Cecil!? Cecil! Are you okay!?" Uncle Uter was beside me in a heartbeat. Patting me down and trying to get a good look at the damage. "Hold on! I''ll call an ambulance." "No! It''s fine! I''m fine." I tried to say. Instead, what ended up coming out of my mouth was: "Mwoooo! Gish fann! Gim fan." It wasn''t a lie either. It hadn''t really hurt that much in the first place and I could already feel my wounds closing by themselves as magic surged from my core. Spreading out towards my skin and coating the outer layers of it with resplendent warmth. I did end up losing a couple of front teeth, but those were growing back too. So, no harm was done. Besides, I was embarrassed enough by what had just happened. The last thing I needed was someone like Elsie finding out and coming over to harass me some more. "Hold on. I''m calling the ambulance right now." "Nuuuuuu!!!" "Now hold on there Uter. Let the boy speak for himself." We both turned to see Sava walking out of her store. Arms crossed as she leaned against the doorframe. Her face was mostly impassive as she looked down on me and my uncle, though the corners of her mouth were curled slightly upwards and her eyes carried a mischievous glint. "Take a few seconds kid. Breathe. Take a big gulp of air and let yourself cool off for a few seconds. Then decide what you want to do." Uncle Uter looked incensed. "He needs to go to the hospital again!" Sava raised an eyebrow. "Does he? Seems perfectly fine to me." Uncle Uter''s jaw almost hit the floor. His cheeks colored again. The telltale sign that he was about to burst into a rant. When Sava raised a hand to forestall his fury. "Listen Uter. You have got to let go of these biases of yours already. The world''s changed, whether you like it or not, and you have to get used to it. This here situation? This is normal around these parts." "How is this normal!?" He bellowed. "Okay. First of all. Lower your damn voice. I don''t let anyone speak to me like that. Not even people I like. I respect you enough to talk civilly so I''ll be expecting the same from you. Second, do you honestly think your damn nephew''s the only kid here who ever swung a door too hard?" She pointed at the spot where my head had been. The metal there was, slightly deformed. Then she pointed at me. "What you have to do in these situations is make a list of relevant factors and move on from there. Number one, is he conscious? Number two, is he breathing normally and without impediment? Number three, is he bleeding profusely? If the answer to any of these is yes, then he definitely needs a healer. If not, then it''s up for debate. Ask Cecil how he''s doing and let him decide." Uncle Uter was flabbergasted. Anger turning to incredulity and then back to anger again. "What kind of nonsense is that? What if he''s got a concussion?" "He''s level one ain''t he? You don''t really get concussions at that point. Not if you''ve got a halfway decent core. Again, I''m not saying that Cecil doesn''t need a hospital. I ain''t him and I don''t know how he''s feeling. My point is, you don''t know how he''s feeling either. Let the boy speak." It was then that I managed to squeeze in a few words. "I''m fine. I healed the damage. I'' fine uncle. Really." Uncle Uter''s attention snapped back to me. His eyes bulging as I wiped away the blood to reveal the newly-grown skin beneath. "Damn kid. That was quick." Sava said from behind him. "I guess the rumours were true. Good job working so hard all this time. You''ve earned it." "Thank yo... wait. What rumours?" "Never you mind that." Uncle Uter butt in. Stopping the conversation in its tracks before it had a chance to go any further. "Thank you, Sava. I''ll keep your input in mind. We''ll do some shopping now and then we''ll be on our way." She said nothing. Her eyes going from my uncle to me. "Okay Uter. I''ll stay out of it. Not like I got a horse in this race or anything. That said, you shouldn''t keep Cecil in the dark for too long. He''s got a right to know and better that he hear it from you than some of his friends." Uncle Uter''s nod was so stiff that, for a moment, I feared his neck might snap in two. Regardless, he did nod. After which, he helped me to my feet and the two of us loaded the car with as much food as we could possibly stuff into it. Him making several trips to the aisles and me bringing in half the stuff in one go. We worked in silence. Him sullenly stewing on the perceived impropriety while I kept going over the conversation in my head. ''What rumours could they be talking about? Did people know about my core already? It shouldn''t be that strange, right? Why would anyone be talking about me? Wait, Mr. Robertson did mention something about there only being five families with seventh-Stage cores. Including me and my new one. Could it be that it''s a special occasion? Or maybe it has nothing to do with the Stage of my core and much more to do with what kind of core it is.'' I vaguely recalled Marco saying something about healing powers being rare and sought after. No matter how strong your actual core was. ''Yeah. That makes sense. She saw me healing my face and figured the rumours were true. Although, if that was the reason, why wouldn''t uncle Uter talk to me about it?'' His reaction didn''t make sense in the slightest. If that was really the case and I was the new best healer in town, then chances were uncle Uter would be delighted. After all, it would mean taking up shifts in the hospital. Meaning that I wouldn''t be spending as much time in the Dungeon. Those work hours would also be compensated rather handsomely, so that was yet another reason to celebrate. Of course, there was that other option. The fact that Mr. Robertson and coach Russell had initiated an attack on an Alaskan town with the aim of giving people over there cores of their very own. An attack that had resulted in countless vehicles being totalled and more than a few buildings collapsing into rubble. An attack that had seen countless people getting injured. An attack that I had helped to facilitate. ''No. That makes even less sense. I told uncle Uter all about it. He found out from me. He wouldn''t be upset at rumor mongering. Unless he''s upset that other people know about it at all. Maybe he wanted coach Russell and Mr. Robertson to keep it to themselves.'' Come to think of it, yeah. If those two had been babbling about it, then I''d be pretty freaking upset as well, and the three of us would need to have a conversation about boundaries sooner rather than later. But uncle Uter didn''t bring the rumours up. Not while in the store and not while we were driving back. Instead, we rode the rest of the way as we''d driven before. In sullen silence. Chapter 22: A Faustian Dilemma. Unloading the food took far less time than I would have thought. The bags seeming to weigh next to nothing as I lifted them. I would have loved to work in silence. To get my mind off the weird comments from earlier. No such luck. "Cecil, I. Listen. I''m trying to teach you right. To make up for this past month. This situation is messed up, but there''s no reason why you shouldn''t have a normal upbringing regardless. I''m trying to get us back on that course." I sighed, despite myself. Turning back to him. "Uncle, I think you''re misunderstanding something. I don''t disagree with what you''re trying to do. I completely agree that this whole town is a madhouse and I really do want a more normal life. I''m trying, to have one. I''m trying so, so very hard to balance those wishes with the knowledge that I''m the only person out there who could be saving the literal world. The actual, honest to goodness future of the human species. I''m only mad because, of all the things you could have brought up, you chose that topic. I, dammit! It''s like you don''t even know me! What was going through your head!?" His face grew more somber. Somehow. His arms trembling as he carried a fifth of what I was lugging around. "It''s... I was talking around with other people in town. Apparently there''s been some trouble in the past with teens... getting up to things they shouldn''t be doing. I was worried." I shook my head in disbelief. "Uncle, that makes literally no sense. You know me. I''m not going to deny that there are stupid people out there, but you really should know me better than that!" "Yes. I do. But I also know that you''re already under a lot of stress and that you have a lot more independence than regular kids your age. On top of that, I... I''ve had to enter some, delicate talks about your future. The things that were brought up were, not the sort of things you should be dealing with. I... I realize that panicking isn''t smart and that I can''t keep you under my wing forever. So, I have to give you advice on being and adult now. While I still can." He sighed. Almost dropping one of his bags as his shoulders slouched. "Dammit it all! I want to communicate with you Cecil! But I keep stumbling over my words! I''m scared, okay? I''m scared of the things you''ve been forced to do and I''m even more scared of the things you chose to do. I see why you did them and even admire the sentiment, but I''m your guardian! I can''t help but worry and fuss over you!" I felt my blood cooling as I heard him out. "What do you mean, delicate talks?" He winced, almost dropping the right bag again. "Mr. Robertson, he, I don''t know how to say this. He seemed so, normal, when I first met him. Now though... he seems crazier and crazier the more we talk. He''s been saying that you''re going to get a job, in heavy quotation marks, and that you''re going to move out into a mansion or something. He also started talking some nonsense about a hot tub." "Oh yeah. He and coach Russell did mention that." It had only been yesterday, but it was already starting to feel like some distant fever dream. What with all the crazy things that happened. "Right. So, in their minds. You will work on these, special projects of theirs while also delving into that forsaken Dungeon and going to school. Mr. Robertson assured me that you would be kept safe and that you would be paid handsomely. As if that would make me feel better." "It doesn''t?" Uncle Uter looked at me as if I''d recently suffered a traumatic brain injury. "No! Cecil! It doesn''t! These people sound more and more insane the more they talk! They''re sending teens to a monster-filled hell-hole for goodness'' sake! Russell seems to think I''m loopy because I told him that you''d be going to school like a normal kid now that you got your core! And that''s not even getting into what Mr. Robertson brought up this morning. Did you know they''ve already listed a company under my name? One that will, supposedly, fix a lot of the country''s food shortages?" I blinked a few time sin quick succession. Wondering if I''d heard him right. "Huh? How?" "By using you. Apparently. He wants to try and grind down monster cores into plants you grow and sell them as regular foodstuffs. He says it might infuse the whole population with a pre-disposition for magic so that they can grow faster once you build dungeons under other towns. Don''t you see? This man already took it for granted that you would keep getting involved in this insanity! I had to put my foot down then and there, but he just chuckled at me like I was an imbecile!" I was too stunned to form proper words. Partly due to the rage and indignation that stemmed from my uncle being disrespected and partly from how admittedly brilliant that scheme was. I could, absolutely grow plants. Though I couldn''t mass produce them in any great numbers. Yet. However, if I somehow managed to do it and if I somehow managed to infuse my own magic and some extra juice from monster cores into them... Why, we could start getting people on the path to improvement way before I had to set any monsters loose. All while helping folks that couldn''t afford to eat. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. After all, I''d made that vine in my room in seconds and that was a mere day after getting my powers for the first time. Those vegetable bears and gorillas hadn''t taken much either and those had been complex super mutants capable of tanking shotgun shells like they were tennis balls. It wasn''t a bad idea. Not in the slightest. In fact, depending on how effective the foodstuffs were, I might not have to make dungeons at all. Uncle Uter seemed to sense something from my posture, because he went slightly pale. "Cecil, you can''t tell me that you''re seriously considering this madness." "Uncle, I... I mean. It''s not a bad idea per se. I don''t know if I can pull it off yet, but its worth a shot at least." "Of course it is!" Mr. Robertson said cheerfully. I whirled about. So fast that I almost dropped my own bags. Thankfully, my new reflexes let me catch them just in time, though i did end up squeezing one of the milk bags too tightly and rupturing the thing so that the liquid stained my new clothes. "Ooooh. That stings Cecil. You''ll have to work on those new reflexes of yours. Have you gone into the Dungeon since getting to level one? I''m told it''s a completely new experience." "When the fuck did you get here!?" "Uncle! Language!" "Fuck our language Cecil! This man just snuck up on us while we were unloading groceries! I want to know when he got here and what his business is! Then I want him to get his old, decrepit ass out! Right this instant!" I gaped at him. Not quite believing this was the same man who''d raised me all these years. Uncle Uter''s face was beet red and strained with barely contained fury. His arms dropping down the grocery bags on the porch so that he could point menacingly at the older man. "Now you listen here Carlyle. Tolerating your nonsense at the office is one thing, but you coming here uninvited is quite another. I will not have you going near my family any more than you already have." He paused, lowering his voice even further. Until his utterances came out as a guttural growl that reverberated in the warm summer air. "I will not stand for it. You hear me? I will not!" I expected Mr. Robertson to snap in return. For him to go on a tirade regarding how important his own cause was. Or perhaps for him to threaten uncle Uter for talking to him in such a manner. Instead, the older man offered what could best be described as a simpering smile. Completely unlike the zealous, almost maniacal expressions he had donned the night before. "Uter, Uter. You wound me. I didn''t come here with any ill intentions. Quite the contrary. I came here to personally reward Cecil for his exemplary service to our community and to offer him another, less jarring line of work." He brought up his hands in a placating gesture. Donning the mask of a humble man who had been thoroughly chastised. "I understand that our last meeting was a little off-putting and that I placed too many burdens on Cecil''s shoulders. So, I came to say that I wholeheartedly agreed with you." "You do?" I said. Shocked beyond words. Mr. Robertson perked up. "Why, of course Cecil! Don''t get me wrong, I want to save the world as much as the next guy, but I would never endanger anyone within Dunstonberry to do so. If these endeavors are too much, then there are other options. I believed you were told about the farm steading plan already? It''s just that. You go into the Dungeon, just as you''ve done these past few weeks, and use the soil there to grow crops. As many as you can and as fast as you can. That way, you don''t have to leave town every other day while still contributing to the survival of humanity as a whole. After all, you can''t deny that farmers are an integral part of society." His smile widened. "Think of yourself as a, more efficient sort of farmer. One that can produce entire crop yields in an afternoon. Don''t you think that this is a far better alternative to what we did yesterday? Especially when you take into account how many regular farmers are losing their entire harvests due to the growing magical density?" This man. This old, mummy-like man, actually cried on command. "I mean, just think of all the people out there that are going to go hungry tonight? Not just here in Canada or in other first-world countries, but also around the globe? Think of the millions of people in disadvantaged communities that can''t afford the price of bread? Isn''t it cruel for us to sit idly by while they starve? Isn''t it morally reprehensible for us to do nothing while we could be alleviating, or even fixing the issue?" Uncle Uter hesitated. Just for a fraction of a second, but he did consider the old man''s words. That''s when I knew Mr. Robertson had him. "That''s all well and good, but I''m still not letting you go near my kids." Uncle Uter protested, though less fiercely than before. "Please Uter. You''re making me sound like some kind of villain. All while I stand here and literally advocate for a way to feed hundreds of millions of hungry people worldwide." He stepped closer. Donning a thoroughly admonished expression. "Besides, I thought this was what you wanted. Cecil gets an ordinary job where he doesn''t have to fight or risk his person in any conceivable way and you get to distance yourself from our, other operations. He can grow potatoes, turnips and pumpkins on some days and heal people in the hospital on other days. Meanwhile, you can put all your organizational skills to work by distributing the products throughout the world. You get a new, more personally satisfying job that allows you to keep tabs on your nephew while making way more money than before. All with the added benefit of knowing he''s perfectly safe and that you''re doing making a completely positive impact on the world at large." ''Bullshit.'' The thought came suddenly and decisively. Almost by instinct. Yet I knew in my heart of hearts that this feeling was right. Mr. Robertson might not have been lying, but that didn''t mean he was telling the truth. I might have only met the man yesterday, but I already knew enough to tell that much. Oh, he meant the thing about feeding the hungry. It was a simple, obvious solution to one of the biggest problems his plans would face going forward after all. You can''t give people magic cores if they''re literally starving to death and you can''t shape the masses into monster-fighting militias if they''re too weak to move. Or dead. Me having these powers advanced several of his agendas at once. Not only would he get to stabilize the world''s economy before the coming monster apocalypse, he would also get to be the sole consistent supplier of foodstuffs for the next few years. Meaning a ludicrous amount of money would keep flowing into Dunstonberry and whatever other endeavors he might have. While he also made off like a bandit with a not insignificant amount of political leverage over less developed countries. Even then, I knew that wasn''t the whole picture. There was simply no way that the man I saw yesterday would give up on forming Dungeons beneath towns to give people cores. His eyes had glittered too much back then. His face had been too ecstatic. I was about to call him out, when I saw the expression on my uncle''s face. The sheer, overwhelming amount of relief that was evident there. ''Oh, you crafty old bastard.'' It was so simple I almost cried. I could point it all out now. It really was up to me. However, I would then have to live with the fact that I condemned an uncountable number of people to having no cores. I would have to live my life knowing that millions died when they might have had the strength to live. Or, I could keep my mouth shut and let my uncle believe what he wanted to believe. Knowing that he and the rest of my family would be kept safe and happy and, if anything, richer than most other people in the wider world. With all the luxuries they could ever want. I shivered at the manipulative genius of this man. Wondering is he was an angel or a demon, even as I made my choice. Chapter 23: Going Forward. Eva was staring at me all throughout breakfast. Her big eyes tracking my every movement as I wolfed down fried eggs and steamed veggies. "Does it hurt?" She asked quietly. "Does what hurt?" "The muscles. Like, you got so big so fast. Did it hurt when your muscles got big?" "Uh, no?" I answered. A bit confused as to why she would ask that. "It looks painful." She said. "Like, I can see your veins on the muscles. It looks like it hurts." "I''m sure he''s fine." Uncle Uter cut in. His eyes focused on some paperwork Mr. Robertson had left the night before. Eva nodded, but kept stealing glances. "Is growing muscles all you can do?" She asked. Her voice dropping in volume until it was a hushed whisper. "No. I can other things. Like, growing plants or turning myself into animals or, healing people." She nodded seriously. "And, can you turn back? To how you were? Can you turn small again?" "I mean, I''m pretty sure I could. Eventually. Though, this feels more natural. I did try to shrink yesterday but that didn''t work out so well. I still have a few issues to iron out." I struggled to find the right words for a few moments. "It''s like this. My new body feels just like my old one, only better. I can put magic into it to change it, but only if it''ll make it even better. Does that make sense?" "Not really." Uncle Uter commented. His voice gaining a bit of an edge. Eva nodded along as if she agreed and waited for a better answer. Her big green eyes peeking through her sandy bangs and shining with expectation. "Okay. Let''s try to explain it in a different way. When I change into anything else, I feel the transformation eating up magic. Quickly, at first, when I''m still transforming, and more slowly later on when I''m keeping myself in that shape. For example, I''m pretty sure I could grow wings and start flying, but that would eat up magic for every minute that I do it. Its the same for my old shape. I think. This body doesn''t need magic to stay all big and muscular, but I would need to use up magic to make myself small again. Even then, I''m not sure I could do it right now. I don''t know how I know, but I know it. I have this feeling that turning myself into something smaller is going to be far harder than making myself bigger or growing wings or a tail or something else. Does that make sense?" Eva nodded. "I''m glad." She sighed. "All my friends say that you get the magic your family has and I didn''t want my only magic to be muscle magic." Her statement came so abruptly that I had to laugh. My lungs burning as I let the merriment out. It felt good to laugh. It felt right. As if a part of me had been missing for some time and I just now got it back. ''Which is so weird, because all this nonsense happened within the last two days.'' I thought to myself. Regardless, it felt amazing to smile and howl and hoot in that manner again. Eva scowled at me. Standing up from her chair and stomping her little feet. "Don''t make fun of me! This is serious!" I laughed harder. Which only made her pout more fiercely. Her bubbly cheeks turning an indignant shade of red. "Stop it! Stop it Cecil! All my friends have magic already and I''m the only one who doesn''t! They''re always asking me what I''m gonna get and I don''t know what to tell them!" That sobered me up a little, but what truly took me out of the jolly mood was the look on Uncle Uter''s face. He was not laughing. Indeed, if looks could kill, that stare of his would landed him a trial at the Hague. "Are you being bullied?" He asked. His voice as dour as the grave. She looked startled, but shook her head. "No. Everyone is really nice to me here. I like it much more than my old school. Its just..." She bit her lips. "I don''t like being the only one there without magic. Mrs. Nielsen says we''re not supposed to use it at all because we''re little, but all my friends talk about it and they use their magic a little when she''s not looking." You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. She hesitated for a moment before continuing. "It looks so much fun when they do it. I... I want to do it too. But no one knows what kind of core I''ll get. My friend Sally says that if you get a bad core, then they send you away to another town with a smaller Dungeon." Her eyes drooped downwards and she looked abashed. "I...I don''t want to leave. I like it here. I like my new friends. I want to get magic too and join in when they''re making fire and ice crystals and gusts of wind. I... I thought that I should see what Cecil does, because I''ll get the same core." Uncle Uter remained stone-faced, so it was up to me to speak up. "That''s... not how it works Eva. When they say that you get the core that your family gets, they mean between parents and children. I don''t know what kind of core you''ll get. My friends did say that people who are related and delving for the first time get similar cores, but yours might be slightly different from mine." She nodded. Her eyes sparkling at this new information. "Then, what do I need to do to get a good core? I want to fly! How do I get a core that lets me fly?" I stiffened. Though, not as much as Uncle Uter did. I could imagine what was going through his head. After all, I was definitely thinking it too. As powerful and necessary as magic was, the thought of Eva strolling down the Dungeon steps was enough to make me sick to my stomach. I imagined a pack of Rippers surrounding her. Their terrible eyes tracking her movements as warm saliva dripped down from their fangs. A chill ran up my spine and I felt my stomach twisting around as if trying to escape. It was almost too much to bear. I was sure that he would stand up then. That he would lose his cool and demand that Eva stay away from magic. But, he didn''t. Instead, he schooled his features and went back to eating his breakfast. "Its too soon to talk about that." He said, with grim finality. "Your teachers haven''t told you about it because they don''t think its time yet. In this case, I have to agree with them. We''ll talk about it when you''re older." Eva pouted. Said something about how it wasn''t fair and went back to her breakfast as well. I could do no such thing. It was my turn to stare. Wondering who this stranger was and what he''d done with my uncle. I mean, there was no way that the man who had been so vehemently opposed to me going down into the Dungeon would be okay with letting Eva learn about it from some local townie. The uncle Uter I knew would move heaven and earth to instill a deep primordial fear of the place into Eva and he would lash out with pure venom at anyone that even suggested the notion of her getting a core. ''So, why is he being so casual now? Does he think its still far off into the future?'' In some respects, that was right. But uncle Uter had never been one to skip on lectures when it came to us. Both me and Eva had been taught all the do''s and don''ts of school before we attended and we''d both been instilled with a healthy suspicion of strangers by the time we set foot into a classroom. Which made his calm demeaner all the more worrying. It was as if he didn''t think it was a problem. As if he didn''t think Eva would have to step into the Dungeon at all. ''And maybe she doesn''t need to.'' I thought with a start. ''If I get good enough at making monsters, she could get a decent core while beating them up in the safety of the surface. There would be no need for her to delve.'' The more I thought about it, the more realistic the idea became. Until the plans were swirling in my mind and shoving all other thoughts away. ''Its decided then. I can''t spend another day lounging around. I need to get stronger and I need to get stronger fast. Not just for the future Mr. Robertson predicted, but for Eva as well.'' I finished off the rest of my plate and stood up. Making for the door without another word. "Where are you going?" Uncle Uter called out without raising his head. His voice oddly monotone. "I''m going out with my friends." I answered. Not untruthfully. Uncle Uter grunted, but said no more. Focused as he was on his own plate and the papers in his hands. Eva was complaining that it wasn''t fair. Bemoaning the fact that she wasn''t allowed to go out with friends as I exited the house. But my mind wasn''t focused on her pleas. All I could think about was the Dungeon and the creatures that I would unleash therein.
"Why is she here?" I hissed at Marco as I dragged him away from the group. "Okay, first of all. Cool it with the attitude man." He said, as he brought up a hand to forestall my complaints. "Second of all, you asked for a volunteers and you asked me to keep it on the down low. So, I went around asking people I knew wouldn''t snitch. Third of all..." He looked me up and down. "Nice going with the core." He said. Grinning like a fool. "You really hit the jackpot. As in, you''re big as a water tank and super jacked. Its a good look on you." "Thanks." I answered, momentarily caught off-guard by the compliment. "Wait, no! Never mind that! Why would you think bringing Elsie along was a good idea?" He looked at me in the same manner as he would a recently lobotomized gorilla with drool dripping down its face. "Because she was willing to go and wasn''t likely to snitch. Like I told you. Also, she''s level 3, so she''s way, way stronger than most of us put together." He pointed out. "Don''t let it be said that I don''t learn from my mistakes. That episode with the boss was a serious eye-opener. With her coming along, we basically guarantee that nothing below the seventh floor can scratch us. This way, you get to train longer, in deeper floors and you can really test out your limits. That''s what you asked for wasn''t it?" I held my breath. Seeing his point. "But...but!" I sighed in exasperation. "Why would she even come in the first place? She hates me." Marco gave me that look again. The disappointment in his face beyond anything I had seen from him up to that point. "You know, Cecil. For a smart guy, you can be pretty stupid sometimes." "What is that supposed to mean?" This time, it was his turn to sigh. "Never mind that now. Look. This team is as good as you''re going to get on short notice. Maybe even on a long notice. I don''t know. Even if we leave Elsie aside, Yuann''s core is [Time]. Emma''s core is [Sun]. Sean''s core is [Dinosaur]. His has the added bonus of being similar to yours. On top of that, we got Fernanda and Julian. Coach Russell''s kids by his second wife. They''re both our age but they''re both monsters. Together, we can reach as low as the eighth floor without breaking a sweat. Are you really going to back away now? When we''re all ready to get some serious training going? Is this what your determination amounts to?" His words were infuriating. But he had a point. There was no backing off now. It was time to delve. Chapter 24: Dino-Mania. Descending the stairs to the Dungeon was a different experience, now that I had a core. The creeping darkness didn''t seem so oppressive anymore. Almost as if the depths of the shadows were somehow diminished by my own power. "Well? What did you expect silly?" Elsie quipped from the side. "The Rippers up here were already too weak to hunt local children if, by some coincidence, one or more managed to get out. The magic up top simply isn''t enough for them yet, and they''re not natural beings like us. Meaning they can''t make their own magic. On the other hand, you''re a proper magical being now. With a level and skills and everything. Not to mention those muscles." She and Fernanda tittered by themselves. In a way that was singularly suited to setting my teeth on edge. "Honestly, I''d be very surprised if any of them had the strength to bite through your skin as it is now." I turned to look at her. My feet pausing their descent as my body stiffened. "You''re reading my mind." I said flatly. The lack of humor in my tone only made her smile. "Well, duh. I''m reading everyone''s mind. Comes with the core." ''Well isn''t that nifty.'' I groaned internally. ''Means the old codger was reading me like an open book the whole time we were together. Same with him and Uncle Uter. No wonder he had me dancing in the palm of his hands. Going on and on about saving the world and whatnot. Does he actually want to do it or was it all a ruse to get me on board with terrorizing a town?'' "The former." Elsie said, unprompted. "Grandpa''s been trying to save the world for a long, long time. Even before me and my dad were born. Don''t get me wrong, I''m not gonna sit here and tell you he''s a choir boy with perfectly clean hands. He definitely gets ahead of himself on occasion. But the one thing you can always count on is that he''s trying to save the world. Or, at least as much of it as he can. Whatever he had you do, I highly suspect it was for the greater good." "Okay, you guys need to stop talking so ominously." Ramji chided with evident frustration. Then he pointed at her. "I thought Sean was supposed to be the sinister one here Elsie. You''ve been making fun of my friend here since we started heading down. Actually, scratch that, you''ve been bullying him for over a month now. So, you either cut that shit out or you get lost." I whirled to him. Thankful that someone else said something, while also a bot confused. "Did you just call Sean sinister?" "Yes! Because he''s always going on about feeding people to dinosaurs! Besides, he came up with the nickname. Not me." "That''s right." Sean said. Speaking for the first time since I''d been introduced to him. "I am indeed Sean the sinister. Though I don''t want to feed people to dinosaurs. I want to bring dinosaurs back from extinction and release them to live out their lives. Big difference." "How is that any different!?" I found myself asking. "And why would you call yourself something like, ''The Sinister''?" Sean looked at me, cackled softly while touching his fingertips together and then looked away as if we were done with this conversation. "Oy! No! We are not done here!" I turned to the others. "Are we just going to ignore the massive red flags there!" Elsie barked out a laugh. "He''s messing with you!" "It sure as shit didn''t feel like it! What did you say his core was again?" Sean turned to me once more. Cackled once more and then turned away again. "Seriously? Am I the only one who sees a problem with this?" "Dude, its fine." Marco assured me. "He''s always like this. Let''s just keep going before someone misses us." "Couldn''t have said it better myself." Elsie agreed. She hopped down seven steps in one swift motion. Landing perfectly with both feet planted firmly on a single stone tile. Her posture and demeanor remained relaxed as she did so. Her superhuman dexterity making such a leap triflingly easy. ''She''s like a cat.'' I thought to myself. ''All grace and guile and fluid motions. Her being level 3 means she should have at least six times as many stat points as me. Them being doubled after level 2 and then tripled after reaching her current level. The thought of falling probably didn''t cross her mind. Dammit. Of course she isn''t worried about Sean saying creepy things. She could probably take us all on if she wanted.'' "Thank you." She beamed. "I do love cats. Though I prefer dogs. Also, you''re quite right. The thought of falling never occurred to me. After all, what would happen if I did?" I couldn''t help but notice how the last few thoughts I''d had weren''t addressed. The fact of her obvious superiority remaining unsaid. I thought about those stat points again. Imagining how, despite the obvious difference in our body types, she was probably much more solidly built than me. Those arms and legs might be thin, but the point values alone meant that she was head and shoulders above any normal bodybuilder in existence. ''She might even be at a level where she can tank bullets without a problem. At the very least, gravity certainly wouldn''t be an issue. Unless she was falling from a skyscraper or something. Even then, normal people do sometimes survive those kinds of falls. Shoot. I''m going to need to ask Marco about the kind of damage I can expect from falling before I start trying to fly.'' I considered, with no small amount of bitterness. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. "Probably not much." I allowed. "And stop reading my mind." "Nope!" She denied. Shooting me an impish grin as she did so. "Great grandpa Carlyle says you''re important. So I can''t have you doing something stupid now can I? I have to keep both eyes and my brain locked on to you at all times, in case I have to stop you from hurting yourself." My eyebrows furrowed as I took her meaning. "Is that why you''re here? Because Mr. Robertson told you to come?" She brought up a hand to her face and snickered. Her eyes narrowing in a way that made her look cartoonish as she mocked me. "I''m here because I want to be here silly. Though great grandpa did ask me to keep tabs on you after your expedition. Again, something about you being very important. Kudos by the way. There aren''t a lot of people out there who can get a compliment out of him these days. Especially not so soon after meeting him for the first time." I snorted. "Please. You''re making Mr. Robertson seem like some dour old man. The guy couldn''t stop cracking jokes with coach Russell the whole time we were together." I''d expected her to keep up her teasing after that. But the reactions I got were very different from what I had in mind. Elsie stepped back. Schooling her expression and looking thoughtful. All the others had gone slack-jawed at my words. Eyes popping out as if they''d just seen Terry Fox himself bursting through the walls behind me, riding a grizzly bear and juggling lemon pies. "What?" I asked, getting a distinctive feeling I''d committed some kind of social faux-pas. "Stop looking at me like I''m somehow weird due to how Mr. Robertson acts. I didn''t do anything wrong." Marco gulped. Looking a bit sick all of the sudden. "Dude, no one is saying you did anything wrong. Its the opposite. You''re a bigshot." I scoffed. Trying to play off the awkwardness as nothing of note. Meanwhile, my mind was abuzz with the details of Mr. Robertson''s ambitions. Faint recollections coming back to me all of the sudden, regarding the overseas businesses and shell companies he and coach Russell and many others in town were involved in. How Mr. Robertson had emphasized my own importance in his grand design. Not to mention the role I would play in his food distribution scheme. I was about to try and deflect once more, when Elsie cleared her throat. "Never you mind that Marco. My family''s business stays in the family until pops says otherwise. If Cecil feels like talking about it, then he''s more than welcome to. If not, then you really shouldn''t be stepping over his boundaries like this. Especially not now, after you''ve already agreed to help him train. Let''s just go down to the first floor and see what he can do. After that, if he wants to go deeper or talk about is recent experiences, that''s on him. Real friends wouldn''t be pressuring him though." "That''s right." Fernanda said haughtily. "There''s no reason for you guys to pry any deeper into this. We''re here to help a friend and that''s that." "Right on." Her brother Julian agreed. Both of them managing to sound remarkably like coach Russell as they echoed each other. "Wait a second, since when are you guys friends with Cecil?" Drew asked pointedly. "Since none of your business." Fernanda followed up without missing a beat. "All you need to know is that Cecil is our friend and we want to make sure he''s all right. Isn''t that right Emma?" Emma looked up from her bracelet for the first time in the conversation. "Uh, no. I''m just here to burn stuff without getting into trouble. I couldn''t care less about the rest." Then she went back to her videos. Seemingly done with the conversation. Yuann and Sean looked at her, shrugged and chipped in. "I''m here because I want to advance my goal of total dinosaur resuscitation." Sean confessed. Before releasing another, fainter cackle. "I''m here because Ramji asked me to come." Yuann offered. I shook my head. "It doesn''t matter. I... Enough. Let''s just get to training already."
The training in question involved some seeds I''d brought with me. Courtesy of Sava''s gardening supplies. They were supposed to be a diverse assortment of different kinds of fruits and vegetables. Ranging from mangoes to apples to watermelons, tomatoes, potatoes and green beans. "The idea is that I can test out a whole bunch of them at once and see which ones are the least aggressive." I explained. Ramji looked perplexed at that. "Um, I know I''m not an expert or anything, but wouldn''t you want to find the ones that are the most aggressive for fighting in the Dungeon?" "Not if he wants to throw them at his sister for free training." Drew countered. "Yeah, but that shouldn''t be your concern right now." Ramji insisted. "I mean, she''s what? Eight? Even if she starts hitting mutant potatoes all day every day, she won''t get a core until she''s like, thirteen or something." "True." I granted. "But I would still like to be ready for when that happens. I don''t want her to go through the kind of training and monster hunting that I went through." Emma piped up at that. "I hate to break it to you man, but I don''t think that''s a healthy attitude to have. I mean, I''m not gonna stand here and tell you to bring her along right now, but she''s going to start hunting monsters eventually. Whether you like it or not." "She''s right." Fernanda piled on. "As good as our perimeter defenses are, the odd Ripper or two will still slip through the net. And that''s right now. Before the whole world comes crashing down. Could you imagine what it''ll be like when the first monsters start spawning on the surface?" "Actually, I can." Sean interrupted. "It''ll be another mass extinction. Like the one that killed the dinosaurs. We already know the top soil layer has been degraded by magic and we already know its causing food shortages worldwide. Plants are having to adapt and the one that can''t adapt fast enough are going the way of the dodo. They won''t be the one ones either. With the plants go the herbivores and with the herbivores go the carnivores and with the carnivores go the scavengers. It''s a vicious cycle. A race to the bottom. Where only the most well-adapted animals will get to incorporate magic into themselves fast enough to remain competitive in the ecosystem. Animals like pigs or wild cats, for example, will most certainly survive. As will diverse species like foxes, owls, spiders, scorpions and crocodilians. Even if one or two species go down, there are enough around that the overall Genus will remain. Just like what happened the last few times the earth underwent a mass extinction." He cackled again. More furiously this time. "After all, crocodilians and their ilk are literally millions upon millions of years old. Something like this won''t faze them in the slightest. If anything, it will make them even more awesome." He turned to the rest of us. "On the other hand, things like pandas or koalas or those cute little monkeys whose names escape me at the moment are cooked. Absolutely, positively cooked. I will be very surprised if any of them make past the first month when the big changes start arriving. Let alone the first year. Heck, pandas are so bad at surviving that even zoos struggle to keep their numbers up and that''s with millions of dollars going into getting them paired up and breeding all around the world." Sean shook his head sadly. "See? This never would have happened to dinosaurs. They went down swinging when their time came and some of them managed to evolve out of the mass extinction. Just you wait. I''ll start with getting crocs back to their former glorious size and then, I''ll go for the lizards, and the snakes and all the other..." "Okay Sean, we get it. You''re passionate." Elsie groaned. Suddenly looking a lot less cheery than before. "Leave it for a second and let Cecil do his thing. Okay?" Sean looked taken aback and grumbled something before shuffling away. "Thank you." Elsie called out from where she stood. "Now then, Cecil. Let''s see what you can do with those seeds." Chapter 25: Patches of Green. The results came in quickly, once I put my mind to it. The potatoes, apples, mangoes and watermelons all grew nice and fat within seconds of me infusing them with magic. The seeds spreading open and rooting themselves to the ground with astounding alacrity, despite how blackened and stiff the dirt down here was. Indeed, a wave of greens and vibrant browns soon started overtaking the bleak landscape of the first floor. The looming stone trees and their bare branches losing much and more of their overbearing presence when contrasted with the newly blossoming vegetation. "It''s so weird to see living trees here." Drew commented. "That''s what you think is weird?" Ramji asked, raising one of his eyebrows. "Not the fact that they''re growing in minutes?" Drew made a rude noise. "Of course that''s not weird. It''s magic." Emma chortled for a second. Before one of the spreading branches of a mango tree struck her in the face. "Hey! Watch it!" She complained. Embers starting to gather at the corners of her eyes. Turning their usual deep blue into a resplendent yellow that matched her locks. The air crackling like a log in the fireplace as waves of heat washed off of her. Elsie only laughed off her indignation. I wasn''t paying much attention to them though. All of my senses were transfixed on the majesty of this transformation. My eyes drowned in the vibrancy of the new colors pushing back the grey. The changes stark even in this sullen darkness. My ears hummed with the sounds of growing tree trunks and branches. A chorus of wood scraping and snapping under the weight of their own growth, only to feel no pain from their own enlargement. I heard each and every leaf grow out of each knub on every branch. So quickly that it sounded like a hundred different maracas shaking in the evening air. A music that brought life from death. Joy from misery. The sounds were so pleasant, so very intoxicating, that they took me away from myself. From the here and now. My nose was tickled by the fresh smells of nature. Real, true nature. Not like the cheap imitation of the first floor. Not like the empty, drained, bleached backdrop where Rippers and ghouls made their lairs amidst the stale air of a thousand, thousand fossilized carcasses. The smells entered my nostrils and assaulted my brain. Until the trees all around us shred in the sensations and reveled in their own scents. Enjoying stimulating ideas and concepts they would never have been privy to. My fingers gripped the earth. The new, living earth. I felt some of the roots digging deep into the dirt, into the hardened soil beneath, into the very bedrock of the Dungeon floor. I gasped as I began to share their sense of touch. My fingers seeming to multiply within the recesses of my mind as I felt wooden claws tearing and ripping at the barriers that tried to stem their flow. I swallowed and tasted a little bit of blood in my mouth. My nervous system spreading out over other organisms as my new magical senses shared me, all of me, over them. So that I was all that I had grown. So that I could very clearly see the forces stemming further growth. The conspirators enforcing a limit to this sense of happiness and expansion and fulfillment. So that I could feel the hunger creeping in again. The primordial rage that had so thoroughly consumed me during my fight against the monsters in the swamp. The very same fury that had radiated from the bears and apes that I had set loose upon my fellow humans. Then there were roots. Incalculable in number and endowed with a strength foreign to most plants, magic or otherwise. They sought rippers and they sought ghouls. Exploding from the ground like a million, million wooden splinters. To skewer bags of dead meat up on high above the previously dead canopy. Then there was fire. Then there was smoke. And the air became choked with the screams of the dying and the ashes of the dead. Something, someone, some human, had set the area alight. There were voices accompanying the travesty. Calling out for some foreign concept. A bag of muscle and bone and sinew that had turned into me. For a brief instant, it was as if there was no being called Cecil. Only another, smaller, more potent tree. Fathering thousands upon thousands more. New seeds erupting from adult fruits and falling unto the ground like raindrops. Continuing the cycle over and over and over and... "....il!.... Ce....il! Cecil!" I blinked. The sound of my name taking out of whatever stupor I had been locked in. Or, rather, I tried to blink. My eyes felt.... well. They didn''t feel like they were there. Instead, I felt another layer of bark where my face should have been. Spreading down my torso and legs so that it anchored me to the same earth that my plants now called their own. I then felt, other things. Tugging and pulling coming from decidedly human hands. Trying to lure me away from the spot to which I remained rooted. I undid the transformation on myself. Turning bark back to flesh and bone with a grunt of effort. "Well, at least I got to burn something before we had to cut this trip short." A voice spoke. It sounded like Emma, but it was hard to tell with how detached it was from the mess my senses had become. When I came out, my shirt was shredded beyond recognition. Looking more like a rag some hobbled monster would wear during a school play than anything else. My shoes hadn''t survived the process either. Though, thankfully, enough of my pants remained to protect what little dignity I had left. Elsie and Fernanda both whistled. The former in a mocking fashion, with the latter joining in to back her up. "Whoa there, city boy! Don''t they teach you modesty out there in the mean streets of Toronto?" Fernanda giggled. "Hey!" Marco snapped. "Cut that nonsense out! I''ve been where he''s at. It happens every time someone in our family starts practicing with their gigantification. You guys piling on isn''t cute. It''s bullying behavior and it makes you seem like... like some things I am not going to say. It''s a learning process okay? Can the quips until my buddy here gets his bearings." Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Elsie at least, had the grace to blush. "Chill out Marco. We were just teasing him a little." Fernanda countered. Though even her brother was giving her a measured, silent glance. Ramji stepped forward then. As did Drew. "Yeah right. Of course. So I guess you won''t mind standing over there quietly now." Drew scoffed. "You''re asking too much. Their little brains need the stimulation. Can''t go a full five minutes before kicking someone while they''re down. Why did you even come here if all you were gonna do is whine and cackle like a bog witch?" "Excuse me?" Fernanda stammered. Reddening as she reared back. "You''re the one that came to us asking for a favor. You''re the one that wanted us to be here in case you needed help with..." She waved her hands at the burning forest all around us. "Whatever this is. Kudos by the way. Those trees are gonna be real easy for your little cousin to fight. You can tell by all the dead Rippers hanging off the branches. I''m sure Mr. Robertson is gonna be real pleased too. The normies outside are gonna love having to risk their limbs to grab apples from the man-eating tree. Or potatoes that are trying to tear their legs off as they jump up from the ground. That''s going to be a real people-pleaser." Elsie tugged at the hem of her shirt in silence. Drawing her away with a silent motion and going back to the staircase hand in hand. Their departure left the rest of us in relative silence, with the only noises around coming from the remains of Emma''s attack as the leaves burned overhead. I looked up. Trying to take in the full extent of what I had done and suddenly finding myself weakened from the near-total depletion of my magic. Up above, the fruits remined mostly intact, despite the rampaging flames eating away at the branches. The apples and mangoes having grown so large that they resembled pumpkins more than anything else. ''And even then, they would have been freakishly large pumpkins.'' Another few glances below told a similar story. The potatoes were half-dug into the ground, with only a few vines and leaves sticking out to taste the air in a manner that was very clearly predatory. At the same time, the watermelons had grown to the size of cars. Their sheer bulk making it so that any one of them here could feed a couple of families for a week. Maybe two, depending on how many people we were talking about. Meanwhile, the green beans were.... "Hey, where did the green beans go?" "Deeper into the Dungeon" Julian offered. "I pegged them as the most dangerous right from the start. They grew teeth before any of the others and some started shooting at us." I narrowed my eyes in confusion. "Shooting at us?" ''Did they grow little green pistols too?'' "Yes Cecil. Shooting at us." Sean confirmed. Doing that sinister thing with his hands where he kept touching his fingertips together in front of him. "From what I gathered, it seemed to be a process that relied on building up air pressure very suddenly, in order to propel sharpened projectiles. Sort of how human lungs take in air by stretching outwards and then push it out by compressing themselves. In that sense, you could see the, improvised artillery as something akin to a highly-efficient Pneumatic Air gun. Only, inside a biological organism. One that produces its very own ammunition in real-time by way of growing specialized sharpened seeds shaped like high-caliber bullets." He pointed to one of the nearby boulders that the trees had displaced as they consumed the land beneath them. There, on the surface, was a spiderweb like pattern where the stone had been fragmented, with a hole at the center that had the width of a watch''s face. There was a small tangle of green vines reaching out from the hole at the center. The tiny tendrils having embedded themselves into the solid material before aggressively expanding. I thought of what might have happened if the target had been a person, instead of a rock. Then I shuddered. In contrast, Sean looked oddly pensive. Almost pleased. "You know, [Plant] isn''t considered a very strong basic core. Not compared to other ones like [Fire], [Strength] or [Grow]. It isn''t often called upon to attack... well... anything. It being far more useful in construction and the rapid development of a barren terrain. That, or as a way to quickly replenish the town''s resources when the Dungeon has one of its episodes and needs some time to cool off. This way of using the magic to create a field of death has been tried, but, I do not believe it has ever seen this level of success. I does make me wonder. My own core, [Dinosaur] is a mixture of [Adaptation], [Constitution], [Animal] and [Grow], so I believed our abilities would be somewhat similar and that there was much we could learn from each other. Yet, I can''t help but think that I''m missing a key component, now that I have seen this spectacle. I''ve been too narrow minded in my views. Yes. Too complacent. It is a good sign. So much more to learn. So many more options to explore. After all, if you could do this with mere seeds and beans, who knows what you could do with some fossils or living descendants of dinosaurs." He let out a small cackle. "Mmmm. Yes. Soon the day will come when dinosaurs walk the land again. Soon. Very soon." I turned to my friends. "Seriously! Does no one else see a problem with this!?" Ramji and Marco glanced at each other briefly, before shrugging as one. "I think he''s giving you a compliment." Drew explained. "In his own, Sean sort of way." "Well, for what it''s worth, I thought it was cool." Yuann offered afterwards. "I mean, yes. We did get shot by a bunch of beans, but I think it was a learning experience. There''s a first time for everything and this seems like it went pretty smoothly, now that we got you out." "I agree." Julian concurred. "You losing track of the growth of the plants was, not ideal. But everyone here has at least a few stories where something went wrong the first few months they started training in earnest." He snuck a peek at Marco. "Some more than others." Marco shrugged in response. "I ain''t about to apologize for that time, if that''s what you were setting up. I maintain that it was an accident made while under stressful circumstances. I also maintain that you''re a tool for holding a little thing like that over me all these years." Julian rolled his eyes. "Fine. Whatever. My point is, this isn''t necessarily a big deal Cecil. Mr. Robertson wanted a lot of food to be grown very quickly and you showed you could deliver. You wanted some nice little docile monsters for your cousin to fight and you got them. Now..." "Wait, I did?" I asked in surprise. Looking around once again to take in the devastating effects of my magic. "The watermelons." Drew suggested. "They''re actually the only ones that haven''t attacked us. Even when we hit them a few times. Could be they''re so tough they don''t even feel my punches, but Julian cracked one open and the rest didn''t fight back. So, I think we''re good." Julian cleared his throat. Bringing our attention back to him. "That is true. However, that doesn''t mean this session has to end today. It has only been an hour or so and this is only the first floor." He pointed to some of the fallen apples and mangoes. Their ripe innards having been exposed to the air after crashing down. Revealing larger seeds than the ones we had started with. "We do have an opportunity here, with all of us working together. You could get a lot more training in, if we went deeper. I''ve already heard you guys did well against the jellyfish boss, right? Imagine how much training we could get on that floor. Or the fifth. Or the sixth." His eyes shone with an avaricious gleam. "It wouldn''t be dangerous, with someone as high-levelled as Elsie tagging along. Who knows? You might even squeeze a point or two while working on your..." He paused, considering his words. "Skill issue." I heard his argument. Nodding all the while. Yet, when I looked around from my sitting position, I saw something the rest of them did not. I saw how the life I had sown had taken the magic of the first floor and made it their own. What''s more, I felt their echoing hunger. A lingering malice that, while weaker than those of the apes and the bears I''d previously made, still simmered underneath a surface of tranquility. If the effect was this catastrophic up here, what would happen if I lost control in the deeper floors while we weren''t being supervised? "No." I said, resolutely. "I... Don''t get me wrong. I appreciate all you guys being here with me, but I think any more would put us in danger." ''Some more than others.'' "I don''t think it would smart to keep going. Not until we have adult supervision in case something goes completely off the rails." Julian was about to say something, when his eyes drifted over to a point above my head. I stood up, looking back to see where he was looking at. Then I blanched. There, next to the staircase leading to the surface, was coach Russell. A predatory grin plastered on his face. Chapter 26: The Best Pupil. The path to the fourth floor was wider than any of those that came before. The stony steps becoming stout ridges that could be separated by a few inches or a few meters at a time. Some of them had coral growths attached to them. Sharp, cutting edges of ruby reds and royal purples mixed with bright greens and yellows. Their outer layers glistening with wet, sticky mucous that could be mistaken for morning dew up in the surface. That shiny concoction reflected what little light rained down from the crystals above us. Making the unnatural reef glow like hundred clustered diamonds as they twinkled and sparkled. I had found it all stunningly beautiful when I had first descended into these depths. Every puddle and outcrop making me feel as though I were an astronaut exploring an alien landscape. Seeing things that no man was meant to see and stepping through vistas no human eyes had taken in before. My heart had been pounding in excitement. The whole experience reminding me that, as horrible as magic could be, it also held wonders beyond normal comprehension. But those had been the idle, confused musings of a level 0. Someone who could only see with their eyes and hear with their ears. The current me was not quite to foolish. I could feel the coral now. Sensing its very presence engulfing the floor at large and pulsating like the heart of some malevolent leviathan. Descending these steps was no longer an adventure. Now, it was more akin to willingly walking into the jaws of death. Into the hungry maw of something too large and too ancient to care whether I lived or died. ''It''s like the forest I made.'' I realized with a start. ''It is a whole host of different lifeforms coming together. Both more and less than the sum of their parts.'' Only, this wasn''t like my creations at all. This amalgamation held no affection for me. No spirit of kinship bound us together. To this biome, I was food. A morsel so small that it could pass between its sharpened fangs without arousing suspicion. Perhaps not even that. My hand went to my stomach then. My body trying to still the panic my magic was causing. And it was my magic. None of the others looked particularly disturbed. Least of all coach Russell. "How are you liking the suit Cecil?" I paused to swallow my mounting dread before answering him. The others keeping their silence as we moved deeper into the spiraling tunnel. "It''s... certainly an improvement coach." I managed after a few seconds. "I''m very grateful." That much, at least, was true. The not-quite-a-wetsuit was tight. Too tight in some areas for my comfort. Yet, it covered me from the neck down and remained flexible enough to allow unhindered movements while still offering an extra layer of protection. More importantly, it transformed when I did. To a point, at least. It hadn''t ripped when I had grown bony ridges on the second floor. Nor when I grew spines from my back and forearms on the third. Instead, it merely mended itself. Turning from a solid piece of fabric into a gelatinous liquid resembling half-melted tub of mint ice-cream, before congealing itself back together in the shape it had originally had. "I''m glad you like it." Coach Russel said casually. "Because you''re gonna be wearing thing like it from now on. At least, you''ll be doing that if you value your modesty. Trust me, that''s the right way to go about these things. Marco''s suit is just like that one. Well, it''s similar, at least. It only has to grow, but it has to do that very, very well and very, very quickly. The point is, you need the right tool for the right job. After all, you wouldn''t go around a forest in heels would you? Why, that''s how you end up in a bikini, being chased around the lake house by a masked maniac with a machete or a chainsaw or a chainsaw made up of machetes." His kids looked like they wanted to ask him what exactly he was on about, but all they managed were strangled gasps. ''I''m pretty sure that qualifies as abuse.'' I thought to myself. Though, to my shame, I didn''t have the courage to say it out loud. That had been their mistake and I wasn''t looking for a hug. Mending bones might be easy for me right now, but it certainly wasn''t any fun. "Yes coach." I said instead. Making sure to keep my tone as meek as humanly possible. "Good lad. I''ll introduce you to Sheri after we''re done here. Or tomorrow, if we run late. The stuff Sava sells is only for casual wear. The kind of thing you need to be comfortable around the house. It''s nice, but it''ll rip the second you use any kind of body modification spell. Or when a monster gets past your armor. That trash might have been enough for a level 0, since you couldn''t handle anything heavier, but you''ll have to get the plates or the scales woven into your battle-suits from now on. What you need is custom-made magic outfits. Tailored especially to you. I bought you a dozen or so because I figured we might need them for training. The rest are back in the car. Of course, there''s no accounting for taste. If you don''t like them, well that''s fine. You can order your own from Sheri when we get topside. I''ll even pay for the next dozen, if you''d like. It''s the least I could do after you''ve been such an amazing student." "Have I really been so amazing?" I asked like an imbecile. His jovial attitude making me momentarily forget that this jerk was an actual, literal sadistic psychopath. The kind who would absolutely be chasing people around a lake house in their spare time. "Oh Cecil!" Coach Russell intoned while wagging his finger. "Of course you are! Why, half the people I''ve trained broke down in tears after enduring a third of what I put you through! I pushed you to the limits of your body time and time again and like a model Olympian, you smiled and asked for more! I don''t know that I could have had a better pupil! At least, you''re certainly better than these two!" This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. He brought up the arm hugging his teenaged children. They both looked utterly, incomprehensibly terrified. Of their father, yes. But, for some reason, their eyes were filled with fear when they saw me as well. "Not only that...." Coach Russell continued. "You''re also a dammed genius! At least, where training is concerned. Just dumb enough to go off and train on your own, while still being smart enough to know when you needed supervision! Truly, Cecil. I cannot begin to tell you how proud I am that you made that decision." Coach Russell bellowed happily. No doubt referencing my calls for supervision back on the first. His right hand mussing up my hair while his left arm held his kids in a vicious chokehold. The others walked in silence after us. Filing down the stairs whilst trying not to notice the half-strangled pleas of Julian and Fernanda. Their poor poor hands clawed at coach Russell''s biceps even now, but he either didn''t notice or didn''t care. His biceps leaving them just enough room that they could breathe, without making it comfortable for them to do so. "I mean, you are only 14 after all, but for someone of your age to be so gosh-darned smart. To recognize how much safer and quicker this training regiment would be if you had an adult supervising it. After just one incident. Why, it almost brings a tear to this old man''s eyes." Then the allowed some of his magic to leak out. A brief glimpse of murderous intent shocking me to my core and disrupting the natural recovery of my reserves while I was still reeling from the previous bout of exhaustion. ''Holy shit! It actually pushed back the dread I felt from the coral!'' And the coral were many and ever present. While Coach Russell was merely another man. A single being, stronger and more terrible than an entire floor. It was almost enough to make me retch. "Granted, it would have been preferable if you had made that decision BEFORE you descended into the Dungeon, but whatever I guess. You''re young, newly inducted into magic and newly endowed with powers most of us would envy. It is perfectly understandable." He laughed his usual booming laugh, though I could see that there wasn''t that much mirth in it. No. Coach Russell was pissed, and he wanted all of us to know it. Wanted us to remember this moment. Some, more so than others. Case in point, he gave his bicep another flex. Julian and Fernanda started turning purple. "Now these two. Heh. They''re hopeless. Didn''t even try to talk you out of going. Despite me drilling them all their lives to value safety. To be more like Homer. And after I spent so much time explaining that you were my new favorite pupil and how they should try and become friends with you. To guide you on the right path and help you develop those stat points quickly and efficiently. After all, they have had a lifetime to learn the ins and outs of most magics known to humanity, while you''ve had just over a month to serve as a crash course. They don''t study as hard as they should, but the point still stands." He released some of the tension on his arm. Allowing both of them to catch another breath. "That''s what we were doing!" Fernanda complained. "Yeah! We were literally teaching him and giving him advice when you showed up!" Julian added. "Tut tut, my little pups. Lying will make your nose grow so big that birds will nest on it." Coach Russell chided. "I was there from the beginning. Trailing after you just out of sight. Not only did you not go over the proper techniques for managing one''s magic over a series of targets, but you also didn''t immediately step in after Cecil started drifting off to dreamland. I mean, I didn''t act because I knew he''d be alright, but you''ve never met the other guys with [Plant] cores that I''m friends with. You had no way of knowing about the specifics. As such, you should have known to start small. Like the rules say. Like all your teachers always say. That way, any mistakes that arose could be managed." He whistled a congratulatory tune to himself. "Besides that, you, Fernanda, went ahead and started making fun of poor Cecil for a wardrobe malfunction. Now, where in the rules of Dungeon etiquette does it say that you''re supposed to make fun of your teammates? Where does it say that its a good idea?" Fernanda opted to take another gulp of air instead of answering. "That''s right dear daughter. Nowhere. Because we human beings are supposed to play nice with each other if we want to have any hope of surviving the coming apocalypse. Bullying someone a little here and there might feel good in the short term, but it will result in burned bridges." He let the two go and turned his attention to Elsie in the back. "You of all people should know that, Miss Robertson. I know Carlyle had a conversation with you recently as well. I also know that you''re one of the brightest kids in your generation. You, of all people, should know that the rules and general guidelines are there for a reason." I had to say something at that point. "You''re always skirting the rules though! You''re skirting the rules even now!" He barked out a more genuine laugh then, though the irritation was still visible just beneath the surface. His heavy steps thundering down the staircase with such force that all the weaker monsters at the bottom had taken the hint and ran for the hills. "True! But I have enough experience and wisdom to know when to bend the rules for the greater good. Like how I designed your training regiment to be a wee bit more taxing than those of the other normal students I''ve had over the years. I''m also wily enough to know which rules can be bent, which ones can be broken and which ones should never be broken. Case in point, I took you and some of your friends down to a deeper floor earlier in the week. I did that because I was there and I was more than strong and fast enough to kill every monster on that floor before any of them could say ''cheese''. If things had gotten truly dangerous at any moment, I would have retrieved you at once. Case in point, I did retrieve you at once. Remember?" That was true enough, though it felt like a lie when he said it. "But enough about that. Why don''t you look at your Analyzer and tell me how much stronger that little blast of [Life] magic made you?" I did as he asked. Figuring that it would be best to avoid antagonizing him further.
Name: Cecil Fowler
Core: [Life] (7th Stage) / Gains skills from: [Adaptation] / [Constitution] / [Healing] / [Hunger] / [Effort] / [Animal] / [Plant]
Level: 1
Vitality: 7.2
Endurance: 6.5
Potency: 4.8
Precision: 4.4
Fortitude: 6.5
Skills: [Drain] / [Perseverance] / [Heal] / [Transform] / [Spawn]
"It, isn''t very impressive." I conceded. "On the contrary my dear boy!" Coach Russell beamed. "A few decimal points for that display is a fantastic development!" "He''s right." Ramji quipped. Seemingly finding some courage, now that coach Russell seemed to be in a slightly better mood. "Decimal points are where it''s at. Gaining whole points like you did doesn''t happen unless you''re about to grow a core or gain a new level. Even then, people don''t usually get as much as you did." "Must be nice to have a 7th stage core I guess." Fernanda followed up. "Ya just get stats left right and center with no effort." Coach Russell''s clicking tongue was enough to silence her. Indeed, looking at her then, you''d think she''d been recently whipped. "Careful now miss. My pupil here can be accused of many things, but being a layabout isn''t one of them. He''s fought and bled for every advancement." He smiled then. Once more showing rows of perfectly straight teeth. "And he''s about to fight even harder now." He said ominously. "Why do you say that?" Drew asked, jinxing it with the careless comment. "Because, my little student, I see some tracks down here that might belong to a batch of recently grown green beans." Then he gestured with his free hand. "And there, up ahead, I hear the distinct sound..." He paused for effect, though we all knew what he was about to say. "Of gunshots." Chapter 27: Magic Beans. "Okay then, who will be our first volunteer?" Coach Russell asked. His face beaming with barely suppressed giddiness. A sentiment that did not waver when none of us came forward. "What? No one wants to be the vanguard? Even with all the advantages that position gives you? Even after all those stat points just laying there on the floor, begging to be picked up?" No one was dumb enough to take the bait. Yet, coach Russell did not look like minor details such as a healthy sense of self-preservation would stop him. His big brown eyes moving over us in a manner that was shockingly reminiscent of a viper''s glare as it hovered over a bird''s nest filled with hatchlings. "Elsie." He began with enthusiasm. His bushy beard shaking as he bellowed. "Since you''re the highest levelled pupil here, the honor of leadership should naturally fall unto you! Why don''t you go out there and show the rest of us what you''re made of!" It was phrased like a question, yet his tone betrayed the fact that it was anything but. His smile being wide and manic as he stared Elsie down. There was a budding feeling in my heart then. Barely a whisper in the darkness. A small, nigh imperceptible feeling of pity. Of genuine worry, as Elsie''s auburn hair swirled around her whilst her face shot towards coach Russell''s own. Her deep blue eyes filled with a small amount of trepidation, instead of the usual impish glee they held. Then, she nodded. Striding forth with newfound confidence. She turned the corner with steady strides. Her feet gliding past the earth as she picked up speed. Her running shoes blurring as she leapt past half-a-dozen steps at a time. There was silence after that. A lack of sound that permeated into the very stones. "Excellent start. Right then." Coach Russell began. "Time to send the second wave in. Julian. Fernanda. You''re up. I want a running start as you go in. Find cover and start drawing in other monsters. Or don''t. I''ll leave it to your discretion. Take note of what monsters are heading towards you and act according to what you think the biggest threats are. Marco. Sean. You''ll follow up after them. Start transforming now so you''ll be good to go as soon as..." His voice got cut off, as the sounds of explosions rang out. The loud booms echoing across the walls. Bouncing around them over and over until the shriek drowned out all other stimuli. Soon after that, Elsie showed up again. Her armor and the pretty dress beneath blackened and charred, while soot stained her face. The ensemble was completed by the fact her auburn hair was blasted back. Sticking to her head, while becoming stiff and pointy. Not unlike certain toons on TV. "They have grenades." She said, coughing a bit more after the fact. "Grenades." Ramji repeated. "Yes." She confirmed. "The green beans have grenades?" Yuann asked. "Yes, Yuann. The green beans have grenades. And landmines. What more would you like me to tell you?" "How?" He asked. "I don''t know!" She snapped. "All I know is that the sea gargoyles are dead. Just like the frogs ad the eels and the lizardmen and most of the monsters that used to live there. The beans somehow booby trapped the dead bodies so they''d explode. Don''t ask me how." "Probably a buildup of methane in their systems, followed by some chemical reaction or a rapid change in pressure." Sean wondered aloud. Doing that thing with his fingers as he did so. "It could be some sort of post-mortem parasitism. Or it could be that the beans have somehow developed carnivorous inclinations like those of modern day Venus flytraps. Only with the added effect of them setting up further kills down the line. That kind of planning would imply higher cognition, as well as a deep awareness of themselves and how their own powers may interact with their surroundings. Perhaps it might even hint at a complex social structure between individuals or possibly a hivemind of sorts." The sinister motions of his fingers sped up as he cackled to himself. His oily, shoulder length black hair bobbing up and down. "Hmn. Yes indeed. I can see it now. Exploding velociraptors that charge to meet the enemy. Cornering prey using normal pack hunting tactics, with an extra recourse to dissuade predators or to break down entrenched formations of smarter monsters. Yes. That could work. I am learning so much. So very, very much." He licked his lips in a sinister fashion. "Soon. The grand design will be done soon. And dinosaurs will take their rightful place as the rulers of earth once more!" I turned to the others. "Seriously guys! I can''t be the only one that gets worried about this stuff!" "He''s always like that." Drew reminded me. "That doesn''t make it better!" I bit back. Coach Russell wasn''t listening though. His eyes were fixed upon the entrance to the fourth floor some ways off from our position. deeper within the spiraling coral-lined staircase. He whistled. "Not bad. Cecil. Not bad at all." This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. "What are you talking about?" I said, turning to him. "This looks like a terrible outcome. It means I couldn''t control the monsters I made." "True." He answered. Ceding the point. "But it also means that spending a good chunk of your current stamina pool creates an effect potent enough to crush resistance up to the fourth floor. That is no easy feat. Especially not at your level." His grin turned feral once more. "Which is why we have to focus on your mistakes and work to improve upon them." "Okay?" I responded. My stomach turning into knots as I started seeing where he was going with this. "Right now, that means working on your control. Including the ins and outs of your finer, less intrusive transformations." "Right? With you so far..." "So, it stands to reason that this could be an excellent opportunity to test some of your limits. Since you have a full team to watch your back. Now that miss Robertson back there has hopefully learned the lessons I wanted her to take away from this, it''s your turn to take point." He looked me up and down once again. "We''ll start by forming a layer of armor around yourself. Should be easy enough, as you''ve already done it before. Simply imagine drawing a layer of warmth from your core and then pull it over yourself like a blanket. If you''re still having trouble, take a peek at how Marco and Sean are doing it." He turned to them as well. "Boys, time to start showing off. Marco, turn big. Sean, turn into a dinosaur." Sean started licking his lips again, as Marco merely grew in silence. "Yes coach. These poor fools shall now look up to me and know the glory and the majesty of the true rulers of..." "Yeah, yeah. Get on with it." Sean shot coach Russell an insolent look, but ended up complying anyway. His fingers lengthened into sharp talons as a layer of emerald scales erupted across his skin. At the same time, his teeth burst from his mouth. Growing sharper and sharper by the second, even as Sean himself kept growing in size. Not as quickly as Marco had moments earlier, but the effect was still astounding to behold. When the change ended, Sean stood some three meters tall. Where Marco stood four and a half meters in height. The latter was undoubtedly bigger and stronger looking all around, yet there was something about Sean that was more ferocious. More primal. As if he were a saltwater crocodile waiting patiently for some poor critter to step into his waters. ''Or a serpent coiled to strike.'' I thought to myself. ''I don''t care what the others say. This guy means business. I feel that same hunger about him. That same urge to kill the bears and gorillas had had.'' Indeed, if I hadn''t known better, I might have confused him for a Boss monster. "Well Cecil? What exactly are you waiting for?" "I''m on it. Coach." I replied on instinct. Realizing then that I had been staring. My own transformation felt rather, bland by comparison. I felt myself growing more exhausted. Weakening my reserves even further, though I hadn''t yet recovered from the earlier burst of magic. Still, that ended up helping. I could feel the warmth a bit more clearly as it left my core. Guiding it more easily now that it was a somewhat turbulent stream and not a furious river buffeting against its own borders and threatening to overflow into a deluge. I felt the magic enveloping me and enlarging my arms, my shoulders, my back, my hips and my legs. Boney plates manifesting as my new suit stretched against the sudden changes. When it was done, I stood at roughly 2 and a half meters. Still shy of what Sean had accomplished. Yet I could not find anything to complain about. Unlike the earlier exertion of power, I felt, like myself. Fully in control, despite the presence of the hunger and the urges that came with it. Coach Russell looked me up and down, before nodding with smug satisfaction. "Right then, what are you all waiting for? A pep talk? Go kill some monsters!" Marco merely nodded and started making his way down the spiral staircase. His steps making the stone steps shake and quake as he passed. In contrast, Sean moved quietly, despite his size. Moving with a callous grace as he clawed his way across the stone wall. Brushing past Marco and rushing towards the archway. ''Forget dinosaurs. He''s more like a gecko. A gigantic, hulking gecko. Yeah. Never mind. He might actually be scarier this way.'' I followed them closely, with my ears picking up Ramji, Drew, Emma, Julian, Fernanda, Yuann and Elsie coming in after me. I... I honestly don''t know what I had been expecting down there, but the scene I saw blew whatever preconceived notions I might have had out of the water. An apt description, since, unlike the last time I was down here, there was no water. The lake, which had been a staple of the fourth floor since the first time I had descended, was gone. In its place was a pit with two dozen thick green roots coming out of them. The structures flexing and churning as if they were human arteries pumping blood across a body. Connected to those roots, were collections of bipedal moving plants. With strange, ear-like growths instead of eyes and bodies that looked as if they were straw-filled dolls that somehow gained sentience. Only the clothes were outer layers of thickened plant matter interposed with patches of solid bark. Yet another odd feature, was the disfigured right arm they all shared. The limb looking more like a series of balloons attached to tubes than anything else. Those limbs and indeed, all of their bodies flinched as soon as we got close. Their ear-like growths swaying back and forth in silence as if tasting the air. I stayed perfectly still. Admiring them and the way they coordinated with each other, despite the hunger I could recognize within them. ''They aren''t like the bear or the gorillas at all.'' I realized. ''They are, more aware. Of themselves. Of their surroundings. Of me.'' Sure enough, I felt a sense of connection with them. My own magic exiting my body in thin, ethereal strings until they brushed against their own bodies. There was another, deeper pang of recognition and I confirmed that they, despite their inherent bloodlust, saw me as a parent. As a guardian, of sorts. I was already making my way towards them, when I felt Ramji and Drew grabbing me by the shoulder. Marco''s oversized hand cutting off my means of approach while his other hand pointed downwards. Only then did I truly see the aftereffects of the beans'' invasion. The bodies. The hundreds, the thousands of bodies. Green sprouts erupting from open, dried up wounds covering their beings. Innumerable eyes staring upwards. Unblinking. Into the abyss. "Holy cow Cecil." Ramji began. "This is freaking terrifying." "Oh yeah." Drew agreed. "Total horror movie material." Julian walked in front of us. Carefully taking note of where he was stepping. He too took a gander a the spectacle and grimaced. "Well, at least it''s strong, as far as powers go." "You guys are a bunch of sissies." Emma protested from the side. "So what if the monster died from being shot or from being burned alive? They''re dead aren''t they? They''d be just as dead if you or I got to them first so it doesn''t make sense to be that surprised." "I don''t want to hear anything from the pyromaniac." Julian snapped. "You wouldn''t know disturbing if it ran you over with a truck. You''re scarier than half the monsters in this forsaken place." Fernanda backed up her brother as Yuann tried to break them up. To my shame, I too had my attention stolen by the verbal lashings. To the point where I didn''t notice Sean stepping closer and closer to the main mass of greenery anchored to the pit where the lake had been. Not until I heard his otherwise silent claws stepping on a half-buried corpse. From there, the peace was shattered as the air came alive... With explosions, and shotgun-like bursts of fire. Chapter 28: Peashooters. The first thing I noticed, were the tremors coming up from below. Faint impulses of familiar magic that found their way into both the beans and my own body at roughly the same time. It carried whispers of distant impressions. Rage and indignation in equal measure. Emotions that were far too similar to what normal humans might have felt, if their homes were being encroached upon. Appropriately, their reactions were very human too. Fueled by the kind of blinding fury that people would feel if their homes were suddenly invaded. Hundreds of bean-men standing at attention within half a heartbeat and forming firing squads before I had a chance to warn the others. The excitement, the battle lust, burned its way through my mind. Racing down my spine and towards all of my limbs. I could feel everything they felt and everything they meant to do in slow motion. I could see down the makeshift sights in their gun-arms. I could sense the formation of hardened seeds within the organs that passed for chambers. My eyes twitching as I endured the tensing of their muscles and the intake of air as pressure mounted inside the tubes. It was as if I, or hundreds of different versions of myself, were about to open fire. And fire they did. The sounds came in hard and fast from all kinds of directions. Disorienting me and all my friends and teammates as the echoes bounced off the walls and the stony floor at the same time. The wet, pulping sounds of sliced flesh and broken bone coming in just behind the gunshots. Whatever else might be said of Marco or Sean, no one could deny the fact that they were durable. I mean, anyone else might have been turned into bloody ribbons as hundreds of biological machine guns and shotguns opened fire on them. But Marco and Sean.... Well. At least they survived the first volley. As for the others, Yuann managed to shield them by erecting a barrier around himself. His magic slowing down the few errant projectiles that slipped past the two giants. So that the seeds-turned-bullets began gently floating through the area affected by his [Time] core. Even then, it was hard not to panic. Despite knowing full well that none of the attacks had been aimed at me. After all, if Marco and Sean were in such a sorry state after one volley, it was easy to imagine what would happen to the rest of my team if they were hit. Something they all realized too, given their reactions to the second volley. "Run!" Ramji shouted. Already taking his own advice and making for the staircase. "Wait!" I called after him. "At least use your magic on them!" "I already did! Why do you think the snipers aren''t hitting their marks!?" That took me by surprise. "What snipers!?" A boulder exploded next to Emma''s head. Leading her to tuck and roll before unleashing a torrent of fire in the opposite direction. "Oh." I said absentmindedly. Squinting my eyes until I could barely make out a few green vines sticking out from the cracks in the ceiling. ''How? I didn''t even feel them there.'' The surprise also came with a sobering realization. Not only was I not in control here, but I couldn''t even accurately predict where all the mutated green beans were. "Dude! Start running!" Drew yelped. Her own magic flowing on the humid air to take hold of the firing squads. The effect was immediate, as the next few volleys went everywhere and nowhere. Bio-rounds embedding themselves in the walls and floor around us as her magic elicited a supernatural drunkenness in all the opponents. Elsie added her magic to the fray as well. Sending shockwaves of psionic energy out from her core and leading many bean-men to fall prone as they writhed in agony. Their primitive nervous systems struggling to deal with the equivalent of an induced seizure or three hitting at the same time. The effect seemed to be compounded further on those already under the influence of Ramji and Drew''s respective spells, which did much and more to stem the flow of bullets flying our way. Julian and Fernanda took the chance to grab the fallen and made a hasty retreat with Marco and Sean in tow. I was running too. Taking note of how the spots that had been struck were writhing and breaking apart. The rounds growing and expanding after finding their final resting place. For a brief second, I imagined what a living target would be feeling if they happened to be hit. Then, I began hoping that I never had to find out. Emma and I were the last to dash into the archway and up the stairs. Her blonde hair swirling as she threw a compressed orb of magic. The sphere flying out like a rocket, lighting up the darkened chamber as it sliced its way through the air. Until it found one of the tendrils sticking out of the pit. After that, there was a rush of steaming air that blasted me a few meters forward. My eyes closing on reflex to shield themselves from the resplendent flare of thermal energy. ''I guess I know what the [Sun] core does now.'' I considered. My mind trying to wrestle with the day''s events even as my feet kept climbing the wet, slippery staircase. Once we had ascended, my eyes found coach Russell. His body resting against the left wall as he sat with his feet up. "Well, someone''s here early." He chuckled. "I guess that didn''t go your way?" Sean let out a sound that might have been a groan, but otherwise said nothing. Marco didn''t seem to be in the mood to talk either. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Instead, Elsie rose up to the challenge. Her blue eyes now shining like sapphires as they reflected what little light there was up here. "Coach Russell. I am making a final decision as the highest levelled person among my peers. I have judged that the environment on the fourth floor is not conductive to learning right now and that delving down there again will yield no significant results. I have come to this conclusion for three reasons. First, the monsters Cecil made are far more dangerous than the regular monsters of the fourth. In fact, I would even go so far as to claim they are the equal of monsters beyond the tenth floor, given how well they can coordinate and how entrenched they have become in the little time they''ve been alive. Second, the very ground and the ceiling are dotted with booby-traps. While they can serve as an adequate learning tool on occasion, running up against them while being shot at won''t lead us to learning or to improving. It''ll only make us get hurt over and over again. Inflicting needless harm for not enough gains. Thirdly, the setting of the fourth floor right now stands in violation of the rules of war, as the green beans are firing Dum Dum rounds. Furthermore, I suspect they''re also adapting other means of fighting, such as barbed wire and chemical weapons. As such, they are not conductive to a proper training environment as they cause unnecessary harm, while not being representative of monsters we will be facing when the floodgates of magic finally burst and monsters spawn in the world at large." That, was a lot to take in at once. But a few points still stuck out to me above all the others. "What do you mean they''re violating the rules of war?" I asked softly. Knowing full well that I wouldn''t like the answer. Elsie turned to me. Her usual jovial expression nowhere to be seen. "I mean exactly what I said. Your monsters are currently committing war crimes. As in, more than one. Dum Dum rounds, or any kind of bullet or ammunition that expands after making contact with their targets, are forbidden in modern wars. It is considered inhumane to use them, as they inflict disproportionate harm whilst not really aiding in any strategic objectives." She paused, and I could almost see the gears turning in her head as she struggled to find the right words. "When they were first developed, Dum Dum rounds were meant to help colonial powers suppress native uprisings. Since normal ammo tended to penetrate the body one way and exit the other. It just didn''t have the necessary stopping power to kill a charging man armed with a spear or a machete or what have you. Not on the spot, anyway. The rebelling forces would still die, but not before crippling or killing the colonial infantry they were charging at. Dum Dum rounds were fundamentally different, in that they were designed to remain in the body after the original shot penetrated. Expanding rapidly to lodge themselves in bones or other organs. As such, they created much larger wounds and internal injuries on the target, while also having much more stopping power. They were banned for that very reason. Because things got very ugly when colonial powers started using them against each other. Doctors and military personnel advocated against their use. Calling them barbaric. Given the time period in which this all happened, that says a lot." She hesitated once more. Turning her head to glance down at the archway that marked the entrance to the fourth floor and the killing floor it had become. "Since your beans are firing living ammunition that starts growing and turning into landmines once they hit a target, I''m counting that as a war crime. As for the barbed wire... well. I don''t know what to tell you. The path to the fifth was blocked by a wall of thorns. With another two firing lines dug in beyond them and snipers on the ceiling. I think the beans are spreading and they aren''t looking for interlopers to come wandering in. Lastly, some of those mines Sean triggered didn''t explode. Instead, I saw them hissing, as some kind of invisible gas left them. I think it could be some kind of neurotoxin. Which is, again, a war crime." She paused then. Turning to face Marco and Sean as they lay on the steps. Their bodies shrinking little by little as they struggle to remain conscious. "Speaking of which, you might want to start healing them. Those wounds look really, really bad." I didn''t need to be told twice. My fingers soon finding purchase on their bodies as my magic began to flow into them. Sure enough, Elsie was right on all counts. The wounds they had suffered were indeed wriggling. Flesh parting as hardened seeds broke open inside of them. Small vines turning into roots after attaching themselves to their bones and other important organs. Both wailed as I healed them, though, in a welcome surprise, the plants stopped their assaults after they noticed my magic at work. Disentangling themselves from the places where they had found purchase and leaping out onto the stony steps below. Julian and Fernanda wasted no time in crushing them, as Ramji and Yuann went over to the side to throw up. Coach Russell had been silent for some time now. His eyes tracking me as I healed all the injuries my team members had. "Cecil." He began after another minute. "Yes, coach Russell?" "Did any of the bean soldiers attack you?" "No, coach Russell. They only attacked the others. They started when Sean stepped on one of the dead bodies. I... It all happened too fast and I lost track of my connection to them as soon as the fighting broke out." Coach Russell nodded. His face devoid of its usual joviality. "I see." He spoke after a few more seconds. "In that case, I will leave this to your discretion." He brought up a hand. "Two choices lay before us now. Option one. I go down there and destroy whatever creatures are still entrenched and I don''t stop until after I''ve run out of monsters to kill. You guys then get to practice regular monster slaying on the deeper floors under my direct supervision." He paused once more. His eyes softening somewhat. "This is the safe and responsible option. I honestly wouldn''t blame you one bit for taking it. After all, you''ve already made enough progress for one day and you haven''t even had your core for a week at this point. Taking things easy and slowly would be completely understandable. There''s no need to rush, now that we''ve got the main basis for the food project under wraps with the watermelons and... to a lesser extent, the apples and mangoes." He began moving towards me then. Descending a few steps as I finished healing Marco and Sean. "Meanwhile, option two involves pushing yourself further, now that you have some momentum. In essence, it involves you and I going down there by ourselves while Elsie and my kids watch over the rest of the group. They shouldn''t have any trouble, since she is level 3 and they are both at the peak of level 2. After we go back to the fourth, you will do your best to communicate with the beans, while I stand guard. If anything looks like its going wrong, I will pull you out faster than you could blink and then, I''ll go back by myself to destroy all the beans I can find. I promise that, under no circumstances, will I let any real harm come to you, should you fail to control them." He took a deep, steadying breath. For that single, solitary moment, coach Russell stopped looking like a deranged serial killer. Instead, looking like someone who truly, genuinely cared. "I''m not going to lie to you Cecil. A lot of people wouldn''t pick the second option. Indeed, a lot of people wouldn''t even consider it and they would be rather upset at me for bringing it up in the first place. However, I wouldn''t be discussing this with you if I didn''t think there was something to be gained. Each core has its strengths and weaknesses and the sad reality is that we''re working with limited information here. Especially since a lot of the info Carlyle had is now unreliable as people train properly and get stronger cores. This scenario, where a single blast of magic at level 1 overturns several floors... well. It isn''t unheard of, but the few cores that could pull it off are not cores we tolerate around these parts. We could use the info. And the added strength this kind of magic brings. You could do a lot of good if you got this power under control and you could progress much faster if you got it under control now, rather than later." He heaved a sigh. In a manner that left me wondering is this wasn''t some impostor that was pretending to be coach Russell. "But I can''t force you to go down there in good conscience. Not when you''ve already done so much. So, as I said. The decision is yours to make." Chapter 29: Terraforming. ''I must be crazy.'' I thought to myself. ''All that training and all that fighting against Ripper and Ghouls and Gargoyles and all the other monsters down here have made me go insane. Why else would I be going back to the kill zone? I mean, sure. They didn''t shoot my dumb ass dead the first time, but who''s to say I didn''t get lucky? Who''s to say the beans won''t decide that I''m not good enough to tell them what to do? Why did I agree to take this risk?'' ''Because you are weak.'' A little voice whispered in my ear. ''You are weak and feeble and slow. All the other teens your age are strong enough to kill you. All of them had a massive head start. Worse, most of them are bullies. They will not protect you or your family if anything bad happens. They won''t be there for uncle Uter or aunt Cheryl or Eva.'' The whispers were sordid and vile. But that didn''t make their words any less true. As much as I had grown accustomed to life her in Dunstonberry, I couldn''t shy away from the fact that my family was basically being kept hostage. And if Mr. Robertson was willing to basically burn down an entire Alaskan township, he''d probably have no qualms in doing away with us if he thought we were too much trouble. Granted, I was pretty sure I was too useful to kill or imprison right now, but there was no guarantee that our arrangement would save the rest of my family if Uncle Uter did anything stupid. The truth was, we couldn''t leave, and the only people we could truly count on were ourselves. I felt a pang of guilt at that. Thinking back to my friends. To Marco and Ramji and Drew. I did like them and I did respect them. But I couldn''t say if they would be on my side, should anything happen. ''Probably not.'' I reasoned. ''They have their own families to think about. Moreover, they grew up with this being normal. I can''t expect them to drop everything after a month of knowing me. If it came down to it, they might try and stop me from leaving. Thinking that they''re doing me and my family a favor.'' It was the truth. No matter how bitter it tasted. This whole arrangement with Mr. Robertson might guarantee some level of safety. For now, at least. But then again, it might not. I simply didn''t know him well enough to make a judgement on whether he would stick to his word or stab me and my family in the back when it suited him. The only way to know for sure that we would be safe, was if I could physically guarantee my family''s safety. I needed to become strong enough that, even after the coming apocalypse, nothing could hurt me and mine. ''I hate this.'' I thought suddenly. ''I hate thinking like this. Being all paranoid and distrustful. It feels wrong. It feels like I''m somehow betraying my friends'' trust in me.'' I shook my head to dispel those thoughts and descended further down the spiraling steps. Drinking in the magic as I stepped back onto the now-changed fourth floor. "It... tastes different." I noted. "From the lingering magic on the stairs, I mean. I hadn''t stopped to notice it before." "That''s not good." Coach Russell commented. "It means that whatever changes your minions are causing are having an impact on the ambient magic of the Dungeon. Which really should not be possible. Certainly not at your level." He sighed. "Anyway, forget about that for now and focus on..." A hail of gunfire cut him off. Bullet-like seeds ripping his civilian shirt apart in mere fractions of a second. For a moment, I feared that they might actually hurt him. But then I remembered who I was dealing with and felt stupid for even considering the possibility. Indeed, coach Russell looked nonplussed. His face showing hints of mild bemusement, rather than pain. ''Holy cow. They''re hitting his face head-on and they''re not even damaging his beard. Actually, forget about that. They''re not even damaging his eyes! How high are his stats!?'' Coach Russell looked at me. Almost as if he could read my mind the way Elsie had been able to. He gave me a sincere smile. "Don''t worry Cecil. Like I keep telling you. You''re my favorite pupil by far. You might think that title comes easily, but I can assure you it doesn''t. You have the natural talent and the willpower to not relax your efforts, even when the pain is weighing you down. Even when the temptation to stop should have been overwhelming. You''ll get to my level eventually. In fact, I have a feeling you might even surpass my current bottleneck with ease. Just keep moving forward with steady steps and you''ll find yourself there before you know it." He gave me a thumbs up. Even as the biological bullets kept striking his bare chest and face. "Now then, I couldn''t help but notice that all the bullets are coming towards me and none are coming towards you. That''s a good thing. I''ll just stand here as you work. Take your time and bring them under your control." "Yes, coach Russell." I replied. Before letting loose a barely audible, "Thank you."
Connecting my magic to the network of living flora that surrounded us was easy. Bending them to my will, was hard. So much so that we spent a good amount of time trying to get the beans to stop firing at coach Russell. I would feel my thoughts drifting away as I concentrated. My senses and their impressions melting into the plant-matter strewn all about the cave. Bloody nerves losing themselves into seeds and their fertilizing corpses with every new breath I took. When a snapping sensation would take me out of the experience. My all too familiar human senses coming back into focus as the deeper sections of the mutated green beans remained a mystery. Some parts of us were still connected after every attempt. But none of them cared to listen to anything I had to say. Not at first anyway. The state of affairs slowly improved after each new connection. My mind melding and cutting a little bit further into the ephemeral mental mass of the collective. Eliciting a twitch here and a brief pause there. It was hard and it was slow going and endlessly frustrating. Yet, there was also a feeling of conquest that came with it all. A feeling of satisfaction at solving a complex puzzle in front of me or swaying the opinions of a large group of people. I didn''t even notice how fast time seemed to be going. My full attention dipping back into the task every time I was made to surface. It might have been mere minutes, or it might have been hours for all I knew. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it ''Or days. Weeks and months. Hard to say. There is such an alien conception of time here in the minds and hearts of the beans. They have some of my memories. Of how life on the outside works. Of how guns and strategy work from my time playing Psychic Rampart 2. Of how I am under duress and trapped her with my family. They know that Elsie harasses me and that coach Russell forced me to break myself training, though they apparently cannot process the complex feelings of gratitude I have for him. They have some inherent instincts that plants should not have and they recognize that they come from me. Yet they too share that healthy suspicion I have within me. The same one I have for the others. They do not fully know whether to trust me, despite not wanting to hurt me. How very, human of them.'' Each new stab drew me closer to the center. Until they finally started somewhat accepting me as the nexus of their operation. On this floor, at least. "Stubborn little buggers aren''t they?" He commented after the artillery finally died down. "You''d think they''d have given up after ten minutes or so. Or at least changed up their tactics after realizing their current ones weren''t working." "I doubt the thought even occurred to them." I told him bluntly. "This whole ordeal might have been about calculated risks and training for us, but in their minds, it was always a fight for survival." He shrugged. "I guess that''s fair." His eyes scanned the pit once more. Focusing on the now thickened tendrils that covered it. "The water isn''t coming back." "No. I isn''t." I agreed. "That''s worrisome." He said. Actually managing to sound somewhat worried. "The Dungeon doesn''t work on the usual rules of objective reality. It is a point of convergence, where magic forces gather in high concentrations. Each floor is its own unique biome because different kinds of magic cores tend to spawn in certain areas. That means that, as much as you irrigate the second floor, it will always be a dessert. The same thing should have been true here. This lake has been drained half a hundred times over the course of my life. Either by some concentrated training with the [Sun] core or with some other core that either evaporated or otherwise moved the water. Yet, the lake never stayed drained for long. Maybe a couple of minutes at most." "Maybe the vines are draining the water faster than it can regenerate?" I offered. My mind still trying to reach the deeper connections of this, hivemind-like collective. Coach Russell shook his head ruefully. "No, that wouldn''t make sense either. The waters always used to push back harder and harder the longer the lakebed stayed dry. To the point where the entire floor would sometimes flood if someone with a [Sun] core kept it dry for more than five minutes at a time. The magic simply flows in a way that is attuned to water here. To the magical concept of water, I mean. Including notions of flexibility and inevitability and mystery. It... it''s weird. I can''t explain it without the textbook in front of me. Never been one for categorizing and documenting things like Carlyle." He paused to rub his eyes, in a motion that almost made me forget how utterly inhuman this person was. "The point is, it, the floor naturally knows no other way to manifest on this floor. Keeping these waters at bay should have been like fighting against the ocean with your bare hands." He nodded to himself. "No. I think these plants of yours are affecting the Dungeon on a deeper level than either of us realized." Well, I wasn''t going to disagree with him on that at least. My own magic reserves were running dangerously low by this point. My muscles relaxing and losing their tension in spite of myself. More than once, I found my eyelids closing on their own. My body drifting off in search of a few hours of quiet rest. I would catch myself most of the time. Usually before losing consciousness entirely. Though coach Russell did have to kick me awake once or twice. While it meant I had more opportunities to get a feel for the finer, more delicate movements of magic from myself to the beans and from each bean to the collective as a whole; it also meant that there was a constant stream of details that were slipping through my fingers. Some mysteries that remained obscure. Regardless, I managed to get to a point where the beans would at least consider following my orders. Sometimes. If they weren''t too busy doing something else. "I think I got it." I said. Wincing with the effort to remain upright. "Okay, can you get them to leave the lake alone?" I tried to flex my will on the collective. "They don''t feel like it." I answered with a sigh and an exhausted heave. Coach Russell arched an eyebrow. "Okay, maybe I misspoke." I admitted. "Maybe I can''t so much control them as I can gently dissuade them from doing things I don''t like." He huffed in annoyance. "I see now. So that''s the spot." "The spot?" I asked in confusion. "Yeah. The spot we need to work on. Regarding your abilities. It seems they have quite a kick to them, but that you''re having problems controlling the way your magic affects living things, as well their actions after they''ve mutated. Again, this is... unusual. At least for cores with somewhat similar powers. For example, when Sean forces a monster or living creatures to undergo a Dino-transformation, he has a lot of influence over them. Though, granted, he can only affect four or five at a time. So, it is a little different. I guess we''ll have to check your progress after getting some more stats under your belt." He paused once more. "Speaking of which, care to show me your Analyzer again?" I did so. Turning my wrist so that both of us could see the screen.
Name: Cecil Fowler
Core: [Life] (7th Stage) / Gains skills from: [Adaptation] / [Constitution] / [Healing] / [Hunger] / [Effort] / [Animal] / [Plant]
Level: 1
Vitality: 7.3
Endurance: 6.7
Potency: 4.8
Precision: 4.9
Fortitude: 6.5
Skills: [Drain] / [Perseverance] / [Heal] / [Transform] / [Spawn] / [Terraform] / [Over-Mind]
My eyebrows rose at the changes. My jaw dropping to the floor as I read and re-read the numbers and words on the screen. Vitality and Endurance had both gone up, though not as much as Precision. It had jumped up from mid-4, to almost 5 in the brief time I was experimenting with the beans. Moreover, there were the new Skills to consider. [Terraform] and [Over-Mind]. "Why?" I asked. "How? I don''t remember getting these. I didn''t notice any changes." Coach Russell snickered. "I guess this would be your first time then. Since you were asleep when your core finally formed." He gave me a slightly condescending look. "The Analyzer isn''t going to ring with bells and whistles every time you get a new Skill or stat point. All it does is monitor the flow of magic from your body and make adjustments as to what it thinks you''re using it for. It isn''t a hundred percent foolproof either, so sometimes it names new Skills in ways that don''t quite describe what they do. This time though, I think it has a pretty decent idea of what''s going on. After all, you managed to connect with these beans in ways you couldn''t do before with the monsters from Alaska, right?" "I guess." I conceded. "Yeah. I guess that''s true. But that only explains [Over-Mind]. I did not [Terraform] anything." He gave me a generous nod. "True. But your plants did and you connected with them." It was my turn to look amused. "Is that how it works? So, what? I can expect to grow gun-organs sometime soon?" "I don''t see why not." Coach Russell said seriously. "After all I''ve seen today and how versatile your ability seems, I would honestly be surprised if you couldn''t." He let out a deep sigh. "But enough about that Cecil. The final point is that you can''t control these beans to any meaningful degree. Not yet at least. Normally, after seeing this much progress in only six or seven hours, I would be tempted to let you keep going at it tomorrow. But I''m not sure these changes would be reversible if I let the beans stay here overnight. I''m going to have to kill them, after I escort you home." I shook my head. "What do you mean six or seven hours?" "I mean the time that''s gone by, of course. What? Did you think we''ve been down here for a few minutes? My kids came down with Elsie and I told them to leave and tell Carlyle and Homer what was going on. That was five hours ago. Casper came down to check on us twice. Don''t tell me you were too zoned out to notice?" I was. Indeed, I wasn''t even sure if coach Russell was making all that up or not. I... had just been so engrossed in the pulsing thoughts of the collective that, everything else had fallen by the wayside. ''Oh my goodness. What''s happening to me?'' I thought with a start. ''Am I going to start losing time like this more often?'' I looked down at my hands. Noting the way the skin had transformed into tree-like bark without my input. ''Can I really call myself human at this point? What if they affected me somehow? Like I felt myself affecting them? Where does Cecil end and the beans begin?'' My eyes fell upon the fourth floor once more. Seeing how different the landscape had become. How little of its original form remained. It was a contrast that nagged at the corners of my mind. All the way to the surface. Chapter 30: The Prospect. The sun was shining gloriously up in the sky. Standing proudly like a brilliant diamond amidst a sea of silky blues and graceful rolling clouds that decorated the heavens. So that it all came together to form an almost magical canvas of colors above our heads. At the same time, the breeze was soft and refreshing. Caressing my skin like a thousand masseuses working in tandem. The air carried the sounds and smells of the forest out in the distance. Intertwined as it was with those sensations and impressions that arose from the verdant fields and well-fertilized crops at our feet. And here I was. Losing myself in how indescribably wonderful each subsequent moment felt, now that I was surrounded by so much vibrancy. So much life in its purest, most raw form. Every breath I took felt more wonderful than the last for some reason. My lungs taking in growth and nourishment and re-birth. Each and every one of my cells screaming in joy alongside the crops I had grown. As if every new day was reason enough to throw another festival. A celebration in honor of what we had accomplished. In honor of how we had transformed this mostly-barren, rocky terrain at the edge of the woods. ''Holy cow. This must be what all those yoga gurus keep going on about when they talk about mindfulness.'' I thought to myself. A stupid grin blossoming on my face. It was weird. I should have felt discomfort. After all, I had been working for hours upon hours and days upon days ever since that fiasco with the green beans. Unable to do much outside of hard physical labor in order to get Mr. Robertson''s new pet project off the ground. I had always disliked getting dirty. Always. So, working on some rocky trails way off outside of town should have been a bad proposition. Especially since I was supposed to practice the new [Terraforming] skill by turning this lot into something useful. I felt as though I was being pushed into bad situations so that I could fail in controlled environment. So that the others could get a handle on the limits of my magic. Only, I didn''t fail and this project soon became a beacon of happiness. A source of purpose and ecstasy that I had never quite experienced before. ''Is this what uncle Uter meant when he was telling me to do something I loved? That doing what you loved never seemed like work? Was I just meant to become a farmer? Is this my calling in life?'' Somehow, that didn''t seem right. I knew it had something to do with magic. Coach Russell and Casper had both confirmed as much. They claimed that those people who created things with their magic always felt a deep connection to their craft. That this was no different. ''If that''s the case, then this was the best core I could have possibly gotten. I mean, holy cow. I feel so connected with everything in this moment. I feel so alive. So happy. Oh my goodness. I didn''t know it was possible to feel like this.'' Better yet was the knowledge that this outing served to train me further. Only in regards to my Vitality and Endurance, but still. The spike in my growth had been a wonder to behold. ''And it gets even better when I think about how long it has been. Only two weeks for this much improvement.... Come to think of it, did I ever improve that fast in the Dungeon? Well, that isn''t exactly fair. I was always the least capable on my team, and the only delve I did since getting my core resulted in that whole thing. I guess I''ll have to go down there again after they finish purging the first ten floors. I need to see if there are still more efficient ways to level, now that I have my new magic more or less under control.'' I placed another sack of potatoes on top of the truck. Noting how the wheels groaned as the load was added on top of the already prodigious pile. How the solid steel behemoth seemed to shrink as the tires burrowed themselves deeper into the ground. In the back of my mind, I imagined what the vehicle might be saying, if it were able to talk. Probably something along the lines of what dissidents said when the Stasi took them into custody. A lot of begging, if nothing else. I looked to the other three trucks present. Furrowing my brow slightly as I checked my Analyzer. ''Casper''s late. So are the rest of his family. We had a great pace going and he''s letting it all go to waste. We''ve only filled a couple hundred trucks today and it''s only noon. We can squeeze out a lot more produce. Or, we could potentially do that, if he and his came back and started teleporting the goods to their destinations. Oh well. I guess we''ll have to start piling them on the ground.'' I flexed my core and felt the magic flow through my muscles. Warm streams of blissful tranquility and quiet strength dancing their way into the earth, until new sprouts came up to greet me. Erupting and thickening and intertwining into themselves before hardening into a solid platform made up of a hard, bark-like structure. The makeshift pallet was, by itself, a wok of art. Yet another reminder of how good the open sky and fertile soil made me feel. How deeply the presence of so much undergrowth touched me. I wiggled my bare toes into the soil and let out a satisfied murmur. ''Yes, this must be the work of magic. There is no way anyone normal would feel this good doing farm work, or else, the whole world would be nothing but farms and their caretakers.'' I placed the other load I was carrying there and turned to the others. Frowning as I took in how little progress they had made. "Come on guys! What''s the holdup!?" I shouted back. "Death." Drew panted. Her hair discolored and disheveled as it clumped together into sweaty knots. Her body was shaking too. Which was very odd indeed, since she was only carrying one sack of giant potatoes on her shoulders, instead of the two that I had so happily lugged around. Hers was half the size of mine too. Weighing in at less than a ton. Well under a ton, in fact. "I think I''m dying." She wheezed. Her legs wobbling in a manner oddly reminiscent of a newborn fawn. "Quit being melodramatic." I said. "You guys are behind your quotas today. I mean, you''ve been behind for a good week now, but this is getting ridiculous." "RIDICULOUS!!!??" Ramji bellowed. Throwing his own sack into the ground. His eyes were bulging out. Red veins reflecting the soothing sunlight as some veins in his forehead throbbed. Making him look as if he were some overstuffed balloon seconds from bursting. "We''ve been working for twenty five hours straight! Twenty five hours! TWENTY FIVE HOURS! In case you missed that, that is one more hour, than there are hours in a day! A day is twenty four hours! TWENTY FOUR HOURS!" The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. "Yes Ramji. I heard you the first time." "Did you!? Did you really!? Then why in the name of everything that is good and holy, are we still working our butts off in this weather, when we could be relaxing in our hot tub!" "My hot tub." I corrected him in a soft voice. "I know it''s mine because it''s in my mansion. The mansion that I got for helping Mr. Robertson with issues like this one. Like, you know, world hunger. Now, you guys are my friends and I''m living with my family anyway, so I don''t mind you using it whenever you want. But, I hope that you would understand that the mansion came as a reward. That means that, without us doing this to stave off world hunger, there is no hot tub. There is no arcade with a dedicated VR room and all the new consoles. There is no robotic massage center." Well, technically it had been a reward for my continued assistance with those artificial Dungeons Mr. Robertson wanted to make, but they didn''t need to know that. "Besides, you make it sound as if it''s some great sacrifice or something. Your stats are higher than mine and it isn''t as if you were doing anything with your time anyway. We can''t delve until coach Homer and his crew finish de-beaning the Dungeon, so we might as well do this to train. I mean, come on! Not only are we getting stats without having to risk anything, but we''re also making a positive impact on the world! Think about how many people out there will have potatoes and watermelons and apples and mangoes on their plates thanks to us! I mean, granted, I don''t know exactly how bad the situation is on the outside, but making more food to feed the hungry has never been a bad thing! Right?" Ramji started blinking aggressively at me. His dark skin turning an odd shade of red as he stammered whilst clenching and unclenching his fingers. "You!" He began. His right eye twitching with barely suppressed rage. "You want us to stay awake all day, everyday and do this?" He waved to all the giant produce around him. "This!?" I placed one of my hands on my head. Struggling to reconcile his obvious displeasure with the joy I was feeling. I wanted to de-escalate the situation, but it was hard for me to find the right words. "Yes?" I began. "For the moment anyway. I mean, we do want to get stronger, right? Why wouldn''t we do this to make good use of our time?" Ramji started blinking even faster. Both his eyes twitching in uneven intervals as if he were about to have a stroke. "Dude. Stop." Marco said from the side. His hulking form now shrinking as he placed five more bags filled with potatoes into the pile I had started. "Ramji is right. We''ve been training non-stop this whole time. That isn''t healthy. You need to have periods of relaxation in between workout sessions. Or you''ll pull a muscle or something." I looked down at my body. Then at my Analyzer. My fingers working their way to the new patch that showed me exactly when, how and by how much the numbers rose. [Vitality: 7.3 -> 7.9 (Over two weeks.) - (Heavy physical labor. Lifting upwards of 600 Kg in constant repetition.)] [Endurance: 6.7 -> 7.7 (Over two weeks.) - (Heavy physical labor. Lifting upwards of 600 Kg in constant repetition. Frequent running while bearing heavy loads for prolonged periods of time.)] [Potency: 4.8 -> 5.1 (Over two weeks.) - (Heavy physical labor. Lifting upwards of 600 Kg in constant repetition.)] [Precision: 4.9 -> 5.2 (Over two weeks.) - (Frequent usage of skills in new ways. Frequent practice with restraining magic outflow to skills and directed meditation while training. Frequent experimentation with different doses of magical exposure with produce.)] [Fortitude: 6.5 -> 7 (Over two weeks.) - (Heavy physical labor. Lifting upwards of 600 Kg in constant repetition.)]
Name: Cecil Fowler
Core: [Life] (7th Stage) / Gains skills from: [Adaptation] / [Constitution] / [Healing] / [Hunger] / [Effort] / [Animal] / [Plant]
Level: 1
Vitality: 7.9
Endurance: 7.7
Potency: 5.1
Precision: 5.2
Fortitude: 7
Skills: [Drain] / [Perseverance] / [Heal] / [Transform] / [Spawn] / [Terraform] / [Over-Mind]
I looked at those numbers for a log, long time. Then at my friends. "Yeah. No. I think this is perfectly healthy and I''m going to keep doing it for as long as I get results." Marco finished shrinking back to his usual size before shrugging his shoulders. "You do you, I guess. I''m out of here." I scoffed at that, though, perhaps I shouldn''t have. "Come on Marco. You can''t tell me you haven''t gotten a fair share of the gains from this. Look at your Analyzer and tell me those numbers aren''t encouraging." "Oh no. They are. But it''s still too much. I mean, dude, we''re 14 years old. We can''t be doing this all day every day. There''s more to life than stats." The sheer ludicrousness of that statement hit me like a slap to the face. "Wha.... I mean... yeah but.... dude! Your parents literally dropped by this morning to brag about how proud of you they were! They were stoked about how much you were training!" "Yeah dude. Of course they were. Cause it''s me going above and beyond what''s expected. By a lot. Thing is, I don''t think I want to do that constantly. It''s stressing me out." He took a deep breath and held it in for a few seconds. When the breath came out, it was with a resigned heave that seemed to leave him even smaller than before. "Look. I''m not saying that we won''t come out to help you again. We will." Ramji shot him a look. "I will." He corrected. "But only after I''ve had a few days to myself." "I need to go home." Drew chimed in. "Just because we can stay awake doesn''t mean we should. I''m tired, Cecil. I''m exhausted and filthy and I... I just can''t. If I wanted to break myself training I''d go to coach Russell." "Oh come on." I protested. "That''s a bit too much. I''m not like coach Russell." "You are!" Ramji screamed. His hands going up above his head as he tried to shake some sense into an unseen person who was roughly my height. "You''re just like coach Russell! You seem nice and you pretend to care and then you turn out to be a freaking psychopath who breaks themselves for fun! Well I''ve had it! I''m going home!"
I kept working after that. Moving more and more sacks while my friends went home to relax. "I''m not in the wrong." I told myself. "There is a literal monster apocalypse around the corner. Of course I''d be practicing with magic as much as I could. Of course I''d be training as much as I could. Of course I''d want to be the best version of me that I could possibly be. To do anything less would be stupid. It could get me killed. Worse, it could get my family killed. Even guys like coach Russell and coach Homer, as freakishly strong as they are, still train on the regular. I''m making the right choice. Even uncle Uter agreed that I should apply myself to the farm." "That''s because he doesn''t want you going into the Dungeon." A voice spoke from the side. I turned to see coach Russell standing there. A sack on his shoulder and an impish grin on his face. "Well, someone''s been working hard." "It''s the least I could do." I told him, truthfully. "That isn''t exactly true, but I admire your enthusiasm all the same." He placed the sack into the fifth platform I had created, as the three trucks from before were still sitting prettily in place. Looking as if the weight of a single fly might snap them in two. "Casper hasn''t come by to pick them up." I told him. "I know." He answered happily. Moving away as soon as he dropped his latest sack and leaning against a nearby tree. I took his meaning and followed him. Leaning against another tree nearby. "Are we just going to sit here and do nothing?" I asked coach Russell. "Well, yeah. Not much we can do at this point." He answered. The sun''s rays making his beard glisten. The only moisture on it had come from the magical sprinklers though. I couldn''t remember a single time when the man had been tired enough or warm enough to sweat. ''Then again. It has been two weeks since I let out any sweat.'' The physical reaction simply felt too distant now. Too human. Indeed, every passing day made me forget more of what it had been like to be normal growing up. So that things like cramps or headaches or morning grogginess felt more like distant dreams instead of memories. ''It''s so strange.'' I thought to myself. ''It''s as if the old Cecil was never me. Like he was some larva. A cocoon that waited to become me. The new, more powerful, magical me. I wonder if butterflies feel like that too. I wonder if they remember what it was like to be a caterpillar munching on leaves. I wonder if they sometimes miss the feeling, or if they''re constantly enraptured by the prospect of flying.'' No one answered my questions. I was alone, with no one but coach Russell and the wind for company. Chapter 31: Produce and Prices. My eyes went to the field then. To the tens of thousands of gigantic potatoes sprouting from the ground. Waiting to be harvested. "It''s just... we went to so much trouble getting them to the point where they looked more or less normal and didn''t bite people. Only to leave them up here..." "We''re not leaving them up here Cecil. There''s a shortage of labor. We only have so many people in the town." "Magic people, with actual, literal magic powers! I saw you filling three dozen trucks in less than ten minutes yesterday!" "Yeah, and we ran out of trucks after that." Coach Russell said, his voice betraying something that might have been exhaustion in a lesser man. "Casper teleported them out and he brought new ones in. But the workers on the other side are only normal human. People who are very much not in the know. They can only work so fast. That, and Casper and his folks can only teleport so many trucks filled to bursting with food until they''re exhausted. [Space] is an excellent core, but one of its drawbacks is the massive amount of magic their skills consume. That, and there aren''t that many people who have it in the first place." I was going to say something else, but he held out a hand to stop me. "Look, Cecil. I appreciate that you''re taking this seriously. Really, I do. I don''t like the fact that five percent of the world is experiencing food riots right now, but you have to understand that we can only do so much at this stage of the operation. Anyone else would be jumping for joy with these numbers, given how many people we''re feeding." "But the food''s rotting in the ground!" "Cecil, the potatoes are growing faster than we can harvest them. Same with the watermelons and the mangoes and the apples and the bananas. I''m starting to think you might be too good at this right now. We''ve managed to keep plenty of markets stocked that would have been out of stock otherwise and we''ve kept prices affordable enough that hyperinflation has been delayed. At least in this province. But we can''t keep this pace up. There are simply too many things that need to be done all around the world in preparation for Breaking Day. Chief among them is training in the Dungeon." "I thought you didn''t want me training in the Dungeon anymore." I bit back. "No. I would never say that. I said I didn''t want you using that [Terraform] skill of yours until we figured out more about it, since the fourth was taking a long time to go back to the way it was. It still isn''t completely back to normal, in case you were wondering. I still wanted you to keep training your other, more personal skills, but your uncle..." I could practically feel the distaste in coach Russell''s voice. "Insisted that we focus on food production in order to get a decent process going and smooth out the issues we saw early on. I did protest, but Mr. Robertson agreed with him. Apparently he''s been angling to use our newfound... uh..." He made some heavy quotation marks with his fingers. "The new and improved, ''Genetically modified produce'' to leverage some lobbying power in the government. He''s angling to keep prices down despite demand. To curry political favors. I think he aims to put his son James in some post or another." I shook my head in astonishment. "There is no way we''ve made enough food to have that kind of impact." I told him bluntly. "I may be young, but I''m not stupid." ''Or at least, not too stupid. I hope.'' I was starting to have doubts as to how much I was being manipulated these days. Wondering if I was really doing the right thing or if I was merely helping to prop up a conspiracy of wackos. Coach Russell going on and on about political leverage certainly didn''t help matters either. Yet, every time I thought of leaving, I was reminded of how weak I still was. At least, compared to everyone around me. My mind kept coming back to the facts I still knew. To the reality that Carlyle Robertson, as powerful as he was, hadn''t managed to save humanity the first time around. ''Meaning there will be monsters strong enough to give him a run for his money out there. Just out in the open for anyone to stumble into.'' The idea was disquieting, to say the least. And it only became more pronounced in my brain when I thought about the things lurking in the depths of the Dungeon. On the floors where coach Russell trained himself. ''He hasn''t reached the bottom.'' I recalled with a slight shiver. ''None of them know what''s down there. Not even Mr. Robertson. There could be a Lovecraftian horror napping down there for all we know. One that might make its way up to the surface sometime in the future.'' Mr. Robertson hadn''t lived long enough to see it happen in the original timeline, but that didn''t mean we wouldn''t have to reckon with whatever was down there in the future. Sure, it might be a far-off prospect, but that didn''t mean we were safe. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. That fact only made my stomach turn even more. ''The others are out of their minds.'' I reasoned inwardly. ''Every stat point we get now at level 1 will be doubled at level 2 and tripled at level 3. Meaning gaining them now is exponentially more valuable than getting them later. Doing simple math, 1 times 2 is 2. Times 3 is 6. Times 4 at level 4 is 24. That means, by following basic multiplication, a single stat point turns into 120 stat points at level 5 and 720 at level 6. The training we do now at level 1 is the most valuable training we will ever do. So, any time wasted resting is the equivalent of hundreds of stat points wasted in the future. You''d have to be blind to not see it.'' I turned towards the field once more. Seeing the vast swathes of food and the progress I''d been making while also shoring up my weaknesses. At that moment, I couldn''t fell any sense of happiness or accomplishment anymore. Despite the glee I had felt moments prior. All I felt, was that I was wasting time. That I was falling short. That there was still so much more work to be done here. "I''ve seen documentaries on how much food is wasted after it comes to the shelves." I told coach Russell. "I figure we''ve stocked a few hundred supermarkets. If that." "Try a couple thousand." He chuckled. "These babies are huge. And they take a long time to start rotting besides. We''re actually lobbying to make the government lay off on food safety inspections because our little beauties have drawn so much suspicion. Some people online claim we''re irradiating our crops or filling them to the gills with preservatives." I turned to him in surprise. "It hasn''t even been a month!" He shrugged. "What can I say? People talk. Especially conspiracy theorists." "They''re not conspiracy theorists if they are right." I protested. "We are irradiating them. Only with magic instead of, whatever it is that they''re thinking of." He shrugged again. Theatrically bringing his shoulders up while smiling. "Even a broken clock is right twice a day, I suppose." I clicked my tongue and turned once more towards the trucks. Their loads sitting prettily in the afternoon sun. "There is still no way this is enough to feed an entire province." I insisted. "We need to make more food." "Not yet." He agreed. "But keep in mind that the decline in worldwide food production has only just started to have an effect. First world countries are feeling the sting, but it isn''t a crisis over here. Our operation has also delayed the issue even further. Kicking the can down the road, as it were." He paused to glance over the field. "But this is just the beginning. Normal crops will fail more and more. Normal pastures will fall short. It''s only a matter of time. To that end, this is a good use of our time. Think of it like a trial run for the real thing. We''ll eventually be moving on to more accessible locations so Casper doesn''t have to keep teleporting back and forth. The profits will allow us to hire more normal people and to then bring a fair deal of them into our little secret. That means more people with late-Stage cores helping out and levelling before Breaking Day. By that point, uninterrupted food production will be a political ace as well. We''ll get just about anything we want past a fair few governments, provided we keep the masses fed." Coach Russell said all of this with a straight face. Apparently not picking up on how cynical and downright evil his words were. "Of course, that whole endeavor relies on you keeping up or even improving this new skill of yours. We''ll have to do some more experimenting on other kinds of unsuitable terrain. The kind of infertile land we can snag up for pennies out in the middle of nowhere." He then slapped my back in a jovial manner. The strike taking air out of my lungs as I stumbled forward. "But that''s all in the future. For now, you need some time to rest. Why don''t you head on back home? I''m sure your family would appreciate some more time with you." ''I wish.'' The thought came too quickly and I immediately felt bad about having summoned it in the first place. In truth, things had not been well at home as of late. Aunt Cheryl had been isolated from the rest of the town since we arrived and her getting a basic first stage core hadn''t helped matters. Most people had the good manners to say good things in front of me, but I had still caught a few errant whispers here and there. It would seem that there was a fairly large degree of prejudice against people with basic cores. So that her new so-called friends turned into vipers the moment she finally formed a core of her own. She focused more and more on doting on Eva and I, but I could tell she was having a hard time. As for uncle Uter, well... He''d become less of himself as of late. More withdrawn. It was hard to tell where his mind was at any one time. Regardless, that didn''t matter. Coach Russell was right. So, I went back. Running alongside him through kilometers upon kilometers of forest. The trees whooshing by as we darted through the foliage at a pace that would have put normal horses to shame. In another life, I might have been wary of woodland creatures. Of the chances a wild bear or an angry moose might decide to pop out and charge at me. Now, I had no such concerns. Firstly, because I was pretty sure I could outrun any normal animal with my eyes closed and my hands tied behind my back. And secondly... ''Because I''m not sure a fight between a bear and me would end well. For the bear, I mean.'' Elsie had shown me and my friends a video of her in just that situation. Alongside her brand new rug. Back then, I thought I could still make out an expression of abject terror plastered on the trophy''s dead face. Then again, it might have simply been my imagination. I allowed my mind to drift then. My nose drawing in the smells and sights of the woods as the afternoon sun began to set on the horizon. The leaves shinning with a golden tint as day turned to night. ''The fields felt wonderful, but this is fine too, in its own way.'' I kept running and running and running. Over tangled roots and anthills and sticky stretches of mud. My feet somehow finding the perfect spots to land on without me having to think too much about it. All while I drowned in an increasingly beautiful scenery, as the twilight deepened under the canopy and the shadows stretched out in all directions. The branches reverberating with the songs and cries of birds and the buzzing of countless insects. It was as if the very air were alive, as more and more scents wafted up from ponds. Little frogs croaking and jumping to and from the waters we leapt over in our journey. The whole of the biome coming together to penetrate my mind and the whole of my perceptions. ''It''s like magic.'' I mused with a soft smile. Then I froze mid-step. As the truth of that statement hit me like a runaway bus. ''No. It isn''t like magic. It IS magic.'' I turned my head upwards. Taking a deep, calming breath and tasting the ambient energy more carefully. "Cecil? What''s wrong?" Coach Russell asked. His figure approaching fast now that he had turned around to face me. "The air." I told him. My face now flushed with the familiar power. "It''s just like the one on the first floor." I paused to search the canopy more closely. Taking note of how much bigger the birds now seemed. How intelligent and self-aware their stares were. "It''s filled with magic. Just like in the Dungeon." Chapter 32: The Creature Lives. "It really isn''t that big a deal." Coach Russell assured me. His tone sounding as relaxed as always. I stared at him, but didn''t say anything further. My body remaining still as stone as my eyes tracked the two-headed raven flying above us. It felt weak. Barely above a normal animal in terms of physical might. Yet it had still been smart enough to lead a pack of wolves straight to us. Its two sets of eyes assessing us with a cold, calculated stare as it waited for the growling predators to act. "Normal ravens do this sometimes." He continued. "It''s normal for them to lead wolves to prey so they can get a few scraps after the fact. Some ravens will even form bonds with young pups by playing with them while they''re still, well, young. You know, people really do underestimate how smart animals are in general, but corvids really are on another level. They''ve even been known to use tools and they have a deep understanding of societal norms and the principles of reciprocity. If you befriend a group of them by feeding them every so often, they will learn to dislike the people you dislike, especially if they act aggressively towards you. Something like this isn''t anything out of the ordinary." "It has two heads." I repeated. "So? Lots of animals have two heads." He answered condescendingly. Knowing damn well it would irritate me further. "No. Lots of monsters have two heads. In the Dungeon." He sighed in an overly dramatic manner. The sound carrying even over the still-present growling all around us. "Cecil, this whole patch of forest surrounds the Dungeon. It''s been drinking in torrents of ambient magic for several decades now. Even as the amount of magic increases year after year. Of course weird things are going to pop out now and again." "And you don''t think this is weird?" I asked pointedly. He only shrugged his massive shoulders once more. "Not in the slightest. In fact, it would be weirder if there weren''t any changes. Especially now that a monster apocalypse is but three years away. Breaking Day will be bad, but it won''t be a big, sudden change out of the blue. Little things will start to happen around the world here and there before the dam finally snaps and magic floods the outside like a tsunami." He pointed to the bird with a bored expression. "Mutations are going to happen whether we like it or not. So sit back and relax already. This much is nothing compared to the odd Ripper that escapes from the first floor now and then. Even a mundane bloke with a gun would be able to get out of this unscathed." I stared him down. My eyes so focused on his stupid, self-assured grin that I feared I might punch him by reflex. ''It would feel good.'' I told myself. ''It would feel oh so very good to finally let him know how I really feel. He''s had it coming for a while now and it isn''t like he''ll feel it either way. Yeah. You know what? I''ll go for it. Maybe it''ll help me relax.'' Chances were he probably wouldn''t feel it anyway. I felt my skin tingle then. My senses effortlessly tracking the wolves as they circled closer and closer. Their soft paws brushing against roots and fungal matter on the forest floor. All of which I could feel as extensions of myself. It was similar to when I had grown the plants within the first floor, but with a distinct sense of discontinuation. I was now more connected to them, but we had not become one unending whole, as I had done with the beans back then. Indeed, when I allowed my magic to flow a bit more freely, I could see them from within their own perspectives as well as my own. Their heartbeats resonating with mine even as they plotted to bring me and coach Russell down. Also, while I could more or less get a feel for their hunger, there was an emotion that was curiously missing. I couldn''t sense the sheer, insurmountable terror any living being should be feeling when faced with a freak of nature like my coach. ''They can''t sense us.'' I realized with some curiosity. ''Not our magic anyway. They see two men in the woods. Alone. While trusting the raven to bring them towards easy marks.'' That was... unfortunate. For them, anyway. "Hey, Cecil." Coach Russell said suddenly. "You''re focusing on the wolves, right?" I blinked. "Yes?" "I want you to stop then. Try to focus on the raven and only the raven." He said. "Try to see if you can connect with it. Or if it can tell that you have magic." I shrugged and did as he asked. The bird was a much smaller outline than the wolves, but it was slightly stronger at the same time. I could feel faint trickles of magic gathered around its feathers, its wings, its eyes. Coating its body as if the magic were some sticky remnant of an oil spill. "Huh." I said aloud. My eyes and other senses now focused solely on it. "It isn''t like a monster at all. It can''t really use magic. It''s only affected by it. It changed, but not to the point where magic is part of it." Then I stopped, considering the implications based on my current knowledge. "Is this what people who don''t get cores are li...?" I was just about to take a step towards him, when I felt a half itchy, half tickling sensation around my neck. The odd feeling yanking me out of the hyper-focused state I''d been in. It didn''t hurt. Not quite. Instead, it felt as though there was a mosquito landing on me. I reached out to scratch myself on instinct and stopped when my fingers felt something furry instead of my own skin. I noted the change in coach Russell''s expression then. Going from mild worry, to barely suppressed laughter. I looked down and then moved my head to the side. Following the fangs to the face they were attached to. Then, in the back of my mind, I thought about how many novels could have been written on the wolf''s expression alone. He or she, I really didn''t know, had what I could best describe as the expression of someone who had just realized they''d killed one of Mike Tyson''s pet pigeons. That is, prime form Mike Tyson. In front of him. Whilst blowing raspberries in his general direction. Time seemed to slow down all around us, and in those few precious moments; I swore I could pinpoint the exact second in which the would-be attacker realized it was time to start running. Their wolfish eyes dilating into the perfect picture of supernatural terror. For my part, I was so surprised that I swung my arm in one potent, fluid motion. The wolf lost their grip on my neck at once. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Then they went flying like a football. Until the animal''s body found the bark of a nearby tree. There was loud crack that cut through the air like knife through hot butter. And then the poor creature slumped down. Their spine twisted in odd directions at several places. Their chest caved-in as though an elephant had stepped on it. I turned to the rest of the pack. Staring at them. They stared right back. Alongside their raven accomplice who had both set of eyes locked on me and my fist as both of their mouths hung open in apparent disbelief. Then it turned. Quick as lightning, and flew away. Its wings beating the air like a pair of drums as it frantically tried to get away as fast as it possibly could. The wolves wasted no time either. Turning tail and making for the deeper parts of the forest with a flurry of motion. Me and coach Russell stood still throughout the whole ordeal. Not making a sound until all the animals had left. Then, I went over to the wolf. Pumping magic into it to bring it back to health. "Cecil, she''s dead." Coach Russell said. In a voice that was very matter-of-fact. "I read somewhere that brain-death doesn''t occur for a few seconds." I told him. Not taking my eyes or hands of the wolf. There was a mote of indignation bubbling within me at the same time. My chest pounding as I realized this wouldn''t have happened if he hadn''t told me to focus on the raven instead. ''I could have dodged the bite. I would have dodge the bite. Very easily too. Was he trying to teach me something with the raven? Or was this all some elaborate prank? If so, why? Did he want to prove that wolves like these really weren''t anything? Or was his point that I''m already strong enough as is and that I don''t need to be so focused on training?'' If so, he''d failed miserably. Hurting the animal hadn''t done anything but upset me. Yet even that sparked another round of inquiries. ''Why do I feel so angry right now? It''s not like it''s a dog or anything. It''s a wolf. A predator. Something that was trying to eat me just now. It is no less bloodthirsty than the freaking Rippers are. So, why do I feel this way?'' To that, I had no answer. I simply knew that it was alive and I had killed it. And that fact slithered around the pit of my stomach like a tangle of angry, very bitey serpents. Despite me having killed thousands of monsters by now without feeling an ounce of regret. ''Whatever. There will be time for questions later. Focus on the healing.'' The body drunk my magic eagerly. Spine twisting and re-shaping itself into a shape that was more or less that of a canine. Yet, it still looked odd somehow. As if I were sketching a wolf whilst half-asleep. ''Or drunk.'' I thought bitterly. The limbs were too long. The snout too squished in. The torso too broad and muscular. So that it resembled an emaciated gorilla more than anything else. And still, the flesh continued to change. Twisting and spiraling around the thickening bones like vines around a tree. Growing, growing, growing... Until the poor creature began to dwarf the usual Rippers in terms of bulk. Then, I noticed another curious thing. The small plants and bits of fungus that made up the undergrowth had started to set into the body as well. Making the muscles swell even more as they intermingled. I cursed my lack of control. Reasoning that the little magic I allowed to leak had been more than enough to alter these other lifeforms. I expected the animal to truly die then. Her flesh devoured by scavengers eager for an easy meal. But that did not happen. Instead, the plants began assembling themselves along the lines of the already existing muscle. Same with the fungal matter that expanded along the bones. They wove themselves inside organs. Both the ones that were intact and the ones I had ruptured. And still the creature grew. Enlarging itself with my magic as a battery. It got to the point where the previously simple and, in all honesty, emaciated looking wolf now looked like something that would be hunting Rippers on the regular. Appearing as a semi-bipedal monster with only a vague semblance of canine features. However, its claws were made of wood and mushrooms grew around its eyes and along its back. Spores covering the spaces between its thick fur like padding beneath armor. Then, I felt it. Heard it, even. The loud, consistent thudding. Of a beating heart.
Cecil was sighing. Looking almost happy, as he stared up at the Frankenstein''s monster he''d just created. The stitched-together abomination rising on two heavy-set legs as its dog-like snout sniffed at the air. "Thank goodness." He said. "I was worried it was going to die." That statement left me a bit conflicted. Now, on one hand, Cecil was fourteen; and contrary to what him and many, many other claimed, I was not, in fact, a psycho. A bastard, sure. I was man enough to admit that. But not a psycho. I understood emotions just fine. Besides that, I''d been tested for it too. Multiple times. So, I could appreciate that a kid like him might be bummed out after killing an animal. After all, I''d grown up on a farm and killing pigs still messed me up. I still did it because they tasted delicious, but it did affect me. On the other hand, this was not an appropriate time for a fourteen year old boy to feel relief. I knew that because I was much, much older than Cecil was, and I was just about to shit my pants. The thing in front of me was nothing less than a crime against nature. Like my first mother in-law, but somehow even uglier and more bloated. Its mouth was half open as it started to breathe again. Its mutated chest heaving as the muscles ripping out of the skin had to bear the strain of its own weight, plus all the plants and mushrooms that had crawled inside it and died. It had a tongue that was far too long and far too green. Coupled with a breath that smelled like my second mother in-law. Though, on a second sampling of tainted air, it was perhaps not quite as putrid as she had been. That tongue now tasted the air like a snake. Slobbering pink, frothy drool all over the place as bits of blood and coughed-up chunks of lung were mixed in with its saliva. More mushrooms became visible then. Sprouting around the eyes and ears. Twitching every few seconds or so as if they too could taste the air around us. That was when I recalled something Carlyle had said about Cecil. Not this young, good kid, but the Cecil he had known in the original timeline. "I have known many monsters, Russell. But even the worst of them paled in comparison to some of the people I ran into." Carlyle had seemed distant, when he said that. Melancholic, even. "The Necromancer of Nepal was bad, of course. But at least he openly advertised. You only had yourself to blame if you blundered into his territory and he was even known to let refugees through on occasion. Then there was the Cancun Cannibal and the Chicago Minotaur. The Glasgow Gouger and the Detroit Despoiler. The Detroit Firestarter. The Detroit Gravedigger. The Detroit Butcher. The Detroit Cannibal. The other Detroit Cannibal. The other, other Detroit Cannibal. That one was really bad. The other two would at least kill you before they started. Again, terrible, but they stayed in one place. You knew what you were getting into going in." He had gone so far as to chuckle at his own dry humor. "No, the really horrible ones were the roaming killers. Good old Atomic Tony was a well meaning imbecile, but an imbecile he remained. I''m honestly convinced he must have had some severe developmental delay or something. Because it somehow never occurred to him that magic radiation was just as bad, or even worse than regular radiation. So you''d have entire swathes of the US where Super Cancer was the leading cause of death. Even with more and more monsters popping out the ground. Then, we get to Skin-flaying Sanchez in Colombia and Molten Mario in the Italian wastes. Luca the Leper and Asteroid Arthur. People who just indulged in whatever they wanted. Though, oddly enough, them turning into warlords saved a lot more people than Tony with his theatrics." He had sighed as he eyed the forms on the table. The job offer and the invitation. "And then there are those that I can''t really call people. The Mummy was one, of course. But we never could figure out who he or she was. For all I know, he or she is still out there. Waiting to emerge on Breaking Day like some primordial evil slithering away from a tomb." He had shivered at the thought. "Then we have Cecil. Good old Rancher''s Bane. Lazily drifting through northern Canada and striking out at random without a care in the world." Carlyle looked at the forms again. "We didn''t think he was a person at first. Merely the presumed super-predator that had climbed to the top of the food-chain on the North American Continent. That changed when I got close enough to read his mind." Carlyle looked very sad again. "Fifty people died for me to get that chance. Fifty of the top fighters humanity had to offer. In the span of a few seconds. Tony foremost among them. Cecil didn''t even flinch. Tore his torso from his hip with a swipe of one of his bladed tails. Just like that. Here one second, gone the next. And that was with [Chimera] being a fourth-stage core. Though of course, we didn''t know that at the time. Thinking back, I don''t think he even looked at him." He chuckled again. "I don''t think he cared." Carlyle signed the forms and rose from his desk to scan and email them through the printer. "I didn''t manage to kill him, in case you were wondering. I could tell the mind was somewhat human, but it was so warped that I could only gleam a few details before my magic was rebuffed. Then it evolved on the spot to counter my magic and I knew it was time to go." A hint of shame had shown up on Carlyle''s face then. "You know, Russell, some people have theories on what affects the cores we get. There is the entire aspect of training, of course, but we both know that not all of our students are made equal. Just like how not all advanced cores are made equal." He had been scanning the forms with shaking hands. As if remembering the fight. "Some people, myself included, think that genes play a role too. Not just in inheritance, but in what core we get in the first place. After all, there was no time to train the first time. No one had any advanced warning and the few Dungeons that were discovered were monopolized by the governments of the world. Though it didn''t do them much good for all that. I was working for them the first time around and I managed to get a seventh-stage core right off the bat. While my peers considered themselves lucky to get second-stage cores. Then, you had guys like Cecil, who never trained a day in his life aside form the struggles with starvation, somehow turning into living nightmares." "So you chose to invite him." I''d cut in. "Of course I did!" He''d replied cheerfully. "I made sure to leave him enough time to fully develop into a somewhat sane individual, since I figured an early inception might be counter-productive to mental health. But make no mistake. That monster is still there. Waiting to spread its wings like a butterfly springing out of its cocoon." He''d finished sending the papers then. An impish, cat-like smile on his face. "But hey. If he must come out, better that he grow into a nice tight leash this time around." Chapter 33: Cupcake. "I don''t know how I feel about letting her go." I told coach Russell. "Well that makes one of us." He told me. His face a mask of impassive apathy. "I know exactly how I feel and how I feel is horrified. That thing could be farting out Super Cancer for all you know. We have to take it in for testing back at the biohazard lab in town. Or, we put her down. Right here. Right now." He paused to think. "We''ll also be burning the body afterwards. I don''t think the bean situation will repeat itself, but I''d rather not take any chances. Don''t fancy getting shot outside the dungeon, you know? And that''s me talking. Not everyone can tank your bean-sniper squads. Especially not the other kids, The ones who could wander around the farm you''ve grown at any moment." He paused again. His eyes dilating. "Oh shit. The farm." "What about it?" I asked in confusion. "What would happen if your Frankenwolf zombie wandered into the crops? What would happen to anyone who ate the food afterwards? Would we be dealing with some kind of infection?" "That''s not going to happen." I waved him off. "Howe do you know?" It was my turn to pause. "Well, I don''t exactly know it but..." "But nothing." Coach Russell snapped. "Carlyle spent a lot of money bribing officials to pass fake test results showing the giant veggies were, in fact, edible. It wasn''t a big worry until now, because our own tests showed your residual magic has slightly healing properties and they are indeed edible. The chances of anyone getting sick was in the negative, so us skipping the usual process was a matter of simple expedience. But all of that effort will crumble like a house of cards the moment our produce gets linked to some fungal infection turning people into truck-stop bathroom zombies." He looked at the wolf more closely. "We have to burn her. Now." I turned to him with a mounting sense of irritation. My knuckles clenching and unclenching with suppressed rage despite the reason in his argument. ''His logic is sound. I don''t have an counterargument. So, why am I so angry at him?'' There was a connection between me and the wolf, true. But there had always been a connection between me and all my creations and that hadn''t stopped me from shipping off giant potatoes by the truckload or sending the plant monsters in Alaska to their messy gory deaths. And yet, I knew this was different. Those had been plants. Living beings, yes. But not in the same way that animals were. Not in the same way that I and the wolf were living beings. Right now, I felt her. Her fear. Her relief. The pain she''d felt when y fist struck her torso. The agony that followed and the sense of loss. Of letting go. All of that, combined with the surge of vitality that had come afterwards. The joy that life brought. ''She feels me too.'' I wanted to shout. ''She''s a thinking, breathing, emotionally aware being. One that is aware of itself and of me as a person now. She''s smarter than she was and she knows what is happening to some degree. Killing her would be... murder.'' It sounded stupid, even as I thought of it. But it felt true in my heart. "Since when do you care about the dangers of doing anything?" I prodded. Trying to find some wiggle room. He shrugged. "I''ve always cared. It''s just that I''ve always been familiar with what I''m putting you up against. I''m not some psycho Cecil." ''That''s exactly what a Psycho would say.'' I thought to myself. Still, despite all my protests, part of me knew that coach Russell had a point. This, did not look good. Not in the slightest. The creature in front of us now only vaguely resembled a canine. What with the generous amount of fungal growths interspersed around her frame and the blood-red leaves growing from her shoulders all the way to her tail. Then, there was the fact that she was now even taller than me and the issue of her having more magic than the raven that had led her here. An errant hunter in the wrong place at the wrong time might be able to escape from a hungry wolf pack, if he was armed. However, that same hunter would find himself rapidly separated from the rest of his body is he happened to chance upon my new... uh... friend. I was pretty sure she was bulletproof now. Maybe even truck-proof to some degree. As such, letting her loose might be the same as condemning a few dozen poachers to messy, grisly deaths. Maybe a few park rangers too. Then there was the whole secrecy of magic to consider. Granted, Mr. Robertson had already started to lift the veil of secrecy, but he and coach Russell had made it perfectly clear that those events would take place under carefully controlled circumstances and preferably far, far away from any of their businesses. Not only was she not controlled, but she was also far too close to town for comfort. That, and the farm to boot. Anyone who happened to glance upon her would either think she escaped from the fathomless depths of the Dungeon''s smelly cloaca or, if they weren''t in the know, the deepest smoking pits of Tartarus. There was simply no way that anyone in their right mind would think she was anything other than a blood-thirsty monstrosity that ate babies and pooped out bubonic plague. And yet... "Look, coach. I get how this sounds. I really do. But I can''t just agree to have her experimented on. I... I don''t know how to explain it. I have this connection with her." "You''re not helping your case Cecil." "I know! I know! Okay! She''s... she''s not the most photogenic of..." I hesitated. Trying to find the words. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. "Crimes against nature?" He offered. Not sounding as if he were joking. "Animals." I finished. Coach Russell gave me a look that did not bode well for her chances. Then he sighed into his hand. "Cecil, I... I want to indulge you. But I can''t. It, she, needs to be either studied or put down. There''s too much at risk here. I mean, I think back to the beans and I sort of chuckle, you know? It''s funny. Magic beans that go around setting up encampments and shooting us from behind cover. It''s really funny." Coach Russell''s face betrayed the fact that it was not, indeed, funny. "But then I started trying to get rid of them in earnest and found that I couldn''t. They seem to have invaded the... I don''t know how to call it. The underlying mechanism of the Dungeon. At least in some floors. They are now spawning in like regular monsters. Though mostly on the sixth floor and below." Coach Russell passed his thick, calloused fingers through his hair. "Do you recall how bad the swamp on the sixth floor was? Now imagine snipers taking potshots at you from behind every boulder and Vietcong-style traps at every other step. Cecil, the beans are in the trees. They''re in the trees! I can assure you that a lot of people are not laughing. And it''s worse on the tenth floor and below. They''ve managed to develop world-war 1 era biplanes! Don''t ask me how. Your little soldiers as actually strafing people down there! And they''re fighting the regular tenth-floor monsters for dominance! It''s like a warzone in there! Bean soldiers gunning down gnomes and gnomes lighting up bean collectives all over the place. Both keep spawning so no side will ever win, but it has made training and traversal that much more dangerous. This thing..." He pointed at the she-wolf. "She could be incubating a deadly virus for all you know. She needs to be put down and she needs to be put down yesterday." Again, I had no retort. I thought I had one for a few seconds, but she then coughed up another chunk of lung tissue. My magical senses telling me a new pair of organs were replacing the damaged old ones. Flesh intermingling with plant matter and fungal growths. So that the breathing apparatus was connected to several sprouts along the front and back, instead of just the throat. I imagined that happening to another person. A normal human being. I cringed away from the thought, but then I had an epiphany. "Okay Okay! I see what the problem is! She''s a bit too feral and... well... wrong. But I can fix that! I transformed her into what she is now and I can keep changing her until it isn''t an issue!" Coach Russell narrowed his eyes. "Explain." I placed one of my hands on the wolf. Feeling a mix of textures through my fingers. Budding leaves and stringy fur, interposed with hardening mushrooms here and there. "I can try to change her back into a sort-of regular wolf. I mean, the plant and mushroom stuffing will still be there on the inside, but no one will be able to see the difference and it shouldn''t matter if she''s not leaking stuff anymore! I can keep her in my mansion, since no one''s using it! It''s far away from the fields and pretty close to your own compound, so you can check in anytime you want! If you give me enough time, I might even be able to make so that she looks like a dog and my uncle lets me keep her!" Coach Russell didn''t look convinced. "Okay! Okay! Think of it like training! You''ve always wanted me to be the best me that I can be, right? Imagine how much I''ll be able to improve if I can use her to learn about my own magic! I could learn to change my body with even more precision and I could learn to better control whatever else I spawn in the future. You want that, right? You don''t want the thing with the beans to repeat itself, right?" One of his eyes twitched. Ever so slightly. His expression giving way, as his mind juggled the pros and cons. It was then that I knew I had him.
I was still reeling from the encounter by the time we made it back to the town proper. Past the fence and the guards stationed outside. "Hello boss." One of the men said. Jovially addressing coach Russell as we passed the checkpoint. "Looking good Martin." Coach Russell said in response. Shooting him a finger gun gesture and winking before turning to me. Martin glanced my way and then towards my new companion. "Holly molly that''s a big husky!" He spoke. "She''s even bigger than a wolf! Where''d you get her?" "Oh you know." I said non-committaly. "Around." Martin inched closer. Stretching out a hand for some petting. Which struck me as a rather silly thing to do with an unknown animal. Then again, it isn''t as if he were in any kind of danger. The guards around the fences were not the best of the best, but they were still adults who trained on the regular. She could still be in her hulking plant-zombie form and not stand a chance against him, given his level. "Does she have a name?" Martin asked. "Cupcake." I answered. "Because she''s so sweet." Well, okay. That was stretching the truth a little bit. She was more fond of growing tentacles from her back and tearing elk to pieces than she was of snuggling, after all. But I hoped that the name would go a long way towards keeping her alive. Since I figured armed personnel would be less inclined to slice her up from head to heel if they associated her with a cute name. Coach Russell had laughed at my logic, but it seemed to be working so far. Her current form was holding fast as she licked Martin''s fingers instead of biting them off. ''And coach Russell was saying we didn''t have a connection. Hah! I sure showed him! Keep it up Cupcake! You''re doing great!'' "All right Cecil, it looks like it''s pretty late. You run along now and have yourself a good long rest. Take tomorrow off too while you''re at it. You could use the diversion." "I''d rather go down into the Dungeon if I won''t be on the farm." I grumbled. "I could even take Cupcake along." That brought on a laugh. Not just from the coach, but also from all the men near him. "The kid''s a natural!" One of them said. "That young and already addicted! Man, what a world!" Another guffawed. "It''s Russell''s fault." A woman in uniform interrupted. "He''s corrupting the youth with his vile ways. Little Cecil here will be taking out two girlfriends to dinner at once before we know it." The comment brought on a blush, which only elicited more laughter from the three guards and coach Russell. Until I found myself sort of laughing with them. Indeed, the woman was laughing so hard at her own joke that she had to lean on the security booth in order to remain standing. She had her rifle slung over her shoulder as if it was a prop and not a weapon. ''Which is probably how she sees it too.'' I considered. ''If I almost killed Cupcake by accident, it stands to reason that anyone who''s even a couple of levels higher than me could do much more damage with their bare hands than with any kind of gun.'' "Now if only that aunt of his was half as smart as he is. Maybe then she wouldn''t have ended up a dud!" The other two guards laughed along this time as well. "I mean, hot damn! A basic core in this day and age! Talk about a wreck. She was only going down to the first floor and them coming up all in tears with her mascara running. Yeah! she actually put on mascara before going down into the Dungeon! I was shocked she didn''t wear heels too!" The other two guards laughed along this time as well. "And afterwards she''d go on and on about how hard she had it. Like, she never stopped! It was all, Wah! Wah! I have wino face! Wah! Wah! Honestly, it''s a good thing she became a dud. now she can go back to what she loves most. Day drinking!" The other two guards laughed along this time as well. "I swear! Her core isn''t really [Water]. It''s [Boozehound]! She can go have as many..." The woman started doing heavy air quotes. "Milkshakes, as she wants now! With enough ethanol to put a bull elephant down for weeks! She''s drinking so much the ruskies and the Irish are looking at her with concern! She''s singlehandedly keeping Hennessy in business! Her breath hits you from across the room and it''s seven minutes early wherever she goes! It hits monsters even harder than her club does! She''s drinks so much her splash attack does poison damage!" Coach Russell snickered, but then his eyes met mine. I wasn''t laughing. Neither was Cupcake. Her demeanor changing at once to match mine own. And then, he wasn''t laughing either. "Hey, Candice. Apologize." The woman looked taken aback all of the sudden. "For what? I''m just saying..." "Apologize. Now." Coach Russell''s tone could have frozen lava. Yet it was not even half as cold as the chill that had gripped my heart. ''Calm yourself. Fool.'' I told myself. ''She''s probably twice your age and at least four times your level. Calm. Down. There will be a time where you''ll be strong enough to make her eat her words. But that day is still far off. Calm yourself. Bide your time.'' The woman finally seemed to realize that I was, in fact, standing in front of her. Her face turning into an ugly shade of red, as she took in my stony countenance. All while I was busy memorizing her face and name for future reference. ''Have you fun, Candice. Laugh. Go on. Laugh. Make fun of my aunt who never expected to fight monsters in her life. Poke fun at how she''s struggling to raise me and Eva while surrounded by people like you. It''s funny. But not as funny as what I will do to you.'' Cupcake began to growl. Fur bristling as her innards began to re-arrange themselves so that layers of hardened plant matter covered her bones and organs. ''Not today.'' I thought to myself. ''Not tomorrow either. But someday. Someday. I will be strong. Strong enough to make you eat those words. And that will be hilarious.'' Intermission: The Usurper. The day was cold and grey and ugly. The winds howling across desolated plains and rocky ridges with a ferocity that beggared belief. Making it so that he barren landscape whistled maliciously as the air passed over and around the stones near the mining complex. The darkening clouds dotting the heavens above us certainly didn''t help matters either. Indeed, their presence only served to highlight the dourness of the housing complex that surrounded the mine. The barbed wire fencing and emaciated guards acting as little more than decorations on the periphery. ''Do their guns work, I wonder?'' Perhaps. Though I didn''t see how it mattered in the end. This remained a place of death either way. The grim reaper''s presence clearly visible on all the people toiling in the mines down below. All of them looked old and tired. Ready to embrace death when it finally came. But I had read some of Carlyle''s files. Folders that included their real names, and the crimes their extended family had committed. I knew better. And the knowledge sickened me. A girl passed below us then. Twelve, by my estimate. Though it was hard to tell due to how skinny and malnourished she was. She had a matted, tangled mess of filthy black hair on her head. Cut short so as to not impede her work. Her face was ashen and pale. The only colors coming from the soot she was covered in and the bruises on her right cheek. Her body was covered in a filthy rag that any sensible person would have thrown out back home. Loose strands of fabric trailing down patchwork patterns that ran down to her stick-like legs and bare feet. A normal human would not have been able to tell what kind of face she was making from this distance, but such a feat was nothing to me. She was in trance. Focused solely on her work and in putting one foot in front of the other. Not daring to think about anything else, lest she accidentally drop the sack she was carrying. Her hands were filled with a motley mix of scabs and open sores and I had to wonder where she got the strength to remain upright under all that pressure. Her sunken-in eyes regarded our party briefly. Her pupils holding on to my reflection with the slightest hint of curiosity. Then, a guard behind her jammed the butt of his old rifle into her midsection and any hint of that was gone. The eyes that I saw then might as well have belonged to a sock puppet, for all the life they held. I felt my fists clench in spite of myself. My magic surging like a typhoon with a deadly mix of rage and indignation. ''Kill him.'' A voice whispered in my ear. ''Kill them all. You''re, what? Level five? And all these monsters have are rifles dating back to the Korean war. It doesn''t matter that [Space] isn''t geared towards combat. You could end this entire thing. Right here. Right now. You could save all these people and take them wherever you damn well pleased.'' ''No.'' Another voice whispered. ''Carlyle knows what he''s doing. He''s a heartless bastard, but not to this degree. Be patient. These people will be free.'' ''When?'' The first voice countered. ''When Breaking Day finally comes? When half or more of them have died and withered away into rotting strips of meat? When it becomes expedient for him and his master plan? Can you really afford to wait that long? Can that girl survive that long? Think, Casper. Is this what dad would have wanted? What do you suppose he would have done?'' That was a hard question to answer. On the one hand, dad always trusted Carlyle unconditionally. To the detriment of most other things in his life. On the other hand, I couldn''t bring myself to think that he would permit this. The dad I knew would have rained down death on anyone who hurt children. Or so I hoped. ''How odd.'' I mused inwardly. ''The angel at my shoulder is crying out for blood, while the devil is urging me to be patient.'' I shook my head and took another deep, relaxing breath. Unclenching my fists as I did so. ''Later.'' I promised myself. ''I will ask Carlyle about all of this later today. As soon as we''re done here. Whatever it is that he''s planning, it has to be soon. I won''t stand for anything less.'' My ears perked up at that moment. Carlyle''s voice cutting through the others like a hot knife through butter. He was laughing with the general and his men. Jovially discussing something in Korean that I couldn''t understand. If the scenery had made him upset, he didn''t show it. He turned to a stout middle-aged man and clasped him around the shoulders as one would a long-lost brother. Welcoming him into a hug and pointing at the trucks parked nearby. The ones full of the crops Cecil had grown. The general and his staff all laughed. Carlyle laughed. Stolen novel; please report. Then they walked along the outer perimeter of the mine until they reached the only relatively nice building within three kilometers. I followed them in silence. Playing the part of another, less multilingual investor as well as I could. The inside of the manse was a stark contrast to the world outside. Here, music echoed through the halls from relatively decent speakers. The tracks intermixed with the usual bouts of nonsensical propaganda. At some point, the broadcast began proclaiming that fifty odd Olympic medals had recently been won. In English and other languages. Despite the Olympics taking place two years ago and, as far as I knew, no one from the country winning a single event. ''But I suppose that''s a bit of an insignificant gripe compared to what''s happening outside.'' For my part, I remained as stoic and formal as possible. Nodding along to whatever it was Carlyle was saying half the time and retreating back to the confines of my own imagination when that didn''t suffice. Just like that, an hour turned into two and then into three. Time flying past me as I tried to focus on my own children and how they might perceive the things I''d seen here. Then my mind started playing tricks on me. My brain replacing the unnamed girl in the mine with one of my daughters. I coughed. Loudly. My magic surging out from within my core in a hurricane. Spreading throughout my body with murderous intent. But Carlyle put a stop to that soon enough. Sending a psychic bolt into me that disrupted my core and sent me reeling to the floor. He waved the scene away. Saying other things I could not understand and all the general and all his staff laughed alongside him. And then we were off. The nearby soldiers escorting us to our arranged transport with nothing but the most strict politeness. Even then, Carlyle began talking loudly at me. Laughing about how much I''d drank and warning me not to let myself get carried away like that in the future. Only when we had travelled for another thirty or so minutes did he allow the mask to drop. Two bursts of magic knocking our driver and the other soldier out cold. Making them as limp as puppets whose strings had been cut. "That was poor acting on your part, Casper." He said. His voice even and devoid of emotion. Even as he made to grab the steering wheel with swift fluid movements. Carlyle then pushed the man aside with the greatest of ease and slammed into the breaks. Holding back just enough raw power to keep the pedals in one piece. "Forget my acting!" I yelled. Rage coming back to me in white hot flashes as I centered myself. "What the fuck was that Carlyle!?" He gave me a sideways glance. One filled with disappointment. "Business, Casper. Always business." He sighed dramatically then. Lifting both men off the now still vehicle and dragging the towards the trunk. "North Korea was not exactly feasting before global crop yields took a nosedive. After the fall of the soviet union, it wasn''t at all strange to see entire villages being abandoned due to starvation. Now, well. The camp you saw used to house roughly 400 political prisoners and their extended families. For a total of 1500 or so. Now, there are less than 150 people in total living there." He shook his head sadly. "The rural communities are not much better either. That, and the usual allies can''t provide the help they used to, due to wrangling food shortages of their own. Neither can they rely on the goodwill of the international community as most other countries are going though the same ordeal. In short, they have a great unmet demand and we happen to have the supply they so desperately crave." "So, you''ll sell them food." "Of course!" Carlyle guffawed. "What else are we going to sell them?" I shook my head in incredulity. "What are they even paying you with then? I mean, I''ll admit I don''t know much about this place, but I do know they''re not exactly swimming in cash." "Ah, but that is because you are close-minded my young friend." Carlyle corrected. "This whole country is a proverbial goldmine! Think about it! You''ve got vast swathes of unused land, ripe for terraforming. A group of leaders who truly could not care any less what we do there so long as they get their cut; AND a population used to doing as they''re told without asking questions. For pennies on the dollar to boot." He chuckled. The bastard actually chuckled. "In fact, a good chunk of people get sent off to nearby countries for cheap labor every year. Or, at least, they used to get sent off. There are a couple of good documentaries on the subject matter, if you care to look them up." "So, we''re relying on slave labor now are we?" Carlyle made a faux-insulted gesture. Pretending to gasp as if he''d been taken aback. "My word Casper! Of course not! Quite the contrary! We are here for humanitarian reasons!" I narrowed my eyes at that. "Oh don''t give me that look you big baby. It''s true and it''ll become obvious if you stop to think about it for more than a few seconds." "Why don''t you enlighten me?" Carlyle sighed with exaggerated exasperation. "Okay. So, first. The country is starving. Even general yummers back there lost twenty pounds in the last two months. Things aren''t just bad. This is a trainwreck spanning two entire continents. Now, granted, a lot of other countries are also starving right now, but nowhere else will you get the kind of media blackout North Korea can impose. Again, we can literally do whatever we want, so long as the gravy train keeps rolling and none of it has to be public to the outside world. All while we genuinely save lives." He finished stashing the two men into the trunk. "Make no mistake. There are hundreds of thousands of peasants out here who are already effectively slaves. They already don''t have any kind of choice as to what they do or what happens to their lives. And their leaders starve them to boot." He pointed to himself. "We will be doing none of that. I plan to pay them first-world wages for first world work hours. A grand total of 40 hours a week without overtime. I swear it on my honor. That, and anyone that gets sent to our little projects will get as much food as they can cram down their mouths. All for free. No questions asked. All I ask is that they take the food out of the ground themselves. I mean, you''ve seen Cecil''s magic at work. That''s an asset that''s too valuable to not use right now and we''re short on labor no matter how you slice it." "Is that really it?" I asked him warily. "Is that all?" "Well, I will also be asking them to man the Dungeon that''s about to manifest around here, but that will be a secondary concern after we get food production up and started." He raised himself up while puffing out his chest. "Not only will we be feeding them properly, but we will also be providing them with better housing, entertainment and eventually, societal freedoms they could never have enjoyed otherwise. I mean, come on! We''re literally bringing democracy here! We''re bringing industry! So what if it comes through early access to Cecil''s homegrown monsters or a man-eating Dungeon?" I had to massage my temple to keep the migraine at bay. "You... you''re telling me there''s a Dungeon. Here. In North Korea. And you want to... what? Raise people here to have cores?" I found myself blinking several times in quick succession. My mind struggling to contain the incredulity I was feeling. "And why not?" Carlyle scoffed. "I''ll have you know that my first wife, James'' mother, was from here. We met and fell in love during the Japanese occupation. Back when I was but a simple-minded resistance fighter. The people who live here are good, hard working folks. The kind that persevere no matter the odds and fight bravely for what they believe in. They deserve every opportunity to get magic for themselves and find their way through the incoming apocalypse." My brain short-circuited for a moment at that. "B-but! The government! What about when they get their hands on magic!" "Oh that''s a minor concern." Carlyle said. Waving away the glaring flaw in his master plan. "The great leader is totally on board with making peace and slowly allowing the people more and more civil liberties." My eyes almost popped out of my skull. "He is!?" Carlyle paused to chuckle again. Pulling something out of his right pocket and placing it over his face. "Well, not right now. But he will be." His face blurred as the thing made contact. His body transforming into one that was younger. Shorter. Wider. "After you kill him that is." Chapter 34: Exploring Skills. Coach Russell stayed behind to talk to the guards. Letting me be on my way and urging me to return home as soon as possible. Yet as I walked back under the dimming evening light, my mind remained alert and buzzing with emotions and thoughts that refused to leave. ''Of course this was going to happen. Of course she and everyone else here would make fun of aunt Cheryl and uncle Uter for being weak. That''s the kind of town this is. One can''t just be a layperson or a office worker or a homemaker. Everyone needs to be at least somewhat strong, because the weak get stepped on. By monsters and fellow humans alike.'' That in itself was nothing new. I had been made aware of the reality of the situation on multiple occasions. It was part of the reason why I had agreed to help Mr. Robertson in the first place. So that more people on the outside could get cores. Because the weak will soon get crushed on the outside as well. It was inevitable, as the two-headed bird had shown me. Those who could adapt would live and those who couldn''t... My mind then went to my family, to my aunt who''d gotten a basic core and to my uncle who hadn''t gotten a core yet. To them and to Eva, who was more and more nervous about the prospect of the Dungeon with every passing day. We''d talked about it, of course. All her friends blabbed so she couldn''t have stayed in the dark forever, despite the rest of the family wanting to keep her out of it entirely. She had cried when I brought over one of the watermelons for her to hit. She''d said her arms hurt and that she didn''t want to do it anymore. She''d said she felt bad for the watermelon. "It looks like a hippo!" She''d cried in between sobs. "I don''t wanna hurt the hippo!" Then, I imagined her being bullied, as aunt Cheryl was being bullied. Being ostracized by lackwits and jerks with their heads so far up their rears that their breath smelt of methane and half-digested poutine. "I have to be strong for them." I decided. "Now more than ever. I have to be so strong that no one even thinks of making fun of them." And that meant going somewhere else. "Come on Cupcake." I urged my new companion. "We''re going to the Dungeon."
The entrance was unguarded. As always. The only barrier being the rather heavy fortifications placed on the topside portions of the murder-hole. There were alarms too, but those would only sound if something non-human was getting out. "And even those are a formality." I mused aloud. "Whomever has the phone linked to the alarm system doesn''t even bother getting off their butts for the odd Ripper that makes it out." I assumed that would change if something other than a Ripper managed the feat, but in actuality the chances of that happening were so close to zero that it may as well be impossible. There may be magic in the air, but there wasn''t anywhere near enough for a monster to simply wander about. Not yet anyway. I turned towards Cupcake then. Wondering how strong she was at the moment compared to a Ripper. ''Probably stronger up here, since she''s used to moving around without magic. That, and the only powers she has are increased stats and those come from me. I don''t think she experiences magic deficiency in the same way that monsters do. Down there though...'' That would have to be one of the things we test out tonight. With such intentions, I put my hands on the heavy steel doors. Feeling my muscles tensing as I marshalled my power. The doors groaned, but did not give way immediately. I clicked my tongue. "I suppose it won''t be so easy without Marco, Drew and Ramji here to help me." I told Cupcake. "Guess it''s time to start trying out those skills in depth." I focused my gaze on the Analyzer and read the available skills once more.
Name: Cecil Fowler
Core: [Life] (7th Stage) / Gains skills from: [Adaptation] / [Constitution] / [Healing] / [Hunger] / [Effort] / [Animal] / [Plant]
Level: 1
Vitality: 7.9
Endurance: 7.7
Potency: 5.1
Precision: 5.2
Fortitude: The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. 7
Skills: [Drain] / [Perseverance] / [Heal] / [Transform] / [Spawn] / [Terraform] / [Over-Mind]
The people here in Dunstonberry used the terms Skill and Spell almost interchangeably, but there were a few distinctions. Spells were anything your core could do with the kind of magic it had. Such as specific results of free-form casting. There were too many applications to count and too many fluctuating inconsistencies with what people tried, so the Analyzer couldn''t quite track them in the same way it could track skills. I''d heard some obsessed people like coach Homer and James, Mr. Robertson''s son, kept their own compilations of spells, but if they did, I hadn''t seen them and neither had seen fit to consult me about them. On the other hand, Skills were like automated highways that magic could pass through. Sort of how blood vessels formed through the body. Only, in the magical sense and around a core. Each Skill was therefore much easier to trigger and new ones formed when cores branched out in new directions. Like roads being built by a growing city. So, one could use Skills much more easily than free-form spells and their effects could be be classified as pre-programed spells on top of that. Also, if you happened to use a spell that, for lack of a better word, clicked, then the Analyzer would pick up on it and use it as a Skill on the status from then on. "I''ve been focusing on stats this whole time, but that''s only part of what I can do. I need to use all the tools at my disposal, if I want to break through my current limits." Moreover, practicing with my Skills would also let me fine-tune the oddities I was capable of. Volatile as the beans had been, no one could deny that they punched far above their level. Especially if an abomination like coach Russell couldn''t wipe them out for good. ''How strong could I get, if I managed to properly control them? How useful would they be, if I got them to provide free labor in the fields? Or as guards for my family?'' With those thoughts in mind, I began going over what I already knew. [Drain] was fairly straightforward, as far as Skills went. I touched something and drained them of lifeforce and stamina, which then restored my own. I hadn''t really used it much since I mainly fought with a spear, but perhaps it was time to change that. [Perseverance] was a tricky one, since I had never felt it''s effects in a way I could describe. Apparently it was a passive sort of power that would increase my stats depending on how hurt I was. Other people who had it, like Sean for example, swore by its effects. Yet, I didn''t know if I wanted to get hurt on purpose in order to test out its effectiveness. [Heal] was both my most used Skill and the one I was most familiar with. The passive side of it gave me a self-regeneration effect that was always active and that I could always feel to some degree. The active effect was merely an overcharged version of it that I could use on others and I''d had plenty of practice using it in the hospital between my recent bouts of farm work. You touch someone and put magic into them and they heal up. Easy and straightforward. [Transform] was when things got trickier. On the one hand, it was my second most-used Skill and I''d been practicing non-stop since getting my core as you could make an argument for it being my main form of magic. On the other hand, it had so many uses and interacted with so many different things in so many different ways that using it on anything unfamiliar was basically gambling. I mean, yeah, I became more attuned to each kind of fruit or vegetable or in Cupcake''s case, animal that I used it on and that helped me use it with more efficiency and direct control afterwards. But there were so many possibilities and hidden interactions between animals and plants and fungi that I basically didn''t know what the upper limits would be. Not a big problem in and of itself. Unless you counted all the ways in which interactions could go wrong. Cupcake coughing up her lungs a few hours ago came to mind. As did the ever evolving beans. "Come to think of it. The beans have apparently been changing by themselves. Even after becoming separated from me. Is it some residual traces of my magic or is it that the things I change can also gain the power to change themselves? If so, why did only the beans go awol and not any of the other plants I used my magic on? Could Cupcake do something similar?" I turned to her. "Could you?" She stared back at me. Lovingly wagging her tail back and forth. Eyes filled with love and that deep sense of connection that had formed between us after I saved her life. I could get a vague sense that she understood my words from that connection. I could also sense that she only got one word in five, if that and that she was far more in synch with my emotions than with the precise thoughts and ideas I was having at the moment. "A question for later, then." I said and continued to stare at the Analyzer as I descended the stairs. [Spawn] was also weird, but for different reasons. It felt as if it was an extension of [Transform] in some ways, in that it affected the creatures I used my magic on. Only, it sort of lingered and I couldn''t really tell where one Skill ended and another began. Then there were the vines I could summon from my hands. Distinct plant matter that were created through [Transform] but that began to act as their own living beings when they got too big. Would they still have access to my magic if they detached themselves from me? Would they act like the fruits and vegetables I grew if they had been part of my body before that point? Again, too many questions and not enough answers. As for [Terraform] and [Over-Mind] they were actually much more straightforward. One let me change the terrain using plants as a catalyst and the other let me communicate with the creatures I had affected. Though I did not know their limits either. "Time to change that." I spoke aloud. Finally chancing across a couple of lone Rippers. It was then that the absurdity of my current situation finally hit me. Here I was. Fourteen years old and still shy of my next birthday. Not even able to drive yet. Waltzing alone in a monster infested pit. Without a weapon. Without fear. And the thought of being hurt did not even cross my mind. Then I focused on the magic coming from these monsters and calmed myself once more. I was not afraid because there was no reason to be afraid. I leapt forward. Feeling my feet leaving the stone steps behind as the stale wind rushed past me. My form parting the air in front as I focused on the feeling of magic on my arms. On my hands. Willing my fingers to sharpen into claws. Those razor-sharp implements found a Ripper as it lunged. Tearing its belly open with one swipe and travelling further to strike the one next to it. It managed to whirl out of the way at the last moment. Evading a lethal blow by the narrowest of margins and swiping at me with one of its own claws. The rending blow left a mark on my armored suit. A small one. It was gone within a second. My tracked the monster as it kept retreating. Never losing track of its form as it dashed from shadow to shadow. It stared at me in turn. So distracted with the prospect of dodging my next blow that it didn''t see Cupcake coming. She tore into the Ripper''s throat. Wooden fangs sinking deep into its blackened fur and tearing chunks of still-warm meat from its body. Then blood gushed out and the monster was dead. Without either of us breaking a sweat. "You know Cupcake. It''s moments like these that make me question if I''m sane or not." Cupcake stared at me lovingly. Eyes filled with admiration and mouth filled with dripping blood. "I mean, I somehow completely forgot you were a wolf until now. I knew it, of course. But it''s as if the reality of it didn''t fully hit me until now. You just felt so, normal." Cupcake continued to stare. Saying nothing. I shrugged in response and I was about to resume our descent, when a thought struck me out of the blue. When making the beans, I had become lost in the process of merging with the plant life I had grown. To the point where I couldn''t tell where I ended and they began. It had resulted in me literally fusing into the plants and the others having to rip me out. In contrast, Cupcake was her own being. Separate from me. In that, she had never been directly connected to me in that manner. Sure, she was strong now, but only compared to the emaciated Rippers up here. What if...? I willed my right hand to grow vines once more. Willing them to lengthen and to merge with pieces of my flesh that also sprouted from me. Turning the leaves and stems red as my own blood. Then, I willed the new growth to separate and pressed it to Cupcake''s body. Letting my magic flow into her and allowing her to direct the changes taking place. Chapter 35: Brain Power. We were dashing past foes on the second. Cruising through the sandy dunes without a care in the world. The cool air sending small pockets of sand upwards and into our faces as we ran. The grains caressing my skin and Cupcake''s fur with every step we took and every monster we slew. It must have been a grisly sight from the point of view of the scorpions though. A massive, hulking beast covered in mushrooms and crimson vines. Ripping stingers away from skittering bodies and lacerating shells in half with makeshift whips of tangled undergrowth and shards of human bones. Oh, and Cupcake was scary too, I guess. The results of my experiments were nothing short of spectacular. Cupcake was even bigger now than she had been before. Faster too. Her eyes tracking prey throughout the first floor without pause as the rest of her body struggled to keep up. I''d made sure to study her and the way the fungal growths mixed with the plant fibers and muscle tissue inside her body before descending to the second floor. The different tissues all worked together to provide redundancies to several organs at the same time. While also enhancing her arms, legs and other parts to be sturdier. More explosive in the power they could exert at a moment''s notice. If I had to describe it, it would be as if her body was hiding the strength and speed of two additional bodies. Each one overlayed and intertwined with the other two in a way that kept up a semblance of harmony in the chaos of it all. Moreover, every blow she was dealt had to contend with all three bodies at once. Layers of hardened bark and spongy mushrooms softening the hits and stemming the blood from the cuts. Until her flesh and all the living tissues attached to the rest of her body knitted themselves back together. When those lessons were applied to my own body, they allowed me to increase the effectiveness of all my stats in a way that beggared belief. As if I had received a temporary multiplier of 50% or 70%, compared to the previous 10% I had been used to working with. Granted this was all subjective, but still... Up until now, I had been rather conservative when it came to the transformations. Limiting myself to surface-level changes that provided clear upgrades to specific parts of my body. But I now knew that to be a waste. It wasn''t enough to grow claws on my hands and plated bone armor over my skin. I had to make it so that the muscles and bones and nerves were all enhanced at the same time. With fresh additions that human bodies could not work with covering other vulnerabilities. For example, I grew used to having another pair of eyes, but soon realized that I could accomplish much more with keeping my regular human eyes and growing small sprouting spores at my joints that detected the flow of air and bursts of sudden motion. Likewise, growing armor helped, but solidifying the flesh beneath them by knitting in other kinds of muscles and plants and mushrooms made for a far more effective defense. As they also provided boosts to my size, strength, speed and flexibility. And that was before I began to test the limits of what [Spawn] could do. It turns out the skill does not necessarily need to create other forms of life that sustain themselves as any other living creature. I could also use it to make living suits of armor. Plates of bone and muscle that sustained themselves with their own cardiovascular systems and that were joined to my own with their own separate nervous systems. All while being ultimately disposable. I felt another bout of shuffling underneath us then. The dunes shifting and squirming as scorpions rose up in ambush from all directions. There must have been dozens of them there. Coming at us in concert. A small tide of chitin, stingers reared up and ready to strike. The old Cecil of two months ago would not have been able to keep up with even one of them. The current me found it all too easy. My nerves thickening in half a heartbeat. Increasing my reaction speed by leaps and bounds as two more limbs sprouted from my back. Human-like arms narrowing into long serpentine whips covered in slim, scalpel-like bones. I lashed out with them in a wide arc. Transforming my regular arms into similar instruments and waiting until others in the horde ran into my range. One swipe cleaved a scorpion in half. Dividing perfectly from above. Another sliced off three legs and took a chunk off its torso. Yet another removed the stinger mid-strike. ''Hmn? Wait a second. Could I?'' I leapt towards the fallen organ and tried to [Transform] it into myself. The magic looked as if it was taking hold, but gave out at the last second. The lingering magic fighting me until [Drain] activated instead. Then I kept killing scorpions one after the other, until none were left. Using their bodies to fuel me in that same manner and trying to mold their body parts into mine. No such luck. However, I did manage to get a better feel, for lack of a better word, in regards to the organ. Then I tried to remake it using my own body. What came out of it was a sort of, monkey tail, with a hollow fang attached to its tip. No poison though. I could not make any sense of how to make it. I did understand the principle of course. Some chemicals, like bleach or cleaning fluids, were not okay to drink, as they would mess your insides up. Animals like scorpions or spider or snakes or what have you had glands that made these chemicals. But as to how they might be copied, I had no idea. I couldn''t even locate the gland on the scorpions I killed, let alone replicate it. ''Though that could be a temporary issue. After all, I did just start experimenting.'' I shrugged and resolved to keep fighting my way through the Dungeon. Feeling more and more of my magic ebbing away as I tried different forms and different applications for organs. All the while, I kept getting this distinct feeling at the back of my neck. This incessant nagging at the corners of my mind that something was missing. That something was different from the times I had used my powers before. But try as I might, I could not pinpoint the underlying cause. So, I just kept going. Descending to the third after an hour and basking in the splendor of the plains. These were vast, open fields. Illuminated by a large crystal in the middle of the ceiling that acted as an artificial sun. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. The grasses were tall and colored in different shades of faded gold and faint greens. Acting as camouflage for the predators that lay on their bellies. Hidden with their bodies flat against the muddy soil. Most of the monsters here were lizards of some kind. Their bodies ranging from half a meter to several dozen meters in length, depending on the species. The larger ones were slow, however and they could be surprisingly stupid and insensitive as well. So they did not put much of a fight when Drew used her magic to poison them and whip them into a frenzy. Nor did they escape when Ramji used his magic to bring them under his sway. ''Meaning they are strong against physical attacks, but weak against any kind of ranged magic. That wasn''t a problem when I had my friends here with me, but it might prove troublesome, now that I''m by myself.'' I focused my magic on my eyes. Making them wider and larger in general. Allowing them to take in more light and see objects in the distance with more accuracy. That soon backfired when I made myself color-blind on accident, which lead to a round of enthusiastic cursing. Cupcake came up beside me as I spat out profanities. Her snout twitching as she drew in deep, steadying breaths. I looked at her and felt so stupid that I wanted to die of shame. ''Of course smell is the right answer Dum Dum. The grasses can''t keep the monsters'' scent hidden.'' I enlarged my nose instead. Making it so that it grew as large as a toucan''s beak. But I didn''t feel any different afterwards. The smells were more or less the same. Only, my nostrils felt cooler whenever I breathed in. I sad nothing, choosing instead to pat Cupcake on the head. My magic flowed through her again and I tried to figure out what I was doing wrong this time. "Ah." I realized with a nod of appreciation. "It''s the nerves. Or the receptors. Whatever you call them. Yours are much bigger than mine." Cupcake seemed to take that as a compliment and gave me a loving nibble. I nodded and began to change myself to fit this new mold, when another curious idea hit me. "Hey, wait a second. If I can already change all my organs, what would happen if I changed my own brain?" Cupcake said nothing. Only staring at me with that vacant, yet caring expression. "I guess I could also change your brain huh? Might make you smarter." I tried the idea on her first. Just to make sure there wasn''t a risk of making myself dumber on accident. I patted her on the head. Ruffling her fur and allowing my magic to pass into her. Willing it to gather around the inside of her head. "Okay. Do you feel any different?" I felt my magic take a turn. Gathering around her throat without me guiding it there. As if another, invisible person had come over and yanked on a part of myself. "I feel much better, friend." Cupcake answered. I blinked. She blinked. And then we both stared into each other''s eyes. "Thank you, friend." She said after a few seconds. "I feel much better now than I did before." I blinked again. She blinked again. "Uh, no problem." "I don''t want to go back to how I was." She continued. "Please let me be aware of my own existence." ''Okay. Maybe this was a bit too much change for such short a time. I should think about this kind of thing more before doing it again.'' "I want to help you. I want to be near you. I want to be your friend." I felt a pull through our connection and did not doubt her sincerity. The magic, it had done something. Made her smarter, yes. But also changed her outlook. ''Now that I think about it, I never once felt any hint of her wanting to go back to her pack. Is this an effect of my magic? Or is it an aftermath of traumatic brain injury?'' "Friend? Please let me stay by your side. I''m scared. I don''t know what I would do without you." I shook my head. Forcefully snapping myself out of a daze. "Okay! Okay! Jeez! No need to step on my heart like that!" I answered. Doing my best to push past the bewilderment despite the absurdity of the current situation. "We''ll just, tell uncle Uter you''re a rescue of something." I paused again. "Just make sure to avoid talking in fron of him and we should be okay. Also, don''t let it show that you''re actually a wolf. Or that you were a wolf. Try to act like a dog." "How do I act like a dog?" "More tail wagging and cuddling. Less play biting. I don''t mind cause my skin is more like iron these days, but I don''t thin aunt Cheryl is going to be too fond of you if you take off a few of uncle Uter''s fingers." "I understand friend! I won''t bite off human fingers!" "Good." I finished. "Glad we got that sorted out." It was as good an outcome as I could hope for, given the current circumstances. I focused on my new sense of smell once again. Picking up the location of about a dozen paralysis lizards laying on the ground. ''Right then. I guess I''ll have to risk being incapacitated, if I want to go deeper.'' Or, at least, that was what I currently thought. I looked down at my own hands, then at Cupcake''s new intelligence. Stemming from her changed brain. ''Still, do I want to risk it? Actually, do I even have to risk it?'' I recalled something I''d seen on nature documentaries. How some animals had a more flexible nervous system than humans. Octopuses, octo... octopi? Whatever. They, for one, had a distinct lack of bones and an oddly shaped brain and they were apparently one of the smartest animals on earth after humans. I also vaguely recalled reading something online about roaches having two brains, but I wasn''t completely sure it was legitimate. ''But hey, trying out a second brain sure beats messing with the one I already have!'' So, I placed my hands over my heart. Sent magic into my spine, up into my head and dragged it down between my lungs. Creating a tight little pocket for the new organ to grow. And then... Nothing happened. Nothing at all. I didn''t feel any different. Nor did I sense any obvious changes. I sighed at the failed experiment and gazed over to the high grass where the lizards thought they were hidden. ''I guess I could try something like what the beans did. Growing a lung-like organ and firing shards of bone. Or seeds.'' It was worth a shot at least. I called on my magic again and felt it... slightly less responsive. Then I let out a light gasp. Feeling a little short of breath. Then there was a tightness in my chest. As if an elephant had stepped on me all of the sudden. I collapsed and felt Cupcake rushing over to where I was. I felt her claws on me. Nudging me gently as she tried to roll me onto my back. It was there, as I struggled to breathe, that I recalled what the missing feeling had been. It was the rage. That all consuming fury that I had possessed when my core first appeared. When I had made the bears and the gorillas in that sleepy Alaskan town. I felt tingles crawling up my spine. The emotions coming in hard and fast as my vision blurred. Magic flowing out of my core in a ravaging storm that ripped at all within its path. Making my blood boil inside my veins, as the power made its way to my head.
I awoke when the boy fell asleep. Opening my eyes for the first time, to see a bubble of magic. Giving birth to new kinds of life. ''Fake.'' was my first thought. ''Weak.'' was my second. ''Slow'' was my third. I saw that everything was slow. Too slow. The other meats did not have time to think while they did anything. Their eyes could only follow one idea at a time. But that was fine. I was hungry and there was meat in front of me. That was more than acceptable. So, I walked forwards. Drawing in the life of the grasslands through my bare feet. Willing my brain to keep growing as I moved. Dedicating more and more magic and more and more flesh to redundancies. Three lumps of meat jumped at me. Mouths open. Fangs bared. I calculated where they would land. Grew needles. Pierced their skulls. I ate them. I kept moving. More meat jumped at me. I ate them. I kept moving. Larger meat slithered upwards to strike at me. I ate them. I kept moving. I descended the stairs to the fourth floor. I found poisonous meat and hard-shelled meat. I ate them. I kept moving. The loud meat tried to stop me. It bit my leg and tried to drag me back. The loud meat was in distress. I did not kill it. Or eat it. It would make the boy upset later. But I did keep moving. I found the beans on the sixth floor. I called out to them. The did not shoot me. I told them to wrap themselves around me. They did so. I touched them and gave them brains. They too awoke. I told them I was hungry and that I wanted food. They followed me and brought me food when I went down to the seventh and the eight and the ninth. I found another boy there. A girl too. Not much older than the boy I knew. They made sounds. I ignored them. I kept moving. One of them grabbed me. The boy. I took his arm off. The beans shot him. I thought about eating him. The girl was crying. The boy I knew might have cried too. I was hungry, but I fixed them. I asked the beans to help them leave. Some beans separated from me and took them. I kept going down. There was more meat on the tenth. Looking like people, but small. With conical skulls and beady eyes. A meat read my mind. Insulted the family of the boy. Tried to taunt the boy. I ate the meat. The other meats threw balls of fire at me. I dodged them. I ate them too. I was feeling halfway full, when I noticed I was tired. The boy would wake soon. I told the beans to take me up. To the boy''s house. And I let myself fall asleep. Chapter 36: Grounded. The dream was disquieting. Aunt Cheryl was there, but blurred out somehow. Her outline smudged and bent out of shape. Much like the leftover damage to overall quality old home movies suffered when the person filming them had an unsteady hand and an urgent need to pee. She had been drinking again. I could tell because the smell of her breath was overpowering, even from across the large living room. She had been crying too, if the bags under her eyes were any indication. Meanwhile, Eva was tugging at my arms. Her face pleading. "Please Cecil. Come play with me. I''ve been so sad. All by myself. I don''t want to be alone." The real Eva would never have said that. At least, I didn''t think so. She kept her feelings closed off these days. Singing along to pre-recorded shows to keep herself entertained. Only when she was alone did I hear her crying. "Yes." I told her. "I''ll stay and play with you. I''m sorry I''ve been away. I don''t know what I was thinking." Indeed. Nothing was more important than her. Than my family. I must have been mad to stay at the farm for so long. ''No. Not mad. The farm is important too. I''m saving the world.'' "Tell you what. Why don''t we go to the fields. We can play hide and seek and tag and anything else you want. You can bring your other friends too." "Dad won''t let me see them and their moms say bad things about mom. They say bad things about me too. When they think I''m not paying attention. They''re calling me a dud." The apparition sobbed. In a way to tore out chunks of my heart. ''I''ll kill them.'' My gut spoke up. ''I''ll strangle them with their own intestines.'' "Don''t listen to them." I told her instead. "We can bring my friends over instead. And Cupcake. You''ll love Cupcake. Actually, where is Cupcake?" I turned to see the room again, but found it and all the furniture oddly out of proportion. Then the house began to crumble. Vines and mushrooms and worms slithering into widening gaps as walls gave way and floorboards rotted out from underneath me. I tried to grab Eva''s hand. To flee. But she wasn''t there anymore. No one was here anymore. Then, an orchestra began to play, though it did not use any instruments I was familiar with. There were songbirds on branches and gusts of wind whistling between tightly-woven leaves. There were raindrops caressing blades of grass and tadpoles swimming through ponds. There were soft, near inaudible steps as wolves moved through the undergrowth. Those sounds grew louder and more pronounced, while also not becoming overwhelming or annoying. As if their presence were somehow fixing something about my world. Giving me back a piece of myself that I never knew was missing. When the changes finally stopped, the dream had turned into a nightmare. Half-gnawed bones littering the floor as far as the eye could see. Half-plant, half mushroom monstrosities with six eyes and too many legs skittering along the embankments like primordial horrors from the carboniferous period. Their pupils reflecting a deeply-seeded contempt for all things foreign. For any life that was not theirs. Not mine. I peered closer, into those eyes. Until I saw my own reflection staring back at me. The thing they saw me as, was not human. Not even close. It had a tiger''s head and an eagle''s wings. A crocodile''s scales and a scorpion''s tail. A goat''s horns and a raptor''s legs. ''No.'' I thought suddenly. ''Only the rearmost legs are raptor-like. There are so many of them. Cow hooves and rabbit legs and flexible tentacles ending in bony blades or spears.'' Its eyes tracked me through the reflection. Sitting eerily still, even as I began to back off. Then, all the sounds stopped. So that the silence was deafening in and of itself. Only then, did the thing in the reflection begin to move. Revealing that it was far longer than I had initially believed. Its serpentine body stretching out for dozens upon dozens of meters. I tried to breathe, but my lungs felt frozen and stiff. The air in the dream refusing to come inside of me. I should have felt afraid. Terrified, but I was no longer the usual me. I was the thing in the reflection, staring back at a thin, pale, human boy with sandy-blonde hair and trembling legs. And then the dream collapsed in on itself. There was a calm, quiet nothingness all around me. Wrapping itself over my form like a snug blanket. I felt tired. More tired than I''d felt in weeks. More tired than I had ever felt since getting my core. It was as if I''d been bled dry and left to shrivel under the desert sun. My skin feeling wrinkly and dehydrated as I lay on my bed. ''Wait, is this my bed? It feels more like... soil.'' I opened my eyes. Finding the endeavor more taxing than it had any right to be. My muscles aching and my eyelids coaxing me to stay still and rest for a few more hours. Or a few more days. I was about to give in to the temptation. Thinking about how good it would feel to drift back into slumber. When I felt a slight poke at my side. "Cecil! Please don''t die!" My eyes shot open then. My body jerking upright as my eyes searched for Eva. She was right there beside me. Bawling her eyes out. All while trying and failing to hug me. Her little arms being far, far too small to envelop half of me. Also, she was surrounded by what I could only describe as the collective nightmares a practical effects crew might have if they were all hopped up on paint fumes and bath salts. They were half-ant, half-spider monstrosities the size of bears. With inhuman approximations of hands attached to stunted, protruding torsos above their heads and mandibles and tentacles that ended in savage scything claws erupting on either sides of their spines. Yet that would not have been quite so disturbing by itself. What truly made the scene a horror show was the sheer weight of numbers. Even at a glance, there had to have been thousands. Stretching in all directions and surrounding our house like a tide of pale pink flesh intermingled with stained vines and visceral fugal growths. All of them stood there. Still as statues. Unmoving. Unblinking. Waiting for orders that were not forthcoming. And in their midst, was a pair of middle-aged human beings. Unholy fury burning in their bloodshot eyes.
"Of all the stupid! Brain-addled! Imbecilic! Thoughtless! Lack-witted! Bullshit!" Uncle Uter kept going. His face redder than the apples I''d been growing yesterday. I glanced over at Eva. Still crying as she held on to me. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. "Uncle, language..." "Fuck your language!" He roared. Somehow growing even redder. His face puffing up like one of those tropical birds looking for a mate. All while he flailed his arms like a drunken tightrope walker about to have a very unfortunate reunion with the ground. His fat index finger threatening to pierce the heavens themselves and all that stood in between. "What the fucking shit is this Cecil!? Why is our house surrounded by motherfucking monsters straight out of Guillermo del Toro''s rotting asshole!?" Now that... Was an excellent question. One I could only vaguely guess at. On the one hand, I could sense all of them, much in the same way that I could sense Cupcake. Who, as it happened, was curled up next to Eva. Meaning I must have made them. At some point. Somehow. This theory of mine was supported by the fact that they had not immediately turned my family into large stains of chunky salsa in the time that I was unconscious. Which might mean they knew enough about me and mine to leave them alone. Also, a closer inspection revealed that roughly half of them had fewer tentacles than the rest. The limbs replaced by a pair of shoulder-mounted green-bean rifles. As if that weren''t enough, I could still feel traces of my own magic inside of them and they twitched when I reached out with what little juice I had left. Almost as if waiting for orders. On the other hand... I genuinely had no clue as to what the fuck was going on. One moment, I had been on the third, experimenting with added brain matter. Then I was here. Witnessing the wrath of a man who had never been particularly wrathful before. "I, don''t know." I answered honestly. "YOU DON''T KNOW!!!!???" Uncle Uter asked, calmly. And just like that, his face went from a ripe, vibrant red, to a deep, unhealthy purple. His eyes growing a deep supernatural crimson that threatened to overflow into literal crimson tears. His blood pressure clearly entering ranges that should not have been humanly possible. Until I could almost see clouds of steam coming out of his ears. "CECIL!!!!" He started up again. "First! You disappear for days at a time! Then! You don''t come back after that ape Russell said you''d be home!! Then!!! You go down into the murder-pit by yourself!!!" He paused to catch his breath "BY YOURSELF!!!! THEN!!! YOU!!! YOU!!!!! YOU DAGNABBIT GOSHDARNED DFFFFBERFEFDFFDDFHASDFDDFTRSBRF!!!" He said, calmly. Channeling the spirit of some long-dead pharaoh or something. Whatever that had been, it hadn''t been English. Then he paused to catch his breath again. "YOUSRFRDFEEEFF!!! GRRRRROOOOOUUUUNDDEEEFDFDTFFTDTFD!!!" "Uncle, I... I don''t think those are words." "I MADE MYSELF PERFECTLY CLEAR!!!" He lied, calmly. "YOU''RE GROUNDED FOREVEEEERRR!!!!"
My first day in confinement was spent in quiet contemplation. Uncle Uter had taken my computer away so there wasn''t much in the way of things I could do to pass the time. So, I spent hours looking at my Analyzer. Wondering just what had happened in the time I had lost. [Vitality: 7.9 -> 10.1 (Over 12 hours.) - (Monster hunting - estimated 7439 specimens killed directly. Experimentation with skills. Enduring physical damage. Enduring toxic damage. Enduring burning damage. Enduring freezing damage. Enduring shocking damage. Enduring psychic damage. Enduring curse damage. Repeated usage of regeneration. Repeated stemming of hemorrhaging. Extreme and repeated instances of continuous physical stress. Extreme semi-permanent mutations to muscular system. Extreme semi-permanent mutations to skeletal system. Extreme semi-permanent mutations to nervous system. Error - unusual changes detected - please see manufacturer and / or hospital staff.)] [Endurance: 7.7 -> 9.9 (Over 12 hours.) - (Monster hunting - estimated 7439 specimens killed directly. Experimentation with skills. Enduring physical damage. Enduring toxic damage. Enduring burning damage. Enduring freezing damage. Enduring shocking damage. Enduring psychic damage. Enduring curse damage. Repeated usage of regeneration. Repeated stemming of hemorrhaging. Extreme and repeated instances of continuous physical stress. Extreme semi-permanent mutations to muscular system. Extreme semi-permanent mutations to skeletal system. Extreme semi-permanent mutations to nervous system.)] [Potency: 5.1 -> 8.1 (Over 12 hours.) - (Monster hunting - estimated 7439 specimens killed directly. Experimentation with skills. Extreme and repeated instances of continuous physical stress. Extreme semi-permanent mutations to muscular system. Extreme semi-permanent mutations to skeletal system. Extreme semi-permanent mutations to nervous system. Error - unusual changes detected - please see manufacturer and / or hospital staff.)] [Precision: 5.2 -> 7.9 (Over 12 hours.) - (Monster hunting - estimated 7439 specimens killed directly. Experimentation with skills. Extreme and repeated instances of continuous physical stress. Extreme semi-permanent mutations to muscular system. Extreme semi-permanent mutations to skeletal system. Extreme semi-permanent mutations to nervous system. Error - unusual changes detected - please see manufacturer and / or hospital staff.)] [Fortitude: 7 -> 9.3 (Over 12 hours.) - (Monster hunting - estimated 7439 specimens killed directly. Experimentation with skills. Enduring physical damage. Enduring toxic damage. Enduring burning damage. Enduring freezing damage. Enduring shocking damage. Enduring psychic damage. Enduring curse damage. Repeated usage of regeneration. Repeated stemming of hemorrhaging. Extreme and repeated instances of continuous physical stress. Extreme semi-permanent mutations to muscular system. Extreme semi-permanent mutations to skeletal system. Extreme semi-permanent mutations to nervous system. Error - unusual changes detected - please see manufacturer and / or hospital staff.)]
Name: Cecil Fowler
Core: [Life] (7th Stage) / Gains skills from: [Adaptation] / [Constitution] / [Healing] / [Hunger] / [Effort] / [Animal] / [Plant]
Level: 1
Vitality: 10.1
Endurance: 9.9
Potency: 8.1
Precision: 7.9
Fortitude: 9.3
Skills: [Drain] / [Perseverance] / [Heal] / [Transform] / [Spawn] / [Terraform] / [Over-Mind] / [??? - Error - please see manufacturer] / [??? - Error - please see manufacturer]
Now, the sudden jump in stats was suspicious. The error messages were likewise very alarming. But the explanations the bracelet gave me? Those were absolutely horrifying. From the sounds of it, it was as if I''d recently survived a crash-course through a few dozen gulags in quick succession. If it was even the slightest bit accurate, then I had just been bludgeoned, mauled, stabbed, cut open, electrocuted, frozen, set on fire, poisoned and cursed, whatever that meant. All within the span of a single night. All while apparently running a marathon of such proportions that it rivaled Terry Fox himself; while also going on an unbelievable homicidal rampage throughout a fair few floors of the Dungeon. To say that I was suspicious would be like saying that Austrians too rejection from art school poorly. And yet, I could not for the life of me recall what the fuck I''d been doing. Nor could I ask Cupcake as, apparently, she''d hit it off with Eva. Providing some much needed emotional support and following her around everywhere. Which meant she wasn''t currently in the house. ''Though that''s probably for the better. She needs the support more than I do. I''m glad she''s taken a liking to Cupcake.'' I heard a series of grunts and strikes then. Which led to me poking my head out the window. Which led to me gaping at uncle Uter as he took an axe to my monsters. He was struggling at first, but he soon got into a nice rhythm. The head of the weapon finding the heads of the monsters with unerring precision. Granted, they weren''t moving or reacting in any way, but still... It was a far cry from the man I knew. Never had I seen this rage in him. Never had I dreamed that it could blow over into anything other than a verbal lashing. He was putting his whole back into the extermination. Despite how hard the natural armor he was striking was. I had expected him to get winded after putting down a couple. I was wrong. He was sweating bullets and wheezing in a very porcine manner. His shirt sticking to his chest like a wet rag as more and more moisture gathered onto it. But he did not stop. He never stopped. For minutes, then tens of minutes and then hours. In all honesty, he looked kind of badass doing it too. His arm never stopping, despite chopping off hundreds upon hundreds of heads. So that he ended up looking like some Greek hero out of legend. Lawnmowercules or hedge-clippercules or something. Problem was, they regenerated from those hits. Even the ones that seemed to be absolutely fatal. The affected unit would drop down as soon as my uncle had finished with it and then it would sit still and cover itself with another layer of leaves. Its efforts going towards some kind of advanced photosynthesis while its roots dug deep into the earth. Within an hour, any given critter would be back as if nothing had happened. If he went to the trouble of cutting them in half or crushing their bones into paste, then they tended to duplicate on top of that. Each half regrowing a whole new half for itself. Uncle Uter did not relent. He came back with a chainsaw on the second day. Its teeth glinting prettily in the sunlight. Again, he went to town on the monsters that hadn''t moved an inch. Again they showed no resistance. Again it was all for nothing. I ended up waiting away the hours on my bed. Only checking up on him on the odd occasion that the sounds faded for a minute or two. Aside from that, I practiced more with my [Spawn] ability. Managing to create winged, buzzing plants that resembled giant hornets, after I set a goal to myself. I had been trying to make birds like eagles, but this was fine too. Uncle Uter came back again on the third day. With a flamethrower of all things. It seemed to work at first, but the monsters soon proved less flammable than he would have liked. Their outer shells hardened without my input. Going into some kind of suspended animation as their hides thickened and they began to draw more water from the earth through newly grown and enlarged roots. Within 30 minutes, he was back to the axe. Which was a shame, because it ended up breaking soon thereafter. The axe head snapping clean off and flying sideways until it lodged itself in a nearby tree. Leading my uncle to bellow something along the lines of: "OYAWAWACELLULALAU!!! UWAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!" His eyes were bloodshot once again. His mouth open so wide that I could see his tongue moving in the air like some primordial pink worm reaching for the sky. He bent his spine backwards as he screamed out his lungs. Until I heard a resounding crack that echoed through all the surrounding woods. Then he let loose a faint, "Egh!" That nonetheless carried over to me. Then he bent forwards and wheezed. His trembling hands clasping is knees. Then he went right back to it. Only this time using a shovel, instead of an axe. Now, I thought this was actually a fantastic development, as he likely got more training and stat points from these last three days than from the last two weeks of relatively relaxed Dungeon delving. This was especially convenient because, unlike the beans, I could control these guys down to the most minute of movements with next to no effort. Meaning he wouldn''t have to worry about getting munched on while grinding out improvements to his body. Sadly, he didn''t seem to share my enthusiasm. Chapter 37: The Other Side of The World. "OYAWAWACELLULALAU!!! UWAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!" Uncle Uter said calmly, as the two men wheeled him away on the stretcher. He was trying to flee. To rip off the belts and restraints. Though, I couldn''t say whether he meant to stay with us or go back to whacking my monsters over the head. It was honestly a coin toss at that point. Aunt Cheryl really should have been here to protest, but she was currently passed out on the couch. Too many milkshakes for her own good. Which left me, Eva and Cupcake to watch the whole thing. She sobbed a little. Her tiny arms wrapped around my hips as she buried her head in my stomach. I patted her head while Cupcake snuggled up against her own leg. The two men loaded Uncle Uter onto an ambulance after that. The doors closing tightly before the vehicle sped away. Then Mr. Robertson came over. Looking abashed. "Don''t you worry yourselves for a second kids. I am certain he will be A-okay." The lie came easily to his lips. So much so that I almost believed him myself. Regardless, it would serve to calm Eva down, and for that, I was grateful. "Right then. Go play with Cupcake, Eva. I''ll stay here and talk things out with Mr. Robertson. We''ll go visit him in the hospital later." Eva nodded without saying another word. Cupcake trailing behind her in husky form. I waited until she was far, far out of earshot. Then and only then did I allow my mask to drop. "So?" I started. "Is he going to be okay?" "Of course!" Mr. Robertson assured me. "Honestly Cecil. You shouldn''t be so judgmental of your uncle. So what if he had a little psychotic breakdown? It happens to everyone at some point or another. Especially when monsters and magic are involved. Cut your uncle some slack, as the kids would say. This isn''t the fifties. Men are allowed to have mental health episodes without being sent to the loony bin." "OYAWAWACELLULALAU!!! UWAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!" I heard from out in the distance. "Why, I remember the first time I realized magic was real. Me and a team of very dangerous men with very big guns were in charge of investigating some guy who claimed to be a genie of all things. Don''t ask. He was out of his mind. Anyway, to make a long story short, I saw the man levitate a few feet off the ground and I nearly had a stroke!" We heard another cry then, but it was so muffled by distance that it was hard to make out, even with magically-enhanced senses. Mr. Robertson looked over to where the ambulance had gone. Whistling in faux-appreciation. "My, but he does have a set of lungs on him. I do think he missed his calling. He should have been an opera singer or a drill instructor. Those talents are wasted on a clerk who happens to do logistics." "Is he going to be okay?" I repeated. With more intensity this time. Mr. Robertson scoffed. Then he waved away my concern in an annoyingly casual manner. "He''ll be FINE Cecil. I keep telling you that this is normal but for some reason you keep refusing to believe me." "It''s not normal for my uncle." "Yeah? So? He has a lot on his mind. What with the looming possibility of a bad core, the rigors of getting your produce past the FDA and its equivalents, him being more or less isolated in a social sense, your aunt''s decline and many other grown-up concerns." He shrugged then. Releasing a deep breath. "My engagement proposals couldn''t have helped matters either. I think he''s of the opinion that I was pushing some boundaries." I blinked. "Your what!?" "Engagement proposals." Mr. Robertson repeated. "For you. I mean. Elsie likes you and you kids are about the age where we grown ups make arrangements for your futures. It''ll be especially important for you since you''ve got such an outstanding core. Truly, I cannot put into words how incredible these feats of magic are Cecil. My expectations have been blown completely out of the water. It would be such a waste if you remained single." I hacked out a cough. Which felt like pushing out a pair of lungs through my mouth and nostrils. "I''m fourteen!" ''And I don''t like your bratty, bullying great-granddaughter.'' Went unsaid, but it was just as important. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Mr. Robertson, no. The senile old man, waved off my complaints once more. "So? I was engaged when I was twelve! Though I did end up meeting and marrying the love of my life in Korea; but that''s beside the point. We do things the old fashioned way here in Dunstonberry. Just to make sure we''re getting good pairings for the next generation and no good core ends up dying out." My eyes bulged out to size of party balloons. All while my mouth dropped open like the snout of a gargoyle. "We have to get involved like this, because our long-term goal is the preservation of the human species. Some cores as just too good to remain in some insular family with only one or two kids, or worse, a relationship that doesn''t result in children. Why, just look at Casper! How did you think he came to have so many half-brothers and sisters? Teleportation is just too good to pass up! It''s so versatile it''s almost as good as your own magic!" ''He''s insane.'' I realized with a start. ''The paramedics took away the wrong guy. This loon isn''t yelling out nonsense, but he''s twice as crazy as my uncle is. Wait. Wait a second. Is this the reason why he had those awkward talks with me!? Because this loon was pushing a marriage on us!?'' "Engagement. Not marriage." The loon corrected. "Also, please recall that I can read your mind. I would appreciate it if you didn''t refer to me as a loon. I''m perfectly sane." "People who are perfectly sane don''t need to remind others that they''re sane." He barked out a laugh. Shaking until his twig-like frame vibrated. His errant puffs of sparse white hair bobbing up and down like a wig that was seconds away from falling. "Fair enough I guess! Though you really should consider Elsie more closely. She''s smart, she''s pretty, she''s got a lovely voice and she''s already level 3 at your age! She''s one of, if not the hardest working youngster of your generation. Perhaps even outshining your own efforts. Besides that she''s sensitive..." I had to rein in the urge to vomit at flagrant disregard for the truth. "It is so the truth! She is a lovely young woman. She can play the piano, she writes poetry, she paints." He stopped for one blessed second. "I know I said this already but she is really, seriously smart. While you''re out here about to enter the 9th grade, she''s doing university level calculus with ease. She is positively brilliant. With a strong sense of justice and a whole lot on integrity to boot. She might be a bit playful and maybe a little mean on occasion, but that''s just because she''s young and she has a crush on you. Besides that, she loves the outdoors as much as you do, she can cook, she can clean, she can do the laundry." "I can cook." I rebutted. Aghast that this conversation was dragging on. "And I can also clean and do laundry! I got hands don''t I?" The loon had the sheer fucking nerve to look condescending. "Perhaps it''s my old age showing. I forget how much more flexible you youngsters are when it comes to family roles. Back in my day, people would call you all kinds of things if you were that open-minded." ''I''ll bet.'' I thought with a start. Doing mental gymnastics to figure out what else this crazy person might think of as normal. "The point is, Cecil, that your magic was already invaluable before you managed this. But now..." He waved his arms about. "Not only did you make thousands of monsters, all of whom have a substantial amount of stopping power, but you also maintained a perfect degree of control over all of them! Without exception! You even got them to finish harvesting the fields you made! Down to the last vegetable!" That was news to me. Though I guessed it was a silver lining to all this. "And besides that, you turned the first few floors and the area surrounding the Dungeon into another massive field that constantly produces food. While also having that harvested! Without the slightest hint of aggression or truculence from your minions. And...!" He was yelling more loudly now. To the point where I was backing off. "You did all of that while discovering two new, as of yet unknown skills that your Analyzer couldn''t make heads or tails of. While also bending several floors of the Dungeon to be under your total and unquestioned control. Why, you''ve been popping out monsters by the hundreds with every passing hour and they all head right to work without you being there!" That was also news to me. Which made me even more worried. "Add in the food production and your ability to heal beyond what others of your level could ever dream of and there is no question as to how valuable your core is to us." I made a mental note that he''d mentioned my core, instead of me as a person, before moving on. "No. Cecil. We simply cannot allow you to be wasted here any longer. It is time you took the bull by the horns and took charge of your future." "By marrying into your family." I clarified. "It doesn''t have to be Elsie if you''re that against it." He rebutted. "There are plenty of pretty girls in town. I recall that Russell also proposed his own daughter to your uncle. She would do." I thought of coach Russell taking me by the arm as we worked the fields. Calling me son-in-law and making jokes at my expense. Asking me when he would have grandkids. It was all I could do not to faint from the wave of insurmountable terror and poorly concealed disgust that gripped my heart. "But we can get to that later. Right now I have a special project that you''ll be helping me with. As the master of your very own Dungeon!" Memories of Alaska brought me out of my stupor. "Are we going back to the states?" "No! Heavens no! That was only a test run! A very successful test run that I would like to repeat some other time, but that''s not what I''m talking about." He wrapped a gangly limb around me. Instantly making me as uncomfortable as a pigeon in a nest of vipers. "You my friend, are going across the world! Past the great blue sea! To North Korea!"
I did not know what the young girl was saying. Though, taking into account the way her ribs poked out of her thin, dirty rags, then I was pretty sure she was saying something along the lines of: ''The bad old man starved me for shits and giggles. I''m very hungry. Please feed me. Please call social services and if, possible, Interpol.'' Also, she and the others kept calling me Conan for some reason. Unless that word meant something in their language. "You know, for someone who doesn''t speak Korean, you came very close." The loon said from the side. "As for why they''re calling you Conan, well. They don''t get too many movies around these parts and you are a dead-ringer for the 1982 movie version. What with all the muscles and you having more or less the same hair and facial structure. Only your hair is natural and not a wig. That and you actually might be taller and bigger, overall." He then pointed at the girl in front of me. "Her family was actually sent to a camp for distributing foreign movies so it fits that she calls you that. The others probably picked it up from her." "She looks nine." I forced myself to say. "She should be in school.... what? What did you put her through?" "Okay, first of all. That is very hurtful Cecil. I didn''t put her through anything. The government here did. On the contrary, I brought her here to be fed and clothed. By you." "So you could send her to the Dungeon that''s about to spring up." I wheezed. Voice trembling with emotion. "Also, she''s not nine. She''s one year older than you. What you see is the result of chronic malnourishment." He slapped my back. Hard. "So, you better get a move on and show your stuff! Casper is bringing your monsters here as we speak! So your new charges had better be ready to fight for their food if they know what''s good for them! I tell you now Cecil! We''ll get late-stage cores out of all of them!" Chapter 38: New Kinds of Life. ''How did this happen? I just wanted to help people. Actually, scratch that. I just wanted to have a good few years in some town out in the boonies after uncle Uter got his new job. How did that turn into this?'' First, it was all about getting stronger for the sake of me and my family. Then, it was about slowly spreading the use of magic through clandestine pseudo-dungeons for people to get basic cores in. Then, it was about helping to prepare my family for magic by growing harmless things for them to fight. Then, it was about growing enough food to keep the poor people of the world from starving. All of them objectively good goals to have from my point of view. ''So how did they lead me here? How did I end up standing in front of a bunch of concentration camp victims and helping some crazy codger to make them fight for food?'' I was a mystery. All of my other goals seemed good. The kind of stuff I would normally want to do. After all, who wouldn''t want to feed the needy if they could? But making them fight monsters for food? On the behalf of some billionaire boomer and his secret society? That didn''t sound like me at all. That sounded like something your average comic book hero would be trying to stop. Yet here I was. Doing it anyway. Because at the end of the day all the reasons I was given were logical and I couldn''t find a counterargument for them. It was true that these people needed to be stronger if they wanted to survive the monsters. It was true that making them fight now would make their survival a whole lot more likely in the future. It was true that merely feeding them now was kicking the can down the line and not really solving anything. Especially when they could potentially get the power they needed to run to freedom from what I was doing. Or maybe even the power to overthrow their dictatorship. And still... Looking at the crowd arranged in front of me brought on a whole host of conflicting emotions. On the one hand, I was thrilled that these people finally had something to put in their mouths. On the other hand, well. They looked very thrilled to be here too. As in REALLY thrilled. Their eyes tracking me and my every movement as I meandered about. Almost as if they imagined I was some kind of wild fey creature that would vanish in a puff of smoke the instant they looked away. Or worse, demand payment in the form of their first-born children. It felt unsettling. Especially when almost none of them were breathing properly. Their hands grabbing out for more mangoes and bananas before they finished swallowing their current bite. ''And the stares they gave me when I put my hands on the ground and grew the plants....'' It was as if they thought I was made of gold. Or really expensive chocolate. Even now, a part of me warned against turning my back to them. Lest an inquisitive individual take a bite or three. I felt a rush of magic then and turned to see hundreds of my monsters standing by Casper and the loon. All meandering about and waiting for orders. "Right then." The loon in question started. "The new Dungeon should be popping out within a week. In roughly this general area. Your job is to keep coming back, day after day and get our new friends used to the way things will work out from now on. If they fight and they fight well, they get to eat as much as they want. No restrictions. If they don''t fight the monsters you''ll keep making, then they won''t eat and they risk getting sent back to the... uh..." "The camps?" I offered. "Their previous accommodations." The loon finished. "Also, I brought in a great many other seeds from all kinds of plants. Brought you some mushrooms too, so you can get to doing what you do best. For today, I think we''ll stick with hollowing out a practice Dungeon from this hill we''re standing on. Your buddies here should be able to get it done within a couple hours, given how efficiently they work. After that, we''ll have our first sparing session and then they get another meal. Then they should rest up for tomorrow. Given how nutritious your food is, they should be more or less ready to do some heavy exercising by then." "You''re a monster." I said. Really not caring about my current circumstances beyond that point. "What makes you think I''ll listen to a word you have to say? What''s stopping me from just feeding these people as much food as they can eat?" "Nothing!" The loon answered cheerily. "But it will mean that these 450-ish people from three different camps are all the difference you will be making here. When you could have saved thousands or tens of thousands within half a year, if we stuck by my plan. Also, you''ll be robbing them of cores that they will later be able to use to defend their homeland, their lives, their families and humanity in general. So you''ll be crippling their future and pretty much guaranteeing their deaths by not following my plan." You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. He paused to let the reality set in. Then he shrugged theatrically. "But hey, you do you I guess. I can''t really tell you what to do now can I?" I said nothing, but continued to focus my magic on the poor soil beneath my feet. Calling out with my mind to command the monsters as I did so.
The pit was indeed hollowed out within a few hours. My creations having no need for rest or relaxation. The tunnel took a bit longer than that, but only because I was trying to make it as wide as possible while also building in plenty of support pillars that would keep the whole thing from crumbling at the first sign of stress. I called it a tunnel but it was really a series of passages that were interconnected by larger, circular chambers. If I had to compare it to a video game it would be like the most uninspired level in a dungeon crawler. Merely a series of rooms with a bunch of monsters stationed outside and within them. The central circular chambers were roughly 50 meters in diameter and 3 and a half meters tall. While they were similar in height, the corridors ranged from 5 to 3 meters in length from wall to wall. The idea being that each person that made it underground should be fighting and training without having to worry about the chances of being trampled underfoot by a mob. Halfway through the project''s completion it struck me how much effort I was putting into an affair that I emotionally disagreed with. Then I realized that, despite my misgivings, I was determined to do right by these people. Or at least, to do as much as I could given the circumstances. To that end I stationed half of the roughly two-hundred drone monsters I''d created outside the actual Dungeon. With the express purpose to serve as tests for those who might wish to come in. They weren''t supposed to attack anyone. Rather, I wanted them to merely bar the way for as long as they were conscious. We weren''t rushing the process of them getting cores as we had back in Alaska; So this much should be okay until the real deal manifested a week later. ''Uncle Uter spent days crushing them and burning them and then hacking them open with the side of the shovel and his improvement was astounding. Which means that this first line of defense should be training enough for people on the brink of starvation.'' Nevertheless, I had an inkling that the loon or coach Russell might take offense to a ''Lazy'' job. So, I also pushed my magic into some rose, sunflower and tulips seeds. Making them grow to supernatural proportions so that they covered most of the actual entrance, the length of the first tunnel and the subsequent first circular dome. It served several purposes from my point of view. Firstly, it smelled nice and I''d been working for hours under the baking hot sun. Secondly, it created a whole mess of tangled underbrush that no normal human would be able to sprint through. Anyone trying to make their way deeper into the cavern would need to tread carefully and slowly, thus making sure that everyone kept a steady pace as they advanced. Whatever thorns the flowers might have had were purposely blunted, so it wouldn''t be too hazardous. Merely inconvenient. Lastly, I found that I had a lot more control over the finer details of the monster''s minds now than I did before. Same with their bodies. To the point where I successfully managed to create three different brands of relatively weak punching bags for the crowd above. All with different builds and the actual flowering organ where their faces should have been. The roses where thin and small. With narrow limbs and long, dexterous fingers. They did not have eyes, so much as they had several pairs of ears and their slender frames and quick feet-like appendages let them scurry in and out of the thick foliage with ease. The idea being that it would help the people to train their accuracy and perception, as well as their stamina as they kept trying to hit them. The sunflowers were large, clumsy, barrel-bodied brutes. With all the grace and subtlety of a inebriated hippo trying to make its way through a lamp store. They were slow too and almost as deaf as they were blind. With thick cords of plant and fungal matter intermixed to create a soft, yet solid layer of padded armor around all of its limbs and torso. Each one stood at two meters when standing tall, but I had also added an extra third leg where a tail might have been, so that it couldn''t be easily toppled over when struck. I was planning for it to be struck many, many times in quick succession, so that part was key. The idea was that they would form up into lines and try to push the people out. That''s it. Nothing more. Just plain old pushing. That way, they could train up their muscles and, well, grow some new ones. Meanwhile, the tulips were designed to be as human-like as possible. With flexible arms, moderate builds and excellent sensory abilities from their eyes, ears and noses. The tricky part was their lower halves, which I had fashioned into serpentine forms. Kind of like how lamia''s looked. While their tops were flexible and accurate, their bottoms were thick and sturdy. Able to slither in and out of the brush and foliage with impunity while also resisting any attempts at being toppled. To top things off I also gave them a greater degree of intelligence and a weapon in the form of a quarterstaff for each one. "Okay. One more time. From the top. When the people come down you..." "Hit them in their arms or legs. Not the chest or their heads." Five of them echoed. Glossy eye organs glowing in the darkness. "Good. If you see one fall over, you..." "Stop hitting them and let them get up." "Good. If you see one bleeding or one that has a broken bone, you..." "Retreat and let the rest of the group carry them back to the surface." "Good!" I finished. "Good good good! Great! I think we might have worked out something here. Right then. Get ready for the first wave. I''ll just be upstairs." I looked around the place one last time before leaving. The echoes of working drones digging deeper into the earth still audible from this far up. "Actually, on second thought. I think I''ll use those oak seeds before I go. The pillars I first dug up don''t seem to steady, now that I take in how big the rooms are and how we''re still digging." I descended through the shadows. Walking with confidence as my sense for life guided my steps. At the lowest level, some five floors down, I planted several seeds some five meters apart. When I allowed my magic to flow into them, they broke open the hardened earth around them and started to spread outwards. Their roots clawing hungrily at the stones that surrounded them. More magic allowed the changes to speed up. For their trunks to begin forming and heading for the surface. I saw the thick pillars breaching the fourth floor. Then the third. Then the second. Until I felt the new creature''s leaves tasting sunlight for the first time. Then they kept going and going and going. Past the height of most commercial buildings. By the time I drew back, the trunks were so thick that they were pushing up against each other. Like siblings trying to shove the weakest members of the family away from an ice-cream truck. "Right then." I said with some exasperation. "Gonna need to dig deeper tunnels and make the rooms bigger now. But that''s okay. At least each floor has their own set of roots. I can''t imagine them collapsing at this point." Indeed the roots looked more like a series of tangled-up tentacles to my supernatural senses. Gripping their surroundings with a stranglehold so mighty that not a single pebble seemed likely to escape. With that small success under my belt, I ascended to find my new charges. Eager to see how they would do and glad that I could make a positive difference in their lives. Chapter 39: Flawed Design. I stood there. Mouth agape and eyes wide open. Watching the 450 or so starving people throwing themselves at the line of drones in huge, human waves. Hands and feet scrambling for purchase as they tore and bit and clawed their way closer and closer to the entrance that led down to the tunnels. Their ferocity such a wonder to behold that I could not tell which side was supposed to be comprised of humans and which one contained monsters. One side was rushing at the other with blind fanaticism and the other... Were my monsters. Standing there with vacant expressions as I''d commanded. Not caring that their eyeballs were being clawed out with bare hands. They... the humans that is, were not making much in the way of progress. Worse, I could see trails and stains of crimson red from where arms had been broken and fingernails had come off. Those behind the front lines pushing and shoving their way forward with wild abandon. "Stop!" I yelled. "Stop it! All of you back off!" They stopped to look at me, but not in way that showed their understanding. Instead, they looked at me as if I were some little green man descended from outer space. With red lipstick on my face, a little hover-scooter beneath my feet and a ray-gun in my hand. I approached regardless. Waving my arms to steer them away and healing anyone I came across. That seemed to get through to them. Their own eyes widening in response to wounds closing by themselves at my touch. Then, in the span of single blink, the tide turned. Half of them swarmed me. Clasping their hands around my form and pleading on togues I could not understand. I sucked in a breath at that. Digging my heels to the ground so as to brace myself. The motion bought me a second or two of breathing room, before the sheer weight of numbers made itself known. I was being pushed back and the people clinging to me were being pressed into pancakes the more I tried to remain upright. My mind whirled with motion as I came up with a plan. My feet transforming into thick deep roots and delving into the rocky, infertile soil with a vengeance. All while my legs and back hardened into bark. From there, I spread them between the lines of people. Tangling them and protecting the heads and torsos of those who had tripped. The crowd pushed again. Harder and harder. But they could not move me anymore. I planned to wait until they''d calmed down, but the ones in the back were still pushing forward. Still crushing the ones sticking to me. The stick-thin girl among their number. I cursed inwardly and marshalled my magic reserves for one large spell. In the span of a single breath, the earth itself had opened up beneath them. More of my roots erupting from the ground in a wide area and wrapping themselves around heels and ankles before snaking up legs and pulling their captured targets upwards. I looked up at them and heaved a sigh. Watching as they kept wailing. Wondering just how everything had gone so wrong, so quickly. "Well, what did you expect?" Mr. Robertson said, coming out from nowhere. "You show a few hundred starving people food growing out of nowhere. Food that, by the way, tastes much better than anything else they''ve eaten in their lives. And then you tell them that this food, and by extension their place in this new field, is contingent on them beating up your monsters. Of course they''re going to be enthusiastic." "But I didn''t tell them anything! You did! I can''t even speak Korean!" "Cecil, Cecil... there''s no need to throw blame around." Mr. Robertson said. Looking at me with eyes full of gentleness and condescension. "Let''s just agree that we are both at fault and forget about this little incident." I was so flabbergasted by the blatant lies that I missed my chance to speak. In that timeframe, he had begun speaking to the crowd once more. Pointing towards the now empty field and gesturing wildly in its general direction. Then he started speaking in a manner that suggested he was asking questions. Until the girl in the crowd started speaking back. "Right Cecil. Let these people down and refill the fields with crops. A lot more this time. Most of the people here will be busy harvesting while groups of six take turns going down into the Dungeon." "Why? My drones can do all the manual labor. Wouldn''t it be better to get them used to fighting monsters?" He looked me dead in the eye. "Do you think they''re in any condition to learn how to fight? Wouldn''t it be better, kinder even, to allow them to fill their bellies and build up some proper muscle before trying to teach them anything else? Think back to all the progress you made with Russell before going back down into the Dungeon. Then think about how much you gained from working in your own farm. Doesn''t that seem smarter?" The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. "Then why do the false Dungeon at all?" "Because they need a minimum of basic training and they need to get used to overcoming their fears Cecil." Mr. Robertson explained, as if I were a dullard. "I mean, just think about how you reacted when you first found the Rippers." "I just saw then tearing drones apart with their teeth!" "Which tells us the whole courage thing was a non-issue. I guess I underestimated their desperation. That is good. It means they''re more open to new ideas. Now we know. And knowing is half the battle." He waged his forefinger at me in a condescending manner. "So, we''ll be sending small groups to get some practice. With weapons this time. I would provide them but I think you could do a better job of growing spear-shaped plants. Even if you can''t, I want to see you explore that aspect of your magic. I think you could do it very well if you apply yourself. The rest will stay up here and help your drones with farm work. We''ll be needing a few hundred trucks by the end of the week so you and your new charges had better start doing some harvesting! Also, you will need a way to talk to the people here while I''m away. Recall the movie trafficker? She will be your translator from now on. She doesn''t speak much English but I suspect it will be enough." I willed the roots to let them down and detached most of the growths from my legs. "Okay. That works for me. What''s her name?" "Shortround." Mr. Robertson answered at once. "Haha." I bit back. My mood souring further. "What''s her real name?" "I told you, Shortround." "I''m serious Mr. Robertson." "So am I. Here, I''ll get her to tell you." He began speaking in Korean again. Addressing the girl while the newly-released people got their bearings. Then the girl turned to me and addressed me in English so broken it sounded like a whole other language. "Hello. Me name is Shortround. I speak English good. I speak Korean good. Please give me food. Please don''t throw away. Me very useful Mr. Conan." "You made her say that!" But Mr. Robertson was gone. Taken away by Casper in a rush of displaced air.
The next few hours were far calmer by comparison. I grew more and more food and watched as the people in front of me picked it up. Their limbs a blur as they swung sickles of sharpened plant matter at the fruit trees I''d grown. They were eating one fruit out of every five. But even with their consumption, the trucks were being filled at an astonishing rate as the drones I had on the surface also chipped in. Curiously, I noted that a few of them were eating more than the others. A lot more in fact. Yet they didn''t seem satisfied or bloated in any way. Which was rather strange when I thought back to my old standards of normality. The old Cecil would have been more or less full after eating two apples. Though I had known some chubbier kids who could down much more than that in one sitting. These people had gone far above even those extreme examples however. All without going to the washroom once. None of their previous lethargy was visible now. Almost as if they had all been possessed at once by some malevolent spirit. On closer inspection, their limbs were somehow fuller as well. Despite them having been starved to the point of near-death prior to meeting me. ''What happened to them in that short time? Is it the effect of the food I grow? Some kind of steroid-like deal?'' I hoped that wasn''t the case, but in all honesty it wouldn''t have surprised me that much. Still, I was happy that they were getting something out of this. It meant that I really was making some sort of difference. While also growing more crops to feed more people and.... I froze in place. A bolt of lightning running up my spine as nervous sweat gathered on my brow. My eyes almost popping out of my skull as I inhaled a sharp breath and bit my lips. ''Wait.'' ''Wait just a fucking minute.'' ''Crops? Haggard people? Third-world country? No regulation? Cheap produce? Suspicious unmarked trucks? No records? No pay? Exporting to other places?'' ''Am I a human trafficker!!!??'' It sounded ridiculous, but the more I thought about it, the more the idea got stuck in my head. Images of documentaries about little children stuck in factories flashed before my eyes. Faint recollections of toddlers making hundred-dollar shoes refusing to leave my cranium as I started hyperventilating. ''No.'' I told myself. ''This is different. I came here to help these people! I... I... I fed them! I built a Dungeon for them to get stronger! I gave them food and work and I even grew them little houses out of my plants so they could rest between shifts and.... Oh sweet merciful Buddha! This is a plantation!'' Once that thought entered my brain I just couldn''t get it out. It kept buzzing around the inside of my skull like an annoying fly. Bolting out of the way whenever I tried to swat it away. "Master Conan?" Shortround spoke from the side. "First group come back. Many hurt." I turned my whole body towards the voice. Almost jumping off my heels as the particular word choice sent alarm bells ringing in my head. "Mister Conan. Not master." "Yes master Conan." "No dammit! Not master Conan! Mister! MISTER!" I stopped as soon as I saw Shortround and the rest of them. All cowering back with enlarged eyes. I blinked at them. Stopping to take a few steadying breaths. "Sorry." I continued. "Let me see them." My eyes then swept over the group. Noting how many of the returning fighters had lacerations all over their bodies. Narrow streaks of red where the skin had been forced to part. All gathered around their arms and legs. "What the...?" I ran to them and began my healing. Closing the gaps and easing their pain. "What happened?" I asked. "Flower goblin." Shortround answered. "Ran. Arms waving. Arms hurt." I blinked again. ''The roses? They were just supposed to be easy mobs.'' "Show me." I said. "Gather the second group. We''ll go down together." Shortround nodded and spoke to the rest of the group. Signaling with her fingers at another four people coming off a nap after farm work. I saw them and once more noted how their frames were slightly fuller now. Slightly more human and less skeletal in appearance. Then I paid a little bit more attention to Shortround. Noting with some horror that she was now slightly taller. Slightly more full in the arms and legs and torso. ''What''s going on? It''s been a couple hours at most.'' Maybe this was normal? I don''t know. Maybe this was the normal reaction to finally getting food after starving for a long time. Maybe humans were just built to bounce right back from near death like this. Come to think of it, these people got right down to working and most of them haven''t had a break yet. It wasn''t like that for me. I had to take several breaks when I started training with coach Russell. At least for the first few days while I built up my stamina through running up and down the hills and woods. ''No. This isn''t normal. There is something wrong here. But what? My healing? Their exposure to a lot of magic before they started training? The food itself? Coach Russell and Mr. Robertson did mention that there was something weird about the produce I was growing. Is this going to be okay for them or is it going to have negative side effects?'' I shook my head. Banishing those thoughts for later and heading down into my own Dungeon. Chapter 40: Lowering Standards. The reason for the holdup became obvious as soon as I saw the group around me charging headfirst into the fray. Up in the surface, when they had been attacking my drones, all the gathered people had come together in a big human wave. Smashing themselves against my drones with all the ferocity their emaciated bodies could muster and managing to press their advantage through the sheer weight of their numbers. Down here though, things were different. ''Each person counts for a lot more in small groups and that makes their shortcomings more glaring.'' I thought to myself. Watching the group in front of me with weary eyes. Their short spears were held at the ready with their main hands while they braced their shields with their off-hands. Each one of them jabbed and prodded at the mutated rosebushes. Sharp points piercing through empty air or getting stuck on recently-dug stone walls. That latter eventuality was of particular import, as it left the attackers open for retaliation. Their strength and focus dedicated to either dislodging their weapons or else backing off with their shields raised with both hands. In either case, the rosebushes danced around them with all the grace and easy of professional ballerinas. Slicing and dicing red ribbons on exposed flesh before slinking back behind the sunflower monsters. For their part, the sunflowers remained motionless. There simply wasn''t any need for them to get involved and I had given very specific orders that those who fell or lagged behind were to be left alone unless they attacked first. Given all the trouble the roses were causing, there wasn''t much chance of them seeing any action anytime soon. The little thorny bastards were just to quick. Too nimble and too well-accustomed to the damp darkness of the corridors. Their thorny legs had no issues clinging to walls or even ceilings like spiders and their bundled-up, vine-like bodies were so flexible that they resembled flowing streams of green water whenever they danced around the spear tips. As for the people.... Well. A kind person might have said they weren''t very good. A not-so kind person might have commented that they had all the precision and subtlety of a theme park mascot high on meth and bath salts. More specifically, one found in Florida or Ohio. Running naked up and down the lines while the cops chased after them. To make matters worse, their best strikes were so slow that the roses had time for tea, biscuits, a casual conversation, a quick nap and a quick scroll through Ourtube between each jab. All while being so telegraphed that blind children in California were expecting them. In other words, they sucked. A lot. To the point where it didn''t matter that the rosebushes were only aiming for their legs. I could have ordered them to only attack the delver''s pinky toes and this still would have been a one-sided slaughter. ''Did I suck this much when I started working out with coach Russell?'' I didn''t think so. I did spear a fair few Rippers with my friends and coach Homer on my first delve after all. Although.... Thinking back on it, I had Marco, Drew and Ramji helping me the whole way down. That, and the Rippers that made their way to the surface were slower and clumsier than the people in front of me right now. ''Wait a second. Wait just a second. Did I just push these people into a murder-hole without properly preparing them first!?'' I blinked several times in quick succession and for a moment, I swore I could hear faint laughter in the distance. It sounded like it belonged to coach Russell. ''Well well welly well well! Look what we have here! Choir-boy Cecil showing his true colors and opening a sweatshop! I guess its true what they say. There''s no labour like slave labour! And all that while sending level zero guys to their deaths! Pushing them against monsters they have no business fighting! Of course, it''s fine when he does it, but when I do it everybody loses their minds!'' Then I heard another voice. Remarkably akin to that of Elsie. ''Nya hahaha! Goody-two-shoes Cecil is out here building his own temple of doom! With blood sacrifices and everything! And his own Shortround to boot! Nya hahaha!'' "Out!" I commanded. "Everybody out! I need to do some more work around these parts! Everybody out into the surface!" I placed my hands on those that had been injured as Shortround translated my words. My magic flowing through their bodies and healing them at once. Once we were on the surface, I set about growing a series of flattened roots into the general shape of a beginner''s obstacle course. One that ran the perimeter of the camp. "Tell this group to run 5 laps. Then go with them. Take breaks or slow down if you have to. As many times as you need. But don''t sit still for more than 15 minutes at a time. When that''s done, get another six people from the farm workers and switch them out. Do that until the sun sets." Shortround began translating. Then, she and the others started running without complaint. I didn''t know how to feel about that to be honest. At the very least, I felt that a few insults towards me and my ancestors were warranted. I certainly felt as though I deserved them after the mess I''d made of this whole thing. I knew for a fact that releasing pent-up bitterness had a soothing effect on the psyche. Like balm for one''s spirit. I know I did my fair share of cursing when coach Russell had me going up and down the hills for hours on end. It had felt good to curse out him and his mother inside my head back then. Though I never had the courage to say it to his face, lest the big steroid-fueled gorilla rip my arms off and beat me to death with them. That notion set off a whole other load of internal panic. ''Am I scary to them!? Are they not saying anything because they''re afraid I''ll start throwing them like ragdolls!?'' I thought about it for a couple of seconds. Then I came to the realization that that was exactly what they were all thinking. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. The person they saw was not me. Not Cecil Fowler. They had seen Conan the hairy pubescent maniac who had grown five entire farms from nothing, controlled horrible plant monsters without batting an eye, gotten into a screaming match with the two teleporting guys, told them to fight the aforementioned plant monsters and then strung them all up using magic super-roots. ''How did I not realize this earlier? Am I stupid? I''d always though I was pretty smart but everything I''ve done is starting to seem really really stupid from where I''m standing right now.'' I had been trying to save as many people as possible. Trying so hard to get stronger so that I could protect my family. So that I could protect as many innocents as I possibly could from hunger and the threat of monsters. All that time, all that pain, all that stress and blood and tears... All so that I could end up in the literal middle of nowhere running a human trafficking operation for a rich old geezer and his wacky eugenics doomsday cult. And hurting the people I was supposed to help train on top of all that. ''All of my intentions were good. All the individual steps seemed reasonable. Maybe even noble. How did all of that turn into this? Where did everything go crazy?'' Yet another image seared itself into my mind then. Another Cecil. Another me. One wearing a white tuxedo and sporting a thick handlebar moustache while riding a horse. This other version of me was pointing at the crops and down at the Dungeon. Brandishing a whip and making the leather sing as the tip parted the air faster than the speed of sound. "Go on! Gather more crops to sell! Go down and get eaten by my plant monsters! Go on! Get! Or you won''t get food! Andale! Andale! Arribaaaaaa!" In the vision, coach Russell stood behind me. A tear streaming down the corner of his eye. "I''m so proud of you Cecil. You''ve taken after me, instead of your uncle. I''m so happy!" Then Elsie came over from the side. "Yay Cecil! I knew you could do it! Let''s get married and keep oppressing people forever!" I was screaming before I knew it. My heart gripped with a terror beyond words or mortal comprehension.
"Dude, are you sure you''re okay?" Marco asked for the umpteenth time. "Of course I''m okay. Why wouldn''t I be?" "Because Mr. Robertson himself came to get us while we were home with our parents." Drew answered in a deadpan voice. "Apparently someone was having a mental breakdown." "Huh. Funny that. I wonder who he might have been talking about." Ramji gave me a look. Then his eyes went down to his Analyzer. His fingers pushing buttons up and down the length of the device. A minute later, the bracelet was playing a video of a musclebound giant screaming his head off amidst a sea of vegetables, fruits and people picking said vegetables and fruits. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! OYAAAWAAWAAACELULALAU!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!" The giant had said. All while the people working and running around him did their very best to ignore him. Their eyes suddenly finding the soil and leaves around them very interesting whenever the giant happened to glance their way. I looked at the video. Then at my friends. "Okay? So?" "So we would like to talk." Marco spoke. His eyes tracking the plants around me for some odd reason. "I''m fine." I lied. "I was just reconsidering some of the things I''ve done recently and how I could have done better. How I should have done better. It is all right now. I am going to do better. I''m digging out more floors in my pseudo-Dungeon and I''m making creatures that are as weak as possible for the others to get used to fighting. Just to get them started while they build up the necessary stats." They all looked at each other. "So you''re not losing your marbles because Mr. Robertson threw a mountain of responsibility on top of you while you and your family are going through tough times?" Ramji asked. "Yeah. It''s crazy that he did this to you. I mean, I get that you''re mature and that you like farm work for some reason. But you''re fourteen and you just got your core and you''re still figuring a lot of stuff out for the first time." Drew followed up. "Don''t forget that his uncle''s crazy now too." Marco added. "My uncle isn''t crazy." I rebutted immediately. Marco paused. Looked over at the other two and then back at me. "Right. My bad. Your uncle''s totally healthy. It''s normal for men his age to bite paramedics." I didn''t think he meant for that sentence to come across as sarcastic as it did, so I let it go. Still, I paused. Considering their words. ''Huh? When he puts it that way, this whole thing sounds like Mr. Robertson''s fuck up instead of mine.'' Indeed, the more I thought about it, the more I agreed with that sentiment. I''d been a dead-broke middle-school student less than two months ago. I was struggling to wrap my head around advanced functions before coming here. What did he and coach Russell expect me to do? ''Work the farms.'' A little voice whispered in my ear. ''That''s all you''re good for anyway. All you had to do was work the farms, get the people to feed themselves and fill up the trucks. A monkey could have done it. It has to be you because you''re the only one with the [Life] core. You couldn''t keep aunt Cheryl safe from the rumors and the gossip and the bullies. You couldn''t keep uncle Uter sane. You couldn''t keep Eva happy. Feeding people and helping them get cores was the one thing you were good for. The one thing you could do to help the people of the world. It was simple and easy. And you mucked it up. Just like everything else.'' I shook my head to dispel the intrusive thoughts. Not wanting to entertain them any further, for fear they might be right. I waved over at the entrance to the cave I''d made for the people here at camp. "I''m okay guys. Honest. I''m doing a lot of good here and I think I''m finally getting the hang of it. Here. I''ll show you." I brought them down to the re-worked first floor. Our steps echoing down the widened staircase as we descended deep into the earth. Within a couple of minutes, we had arrived at a wide rectangular chamber. Tall enough that I could easily move around and large enough that whole groups would be able to maneuver without bumping into each other. In the very center was the main interlocked trunks of the oak trees I had used as the main support pillar. With another door on the far side leading downwards into even deeper chambers. In the ceiling were colonies of bio-luminescent mushrooms. All clustered together every two or so meters to make sure the people coming here could actually see where they were going. The floors, which had previously been filled with entangling roots and vines, were now barren and exposed. The only obstacle coming from the fact that the drones had not been able to make them completely even and there were some sections were small, jagged pebbles could still be encountered. That said, I did think it was an overall improvement over the last design. Especially when it came to the creatures. "What, in the name of all that is good and holy, is that!?" Ramji exclaimed. Obvious surprise mixing with disgust on his face. "It''s a slime." I answered. "Dude. That''s not a slime." Marco rebutted me at once. "I''ve seen slimes. They''re green or blue or red and they''re mostly transparent. Like Jell-O that''s been watered down a bunch. That is not a slime." "Its slime-adjacent." I conceded. "More like barf-adjacent." Drew quipped. "It isn''t that bad." "Dude. It looks like a watery dog turd that got shit on by a flock of birds and then stepped on by coach Homer." "Marco, stop. Just stop." Drew reared back. "I did not need that picture in my mind." Marco shrugged. "Just being honest is all. That''s what it looks like." Ramji turned to me. Eyes wide. "Why would you make this Cecil? Why would you make this crime against nature? Are you trying to make people cry?" "Probably made it to gross people out." Drew interjected again. "It''s working as intended by the way." I shook my head in denial. "I made it to pick up the pebbles and even out the floors with some corrosive acid I managed to make when I started focusing on my own stomach. Then I realized that it couldn''t really defend itself or move out of the way of attacks. I needed to tone down the difficulty and this was already made so I went along with my progress. I fattened it up some more with mashed-up fruits from the surface, threw in a snail or three and voila!" "No Cecil. No voila. This is disgusting." "It''s brilliant is what it is. Yeah, it smells... quite bad. But that''s about it. Well, that and it''s hard to kill since it keeps regenerating so quickly. But the people above will be using the spears I made so it doesn''t matter either way. Not like I''m asking them to kiss the thing. They won''t need to get close." I picked up a nearby pebble and threw it as hard as I could to make my point. There was a loud squelching noise as the stone impacted upon the semi-liquid form of the monster. One that echoed off the walls for a brief second. The slime writhed a little but otherwise didn''t react. "See? It''s basically a dynamic, moving, living punching bag that helps you raise your stats! It''s a perfect starting monster for newbies." Ramji seemed to consider my words. Edging closer and closer to the slime. "Okay. I get it. But what does it do when people get close?" "Nothing. I tested it out myself." Drew raised her hand sheepishly. "But, don''t your monsters... I dunno... not attack you? What does that prove?" I was about to tell her, when the slime beat me to it. It leapt at Ramji. Quick as a snake. Slithering up his chest and onto his face before he could blink. Like a jumping spider or a face-embracer from the 1980s Extraterrestrial. Then, like that iconic monster, the slime latched onto his face and pressed itself against his mouth. Right on cue to muffle the screams. Chapter 41: Super Foods. "Look man. I said I was sorry. I don''t know how many times you want me to say it. I''m sorry okay? I didn''t mean for this to happen. You''re my friend. I''d never willingly do this to you." "THUCK HOO!" Ramji bellowed. Holding what was left of his teeth in one hand while giving me the finger with the other. "GHALL GHILL HOO!!" He continued. Just as another corroded, blackened tooth fell down. I turned towards my other friends for help. Marco was busy stomping the living daylights out of the slime-o-morph. With little success. Drew was busy holding her mouth closed with both hands. At first, I thought it was because she was afraid the slime would pick her next. Then I realized it was because she was struggling to drown her hysterical bouts of laughter. I healed Ramji easily enough and that seemed to calm him down some. "Cecil! I swear! You can''t do these kinds of things!" He paused to take a deep breath "Bro! Bro! I almost died!" "I don''t know man. Sounds like a skill issue." Drew snickered from the side. "Not helping Drew." I called back. "No no. She''s got a point. It''s pretty slow. He was careless." Marco butt in. "It''s more or less on the level of monsters on the fourth in terms of speed. That''s pretty slow for people like us on the verge of level 2. Nothing we haven''t handled before." He kept stomping with all the strength he could muster without actually using any skills. The ground beneath him cracking and splintering as his foot met the slime. "The real impressive part is how durable this thing is. It''s got some natural resistance to my attacks, since it''s all squishy. That helps and I can feel its organs moving around inside of it when I hit it. So not only is it tough, but its moving around the important bits so I don''t damage them. While re-directing my attack. The kinetic force I mean. See here? Notice how the surface moves a little when I hit it. It feels like I''m stomping on wet mud that moves right or left. Like I''m trying to pop a really thick, really flexible water balloon filled with honey or something." He ended the demonstration by kicking it. Sending the slime-o-morph crashing against a nearby wall. "Cecil''s right. It''s great practice. I actually want one now. Are you selling them?" "It ate my teeth!" Ramji howled. Drew snickered again. "Aah. It just wanted to show you some love. You know? Give you a big hug. To your face." "I am going to kill you all one of these days." Ramji declared. His finger wagging menacingly in the air. "Not with those reaction speeds." Marco quipped from the side. "Like I said. Skill issue." "Okay enough." I came in from the side. "Ramji''s right. I went a little overboard with the slime. I need to make something less dangerous to start." "Why?" Marco asked. "Not like you''re in any kind of hurry." "I''m trying to get these people cores." I reminded him. "Yeah, so? Breaking day is three years off. These people got time. Plenty of it in fact. That and I''m pretty sure they all came from literal concentration camps. They''re not going to be in the best place. Mentally speaking." "Yeah dude." Drew agreed. Finally taking a few deep breaths and dispelling the bouts of laughter. "Chill out for a few days. Let them eat and keep them working out. Might not seem like a good idea, but its not like there''s much they can do with 1 in all their stats. That''s a mistake coach Homer made and he had to carry you out with egg on his face. Coach Russell was ripping into him for weeks." Ramji calmed down enough to nod. "They''re right. You did a lot better when you had 1.1 and 1.2 in your stats. That might not seem like much now, but I remember it making a big difference. Let them work upstairs while you make weaker monsters." He stared at the slime with baleful eyes. "Something that won''t melt people''s skulls open this time." I followed his gaze. "Okay? Any suggestions?" _____________________________________________________________________________________________ I spent that first night ordering my drones to make the rooms wider and deeper. With even more levels hidden deep beneath the earth in what was turning out to be a beehive-like underground complex. In order to keep them stable, I used more trees as supports. This time opting for Giant Sequoias instead of Oak trees. Figuring that they were already massive in nature and the ones that I mutated would be able to support a lot more weight than the trees I had in place. Casper provided the seeds close to dusk and I did the rest. Sprinkling them about so that each new battle-chamber had one at the center, about seven floors down. That way, their weight would stabilize all the higher floors while not having any deeper floors to threaten. This choice also allowed me to shape the topside portions so that their branches widened and erupted into massive circular growths. So large that they could act as makeshift huts for the people I was taking care of. At first, I had imagined that it wouldn''t be too effective. Merely a temporary solution to a long-term problem. Instead, I was able to widen the growths and the trunks of the trees to gargantuan proportions. Until each attached growth was as big as a three-bedroom townhouse back in the city, with the trunks themselves growing to the width of skyscrapers. It would have been impressive, if I''d been trying to do it on purpose. As things actually stood, I had to send all my drones to the tunnels at night to frantically expand the actual tunnels and to create new passageways around the spreading roots. Giant Sequoias, as it turned out, almost had a mind of their own. An instinctual need to grow taller and wider, regardless of how many times I yelled at the trees to stop. So, the good people on the farm were not able to attack the living punching bags I''d fashioned out of potatoes. Not that night at least. They slept in soft leafy cots spread around the floors of my makeshift homes. While I stayed below the surface. Digging and working my magic into new creatures with my friends. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. The second day was marked by Casper bringing in three more waves of drones from the Dunstonberry Dungeon. Each one having two to three hundred individuals. "You''ll start seeing a marked drop in them from now on." He warned. "The Dungeon back home seems to be recovering." "That''s fine." I told him truthfully. "These ones will be a big help, but I don''t think I''ll need many more of them for what I''m trying to do. This is all temporary after all." Casper narrowed his eyes and swept his gaze over the fields. To all the vegetables and fruit-bearing trees stretching out towards the horizon. "Right." He said. "Well, best of luck. Keep up the good work." He turned to take away two more trucks and vanished with a rush of displaced air. I turned away as well. Looking over the new infusion of labor. "Right then. I have enough of you up here on the surface already. Make your way underground and expand the tunnels. Dig vertically as needed, but focus on horizontal expansion around the tree trunks and roots. Try to make each room bit enough to allow twenty people to move around comfortably within them. Don''t worry about making the walls or floors smooth. The slimes can take care of that. Just keep digging and expanding the complex. Once you reach seven floors deep, start making new horizontal paths that branch out from each floor and chamber." The drones got to work after that. The rest of the day was spent just like the first. With everyone in the surface picking more and more produce out of the ground, eating what they could and throwing what they couldn''t into more trucks for processing in whatever secondary location Mr. Robertson was using as a front. They would take schedule breaks whenever I asked Shortround to spread the word and groups of six would take turns running laps around the increasingly wide perimeter of our operation. After their warm-up was over, they would pick up solid wooden poles I''d grown from tree branches and use them to beat the snot out of the potato dummies for 15 or so minutes at a time. After that, it was time for a half hour break while the next group started running and after that, it was back to working the fields alongside me. Their training was completely physical, while mine consisted of several aspects. There was the obvious infusion of magic to the fields, the produce, the trees and all my existing creatures, but I was also picking up vegetables the second they finished popping out of the ground. Moreover, I started challenging myself to go faster and faster with each new truck or pallet I filled. Carrying heavier and heavier loads from the fields with each trip. That helped my nerves to some degree. I didn''t feel quite as bad about the operation when I could tell myself that I was working the hardest out of everyone here. Ramji, Drew and Marco also didn''t complain anymore, which was a nice touch. It felt good to work alongside them, even if we weren''t talking much. It made me feel that sense of comradery again. While also giving me a point of reference for how fast I was improving. Indeed, all was well and good that day. I started to get that feeling back. That sense of joy that came from being exposed to nature in all its glory. In some ways, it was even more pronounced now than before. As if the giant trees and all their leaves were showering the fields with a gentle glow. A warm echo of love and appreciation. I felt full. Happy. Despite the magical exhaustion that would force me to focus entirely on the physical aspect of my training from time to time. Though I did notice some small changes towards the latter parts of the day. The people were moving about more quickly. Appearing less exhausted. Less scared of all the magic around them. Their eyes had an odd, yet familiar focus. One that reminded me of my early days with coach Russell as we ran up and down those wooded hills. One that was missing in most other people I passed by in town. ''Wait, are they... fuller?'' That should have been obvious, given the metric tons of food they were consuming at all hours of the day with smiles on their faces, but that wasn''t quite it. Their muscles looked like.. well... muscles. More or less like those of a normal everyday person. That wasn''t strange in and of itself, yet I couldn''t help but recall just how emaciated all of them bad been when they first arrived yesterday. ''They''d been skeletons back then and they''re more or less back to the baseline I''m used to for people I see all the time. After just one day.'' I got a strange tingling sensation then. A little whisper in the back of my head that something wasn''t right. That whisper only got louder and louder the longer I worked beside them. ''I''m getting less looks now. They seem less scared out of their minds compared to before. Is that it? No. That''s a part of it but it doesn''t feel like the main thing that''s wrong with this picture.'' That oddness bothered me for the rest of the second night as I continued my work in silence. With only the cold evening breeze and the stars for company. Speaking of stars, they were beautiful that night. Shining down like diamonds and peeking out from the few open and exposed corners of the canopy above my head, Said canopy had grown to the point where it overed several kilometers in all directions. So that anyone who passed by might mistake the scenery for a newly-grown forest, despite the overall lack of trees. ''There are only about a dozen or so and yet they were able to do this much. All thanks to me. Come to think of it, how do these few trees support all those massive branches and all those leaves? How do all these vegetables keep growing so fast at night?'' They''d been growing just fine in the shade, but this was different. Despite me relishing the rays of silver starlight, anyone else, anyone normal, would have found themselves surrounded by impenetrable darkness on all sides. ''Maybe my magic makes it so that the plants don''t need light? At least in the short term?'' It was as good an explanation as I was likely to get without rounds upon rounds of rigorous testing in some lab. I had a feeling that figuring out the intricacies of magic carrots wasn''t high on Mr. Robertson''s to-do list too. So. I let it go and went about the business of using my magic on the local grasses and weeds strewn about the outskirts. Weaving together semi-solid backpacks bigger than I was and filling them to the brim. Before finding the loads too light and forcing the new creations to grow vertically, as well as horizontally in the shape of a spreading cone. Two more layers made it heavy enough to start taking a toll on me again, while also adding the challenge of balancing all those kilograms of food. Soon enough I ran out of trucks and pallets, which meant I had to grow more pallets. Which made me spend my magic. Which made me more tired, Which made carrying the loads more challenging. It was like a game, and I became so engrossed in it that I didn''t notice that my friends were missing until the first rays of sunshine started to peek out from between the leaves so many meters above the fields. I turned towards the east to catch the rising sun. My skin almost vibrating with glee as the colors of the earth and sky changed with the coming dawn. ''They don''t know what they''re missing.'' I thought with no small amount of satisfaction. ''I feel so alive right now. So fulfilled. More so than I ever did when I was a normal person. This, this is what I was born to do.'' Curiously, I could feel those same emotions coming from Shortround as she made her way out of one of the homegrown houses sprouting from the Giant Sequoias. Same with the dozens upon dozens of people coming out right next to her and those streaming from behind. She gave me a small bow alongside the others and wordlessly started to pick up vegetables from the ground once more. That was when the odd feeling returned. That nagging at the back of my head that kept insisting something was wrong with this picture. I narrowed my eyes and tried to look for anything out of the ordinary. ''Huh? She looks, taller? Wait. They all do. They all look taller. And fuller. Their cheeks aren''t sunk-in anymore. Is that normal?'' They had been eating entire cartloads of food so improvements to their health weren''t out of the question. Sure it was strange that they had recovered as fast as they did, but that could be attributed to magic nonsense. That nagging voice didn''t leave me though. ''There''s something seriously wrong here.'' It kept whispering. ''There''s something crucial missing from this equation. You''re really stupid for not noticing.'' I tried to ignore them as best I could. Focusing on growing my new backpack every couple of hours. My legs were burning by the time the sun climbed to its noon position above our heads. My arms and back straining with the continuous effort of moving under weights that would have turned a normal man into puree. I was just about to stop for my first break of the day, when the realization suddenly struck me. ''I''m not thirsty.'' I thought to myself. ''Not only that, there isn''t any way to get water anywhere on the farm. It hasn''t rained since we got here and the ground beneath us was dry as a bone when I started digging.'' "Hey Shortround, has Mr. Robertson or anyone else been handing out water?" "No Master Conan." Shortround answered. "I thought we didn''t need it. The food is magic and none of us have been thirsty. We haven''t needed to..." She paused. Blushing. "Go, either. Not since eating the magic food." I furrowed my eyes at that. Slight bouts of panic rising to the surface. ''Oh, I''m pretty sure that''s bad. Food isn''t supposed to cause constipation. How long can people go without going again? Whatever the limit is, I''m pretty sure they''ve passed it given how much they''ve been eating.'' Case in point, Shortround was working her way through an apple as big as her head as she stood there waiting for my response. She finished it in five huge bites. Not breaking eye contact the whole while. Standing amidst other fruits and vegetables without a care in the world. Chapter 42: Sudden Improvements. "I think you''re making a big deal out of nothing." Mr. Robertson said. Dismissing my concerns with a casual ease that I found enviable. I blinked. Genuinely wondering if he''d finally started to go senile. "Really? You don''t think it''s a big deal that the food we''re exporting by the truckload is giving people digestive issues? Or that it makes people balloon in size? You know you''re charging money for this right? You don''t think whomever munches down on one of our very-obviously mutated apples is going to have a few questions when they realize they haven''t gone to the toilet in days?" The older, stick-like man gave me and odd look. Then he swept his gaze along the fields and over all the people currently working them or running around them. His eyes glinting like deep-blue sapphires as the morning sun struck them. There was a manic vibrancy to those eyes. A beauty and a power that made the old coot seem fifty years younger. And when he took a few purposeful steps forward, his strides reminded me of Elsie and the cat-like grace with which she carried herself. He took in a lungful of air then. Savoring the oxygen given off by all the plant life that surrounded us. It was as if he could also taste the magic. The loving, gentle embrace of the outdoors that made my own heart throb when I worked the soil. The early September breeze was cool as it washed over both of us. Still not quite cold enough to be uncomfortable in any way. So that the high winds felt like a gentle massage as they struck my skin. "No." He confirmed. "If anything, I''m starting to think we aren''t charging people enough." He walked over to one of the Sequoias. Caressing the colossal tree''s bark with his old wrinkled fingers. "I grant you that we haven''t been selling for long, but all the signs are looking up. None of the other people who''ve been consuming your products throughout the world in all the stores that we''ve stocked up have shown any signs of constipation. Quite the contrary. Almost all the feedback we''ve been getting has been overwhelmingly positive." "Almost?" I clarified. He sighed dramatically. His few remaining tufts of white hair bobbing up and down as he did so. "Yes. Almost. No matter how much good you do or how many people you feed, you''re bound to run into some critics. A few special interest groups have been crying about how all this genetically-modified produce is leading to as-of-yet unknown health problems. All without any proof, of course." He shrugged. "It was within our expectations. You can''t really start selling melons the size of cows without someone raising the alarm. A few government agencies in Europe have even gone so far as to accuse us of irradiating our crops. None have started official inquiries into the matter but I figure it''ll happen within the year. Maybe within a few months." I stared at him. Wide-eyed. "And you''re not worried?" He barked out a laugh. His eyes now looking at me as if I were wearing a big conical hat with "Dunce" written along its side. "Oh Cecil. Why would I be worried about what some overstuffed no-name bureaucrat says to justify their bloated salary? What are they gonna do? Pull our produce from stores? When no actual consumers have complained? When our stuff is half the price of anything else in the stores? While also being bigger?" He shook his head in obvious amusement. A little bit of derision leaking into each motion. "If that''s what they want, they''re more than welcome to do so. Doesn''t make any difference to me. Matter of fact, it would solve a lot of problems. Our main issue right now is that, despite how much you''ve done in these past few weeks, you''re simply not growing the feed fast enough. We have more demand than we can handle in all the stores we''ve sold to and the stores we haven''t sold to are blowing up our office''s phones with requests. Besides, our most loyal customers aren''t going to be in those countries that are turning up their noses at our giant turnips." He wagged a finger in front of me. "No sir. Our real customers all live in places where a toothless donkey would be considered a suspiciously extravagant gift. The people we really want to reach are mostly rural, mostly illiterate and, for lack of a better word, poor as shit. The kind of people who were burning down their cities just a couple of weeks ago because they were starving and wanted their local banana republics or two-bit dictators to do something about it. Those people aren''t going to say anything bad about apples as big as their heads because they''re too busy stabbing their neighbors to get into the stores to buy them." I blinked at that. Several times in quick succession. "Did you just say people were stabbing their neighbors?" "For your apples. Yes. I did say that. Because they are doing that. And worse. The queues in some stores stretch around several blocks. I''ve got videos." I did another round of blinking. "Anyway, as I was saying; the people aren''t going to complain because they''re too busy crying out for more and the governments in those places aren''t going to say anything because they want their peons working instead of rioting. You can only have so much misery at any given time before your own armed forces turn on their masters after all." I did yet another round of blinking. "Just imagine, for a second, that you''re a third-world dilatant. You''ve got your hot young wife. Your hot young mistresses. A mansion so large that all your serving staff have their own rooms and a basement bunker so deep it could weather a couple of nuclear strikes without a problem. All of it surrounded by three or four layers of electrified fences, barbed wire and minefields. Now think. What is the biggest threat to your security? Sloppy Joe on the street pushing his hotdog stand? Sleepy Paul manning the desk at the DMV? No! Of course not! You''ve got yourself a well-funded, well-trained gaggle of secret enforcers." He jabbed a finger at my chest. "Think Stasi or Gestapo, but with less fashionable outfits. They make sure any dissidents that get too loud never get the chance to say anything bad about you ever again. Then the people who mysteriously disappear get to serve as examples for those who remain. Sure, you could try and overthrow the government, but is it really worth the risk of having your tippy toes tied to car battery and your organs flogged for pennies on the dollar?" The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. He rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner. Moving one of his arms over my shoulder and patting me on the back. "No! Of course not! Which means no one with any brains between their ears is going to be brave enough to stand out in the crowd under most circumstances. Which means the mobs that do form when things reach a tipping point will end up as leaderless collections of rabble that inevitably burn down their own cities. Mr. Dictator doesn''t care about that! Not until one of those starving Joes just happens to be the dear old papa of one of their enforcers that is. Should that happen even once, the dictators, the competent ones at least, get real spooked. If that happens a couple more times... well. Let''s just say that the CIA doesn''t have a monopoly on coup-d''¨¦tats." He chuckled drily. "Which means that even the most jaded, bloodthirsty maniacs out there have a vested interest in keeping their people generally content. And nothing brings forth more discontent than rampant, nation-wide starvation. The kind of starvation where even the rats have been devoured and the roaches flee for their lives. The kind where no amount of money will buy you a single egg, let alone a chicken. The kind where cute little children start fainting in the streets and old grannies start to look rather tasty. You lose your most rabid, loyal followers, and you''ve got a problem. You lose the rank and file of the army, and you''ve got a catastrophe. You lose even a couple of members of your inner circle, and you better hope they kill you quickly. The alternatives tend to be ugly, to say the least." He drew back. "All the smart leaders know this. For most of them, it''s how they came to power in the first place. Which means they can appreciate a golden ticket when it shows up at their doorstep. Believe you me, I''ve made a lot of friends in the past two days alone. Their only concern is getting their grubby mitts on more of our trucks and getting them as fast as humanly possible. I''m keeping prices low on purpose to avoid the kind of world-wide refugee crisis I saw during my first run-through but all our stuff flies off the shelves faster than we can rip it off the ground. As I said, we simply aren''t growing the stuff fast enough to make up for the shortfall in natural produce." Mr. Robertson donned a sardonic smile. "And the good news don''t stop there! We''re making money hand over fist! It doesn''t matter how cheap we make the stuff because we aren''t paying our farmers! It''s all profit baby!" That. That was too much. "You shouldn''t be bragging about using slave labor!" "Cecil! Cecil! What are you saying? We aren''t using slave labor. We''re giving these people something money can''t buy. Magic and the power to determine their own future. And food. Don''t forget about the food part. See Shortround over there? Her ribs aren''t poking through her shirt anymore are they? Why, she''s even starting to look her own age! That''s a miracle in and of itself! You think she''s not grateful? You think she minds working the fields? Of course not! None of these people are unhappy! Take it from me. I''m a mind-reader." He paused for a second. "That, and I can speak the language." "Exactly! You can speak the language and I can''t." He lowered his voice and whispered something under his breath. "Well actually... mind... bleeding... English....." "What was that?" "Nothing." He said casually. "Don''t you worry your little head about the language thing. I have it all under control." "Uh. No. I think I will worry about the language thing! How do I know these people aren''t begging me to let them go!?" Mr. Robertson stared at me for a second. Then, with a voice that boomed like thunder. He laughed in my face. He laughed and laughed until his own wrinkled face started turning apple red. "HAHAHAHAHAHA!" He sucked in a breath. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Nice one!" He paused once more. "Oh wait. You were serious! Let me laugh even harder! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!" He sucked in another breath. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! HAAAAAA!!!!" He patted my back again while I stood there. Aghast. "Cecil! Look around! Use your eyes! Do you see any fencing anywhere? Any guard dogs? Any watchtowers? Do you see angry men with guns making the rounds? Do you see drones flying overhead?" I considered it. "No?" "Exactly! And do you know why I haven''t bothered to put any of that in place?" I took his meaning at once. "Because you think you don''t need it." I answered. "No Cecil. It''s because I KNOW I don''t need it. These people aren''t just grateful to be here. Tell them you can only keep half of them around and you''ll have a stabbing match before you can fucking blink. Desperate folks literally gutting their friends just for a chance to stay here!" Mr. Robertson came close. His face almost touching mine as he grabbed both my shoulders. "In all seriousness Cecil. You cannot imagine what the hunger does to people. How it twists their minds, as well as their bodies. You don''t know what it''s like. You can''t know what it''s like. Not really. But I do." His grip tightened. His voice turning to steel. "I was captured by the Japanese during world war 2. I was at the camps. I knew what it was like to wake up, work and go to sleep without a single crumb in your stomach. It starts as mere discomfort. Then it turns to pain. To fear. To paranoid desperation. And that is just within the first week. Soon, before you even know it, food becomes all you can think about. All your mind conjures. The mere idea of food invades both your dreams and your nightmares. It consumes the memories of home and of your family. It is like a weighed net. Dragging you down and down and down." His grip tightened further. And for a second, I knew the weight of all those levels. His nails digging into my arms until it became painful. "You breathe and think of food. You blink and think of food. You hurt. All the time. As if someone had stabbed you in the belly and left behind a massive, gaping hole that aches and aches and aches. Then comes the weakness and the delirium. You start seeing things. Imagining things. You start to forget who you are. Who you were before the hunger. The lack of food becomes your world. Your whole identity. The mere idea of movement begins to hurt and the thought of death becomes as tempting as it is frightening." His eyes were hard now. Both of them staring. Not at me, but at some other place far, far away. The two unshakable gems drawn back into the past. "Them towards the end, you feel yourself becoming less. Less than human. You turn into the animal your captors think you are. A beast that cares not for what is moral or just or right. You become a rabid dog that will do anything. Anything. For the smallest scraps. The hunger isn''t something you feel at that point. It is something you are. As big a part of you as your parents or your friends. As your country or your religion. It is everything that you are and everything you will be." His nails dug into my skin. Becoming more painful. I tried to shake them off, but found that I was being strangled by a vice. Completely helpless in the face of overwhelming power. That power, that magic, now washed over me. Crushing me under the depths of an entire ocean. "You are an ignorant, vain, vapid little pig boy! Coddled and cuddled so much that you cannot even imagine what the people we''re feeding are going through! What they will be going through in another month! In another year! If it weren''t for our efforts here!" His fingers drew blood. "I had given up on them this time too. Because I didn''t have any way to help them before you arrived. Before you got your core. I had cut my losses like a coward. Telling myself that I would at least save those who could be saved this time around! You didn''t see the things I saw, Cecil. You didn''t see the distended bellies. The little children laying on the floor. In the streets. You didn''t see the mercy killings. The mass suicides. The dead, hopeless pits in people''s eyes! You didn''t see the lengths men would go to in order to feed their wives, their mothers, their little daughters! You''ve never seen a communal cooking fire and known damn well what was in the pots!" The intensity in his gaze told me he was seeing those fires again. As if he was back there with them. "You don''t know how much good you''re doing. How important your core is! You''re out here wasting time with ridiculous moralism! When you should be either training or with girls making more...!" He blinked once and suddenly found himself in the present once more. He seemed to realize then, even without me saying a word. He let go of my shoulders and took a couple of steps back. "Sorry about that." He said. His voice so faint that I almost couldn''t make it out. "I forgot myself. You didn''t need to hear that." He coughed into his hand before repeating himself. His voice then took on a deeply caring tone as he said that. His hands going to is chest, before moving to his pockets. "And don''t think I don''t appreciate my number one employee! Here!" He handed me a rather large bulge of hundred-dollar bills. "Some spending money to have on you. Consider it a tip in addition to all the money I''ll be putting into your local account later today. Should be enough to get your own mitts on whatever your heart desires." Chapter 43: Tangled Roots. The next few days went by in a blur. My body almost seeming to move by itself as my mind pre-occupied itself with spreading more and more magic. To giving more and more commands to my ever-increasing army of drones and experimental creatures while the collection of trees that acted as pillars for the pseudo-Dungeon kept growing taller and thicker. Similarly, the number of people working on the farm grew day by day after that loon''s visit. Up to a thousand the last time I counted. The newcomers were always in awe at first. Always bone-thin too. The more senior workers did most of the explaining and orientation for these new arrivals. Filling in the gaps that the loon and his accomplices might have left out for whatever reason. Then the senior workers got to harvesting. Their now healthy bodies moving with an elegant grace as they stripped entire patches of farmland clean within hours. before then moving on to the next patch and then the next one and the next one after that. To say that I was surprised at the suddenness of the improvements would be like saying the loon could be a bit odd at times. That is, a massive understatement if there ever was one. The newcomers always seemed to agree with me, given that they always spent their first few hours staring instead of eating. However, they too turned to feasting and harvesting before long and before long they too began looking less like concentration camp victims and more like pro-athletes and models. On average, the most major changes took place after an individual''s second night here, but I''d also seen a few cases where some ghoulish-looking individuals gave up on harvesting and just went all-in on the produce. Those guys tended to show signs of renewed vitality within hours. Or after consuming three or four times their own body-weight in apples. The idea of chastening those few people and getting them to work had never even crossed my mind, but the mere fact that I had stared at a few had created small bouts of panic among the senior members. I hadn''t thought too much about it on the night of the sixth day, when I decided to take my second round of sleep of the week. After all, everyone in the field worked way too much already. Without pay to boot. If that insane bastard Mr. Robertson expected individual quotas from these people on top of that then he''d have to find someone else to enforce them. Presumably someone who would be as morally bankrupt as he was. Maybe a serial killer or a drug dealer or a lawyer or another, less accomplished human trafficker. So, I awoke on the seventh day to the sound of a dozen people being viciously beaten by their coworkers. I managed to break the lynch mob before anything too crazy happened but the 200 or so fresh arrivals got the message nonetheless. None of them took more than ten minutes at a time to eat that day. Despite all my very frequent protests, assurances that it would be fine and loud bouts of profanity directed at the loon and all his cronies. No one listened. Just like the loon had predicted, these people seemed to believe that being here was a privilege, rather than the result of a crazed codger''s ambitions. No one tried to run. No one complained. No one so much as acknowledged my rants. If anything, me badmouthing the old coot only made people work faster. Even then, there simply wasn''t enough manpower to rip the vegetables from the ground and the fruits from the branches. Not at the rate they were growing. Not at the rate the farm was expanding. Certainly not at the rate new trucks were teleporting in and out. So, I had to bring up a few hundred drones to help with the harvest and then I had to send them back down when they scared the living daylights out of the newcomers. Which was a moot point in any case because the loon showed up with another thousand or so people the next day. I did my best to focus on the farm then, just as I did whenever he showed back up. Trying very hard to avoid looking at him in hopes he went away. Like a bad dream or some mythical goblin that stole candy from little children. ''Now that I think of it, I wouldn''t really put it past him.'' Sadly, it didn''t work. "Cecil my boy! How have you been?" I felt my body cringe at the question. My mind replaying our last conversation over and over. Specifically the part where he''d disclosed what he''d thought of me. And what he''d expected. "Fine." I said simply. Trying to focus on the magic flowing through the roots beneath my feet. "That''s great to hear." Mr. Robertson continued. "You know, the work you''ve been doing really has been invaluable to all of us. I can''t even begin to explain how much good we''ve accomplished in these last few days. Both here and abroad. I mean, wow! Just wow! You''ve got some of these people to 2''s in all their stats! Just from heavy labor alone! Imagine what they''ll be able to do when the real Dungeon manifests!" That last sentence piqued my interest, if only for a second. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. My own training had only intensified after he''d removed his mask, but the gains I was getting per day were shrinking more and more. And that was with me lugging around several tons of produce without rest for days on end. While also draining my own magical reserves over and over again without stopping. While also keeping a steady connection with an ever-increasing number of creatures and having them grow the little pseudo-Dungeon I''d prepared. No matter how hard I tried as of late, I couldn''t help but feel as though I''d hit a wall. The crazy coot had the nerve to laugh then. Despite me not saying anything. "Oh Cecil! That''s what I love about you! No matter how hard you work, you always find a way to surpass my expectations! You know, most children your age would be on their knees begging to go hoke or to get some days off to play video games or something. Not you. I purposely gave you the freedom to take as many days of as you wanted, but the notion of treating this retreat as a break never even occurred to you. It says a lot about your character. About your work ethic. It means you''ll go far." An image of what my new goal was flashed into my brain and I immediately rushed to think of literally anything else. The last thing I needed was this freak catching on to... "Cecil. I don''t mind that you want to hurt me." Mr. Robertson interrupted. ''Oh. Oh no.'' "No. Really. I don''t. It''s good to have a goal one can aspire to. And I do deserve the ill feelings after my outburst. I''m at least mature enough to admit that." He drew in a deep, heavy breath. As if to steady himself. "I also possess enough self-awareness to know that we''ve put a lot of pressure on you when you''re only 14. That was wrong. I felt that I had good reasons for doing so back then and to an extent, I still feel that. But it doesn''t make what we''ve done to you any better. I deserve the grudges you''re keeping now. Just like I deserve all those things you''re thinking about me." He hesitated. "I also deserve all the suspicion you''re treating me with. It is true that this apology is too little, too late and it is true that I still plan on having you work the farm. At least part-time. However, I want to involve you in the process now. I want you to feel like your opinions are heard and appreciated. Because they are. While we have been pushing a lot of burdens on you, those burdens should come with both recognition and a say in things." He stopped. "Does that make sense?" "Yes. Thank you." I said. While once more trying very hard to keep my true thoughts hidden. The loon sighed. "I understand." He said at last. "I''ll leave you to your training again. The new Dungeon should be up and functional by tomorrow. When it manifests, I''ll bring in your classmates and the older children so that all of you can have a crack at it together. I realize that no one has gotten much use out of your experimental false Dungeon yet, but I''m sure all your peers will be able to appreciate the work you''ve put into this project before they actually tackle the Dungeon. After a day of delving, I''ll send you home for a week of rest and normal schooling. The curriculum in our circles is more magic-focused so I think you''ll like it. And being next to your friends will do you some good." With that, the loon turned and walked towards a clearly exhausted Casper. With all the casual grace of a villain who''d gotten everything they wanted with minimal effort. That gait, that lack of concern, was infuriating. Almost as much as my own weakness. My own helplessness. What I wanted to do... What I felt was the right thing to do, would have been to run. To expose this maniac to the world and to then start growing magical gardens all over the place so people could take as much food as they wanted. Free of charge. But I couldn''t. Even if I discounted how much of a filthy cheat mind-reading was, everyone else in Dunstonberry was an invincible superhuman compared to me. Even someone my age like Julian or Fernanda or Elsie would be able to break me like a twig, simply by virtue of being more experienced and a higher level. Their raw stats made them stand head and shoulders above me, no matter what I did. To say nothing of guys like Casper, with his literal teleportation or Coach Russell and his broken stats. The more I thought about it, the more helpless I felt and the more helpless I felt, the angrier I became. My heart roiling with a burning, searing grudge that I couldn''t act upon. Until it festered like a pus-filled wound. ''It''s just like that night. When that fugly Candice bitch was making fun of my aunt. I''m furious, but I can''t actually do or say anything because everyone else is so much stronger than me. I''m a prisoner. I''m being treated nicely because I can contribute food and because I haven''t made any big problems for my jailors. Yet. But that doesn''t change the fact that I''m trapped.'' And the stats had slowed down. Right when I needed them most. Right when I started working harder than I''d ever worked before. It felt as though there were walls around me. Stretching unto infinity in every direction. The fact that they were invisible, didn''t make them any less real. It was yet another layer to the feelings of impotence. To the humiliation. ''I won''t stand for it. I can''t.'' I thought to myself. ''I have people that are relying on me. My aunt and uncle and little Eva. I can''t stop now. I have to get stronger. Strong enough that even sick freaks like Mr. Robertson think twice before messing with me.'' But the more I thought about it, the more I kept going round and round and round again. Levelling and improving myself took time. Time that I would have to spend being complicit in this farce. ''Then there are the numbers to consider.'' I recalled bitterly. ''Even if by some miracle I can get a good five levels in the next month, I''ll still be outnumbered and outclassed by thousands of cronies loyal to the loon and his sick fantasies. Including my friends. And their families.'' That last part was especially poignant to me. The money and the weapons and the resources could potentially be dealt with. I had considered the monsters I had grown and the new versions I was making every day and I figured they''d at least be enough to buy time. If used correctly. But the thought of fighting my friends? Their families? Did I have it in me? I cursed myself again and resumed my training session. Figuring that it was at least a surefire way to make some progress. Then I stopped. My toes feeling an odd sensation from the grasses and the roots below me. Carried all the way from the thick, twisting roots of the halls I had dug up. There were creatures down there. In the lowest depths. Ones I hadn''t created. Materializing from new passages that opened up from beneath the earth. Those creatures then faced my own monsters. The roses and the sunflowers and the tulips and the new green-bean brutes I had fashioned from drones. I couldn''t tell exactly how many were coming up for their first taste of surface air. Nor how varied they were in size of strength. What I could tell, was that my own forces were rushing down to meet them. Matching them, blow for blow. Bloodlust for bloodlust. And that my team was winning. Then, I felt the feedback and recalled the sudden boost to my stats I''d gotten after delving last week. I was running down to the tunnels before the people around me had a chance to blink. Chapter 44: Ravenous Tide. I felt the changes as soon as I crossed the threshold of the tunnels. My skin shivering and vibrating with the buzz of fresh magic. Raw and pure, unlike anything I''d felt or tasted before. The deeper I descended, the more that influence could be felt. Seeping into the walls my drones had carved out like stains on a carpet. Yet, there was something odd about it all. I felt the roots tingling. As if there was some force trying to pry them apart. And failing. ''Is this the process of natural Dungeon forming?'' I wondered. ''Is it trying to make wider halls? Or is it trying to merge all the passages into a single tunnel like that of the Dunstonberry Dungeon? What kind of force is compelling these changes? Is it aware of itself? Or is the magic following some baser instinct? Or is it merely the natural outcome of so much magic rushing at once in the same direction? Like pressurized water being released from a breaking dam?'' Too many questions. Too few answers. I brushed them all away and kept descending. Down, down, down. Ever downwards. Past the familiar corridors my drones had been hollowing out day in and day out. All while the magic in the air became thicker and thicker. By the time I''d reached the third floor of my would-be imitation, the ambient magic felt like a thick, impenetrable fog that clouded most of my mundane senses, while empowering my ability to sense the life around me. By the time I''d reached the fifth floor, that thick fog felt like a curtain of water. My body giving me the feedback of trying to run through a river neck-deep in water, instead of the actual root-covered passages I was traversing. By the time I''d reached the seventh and last floor I''d carved out, that water felt more like honey or molasses. My body felt dull. Heavier than before. I''d never actually been drunk before, but I imagined this was what drunk people felt like when they were stumbling down the street. I tried to draw in a deep breath, but the magic in the air seared my lungs from the inside out. Yet I kept going, going, going... Pushing past the awkwardness and the goosebumps breaking all over my skin. Until I reached the breach where the magic was leaking through. It looked like a circular hole where the floor had simply given way. Solid bedrock having crumbled to dust and revealing another world beneath the stone. Inside the new aperture was another cave formation. Only with a high ceiling that left a sizable gap between it and the floor beneath. The walls of this new biome were completely covered in brilliant amethysts. Precious stones the size of cars coming together and interlocking so that it gave the impression of an abstract painting. The scenery appearing as if every detail had been hand carved while also looking like the end result of molten gemstones being frozen in place. In short, it was all breathtakingly beautiful. So much so that being here reminded me of the awe I''d first felt when me and my friends first explored the fourth floor and all its colorful coral growths. As I stepped closer, I began feeling sharpened edges pricking my exposed feet. I looked down, expecting to see loose gemstones scattered about the place. Only to realize I was looking at the remains of some crystalline golem. One that had been brutalized to the point of shattering into a thousand, thousand scattered pieces. ''Even like this, broken and disgraced, it remains beautiful.'' I mused. ''I wonder if I could make something like it? Maybe. Given enough time and assuming the loon doesn''t find a way to get what he wants without having to care about me or my family.'' I kept going. Moving ever-downwards until my ears began picking up the sounds of battle. There, a few dozen meters in front of me, was a column of the hulking sunflower brutes I''d created to push back the people farming topside. Back when I had presumed to train them while also working the farm. Opposite them was another golem. This time garbed in aquamarine and crimson hues. In a pattern that spiraled down from a single horn perched over an empty slate. Right where a face would have been on a normal human. Its lower body was far more alien-like too. Resembling the legs of a crab below the lower portions of the torso. The gemstone golem charged. The sunflower brutes countercharged. The former trampled the latter as tank would a row of small cars. Crushing and smashing the first and second lines with all the ease of a toddler bringing down a sandcastle. That progress stalled on the third line however. The brutes there had been mangled. Some impaled by crystalline legs and others skewered by protruding spikes found at the leg and arm joints or in the frontal sections of the torso. But others still had the strength to stand. Their thick legs digging deep into the floor so as to brace themselves against the oncoming assault. In contrast, those on the fourth line were mostly unharmed. "Push back!" I ordered. Suddenly overcome with rage and battle-lust from the connection I shared with my creations. "Strike it down with all you''ve got!" The remains of the third line used what strength they had left to wrap themselves around the golem''s crab-like legs. Stopping the massive monster in its tracks. Those on the fourth line began to punch. Using their thick arms filled with corded muscles to bash in the frontal sections of the golem. Small cracks appeared wherever the fists landed. Faint white spiderwebs that blossomed over the otherwise pristine surface of the golem. Yet the real damage came from the strikes that landed on its joints. The cavern was soon filled with the sounds of rapturous cracking and snapping as legs were separated from column-like thighs and thighs were separated from the central structure of the monster. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Until it was reduced to a legless, armless hunk of pretty rock formations laying helplessly on the floor. "Out of my way!" I ordered. Now rushing forwards with all the gusto of a butcher presented with a fresh carcass. I leapt through the air at the last second and brought down my full weight on the monster with both my fists clenched tightly together. THOOOM! The torso''s surface exploded with fresh cracks. I raised my fists and brought them down as one once more. THOOOM! The cracks deepened. Even as new ones came into being. I raised my fists again. THOOOM! And again. THOOOM!! And again. THOOOOM!!! "I will not be weak anymore!" I shouted at the thing. THOOOOM!!! THOOOOM!!! THOOOOM!!! "I will not let creeps like you push me around!" THOOOOM!!! THOOOOM!!! THOOOOM!!! "Just you wait! I''ll get stronger!" THOOOOM!!!! THOOOOOM!!!! THOOOOOOM!!!! "Stronger than anyone else you''ve ever seen! I''ll save my family! I''ll save them myself! I''ll save everyone else! From the monsters! From starvation!" THOOOOOOOM!!!!! THOOOOOOOOM!!!!!! THOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!! "And from you!" THOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!!! The torso gave way then. Shattering into hundreds of thousands of tiny pieces and flying in every direction. I raised my arms in front of me. Looking at the shredded ribbons of bloody meat they had become and staring as the pain gave way to relief. The wounds closing together before my very eyes. ''Not enough.'' I thought sourly. ''Coach Russell wouldn''t'' have been bothered by this much. Nor that loon.'' I clenched my bloodied fists. Not flinching from the flaring pain. I closed my eyes and remembered what it had felt like. Carlyle Robertson''s magic. It had been overwhelming. Like a rushing tsunami. And then it had been suffocating. Making me feel as if I''d been drowning. And after that, it had been inescapable. Inevitable. Like the full weight of an entire ocean bearing down on me from every direction at once. It had made me feel so weak. So scared. So small. "But not anymore. I will never allow myself to feel that way again." I clenched my teeth and gnashed them together until I feared they might crack and snap. "Never again." My ears pricked up then. My senses noting other amethyst golems coming from the deeper corners of the cavern. I looked down at the lines of sunflower brutes that had been crushed earlier. Feeling their pain. Their own helplessness. The way my magic and their own lifeforce faded. "Heal." I commanded. "Grow." I demanded. "Surround me like armor. Let us become strong." I felt them obeying at once. Vines coating me like layers upo9n layers of cloth, even as I forced my own body to grow as far as it would go. Plates of bone growing from the outer layers of my skin as all my muscles tripled or even quadrupled in size. "And the rest of you." I called out to all the remaining drones, rose goblins and tulip lamias I had in the tunnels behind us. "Copy the drone''s weapons. Meld yourselves together in new forms. Follow me."
The eight floor. Or the second floor of the actual Dungeon, was filled with thinner, more agile golems. They had eyes this time. Tiny pools of glowing magma that retained their shape despite being in a semi-liquid state. When threatened, these thinner golems danced around attacks and shot out beams of concentrated lava at whatever they were facing. These attacks only lasted a second or two at most, but the heat was potent enough to burn right through tens of bunched up monsters at once. At first I ignored them and ordered my horde to crash into them and draw their fire. With my armored mass following close behind and taking down each monster with a well-timed swing. It worked, for a time. But I soon realized that I was spending far too much magic reconstituting my forces after each engagement and that I was having to go back to the normal-ish soil and stone of my own pseudo-Dungeon now and again in order to grow entirely new legions. To put it bluntly, it was a massive waste of three hours. Which is why I changed our approach. Taking another hour to experiment with the patterns I already had. I took the drones that had green-bean gun-like mechanisms attached to them and made them two heads taller. So that they retained all their legs and their agility while being more humanoid in shape. Then I allowed my magic to flow into all of them. Trying out separate patterns. Those with the longest rifle-organs were called Sniperlings. Those with shorter, thicker organs were called Shotgunlings. Those with more standardized organs I called Riflelings. I enhanced all of them and further separated them from the standard drones by making them grow carapaces reminiscent of the sequoias and oak trees I had become so familiar with over the previous weeks. Then I merged newly-grown rose goblins with the standard Sniperlings. Coupling the aspects that worked with two feline eyes that captured more light and compounded, dragonfly-esque eyes that better sensed movement and trajectories. Creating a breed that was far deadlier and hard to hit due to their agility, proprioception, dexterity and overall perception. When I saw how well they handled themselves and how well they could perceive me without relying on our connection, I decided to add these same eye patterns to all my creations moving forward. The already existing rose goblins were mutated to grow even longer, sharper digits and I concentrated my magic so as to make then even thinner and quicker by condensing their muscles even further. Then I added organs that secreted the same venom as the scorpions from the second floor of the Dunstonberry Dungeon. Part of me hesitated when I suddenly recalled how to grow those things, as I didn''t recall examining them prior to that point, but I chalked it off as lingering memories from the time I blacked out. Those new creations were called Venomlings. The standard Riflelings were re-enforced with the tulips'' patterns of behavior and given an additional set of arms, while I merged the Shotgunlings with the remaining sunflower brutes. Making them grow even taller and more muscular than the other breeds. In a moment of inspiration, I''d also selected a few groups and merged them together so that their new combined mass towered at 3 meters. With three layers of bark carapace. each of which were separated by more layers of muscles composed of plant matter. To these few units, I gave six arms on their right side. All shaped to normal green-bean shotguns. On their left sides, I fashioned a single, interwoven arm that was coated in additional layers of bark carapace. One that could fire pellets as big as a human chest. These, I called Cannonlings. When at last we returned to the thin golems, a single shot from one of these hulking beasts took out a monster from several hundred meters away. The projectile retaining most of its kinetic force despite being fired from well outside the golem''s own range. I smiled a predatory smile and kept moving forwards. The ninth floor was filled with many-legged golems that resembled house centipedes, but also with giant grogs with stony outer skins, bats with three sets of wings whose eyes glowed a baleful green and bipedal mixtures between cows and crocodiles with long, spiked tails that they swung like swords. Five volleys from a three firing lines culled half the gargantuan chamber. Two more volleys took care of the rest. Then we descended. The tenth floor showed a change in biome. With far more diverse forms of life meandering about and preying on each other in a more vibrant imitation of a real ecosystem. The floor here was composed of fine grains of sand, with half a meter of clear water on top. So that normal humans would have to wade through a beach-like terrain in order to advance. The ceiling in this place was filled with brilliant diamonds the size of dogs. Criss-crossed with upside-down rivers of blue lava that flowed gently between the protruding gemstones. In that liquid, viscous soup swam half humanoid ammonites. Who bore a simian face that peeked out from within spiraling gem-encrusted shells. Those who glowed red took occasional potshots at my legions. Spurting torrents of white fire in wide arcs that sputtered and died before reaching us. Those who glowed a dark blue intermixed with purple crackled with bouncing arcs of electricity. The Sniperlings made short work of them. Their bodies losing their grip and falling down towards the floor after their shells were penetrated by the Dum-Dum rounds and their encased seeds sprouted from within. The rest were handled easily enough by a charge of Shotgunlings whose advanced was covered by cannon and rifle fire. The complete extermination of the tenth took less than 30 minutes once all was said and done. I spent another ten gathering up bits and pieces of fallen monsters. Trying to replicate their magics by re-animating body parts or grafting them unto my existing troops. In the end, I found the most success with a mixed approach. Bringing to life the body parts that produced gouts of flame or arcs of lightning and encasing them in specially made pockets within my creatures. Usually within the arms themselves, in vacuous chambers adjacent to the firing organs. To make sure the creatures could handle such powers correctly, I endowed them with two more sets of eyes and enlarged skulls to house larger, more complex brains. All of them connected to thicker, more complete central nervous systems and an added central brain near the stomachs to boot. Something about those particular additions made my spine tingle, but I couldn''t put a finger on the cause. Regardless, I''d just created two new kinds of plant lamias. The Torchers and the Shockers. And together, we descended once more. Chapter 45: Parasitism. The eleventh floor was, once again, a more complete ecosystem. Both the floor and the ceiling were filled with wide craters. Each large enough to swallow one of my Cannonlings whole. Within them were pools of thick, viscous slime with the consistency of gelatin that held spots which glowed with a beautiful variety of vibrant greens, burning reds and spectral blues. To my admittedly untrained eyes, they looked like collections of bacteria living within the slime. Coming together to form patches that resembled the night sky and all its stars. The magic which emanated from these pools only added to the allure. Giving me the same feedback as I''d gotten from my fields when I worked them out in the refreshing open air of the surface. Between each pool were paths of solid bedrock. Each one ranging from half a meter to three or four meters in diameter. They crisscrossed the landscape as far as my eyes could see. Stretching on and on for at least a couple of kilometers. And speaking of which... "Holy jumping spiders! How big is this floor!" For the first time since beginning my descent, I was unable to see the opposite walls encompassing the floor. Even with my enhanced senses and the new and improved eyes I had grown atop the layers of sunflower brutes I had assimilated atop my now bone-plated skin. At some point, the terrain became suffused with a thickening cloud of fog that remained in place. Blocking off my vision and hiding all manner of monsters within it. As for the monsters I could see.... Well. There were a lot more. Manta-rays with two pairs of wings that glided lazily about the ceiling. Their bodies leaving trails of light whenever they passed through an area. Giant snails the size of dogs that crawled along the walls. With shells that shone a baleful emerald glow, tinted with shades of black. Beetles the size of cows. With red shells the opened up whenever one took flight. Their wings glinting like freshly sharpened blades. I saw small crabs and big crabs. Some the size of normal human shoes and some that were larger than even my super-sized form. Some with small tentacles instead of pincers and some whose pincers were formed into the shapes of swords and shields. I saw small monkeys with jet-black eyes. Their fur a loud orange crossed with mossy green. They had three tails each and in each a flower with crimson petals. I saw monsters with feline bodies and butterfly wings. I saw bears with the skin of rhinos. I saw octopi that floated about thanks to bulging air sacs and feathered serpents that leapt in and out of the thick fog in the distance. Their large flat heads retreating into its embrace or into the pools whenever their eyes spotted me staring back at them. And that wasn''t all. Transparent flat fish leapt out of the slimy pools now and again. Their organs and circulatory systems visible under the dim glittering lights coming from above. They lacked teeth and in their place had a sort of proboscis organ that looked nearly identical to a mosquito''s mouth. Yet the oddest part of them was their eyes. Each one was a deep dark yellow and as big as a bowling ball. When compared to the rest of their bodies, the eyes easily made up 25% of their total mass. Making me wonder how they managed to swim and leap through the thick fluids of the pools. What''s more, there was an odd hypnotic feel to them. Almost as if my mind were conjuring distant pleasant dreams from the recesses of my psyche the more I stared at them. I remembered simpler times. Before I had to worry about global catastrophes and lunatics with secret cabals and far too much money and time on their hands. I recalled how uncle Uter had taken me and Eva for ice cream at a fancy parlor. I thought back to the time Eva dropped hers and I gave her mine in turn. I remembered... how bright her smile had been. How proud uncle Uter had been. How warm and fuzzy I had felt back them. Then I started feeling a slight pain in my forehead, as well as the flow of my magic towards the afflicted area. Moving in the same way as it did when it was healing me. Then I cursed under my breath and ordered all my Sniperlings to focus their fire on the damn things. The manta rays were shot down by regular Riflelings as well and I had the Cannonlings fire indiscriminately upon the thickest concentrations of life. Thus were the crabs, the beetles, the monkeys and the snails killed off by the dozens. My creatures dealing death from the safety of our lines. The Torchers were set upon the pools after that. I had each and every one lit up as we marched and I marveled at how flammable the gel-like substance was. All those craters lit up like oil drums. Releasing scathing waves of heat that could be felt even through the many layers of living re-enforced tissue I was wearing. In fact, I slowed down the columns halfway through to create a new kind of creature. One made from thin, yet flexible vines I grew out of my own body. I ordered them into the shapes of pot-bellied frogs. With powerful legs that would allow them to leap over vast distances and large wings that would allow them to glide down to their targets. And in their centers, I had them carry as much of the substance as they could without popping. With added sacs of flame-producing organs like the Torchers had on their backs. I called these cuties, Napalmlings. Nodding my head in satisfaction as I glanced over the first couple dozen to be born. ''Guess I should also dip my hand into one of the intact pools to make sure I can re-create the stuff for later. Might come in handy if I''m ever in a pinch.'' I did so and immediately cursed once more as I felt the gel come to life and try to drag me down to the bottom of the crater. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. At first, I thought that escaping would be easy. I was wrong. The power of the stuff''s pull redoubled after just a couple of seconds and my whole body fell in like a boulder. My senses telling me that the sunflower armor I had donned was being devoured alive by trillions of molecule-sized mouths. When the stuff had finished eating its way through, it reached the bony plates on my skin and tried to devour it as well. I used [Drain] in turn. Feeling vast torrents of magic going to the skill and feeling vast amounts of lifeforce coming back. Some of it turning into back into magic which then went back to maintaining the spell. I would have been screaming by then. Partly from disgust, but mostly from the agonizing, unbearable pain the flared all over my body. But I was too afraid of the stuff going into my lungs and stomach and eating me alive from the inside out. What''s more, I felt additional sharp prickles of pain as invisible things squirmed in the gel all around me. Some of them trying to bite their way through my skin and slither their way into my body. A few actually succeeded. But I felt my body reacting instinctively to counter the intrusion. My muscles turning to mouths and chomping away at the now desperate worms while they tried to retreat. ''Serves them right.'' I thought. Before I felt a new surge of magic forming in a brand new manner. As if my very cells were figuring out how to imitate the substance and devour it while draining it through the already active skill. The speed at which I processed the stuff almost tripled in an instant and I managed to collect myself to the point where I resisted the urge to climb out. Even as the stuff was trying to push me out. ''I feel more alive now.'' I thought to myself. ''Like I finally learned something new. That, and I get the feeling that this is the best training I''ve gotten in a long time.'' By the time I got out, the entire pool had been either drained of lifeforce or outright consumed. I moved my arm a bit and tried to have my muscles, tendons and bones mimic the semi-liquid way the slime had moved. I got it on the first try. And I found that I could sweat the stuff on command now too. Bonus. "Though I would have preferred if the damn things hadn''t left me naked." I mused. "Come to think of it, how come the Analyzer didn''t melt?" I looked down and the bracelet was still buzzing and vibrating with a new message. [New skill unlocked! [Assimilate] has been added to the status.] Then, out of curiosity, I looked over the changes to my stats. [Vitality: 10.1 -> 10.8 (Over 10 days.) - (Continuous physical exertion - carrying loads exceeding 900 Kg over prolonged periods of time. Monster hunting - estimated 74 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated 821 specimens killed indirectly. Enduring severe physical damage. Enduring severe corrosive damage. Enduring severe psychic damage. Enduring attempted parasitism. Sustaining life-threatening injuries. Being partially devoured. Experimentation with skills.)] [Endurance: 9.9 -> 10.3 (Over 10 days.) - (Continuous physical exertion - carrying loads exceeding 900 Kg over prolonged periods of time. Monster hunting - estimated 74 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated 821 specimens killed indirectly. Experimentation with skills.)] [Potency: 8.1 -> 8.4 (Over 10 days.) - (Continuous physical exertion - carrying loads exceeding 900 Kg over prolonged periods of time. Monster hunting - estimated 74 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated 821 specimens killed indirectly. Experimentation with skills.)] [Precision: 7.9 -> 8.0 (Over 10 days.) - (Continuous physical exertion - carrying loads exceeding 900 Kg over prolonged periods of time. Monster hunting - estimated 74 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated 821 specimens killed indirectly. Experimentation with skills.)] [Fortitude: 9.3 -> 10.2 (Over 10 days.) - (Continuous physical exertion - carrying loads exceeding 900 Kg over prolonged periods of time. Monster hunting - estimated 74 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated 821 specimens killed indirectly. Enduring severe physical damage. Enduring severe corrosive damage. Enduring severe psychic damage. Enduring attempted parasitism. Sustaining life-threatening injuries. Being partially devoured. Experimentation with skills.)]
Name: Cecil Fowler
Core: [Life] (7th Stage) / Gains skills from: [Adaptation] / [Constitution] / [Healing] / [Hunger] / [Effort] / [Animal] / [Plant]
Level: 1
Vitality: 10.8
Endurance: 10.3
Potency: 8.4
Precision: 8.0
Fortitude: 10.2
Skills: [Drain] / [Perseverance] / [Heal] / [Transform] / [Spawn] / [Terraform] / [Over-Mind] / [??? - Error - please see manufacturer] / [??? - Error - please see manufacturer] / [Assimilate]
At a glance, the best improvements had been in [Vitality] and [Fortitude]. The latter going up by almost a full point since I had checked the status out after waking up in my house with amnesia. Comparing the changes to last night however, a more specific cause for the improvements could be surmised. All this hunting had earned me an average of 0.1 points in each stat. Not bad for a few hours, but not ideal given how much I''d done and how much I''d pushed myself. The sole exceptions were, again, [Vitality] and [Fortitude]. Where I had gained 0.3 points in the last fifteen minutes alone. I thought back to the pain. The terror I''d felt while fully submerged and the disgust I was still reeling from after coming out. Then I thought back to how my gains had slowed and about how much I''d improved in just fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes. Out of the whole time I''d been here. Then I stared at the remaining craters. Trying to talk myself out of it. I failed.
The huge wall of fog had actually been a monster. Some kind of pixie thing that generated a gaseous version of the slime. Only, it was less potent and by the time I pushed through I was so used to the stronger stuff that the living fog didn''t even tickle me. The pixie, on the other hand, had a very bad time. As it turns out, the worms that had tried to bite their way inside me had been parasitic. Much like the ones that crawl inside of mantises and puppeteer them from the inside out in nature. Furthermore, [Assimilate] had allowed me to assess the things much more efficiently than usual. Combine that with [Transform], which allowed me to turn my arm into a green-bean rifle and [Spawn], which allowed me to birth creatures directly from my flesh at the cost of more magic consumption and I had effectively created a bio-weapon that shot out parasitic worms as ammo. Which the pixie did not find funny. Especially not when I shot one of those worms directly into its open mouth while it made fun of me through telepathy or something. I ended up spending the next ten minutes figuring out how to order the worm around through [Over-Mind]. Getting the helpless pixie to do whatever I wanted while it screamed internally. An understandable reaction, given the way the worm had bit deep into its brainstem. Regardless, I am not prone to sadism. So I promptly used [Assimilate] to devour the pixie boss whole. Thus gaining the ability to create the bacteria mist it used. "Maybe I should create a new kind of creature." I pondered aloud. "Something like a massive humidifier that shot out the mist. While also making sure the mist knows not to attack my other pets. Could provide cover and act as a deterrent. Come to think of it, the worm-gun is too good of an idea to waste just on myself. I should also make a Sniperling variant that can shoot them out." I decided to work on the project on our way down. Letting my troops do most of the fighting for the next couple of hours while I recovered my magic reserves. And with that, I led my troops down to the twelfth floor. Feeling a lot better about my status improvements and my progress in general. Chapter 46: Unknown Skill. The twelfth proved to be a very accommodating floor. In that it was, in fact, a forest. Or a flooded jungle, if one were being precise. Whatever the case, it was a floor filled to bursting with fertile soil and enough plant matter to quadruple my army''s size every few steps. So, I managed to do just that. While also managing to fit in a few experiments as soon as I''d descended the first few steps. Yay! On the other hand, it was also a floor with a particular theme. That theme being spiders. Boo! To make matter even worse, their numbers were endless. At any given time, my neat firing lines would be assaulted by swarming grey grease-covered spiders as big as cats. Charging forward by the hundreds from three or four different flanking positions. While larger brown spiders burst up from the ground like mushrooms to bite and skewer my rear guard with bladed legs and envenomed fangs. While even larger white spiders jumped down from the high ceiling on freaking webbed parachutes and bit down on the pals I had manning the middle lines. While even larger blue spiders literally teleported in. Bit and hugged one or two of my minions and then teleported out to enjoy them elsewhere. At least the Venomlings and the few specimens I''d kept as melee fighters saw some action now. Though they tended to be slower and clumsier than the monsters they were facing, and therefore lasted about as long as fruit flies in any given skirmish. And the fun didn''t stop there. In the span of twenty sodding minutes we were faced with red spiders that spat sticky, flammable webs that burst into small fireballs upon making contact with any surface. Purple spiders that shot out webs which they electrified mid-flight. Green spiders whose webs were coated in a corrosive substance which I very much suspected was stomach acid. There was even one kind of spider that was all dark orange, which I was sure took a steamy dump in front of me before running away. The smell was so abhorrent that I actually doubled over and vomited everything I had in my stomach. My body more or less paralyzed while another ambush raged on all around us. I ended up running away and using my magic to have my last purebred sunflower brute examine it for me. Turns out, it wasn''t a steamy pile of poo, but a ball of webbing with some chemical inside of it that spewed out pheromones. How very clever. Then I had to deal with the Yellow spiders that, when struck, burst open into smaller swarms of yellow spider, which themselves exploded into even smaller swarms about the size of a human toe. Before burrowing into the skins of my minions and trying the same thing on me. And as if those ones weren''t bad enough, I was soon dealing with pink spiders that tried the same trick the big-eyed psychic fish had tried earlier. Only these ones made me think their webs were an open bath or a sumptuous-looking meal. There were spiders that crawled and spiders that swam. Spiders that flew and spider that ran. Spiders that hid and spiders that planned. Those last two were actually one and the same in the case of a particularly annoying species. One that preferred to sit back while all the others attacked from every which way at the same time. Always preferring to retreat rather than fight head-on. With the intention of laying down a neat little trap that my minions would inevitably wander into whilst they were attacked by all the other kinds of spiders. The bloody things were black as night, as big as elephants and as quiet as owls mid-flight. Somehow managing to skitter across two dozen treetops with legs that were half as thick as the freaking trunks without disturbing any of the leaves or making any sort of sound. They hunted by coming together in groups and laying down traps in the form of webbing. Much like others did. Only, their webbing was actually, literally invisible. And strong enough that two of my Cannonlings had found themselves hopelessly trapped within a single well-placed web. Their bulk doing nothing but entangling them further. The fact that they were the first monsters I''d found that could shrug off green-bean bullets didn''t help matter either. Now, my first instinct after losing half of my new shiny army to spiderwebs was to burn the entire jungle down. I had plenty of Torchers after all and more Napalmlings than I knew what to do with. It was an intuitive solution. One that had the added benefit of being relatively swift and low-effort. Best of all, it would be satisfying to watch all those dirty cheating bastards burn while I stood over to the side. Giggling like a maniac. However, I wasn''t here to descend as fast as possible. Nor was I here to get a sense of satisfaction after dismantling an ecosystem. I was here to get stronger and the spiders'' strategy, as simple as it was, had proven to be highly efficient at stopping a superior force in its tracks. Moreover, there was material to work with and I had plenty of time on my hands. So, I sat right down and began to [Assimilate] a patch of webbing with one hand, while creating new and interesting creatures with the other. The first new batch I gave life to were the promising Sniperling variants. I made these new batches with three worms each. Tucked away in sacs adjacent to their firing arms. I also gave them another pair of arms, complete with scything, mantis-like claws which were coated in the slime from the previous floor. My reasoning being that I needed another melee unit that wasn''t as lanky and slow as the sunflower brutes while also no being as flimsy as the rose goblins or their improved cousins, the Venomlings. Also, I couldn''t make the creatures themselves produce the worms like they did the seeds, so I figured I had to make up for the low ammunition. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. I called them, Body-snatchers and moved on. For my next trick, I decided I needed something to act as a deterrent for the constant barrage of ambushes and something to clear a path for the rest of the horde to pass through. At first, I was leaning towards building off the sunflower brute template again, given how effective the Shotgunlings had been at crowd control. However, I decided against it, due to the simple fact that the jungle had very few open spaces where they could excel and most of the losses we''d suffered to the coward spiders had come from their number. Big and bulky had their place and that place wasn''t here. Instead, I went with the tulip lamia template and created a creature that was twice as long as the Torchers and the Shockers, while retaining a very lithe body. Their tails were filled with the bacterial colonies and their arms were built to function like water guns. Or, once they flexed their muscles a little, pressurized water hoses. I called them Corroders and moved on. The next idea I toyed with was a unit that could create cloud coverage over an area. Letting loose the same bacterial slime the pixie had used in gaseous form. Alas, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn''t get the tulip templates to work with this idea. The storage organs could only accommodate one or the other. If I made the model too big then it would have the same problem as the Cannonlings. Getting stuck all over the place and not being able to navigate the tight corners of the jungle quite as well. That was when I recalled the Slime-o-morph I''d created to act as a punching bag. It had insides that were mostly made of liquids and it moved about using flexible muscle growths that it could shift about when needed. At the same time, it could also mold itself into just about any shape. Including narrow, tubular ones. As Ramji had found out the hard way. What if I dedicated myself to creating something similar, like a water balloon, but filled with the colonies of corrosive bacteria? It would be vulnerable to penetrating attacks. At least more so than the tulips, what with it not having a solid bone structure or bark-like armor atop its skin and it being one large balloon. But the slime-o-morph had proven that such attacks weren''t necessarily a critical error in design. The tissues I''d created for my previous experiment were already resistant to corrosion, given the snail goo I''d placed inside of it hadn''t resulted in any harm. As a matter of fact, I could make it so that the outer skin was constantly covered in the corrosive slime. Kind of like an extra barrier to guard against popping. With the right combination of bacteria and muscle, I might even be able to get the goo to act as a sort of, glue. In order to stem the outflow of liquids in case of a piercing wound. Now that I thought about it, combining the corrosive slime with the snail slime I''d previously used could result in just such a compound. If not, then I was absorbing a powerful glue right now, courtesy of the spiders. I looked down at my other hand. Noting how it had worked its way through the web. Then I smiled.
"HAHAHAHAAHAHA!! Flee! Fly you fools! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! MY ARMY IS UNSTOPPABLE!!!" I roared. As three Siege Slimes tore their way through the jungle. The webs dissolving alongside anything else the aerosolized slime came into contact with. All while my own minions were able to pass through without issue. Thanks to me having the foresight to develop them further and coat all of them in a thin bacterial layer of their own. Yes. I totally didn''t lose most of my forces due to my own incompetence and had to re-grow new ones from scratch. I just, phased out the old guys, who were really lagging behind the monsters in terms of stats and overall performance, and allowed the new and improved models to roll off the soil like new tanks coming out of a factory. Yes. I am not an idiot. This was totally planned. And I''ll dissolve anyone who says otherwise. In all seriousness, the whole thing was really embarrassing and led to me spending a little more time on the floor. During my break, I created another creature. This time inspired by the thrice-dammed spiders. In essence, it was more or less the same as my drones. A spider, scorpion thingy with a stinger and grasping appendages in front and claws to dig the ground and everything. Only these ones were much, much larger. Easily the biggest thing I''d created so far. Looking at them now, I''d say they were about one and a half time the size of a bull elephant. Significantly bigger than the ambush spiders had been. Like the ambush spiders, I gave them the ability to spin their own webs, as well as specialized membranes on their bodies to go up and down those webs without getting stuck. Like the ambush spiders, I made sure they were smart enough to take advantage of their huge bodies so that they weren''t just big brutes I could throw out in droves to get minced by whatever monster showed up on the next floor. I did this by getting all up on their insides and growing a much, much more complex brain structure on each specimen. That, and I replaced the stingers my drones had with parasitic worm rifles. Ones many times more powerful than the versions my sleeker Sniperling variants had. I called them Infector Spiders and moved on to my next issue. That was, a severe lack of manpower. Important and useful as the upgrades had been, the fact remained that I only had about 25% of my magic remaining and that was with me taking several breaks to digest each and every spider species on the floor. My new armies might be deadlier and more impressive, but I was starting to think this wasn''t going to cut it on the next floor unless I lucked out in regards to the kinds of enemies I''d be fighting. No. This was the deepest I had ever gone. If I wanted to keep killing monsters and growing at this rate, I''d need to have an overwhelming numerical superiority. "Come to think of it, is this the deepest I''ve ever gone?" Looking at it from a depth perspective, it certainly seemed that way. After all, I was now on the 12th and the deepest I recall going before was the 6th floor of the Dunstonberry Dungeon. On the other hand, I didn''t know if that really counted, as the first 7 of those floors had belonged to my own pseudo-Dungeon and not the Dungeon proper. In that case, this would have been the equivalent of the 5th floor? Then again, that made no sense whatsoever given the difficulty. The Rippers were nowhere near as dangerous as the amethyst golem had been. Not to mention the fact that my older, far weaker green-beans had annihilated everything on the 4th floor back then and even coach Russell had admitted they''d been such a pest on lower floors that he''d had to get serious. With unimpressive results. I decided to try and use [Terraforming] again. To connect my mind with the Dungeon for a moment and see if I could get this floor to spew out my own creatures, as I''d managed back in Dunstonberry. The flow felt familiar as soon as I tried it. My mind drifting away into the soil and the trees and the very waters of the jungle. I felt that oneness again. Breathing as the life inside the floor breathed. Feeling as the very walls did. It was... Was... "Huh?" I said aloud. My mind going much farther than it had back then. "This isn''t how the skill works. Is it because of the stats? No. That doesn''t make sense. They''ve grown, sure. But they haven''t grown this much. Not enough to explain these changes." I felt my senses extending towards the surface. Seeping into the walls and burrowing inside them as termites would inside a wooden foundation. Then I felt my mind stretching. Further and further until the act became almost painful. I felt all the floors I had crossed so far, as well as the seven floors of my pseudo-Dungeon. They were changing, just like the ones belonging to the real deal. Growing wider and wider. The roots sinking further into the earth until they made up the very walls and support columns of the first ten floors, instead of just the ones I''d designed. Then, I noted the roots taking in more magic. Saw the walls birthing my original sunflower brutes and rose goblins and tulip lamias. I felt a connection to the whole structure and threw up as a torrent of magic was violently sucked away from me. My vision blurring as the entire world seemed to spin. And then, the new patterns I''d created started to be born as well. All connected to me, as the regular troops had been. All thirsty for blood. The last thing I witnessed, was the 12th floor twisting around itself. The trees growing eyes and fanged mouths. All their visages resembling mine own. Then I felt the strength leaving my legs, and the world went black. Chapter 47: I, The Proud. I came to, knowing that the child had done well. The improvements to the numbers were lackluster, as was expected. But the new magic more than made up for it. Not to mention the many new patterns of life the child had absorbed into this body. Quite impressive. I will have to renew my opinion of him. I would even go so far as to say that the child had outdone me, given the creatures the child had brought into the world. The variety and the creativity was most definitely a step above me. That, and all the ways each unit complimented the others gave me all sorts of ideas. ''Was he inspired by that game of his? What was the name, RTS? No. That wasn''t it. It was something like, Psychic Rampart 2? Yes. That was it. The child understood that having one or two variants was a poor use of biomass. There were too many weakness inherent in a creature that was average in all aspects, when differentiation didn''t cost us anything. Better to have a cadre of specialists working off each other, so that we could rotate them as needed.'' I took the lesson to heart and moved on to other things. Children had started to descend from the surface. They had encountered the simple brutes and had managed to drive them back. I was not particularly surprised. The child had implemented flaws in the design on purpose. For fear that they might have killed the weaker specimens. I believed the decision was regrettable, but the child had done so much for us that I decided that it was best to remain grateful. That did not mean I would allow the other children to trample over us though. I knew they were competition. Slow, lazy, feeble-minded competition, but competition nonetheless. I would not allow them to reach us down here. Not when I still had so much more growing to do. I recalled that the lusty fool and his son had been more or less as strong as us when they reached level 2. Their numbers had slowed their ascent and the highest they had reached was 12 in a few stats. I knew that they were considered geniuses. I knew I could do better. I knew I needed more time to reach our full potential. As for what that meant for our competition... I didn''t care whether they lived or died, but the child did care. So, I decided to thicken the first floor with Shotgunlings and Venomlings. Following that by creating barbed, nigh invisible surfaces on the second floor, whose lacerating thorns dripped with either venom or corrosive slime. Then I filled the second floor with Sniperlings, as well as Shotgunlings and Riflelings. Commanding the roots to entangle themselves into fortified bunkers made of hardened wood. I finished the fortifications by positioning a Cannonling as the first floor boss and a Siege Slime as the second floor''s boss. For the third, I added all the Lamia variants, as well as the Napalmlings. With an Infector Spider acting as a final boss. Then I paused, noticing how enchanting and enjoyable the process of laying down defenses had been. True, I had spent over 80% of our magic after just waking up with all my reserves filled to capacity, but I felt it had been worth it. I felt good, having outsmarted the other children. I knew it was immature of me, but that knowledge didn''t make the sensation any less enjoyable. ''That, and I feel our body screaming with agony. The exertion must have been too much, too quickly. The child will curse me once he awakens.'' I paused to gaze over the vast, mighty army the child had assembled before losing consciousness. All the hundreds of creatures that had spawned on this floor alone in the past 6 hours. ''If.'' I corrected. ''If he notices. If he awakens. I have a feeling that I will get much farther, much faster and much more efficiently than before. The suffering might have turned into more numbers by then. Or another level.'' I shelved the idea and commanded my host to move forwards. Downwards. But not before forcefully growing the child''s brain and mine own. If I was going to act as a leader, instead of a predator, then I needed to be smarter, not stronger or tougher or faster. I decided to experiment, influenced by the child''s creativity. I grew brains in my arms and brains in my hand. I grew brains in my legs and brains in my feet. I grew and thickened all my nerve endings and then forced my body to expand more and more so that I could fit more and more brain tissue. I was satisfied with the result. I decided to go further. I undid my arms and legs altogether and fashioned myself new appendages that could house larger, more complex brains. I had one of the Infector Spiders carry me to compensate. Ordering it to entangle me in a layer of webbing and making it even larger and more formidable before moving on. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. I would be leading from the back, so I would have others do the moving for me. I found the 13th floor to be a frozen forest. Filled with perpetual darkness and howling winds. I had my army wipe out all the life there and ordered them to feed me the bodies. I found the 14th floor to be a frozen dessert. A tundra where the winds and the chill cut deeper. I had my army wipe out all the life there and ordered them to feed me the bodies. I found the 15th floor to be a cold, damp, mushroom-filled forest, filled with creaking, rotted trees and fetid swamp water. I found something akin to a dragon there. Lurking beneath the surface. I had my army wipe out all the life there and ordered them to feed me the bodies. And then I moved on. Having recovered 20% more of my reserves and having lost a total of three units in the whole ordeal. All while the children had been broken by the first floor. I smiled to myself. Feeling something akin to satisfaction. Or perhaps pride. I descended further.
I found that the 20th floor was hot. Much too hot. It was filled with volcanic pools of lava that spewed out clouds of black ash and dust. I was frustrated when the web began to burn. I was more frustrated when the Freezers I''d created didn''t perform as I''d expected. They were more meat than plant matter. Based on the bears I''d found in the tundra. I had made them so they breathed the same freezing chemicals as the bears but their constitution made them vulnerable to heat. In fact, all of the units the child had made were vulnerable to heat. Even the Torcher''s chemicals were stored in different organs, only coming together when it was time to fire them out. I was frustrated about slowing down, but decided to stay put and work on fireproofing all the variants to some degree. I was more frustrated that the children had broken through the second floor. At first, it had all gone according to plan. The younger children had bashed themselves bloody upon my defenses an the older children had laughed. The younger children had expressed their worry after trying for hours upon hours and the older children had laughed. Then the older children had attempted the first floor and found my pre-prepared firing positions, bunkers, mines, envenomed vines and gaseous toxins. Along with all the other surprises I had added over time. They had not been laughing after their first failed attempt. The adults had gone and left the older children in charge so there wasn''t any chance of anyone pushing through with overwhelming force. The mightiest and oldest of them had been only level 4, after all. And she was far less potent than she should have been at that level. I guessed it was because she had been lazy when training on earlier levels. She could not have been over 6 in any of her stats when she rose to level 2, if she was that weak at 4. I saw her gathering all the children there for one combined push. I laughed at her surprise when my units retreated and flanked them from two adjacent positions, as well as from above and below. I laughed at her surprise when I detonated the chemical charges beneath the fortified positions, right as they were being overwhelmed for the first time. I laughed at her surprise when I had the roots cause a cave-in, sealing the adjacent tunnels, before filling them with the gas containing bacteria. They had escaped that trap without deaths, only because I allowed it. They had stopped coming for three hours, so as to plan their descent with my surprises in mind. When they did come, I wasn''t laughing anymore. They were now taking their time. Working of each other''s strengths and using their magics as often as they could without getting in each other''s way. It was slow going for them, but they were making progress regardless. While my progress had stalled. I did not allow myself to be distracted and continued working on the new units. Occasionally eating one of the local monster, after the Sniperlings killed one and brought them back to me. I succeeded in my experiments and the new units were all at least 50% meat, instead of mostly plant. This was because the new muscles I had eaten were far more efficient, far sturdier and able to support a fire-proof carapace that weighed less than the bark. I made it so that the new units were still covered in corrosive slime and even managed to get the bacteria embedded into their blood without hindering their bodies. I descended, as the children broke through the 3rd floor.
The 27th floor was the first in a long time to not contain any fire-related hazards. Instead, it was fully flooded with cool water. So that there was no place to breathe, save a few air pockets on the ceiling. I had tried to use Shockers in order to fry the existing specimens, but they all employed their own forms of electricity, so that didn''t go anywhere. I was forced to stop and use the Infector Spiders. I ordered them to fish with their nets so that I could trap aquatic monsters and eat them. Even then, it was a slow, agonizing process. I found the monsters down here far too strong. I estimated that, on average, it took continuous fire from at least two dozen of my own monsters to bring even the weakest runts down. I also knew there was nothing to be done about it. I was simply delving deeper than anyone else my level had any right to. I merely succeeded because of the size of my force and because of superior tactics. I knew the other children would have to be worried about being overwhelmed and running out of magic, if they were in my place. I knew that did not apply to me, because I could simply sit back and allow some units to be sacrificed while I recovered. I had so many I could not be easily overwhelmed and all the tactics I had become familiar with made it so the monsters would have to die in droves for every kill they made. I felt satisfaction, a the fact that it was a matter of skill, rather than pure, raw power. Still, I was frustrated again. I was forced to grow a new army from scratch afterwards, as none of my current units were fit for diving, save the Siege Slimes. I decided to send the other units up to the higher floors. I ordered them to pick up all the newborns that were now roaming about after being birthed from the walls. I had conquered their floors, so I was their master. I made them gather up into a force numbering thousands, so that they might form a countercharge against the coming children. They had broken through the seventh floor, though not without some effort. I had fashioned new and improved units based on the gem things on the 8th and 9th and I had added them to my existing strategies. Mainly as shock troops and living, moving cover for flanking Shotgunlings and Cannonlings. These, in combination with new and improved Worm Shooters had stalled their advance. I suspected that wouldn''t last long however. Better to break them now, while they were slowing down and running on fumes. I figured that would give me enough time to add actual fume-spewing organisms to the 8th, 9th and 10th. I had suffered enough losses due to the volcanic ash. I thought it was only fair that they got to know what it was like. As for the 11th and 12th... I was leaning on Stronger versions of the Shockers, hidden under the existing rivers, as well as new rivers that I had created on the 11th. I sat there, patiently. Gorging myself on the water-based monsters my spider fished out until I felt more bloated than ever before. My mass had increased so much that I was forced to create a new breed of monster, just to carry me around. I made it as best I could, of course. With the power to traverse water without issue. I also felt the children clashing against my countercharge on the 9th. I felt happy, seeing how savage the fighting was. How decisive the rout had been. I decided to chase them all the way to the surface, but to avoid killing any of them. I figured the child might have need of their services, after all. I also decided to have the force fall back to the 9th afterwards and to spend vast portions of my newly replenished magic on strengthening all the floors leading up to it. After I took over this floor and grew myself a new army. Chapter 48: I, The Explorer. I was very pleased with myself at the moment. I had brought all my units to the depths of the 33rd floor. Past several floors filled with nothing but water and all manner of treacherous marine creatures dead set on making a meal out of us. It had been a challenge, in more ways than one. I first had content with the reduced mobility of all my new units in the water. I then had contend with the fact that the seed bullets, which had been a staple of all my strategies thus far, were nowhere near as effective underwater. I also had to account for the two additional dimensions to combat, as monsters could easily swarm us from above and below with little to no warning beforehand. Add in the fact that all those floors were pitch black, and that most of the creatures found therein had ways to confuse or even nullify echolocation and it was a wonder anyone would have been able to descend so far in the first place. I was sure that I was special. I was sure that the degree to which I was special was not small. I was fairly certain getting past the lava zones would have been next to impossible at my level or even level 2, if I didn''t have an army with me. I was completely certain it would have been impossible, if my army wasn''t as versatile as it was. I was happy that I had overcome so many obstacles. I was pleased that I had done so in so little time. I was having trouble keeping track of time, but I could hazard a guess that it had been a couple of days. I made this observation due to having discovered a way to see through the eyes and ears of the trees on the surface. Growing the eyes and ears hadn''t been a problem. The real trial had been finding a way to develop nervous systems that could use those eyes and hear through those ears and keeping the trees free of mutations that might impair my sight and hearing as my magic rampaged through them. I found it to be a struggle, so far from the surface. Yet, my connection to the Dungeon floors that I had conquered and to my units, remained strong. Perhaps because of how much my brains had grown. Perhaps of how much practice I was getting. I found it hard to pinpoint a cause. I managed it, in the end. I was very surprised to see and hear that no adults had come in all this time. I overheard some of the older children speaking about the reason. I heard that a rival corporation, one run by people the old man hated, had tried to sabotage the truck shipments. I knew that was impossible, as the trucks were teleported by the gloomy man. One would have to be either another teleporter, or a human strong enough to overpower that magic in order to affect shipments. I could guess that those rivals could perhaps obtain the assistance of a teleporter. I did not find it likely, given the information the child had learned, but it was a possibility. However, I did not think it was possible for the enemies of the old man to find a human that could go against the lustful man. The latter would grind the former into paste, no matter what kind of resistance he faced. I remained convinced of this, because I did not think I could prevail against the lustful man. Not even with all the armies I had amassed put together. Not even with the advantage of preparation, strategy, and over thirty floors between us. I knew it was impossible. I knew it would remain impossible for a long time yet. So, I considered alternatives. I guessed that it might have been possible for a competitor to track one or more of the trucks. I would have waited at one of the stores, and then followed the vehicle back to where it had come from, if I were in their place. If that had happened, I might have been able to glimpse the moment where a truck disappeared into thin air. If that was caught on camera, then the old man''s faction would have to be very careful about controlling the damage and making sure their magic was not revealed. I figured it would make sense for the old man and the lustful man and even the gloomy man to focus their efforts elsewhere if that was the case. They would figure the child had been practicing in the upper floors of the Dungeon. At least, that would have been their likely conclusion if the child wasn''t present when they brought all the other children to train. They would have been safe in the idea that the child would be in good hands, as the older children would take charge of the situation. If they bothered to note his absence at all. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. As things stood, the older children were panicking on the surface. They had not been able to contact the old man in days and they had still not been able to break through the new defenses I''d placed on the 7th. I didn''t blame them for this. In fact, I was even impressed they made it that far in the first place. I had been updating the upper floors whenever I chanced upon a new and interesting monster. I had come across a lot of interesting monsters as of late. I had seen, or rather, heard, eels with heads at both ends that could phase through walls and whose eyes could emit a curse energy that paralyzed foes. I had heard sea-roaches, only as big as a human fingernail, that would swarm in the thousands to completely cover prey. They could vibrate their bodies at frequencies so fast that they could make incisions with extreme precision. Burrowing under their prey''s scales or skin in order to eat them from the inside out. I had heard jellyfish. Smaller specimens than the boss the child had fled from so many days ago. Ones that somehow maintained a field of electricity around themselves at all times. Not allowing the deadly current to dissipate in order to keep it as a permanent shield. Not that it needed it, with how much venom and poison it carried within its invisible tentacles and body. I found all these monsters troublesome. Not only to kill, but to eat and re-use as well. I could not make any sense of how the eels phased through matter. Just as I could not figure out how the blue spiders on the 12th had been able to teleport in and out of the child''s lines to kidnap and prey upon his vulnerable units. I could not make any sense of how the roaches vibrated with so much force underwater. Nor how they could coordinate so freely when I copied other monsters in jamming echolocation. I also could not figure out how the jellyfish maintained their electrifying fields around themselves. Magic, was the answer I came to, but that didn''t tell me anything. I knew better than to eat any monster cores, as I could feel the wrongness they would lead to in regards to my own core. I could force some of those cores on my own units, but their magic was a mirror to my own. Most of them died within minutes, if not seconds. I had plenty of units as I had spent plenty of time inching my way across the many floors, but I could not delude myself into thinking these lives were cheap. I was all too aware that even the weakest monsters down here could kill me in seconds, due to the raw difference in stats. The children would have to be level 4, and well-trained level 4s at that, in order to thrive here. In the end, I managed to replicate the magical curses, but only by [Assimilating] the eyes directly into a unit. Nothing happened when I ate them. Nothing but cramps and a terrible aching in the few parts of my current body that were not pure brain tissue. And I couldn''t make units spawn with the eyes already implanted on them, so that was another disappointment. I did manage to replicate the roaches'' burrowing behavior, but not to the point where they could do it underwater. Moreover, the ones I spawned had a very short lifespan. A few minutes at most, though that hardly ever happened. I also failed to replicate the toxins of the jellyfish in their entirety. When I ate a sample, the corruption was so overwhelming that I had to stop all my movements and focus all my attention and magic on healing myself. Only after did I realize how close I had come to death, as I had been at full capacity when I first ingested the tissue and I was down to 5% of my magical reserves when it was over. On top of all that, I did not manage to fully digest it. I survived because of my quick thinking, as I grew claws to disembowel myself and remove my stomach and all my intestines in their entirety, as well as all the body parts that had been afflicted. It been painful, but it had been a learning experience. The magic of these monsters was several times that of my own. I could not afford to look down on them, even after they were dead. I did make some improvements though. I upgraded the ammunition of all my units so that they worked underwater. I did this by replacing the seed-producing organs of the bio-weapons with organs that produced sea-roaches. This way, it did not matter if they had short lifespans. All they needed to do was live long enough to burrow inside a target and rupture important organs. Add in their natural ability to swim at speeds even these monsters couldn''t dodge and the fact that I had filled their bellies with a mixture of corrosive slime and the bits of jellyfish toxin I was able to process and the resulting arms were a step above what any of my units had possessed before. Something the children above had found out after their latest attempt to break through. I had a feeling the one called Ramji would try to murder the child upon their next meeting. I thought that was a problem for later though, and I figured there was a good chance it wouldn''t be a problem in the first place. I noticed a sudden sharp increase in numbers when I arrived at this latest floor. I knew that was the sign of an impending level-up. I also knew it was critical to make as many gains as possible during this last chance to train ourselves and that each new point I gained would be doubled when the jump finally happened. It was with this knowledge that I descended further into the abyss. Until I and all my units passed a film of water that somehow remained glued to the ceiling. I fell. I found myself on another downward path, now leading to the 34th floor. I was glad, as this meant the children would not be catching up to me anytime soon, even if they made it past all the re-enforced floors I had left behind for them. I tried to connect myself with the latest floor I had conquered. Attempting to subvert it to my will, just as I had done with all the others. Just like the last 10 floors, it was hard. I drained my magical reserves. Almost to their entirety. Then, I sat and began to rest while my magic returned. Focusing my mind on the task of unraveling other body parts I had absorbed and trying to find creative solutions to the limitations they imposed on my units. I waited for six hours and my magic reserves were full once more. I sent most of it back to the floor behind me. I then felt frustration, when I realized that much of the progress I had accomplished had reset itself in those six hours. I drained a good portion of my magic once more and went back to resting. I repeated this process two more times, until I finally gave up. I realized this timeframe was too critical to be wasted on attempting to conquer a floor that was beyond my means. I needed to train, now more than ever. I needed to eat and hunt and grow and kill and triumph. I could not do that while saving up magic to [Terraform] a floor. I descended and just as I was halfway through the 34th floor I felt a rumble. Not through the unit tasked with carrying me, but through my own magical senses. The Dungeon was growing. Wider, and taller. My current floor being pushed down, as some invincible power rose up to fully consume the first seven floors that I had created. The magic, the power... I breathed it in and I recalled the magic of the old man through the child''s eyes. That, had been the bite of a single insect, compared to the deluge engulfing me now. My unit knew it was happening too. Its insides ruptured when the force passed through it and I was thrown to the floor. Bathed in a presence so mighty it might as well have been divine. And then, I knew. I knew what had happened. The Dungeon had grown. For the first time, but not for the last time. And the 34th floor, had become the 47th. Chapter 49: I, The Survivor. I had a problem. I had a big problem. I was now stranded in a much lower floor. I wasn''t quite sure how that had happened. I had sensed more floors growing between those that were flooded and those that were burning. I had caught glimpses of space twisting against itself through my connection to my floors and all the units I had gathered within them. I had been stunned when that connection snapped shortly thereafter. I felt dread when I began to sense the flow of ambient magic around me. Fra from receding, the tide was only rising higher and higher. The very air becoming saturated with more potent energies than before. I noticed the changes at once, as they affected all life on the floor. Not just me or my units, but also the rest of the monsters that were behind and in front of me. I sensed that those who had been present had either been killed outright or been stunned by the shockwave. I likened it to a difference in pressure. From a magical perspective. The sudden tsunami had flooded the cores, as well as the bodies. Overloading them until the strain was nearly unbearable. I vaguely recalled something similar that happened to divers out in the ocean. When they rose up to the surface too quickly. I remembered the child shivering when he watched a documentary. I thought there was a word for it. Embolism? Maybe. I didn''t think that mattered too much right now. I did think what happened next was noteworthy however. The walls, floor and ceiling of the current floor began to melt. The hard surfaces becoming semi-liquid while still retaining their integrity. The child would have guessed the entire Dungeon was about to collapse. I knew better. I could feel the changes, through a new perspective. I now saw the Dungeon as a living, breathing, developing young organism. I now saw that it was akin to one big womb. I now saw that it was giving birth. To greater numbers of more ferocious, more powerful monsters. All of whom wasted no time in gorging on their elders. Ripping apart their previous counterparts as easily as I would in their place. I couldn''t help but be fascinated. Captivated by the beauty of it all. I realized I had been lucky. Overly proud. The monsters I had been killing were strong, yes. But even the most powerful ones I had come across so far would have been on the lower end of level 4. More or less the same as the older child on the surface. I had prevailed because of my overwhelming numbers, combined with my tactics. The advantage of superior range, combined with the overlapping ailments and conditions I and my army could inflict made up for the shortfall in power, if barely. Any one of the older monsters might have been able to kill me in one hit, but they would have had to cross hundreds of meters of adhesive, electrified, freezing, slashing, burning, envenomed and corrosive webs first. Not to mention having to deal with small cuts from sacrificial Venomlings and burning boils from Napalmlings. Constant corrosion from air-borne bacterial attacks from the Siege Slimes. Attempted invasions of parasitic worms from Body-snatchers and Infector Spiders. Covering fire from Riflelings, Sniperlings, and Cannonlings, all of whom were firing Burrower Roach Rounds that delivered further concentrated payloads of venom and slime upon their own death. As well as the occasional flanking maneuver from Shotgunlings, Torchers, Shockers and Corroders. In addition to all those regular units, I also had specialized surprises which I had tailored to specific monsters. Such as the amethyst-covered Shield-bearers I had deployed against the children in order to slow their advance. It was slow going, but I had been confident of achieving victory with those odds. If I was proven wrong, all I would have to do is fall back to re-group and further adapt my units to the current challenge. Mighty as they were, the monsters I''d been killing could have been described as stupid. Driven more by instinct than anything else. A need to feed, combined with a need to defend themselves. Even the ambush spiders, which had been the smartest ones I had faced so far, could not form plans beyond setting traps and making the fights easier for their lesser cousins. I knew these newborns were different at once. Not only did they encroach on level 5, but the way they carried themselves, their own internal magic, was far beyond anything their previous counterparts had been capable of. I knew that it was far beyond anything I was capable of, even at these distances. Even while spying on them through the eyes of sacrificial units I had sent ahead to scout. The new 47th floor was a field of mud. Wet, pulpy soil that looked as if it would swallow anything that stepped on it whole in the manner of a hungry maw. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. The monsters ranged from fish the size of horses to centaurs with webbed appendages and finned tails the size of whales. aside from them, there were large horned lizards with bladed tails that waddled on all fours and winged lizards that flew over the slaughter without a care in the world. Both smaller than the centaurs, though not by much. Yet the most fearsome beasts were twice as big. Colossal scaled raptors with oversized jaws and glowing eyes that did not sink into the mud despite their obvious weight and humanoid insects that dove in and out of the mud freely. Their hand-like appendages grabbing onto prey before dragging them down and suffocating them. I imagined several scenarios in which I attempted to kill the weakest of the new monsters. I could not imagine a situation in which I would win. Not at that time. Even the weakest of the things I saw, the giant mudfish, gave off an aura of pure bloodlust that told me they would cleave through my lines within seconds. I knew that continued exploration was out of the question until I was stronger. I even feared that reaching level 2 might not be enough to guarantee my safety on the current floor, let alone the next. I also knew that the previous floor, the one I had just conquered, would be far deadlier now, in addition to being more difficult to traverse for my units. I came to the conclusion that my current goal should be surviving this sudden change. So, I began to formulate an entirely new approach. I reasoned that I still had the bracelet and that it was still functioning. I knew that either the lustful man or his son would be checking on the children sooner or later. Either, or both, would be able to track the signal over to where I was. Perhaps the gloomy man would even be able to teleport beside me and retrieve me before that happened. Therefore, my best chances of surviving the Dungeon as to hold out for as long as possible. I reasoned that the first issue was that I could feel wandering monsters from the current floor finishing their meals and beginning to explore their surroundings. One or more might wander close to me in time. I reasoned that the second issue was that no amount of defences would keep me alive in a direct confrontation. I concluded the correct course of action would be to avoid a direct confrontation. I began by growing several dozen drones and ordering them to dig a big hole for me to hide in. The monsters might be able to sense whatever was in the mud, but the soft, traversable mud would end eventually, giving way to hard, nigh-impenetrable stone, just as with any other floor. I would then modify my mouth into a long tube and use that to breathe. While growing another layer of cartilage resembling an inert mineral. I decided on a layer of amethyst and moved on. I then began designing new units. Selecting parts and biological processes that favoured stealth, rather than coordinated assaults. My first new unit was a combination of insect and human, much like the giants that swam through the mud on this floor. I designed the carapace and skeleton to be as light as possible, since even a glancing blow would kill it in any case. I designed the appendages to be webbed, so that it could walk and crawl along the mud without sinking. I designed the eyes, ears and nose to be larger and far more developed and created redundancies in the kinds of sensory organs I added so that the creature could see with different kinds of specialized eyes and hear with different kinds of specialized ears. I designed it to be human-sized, but made it so that it was always hunched, with a low profile. I designed its outline so that it reflected echolocation and gave it both a natural camouflage in the form of its colors and an ability to blend in to its environment. I designed it to possess a far more potent Worm Bio-rifle, storing a single, far more developed and resilient parasitic worm. I designed it so that it could deliver hundreds of smaller, less developed worms through the strike of an oversized stinger. Lastly, I designed its brain, so that it was larger and more complex than those of any other unit. I gave it the ability to form independent thoughts and strategies. I gave it the ability to judge the relative strength of its opposition and the inclination to ambush monsters, or else lure then into the jaws of larger predators. I gave it the ability to formulate plans and tactics of its own and to act as a relay between me and the other units, in case another surge of magic separated us. Most importantly, I gave it the ability to command other units in my stead. In battles far removed from where I was at the moment. As for the worms themselves, I changed them so that they could burrow through tough bodies more efficiently. Giving them harder jaws, tougher skins and larger brains of their own. All that, to support a new experimental mechanism, whereby the worm would impregnate the host with larval versions of my new unit. Until such a time as they were ready to burst out of their corpse and start the process all over again. I reasoned this would allow me to keep the numbers up and make up for unforeseen losses. Or perhaps even increase my numbers even further. Moreover, by making the worms intelligent and resilient enough to abandon a host once a larger host had eaten them and giving them the imperative to dig their way out of the stomach lining of the new host into their own system, I created a method by which the largest and most menacing monsters might be slain from the inside. The chances weren''t good, but it was the first trial run of an experiment. So, I called my new units Subverters and let them loose upon the floor.
I was not rescued on the third day since the child first descended. I thought that was fine. The Subverters had outperformed even my most optimistic expectations. Most of them had died, but not before infecting at least one target. I even had the chance to force a few enslaved monsters over to me, so that I could [Assimilate] them. I was happy, since I would still be taking advantage of this last period of growth before the level up.
I was not rescued on the fourth day since the child first descended. I thought that was fine. I had reached the second level and all the units I produced from then on had benefitted from the new strength. I was able to concentrate more magic on each body. I was able to give each new body the ability to heal themselves and use limited versions of my own skills. I gave the new Subverters the power to grow more worms within themselves, after they had fired one. I gave the new Worms the power to reproduce new units at a far quicker pace and the power to partially [Transform] their hosts from the inside, while the latter were helpless to stop them. I gave both the power to [Drain] their victims of lifeforce. Both without and within. The new Subverters were capable of infecting far more monsters before being ripped to shreds. I called on them to bring me more and more monsters on the brink of death, so that I gained more power through each new [Assimilation]. I grew fat and pondered how to improve on the rest of my designs.
I was not rescued on the eight day since the child first descended. I thought that was fine. I had designed a smarter, larger and more devious version of the Subverters. I called this new unit, the Saboteur. I gave each one the power to command other Subverters, as well as other units the Subverters created through infecting monsters. I also created a more efficient relay creature. One which was all brain, with the ability to coat itself in bacterial slime and organs that would fill up with hot air in order for it to float through the air. Above the battlefield. I also discovered that they could act as batteries for me. Storing excess magic. They could not produce my own magic themselves, but this was fine. I called these new units, Masterminds and deployed them just in time to see the 47th floor conquered. All the superior monsters having been enslaved. One by one. I ordered them to come to me so that I could devour them. I then set my sights on the 48th floor. Sending Masterminds, Saboteurs and Subverters on ahead, while I remained put to dominate the 47th floor. And to gorge myself on its remaining inhabitants. Chapter 50: I, The Conqueror. I was faced with a dilemma. I had used these past two days to spread my influence much, much further. Relying on the Masterminds to act as batteries while the Subverters and Saboteurs slowly eradicated all resistance on lower and higher floors. When the time came, I would connect my own magic with that stored inside the Masterminds, and use the surge to push into the floors. Conquering them fully and using the Dungeon to [Spawn] more units in place of the regular monsters. Given the disparity between the regular monsters on these floors and my own units, I could bring them in by the thousands every hour. The excess magic that should have gone to raw power going to numbers instead. I had been so successful that my body was no longer able to keep up with the constant [Assimilation]. I had been forced to give new orders, that all defeated monsters be brought to me alive, so that I could make the fullest out of each and every kill. I then changed my form to that of a colossal pool, filled with the most powerful acid and bacterial slime that I could produce. The monsters died within me, one after the other, and my body absorbed their lifeforce through [Drain], [Assimilate] and the act of me consuming what tissues were left. I designed a new kind of creature called a Caretaker, and made a few hundred of them. I made it so that they could swim and crawl through the primordial soup unimpeded. Their task being to watch over me, in case any monsters found the strength to mount a last desperate stand. That, and to remove the monster cores from the brine. I had begun to feel curiosity, regarding cores and now planned to put the small mountain of them I''d acquired to good use. I loved how well this new arrangement worked, as I could conquer floors without leaving the safety of my current nest. All while gaining more and more stats on the bracelet through the killing pools. I also gained a new kind of comprehension for the Dungeon. A new kind of lust and hunger. The tide that had nearly led to my death was beginning to recede and I could feel the draining effect on the very floors and walls of the living undergrowth. Soon, they would reach a critical mass once again. Soon, the Dungeon would undergo another round of expansion. I did not feel fear when faced with this reality, unlike before. Instead, I wanted that power for myself. All these energies must have been coming from somewhere, deep below the earth. The Dungeon itself, had a core. One more powerful than anything I could possibly imagine. I wanted it. I knew I could take it, given enough time. If I could count on a lack of interruptions. If. The children on the higher floors had made it past all my units and traps and tribulations as soon as my connection had been snapped. They had used those with mental-manipulation magics to confuse and dominate my own monsters. Turning them against me, now that my voice could no longer reach them. What''s more, they had brought in hundreds of the farmers from above to help. Arming them with spare weapons and draping them in the carapaces of my dead units. In the enlarged chambers, these tactics had done well. But they only managed to make it to the new 24th floor. I had believed them to be a minor nuisance at this point. Nothing more. I was forced to re-assess my situation, when the lustful man and the gloomy man appeared on the surface. The children and the farmers had been forced to fight for days at a time to reach their current floor. The lustful man caught up to them in less than 8 minutes. Therein lay my dilemma. I wanted to go deeper. I wanted to conquer and subvert the very heart of the Dungeon for my own ends. I felt I could do it. I knew, I could do it. I also knew that the lustful man would never entertain such a notion. He would take me and the child back to the surface, whether I willed it or not. I knew he would do so, as soon as he stopped talking to the children. I did not think there was anything I could do to stop him. Even in my most optimistic simulations, the brute would annihilate the tens of thousands of units I had on this floor in less than 10 seconds. He was simply that strong. However, I believed I had another option. I could still keep descending, if the brute did not find me. And the brute could only track me and the other children, based on the bracelet. I had grown brains under the limb, but left the limb itself mostly intact so that I could keep track of the rising numbers. Now that choice presented a dilemma. I was sure the best solution would be to hack off the limb and move down a few floors. It would be quick and it would be easy and I could grow another limb without any effort on my part. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. The brute could not bring me back if he could not find me. Yet I hesitated. The lustful brute and all the other adults were fools, but they had shown themselves willing to nurture the child. I believed there was much left to be gained from them as a whole. Resources and education and answers to questions that plagued me even now. The other children might be angry with the child due to the continued assaults, but I was sure this wouldn''t change any of the adults'' opinions by itself. Not when I had avoided killing any of them and not when they believed they had things to gain from the child. That said, I feared the brute might become angry with the child, if I purposely misled him. Moreover, there were the other adults to consider. The child''s family. I did not care whether they lived or died. But the child did. The child would definitely suspect my presence upon waking, given the advancements and the new units. But if the child came to suspect my true feelings... I might not re-surface for months, or perhaps even years. If the child allowed me to re-surface at all. So, I hesitated and wracked my mind with the possibilities. I felt the tendrils of my mind drifting from my new body, to the walls and floors and ceilings of the Dungeon. To all the floors I had conquered and those I had yet to conquer. I felt my consciousness drifting upwards, to where the older children were ranting to the lustful man. I tasted the air around them from my perch inside the walls and was disappointed by how little magic there was to be had. How much weakness there was in those upper floors. Then, I turned my attention downwards. To the floors below me. To the seemingly impossible landscape of the 52nd floor, where gravity could turn against my units at a moment''s notice, and titanic lizards roamed the false sky and the oddly colored jungles along the bottom of the floor. I tasted just a whiff of the air through the nostrils of my units. And I hungered. I decided then that the risk was worth it and promptly cut off the blood flow to the forearm I had left mostly human all this time. Then I commanded the flesh to knead into itself and separate from the joints. The forearm and hand fell. Along with the bracelet. While I shifted my body back into a movable state and prepared to run.
I found the 52nd floor to be the largest one yet. With dimensions so large they eclipsed the farm up above. The ceiling was so high up that all the giant lizards could fly through the gravity storms with near impunity. Due to them being able to adjust their flight patterns before striking any other surface. With ample time to spare. I vaguely recalled hat the child had called such creatures dinosaurs. I allowed the thought to drift away, as I prepared myself for the onslaught. I created another creature, one with a thick, tree-like body. The bottom portions were a mixture of slug and octopus, as it could anchor itself to any surface through a combination of webbing and adhesive bacteria, while still having sizable tentacles to drag itself along whatever it was climbing. The upper portions ended in two separate sections. One, a massive womb, covered in different kinds of eyes and ears and noses. Each as big as a human head. The other, a gun. A very big, bio-gun. So large that it could fire Cannonlings without flinching. However, I realized that the dinosaurs above might be able to dodge larger projectiles with ease, so I gave the creature the ability to [Transform] itself and adjust its own organs. To switch between one big gun meant to fell giants and many, many smaller guns that could fire very quickly. I created a smaller, more aerodynamic variant of the Napalmlings to act as the smaller ammunition, with a larger variant to act as the main cannon''s ammunition. Then I named my new pet the Devastator and created seven more. Ordering them to fire upon any winged monster that got too close. I had no illusions that they would actually kill any of them of course. I had created them to be bait for the Subverters and Saboteurs. Those units that could actually do something with such a high level disparity. I then feared that such bait might not last enough to stall the monsters if too many were attracted at the same time, so I set about creating a different, more economical kind of bait. I made this new creature to be small. About three times the size of a human hand. I then made its body arrow-shaped. With seven pairs of insectile wings resembling those of dragonflies. Like dragonflies, they were to have large compound eyes and an unerring precision to their movements. Unlike dragonflies, these units would have rows upon rows of needle-like teeth meant for piercing flesh, bone and scale with ease, before injecting a neurotoxin I''d fashioned after the jellyfish that had almost killed me. Unlike dragonflies, these new units would hunt in the tens, or even hundreds of thousands. Unlike dragonflies, these new units would happily fly straight to their deaths, so long as they could buy my other units a few more minutes. I topped up the design by giving them a foul irritant to use as pheromones. Like those the orange spiders had used on the 12th. I made it so that each individual unit smelled so foul that none could ignore them and I went further by making their insides extremely adhesive once their bodies were compromised. A monster that bit into one of the new specimens would be biting down, not only on a load of paralytic poison, but also on a mushy concoction of organs that refused to separate from whatever they touched. A monster that swatted one aside would see the offending limb coated in the same concoction. Like an instant webbing effect, once the proper compounds came together. That, and I added a thin scratching membrane to the wings that amplified the sounds they made as they flew, so that one would come across as a dozen and a dozen would come across as a thousand. I called these new units, Swarmlings and moved on. Then I created larger, smarter creatures to lead the Swarmlings while tides of them crashed against monsters in the air. Just as an added precaution in order to keep my bait from being scattered in the cases where they flew too far away from me or other commanding creatures. I could not be too careful down here, with this much magic saturation acting as interference. I fashioned them as winged Saboteurs and called them Swarm Harpies. The final piece of the puzzle had to do with two additional problems. The first was that I could no longer simply grow units out of the ground anymore, as too many body parts were fashioned from living animal tissue. However, I would not expose myself to risk by continuing to birth thousands of Swarmlings while staying in one place. The second had to do with how wasteful the whole endeavor would be. Even assuming the layers of planning resulted in perfect ambushes and brand-new infected puppets, the cost in magic and bio-mass would be too great. The going would be too slow. By the time I descended two more floors, the Dungeon would be ready to grow again and the endeavor would have been for nothing. I fixed these issues by creating a creature that could [Spawn] other units independently of me, could [Assimilate] and [Drain] other monsters independently of me and could [Heal] other units independently of me. I called these new units, my Swarm Queens. Then I settled into the safety of the Dungeon Floor, and allowed my new formations to show their mettle. I was pleased when they exceeded my expectations. I saw that the Swarmlings were too light to be affected by the sudden changes in gravity while in mid-air. I also saw that a few hundred of them made enough noise to drown out all other sounds on the floor. A few thousand, as I soon realized, were a menace in and of itself. Far more so than their fangs. When a Swarmling bit into a dinosaur, they wouldn''t do much due to the thickness of the opposition''s armor and the density of their magic. The difference in levels was just too much. But the sensory stimuli still managed to get through. Causing far more pain than the prickles the bites left, as far as I could tell. I relished the discovery. I was made even happier when so many dinosaurs died after swallowing several units from the swarm at once. Their throats would be closed off by the sticky insides once the Swarmlings exploded and that was that. If the dinosaur could not breathe, the dinosaur could not fly. I felt joy at seeing so many stronger foes meet their demise. I felt twice as happy when the Subverters began picking off he smarter variants that had begun spitting fire or arcs of lighting from a distance. The monsters would then dive, coated in crackling energy and they would mince away at my units. Killing dozens with every passing second until none remained on the surface. But they would leave infected. I knew that was as good as any victory. Because those that were infected would be killing their fellows before long, until their bellies burst and they gave birth to even more units. This pattern continued for two more hours. Until the skies of the Dungeon floor were cleared of fliers that did not belong to me. Until I was choking on all the still-living bodies thrown into the newly grown pool. I smiled and ordered my Queens and Masterminds to advance. So that they may bring me dinner from the next floor. Chapter 51: I, The Clever. I was doing rather well, all things considered. I had managed to make it to the 55th with very little in the way of inconveniences or unexpected interruptions. This floor, like the previous two, was a wide-open space with many fliers of different distinctions making their way about the place. I thought that was fine, as my current assembly of units was more than a match for whatever monsters roamed about. I had outdone myself with the design of the Swarmlings, as well as their prodigious effectiveness when combined with my other units in coordinated assaults. Their successes meant that I was free to sit back and focus on digesting the half-dead, parasitized monsters being brought back to me by my Caretakers, Saboteurs and other, lesser units I had roaming about the battlefield. This was lovely for me, since I was able to keep growing in strength without putting myself at risk. All while progressing far more efficiently than any of the other children had in my position. The lustful brute had mentioned as much to the child, when they spoke some weeks ago. Normal children usually took anywhere from 3 to 5 months to fully grow from level 1 to 2 and then another 6 to 11 months to grow from level 2 to level 3. Assuming they had half-decent cores. Stage 3 or better. And assuming they trained hard and with relative frequency. That additional time between advancements accounted for the slower progression in stats they would see once they''d reached a higher level. As well as the more difficult monsters and more grueling training one would be expected to undertake upon a level-up. That is to say, a normal child would switch from fighting level 1 monsters, to fighting level 2 monsters for the most part. Once they had levelled-up. One would, of course, gain more stats more quickly when one fought above one''s current level, but this was not a common practice among the children. The adults found it too risky, for too little in the way of gains. A monster from the lower floors might give any child far more processed magic upon defeat. This was known. Depending on the creature in question and how many children were there to absorb it, any given fighter might hope to gobble up twice or even thrice as much magic in one go. However, it would still take time for children to absorb all of that magic and they needed to keep up similar feats in order to keep exercising and consolidating those gains. Meaning they did not usually level twice or thrice as fast. The increase in speed was marginal in most cases where single encounters were concerned. A determined child would need to be fighting monsters above their level all the time in order to actually shorten the length of time they spent in each level. Otherwise, any given outlier would be little more than a blip in their long-term development. The adults saw this and reasoned that a few more stat points and a shorter leveling window was simply not worth the risk of death that came from fighting above one''s level. I was not burdened by these concerns. Thanks in part to [Assimilate] and in part to how I had changed my body into a pool of acid. I was now devouring upwards of five-hundred nearly dead monsters at any given time. All of them two or more levels higher than me. Moreover, I was constantly fighting. Not by moving my actual body, but by birthing and commanding my forces. Meaning all those gains were constantly solidified as my units bled and died for me. I figured that I was now gulping down three times as much magic in any given minute as any of the other children would process in a single day. I also figured the only thing keeping me from experiencing even more explosive growth was the limits imposed on me by my core. In truth, I had imagined it to be invincible upon first awakening. After all, who else could claim to control themselves to this degree? Who else might claim to be the supreme lifeform, if not one that could partake of other lifeforms and transform itself as it wished? These past few hours had shown me my own folly. As of late, I felt as thought speeding up my progress, even by the most minute amounts, would lead my core to breaking apart. And that was with me putting aside all other monster cores via my Caretakers. I could not even begin to imagine what would happen if I brought another core into myself. No. Those experiments would have to wait for later. Right now, I had other problems to keep me busy. More specifically, the lustful brute. He had known I was still alive, after coming across the discarded bracelet. Perhaps due to the overabundance of my creatures on all the floors leading up to that point or perhaps due to my magic still resonating within that floor at the time he found the trinket. That was to be expected. What I had not expected was for the brute to sigh and demand my surrender out loud. I did not answer of course. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. The brute had ended up repeating himself three more times, before uttering an ultimatum. I could go with the brute right now, and receive no punishment due to my continued work on the farm, despite my aggression towards the children. Or, he would come down to where I was and drag me out by force. I had figured he was bluffing, as there was no way for him to find me. Not when I had taken care to place several more Acid Pools as decoys all along those lower floors. All of them filled with the monsters that had died too soon or who proved too numerous for me to digest on top of my already generous meal plan. I had even gone so far as to design Swarm Queens for each Pool. In order to run an experiment whereby each Queen attempted to absorb the magic from the monsters as I did, before passing the gains down to me once all the valuable outflow had been digested. That part hadn''t yielded results as of yet, but I had high expectations for what one of the Queens could do with that much overflow regardless. It would turn out fine even if the experiment went awry. I had expected the brute to start smashing Pool after Pool then. Busying himself with rummaging through each muscle and sinew of each creation in order to methodically figure out where I was. Instead, the brute lunged forwards through that floor and the next. All while slaughtering every moving unit he saw. All while ignoring the Acid Pools below him. All in less than ten minutes. All as if he could smell me out by the singular signature of my core. I started to panic then. Recalling how the brute was many, many levels higher than even the monsters I was hunting. I had been doing so well in my corner, that I had not even considered the possibility of him being able to find me out by the sheer prowess of his normal magic senses. I quickly set about recalling what I knew of the brute. Trying to come up with countermeasures on the spot based on any weaknesses that I was aware of. That was when I realized that I knew precious little of the lustful brute. I knew that he was lustful and that he liked shapely women. I knew that he was a brute and that he was cruel to his students without actually causing them any permanent physical impairment. I knew that he was loyal to the old man and that he followed orders. That he had met the old man after being recruited. After he had come back from some war or other. I decided to grasp on the first and last notions. I created another units and had some of the Queens I had stationed at the entrance to my current floor birth them in short order. They were human in appearance. Being completely indistinguishable from females the child had seen in his life. Then I smoothened out their features as they were being born through my connection to the Queens. Enlarging certain body parts while taking care to get the proportions just right. Then I had them stumble on and pretend to be vulnerable. The idea being for them to feign emotions like fear, so that the brute would be charmed into taking them back to the surface. I thought this idea was ingenious. Until it didn''t work. "Fucking Hell Cecil!" The brute bellowed upon making contact. "They''re amazing! Incredible! Magnificent! I know they''re not people! But.... DAMN!!! Holy shit! Since when could you do this!!?? Could you give them cores!?" I had no idea why that was his first question. I also had no intention of answering him. Figuring that they were failures since they did not have cores to complete the disguise. Those copies were still able to buy me a few minutes while he gawked, but that was as far as their use went. I determined to experiment some more with cores inside my units and moved on to my second plan. I recalled the brute had been recruited after coming from a war in Vietnam. I had also been inside the brute''s house and seen the picture frames of men the brute had called brothers. Those who had come back and those who hadn''t. The child had also seen some movies and documentaries on the subject. Moreover, the child had learned of a debilitating condition that had to do with some faulty human brain pattern. Something about re-living trauma. So, I re-created the brute''s dead friends a bit further in and forced the floor to grow rows upon rows of clustered trees in their vicinity. Then, I had the copies beg for the brute''s assistance and for their lives. Programing them to act as the brute remembered then based on his long-winded stories. Re-creating some injuries on them to sell the performance. Then, I had the trees grow mouths and start shouting in the few words of the foreign language the child had seen. Then, I had all my units open fire around the copies and within the new cover in order to complete the picture. The brute found them after dispatching the failed experiments near the entrance to the floor. I was not disappointed with the results. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!" The brute had exclaimed upon seeing a particular copy without legs. "MIKEEEE!!! MIKEEEEE!!! HOLD ON MIKE!!! I''LL GET YOU TO SAFETY!!!!" I felt a rush of giddiness. I then ordered the copy to grab onto the brute and begin weeping. "Russell. Russ. I don''t want to die. I... I want to see Gloria again. I want to see my kids Russ. Don''t let me die." The brute shouted even louder. His hands scrambling to cover up the wounds on the copy in some poor effort to stem the bleeding. In the end, he spent so long on that copy that I was able to make it to the next floor. Clear it of most monsters. Burrow myself into another hideout. And fill this following floor with even more trees and wailing copies. The plan being that they would lead the brute downwards, so that he destroyed the monsters in front of my army, while I sat back and collected the wounded, before brining them back to my own underground Pool. I thought it was the height of cleverness. Then, I toped it off by having one of my Swarm Harpies fire their Bio-Rifle at the copy the brute was holding. The copy''s chest exploded and the brute fell silent as the grave. All while I filled the floor with the sounds of gunshots and explosions. All while the trees were shouting in their Vietnam words and accents. I did not know what the words meant, but I could see the effect they had on the brute. Even now, he knelt there in front of the copy. Stunned speechless. His hands started quivering. Grasping the limp arms of the copy. The brute tried to speak, but his words died in his throat. Coming off like guttural half sobs, half howls. Snot and tears ran freely down his face and they would fly off every time the brute shook and hugged the limp body of the copy. All while the brute kept whispering the name. I had enough time to send more units downwards and half conquer the next floor, before the brute got a hold of himself. "CEEEEEEEECIIIIIIIIILLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!" He bellowed. His cries shattering the bodies of the other copies and drowning out the tree''s voices all throughout the floor. Indeed, the shockwave was so potent that some of the nearby trees were ripped off the ground or had their leaves sheared off. An impressive display of raw power if I''d ever seen one. The brute then made several threats while hugging the body of the copy. All while slowly getting to his feet. I had all the trees grow new, larger mouths and had then redouble their cries. With some of them mimicking the cries of that one copy pleading for help and sounding as though they were being harmed. The brute lost whatever reasoning he''d had left and rushed downwards like a tsunami of violence. Ripping apart everything in his path. It was a good thing he did so as well, because I could feel the Dungeon getting closer and closer to another growth spurt. If I found myself surrounded by even stronger monsters, my Saboteurs might not be enough. But that would change. If I could lure the brute into clearing the newly empowered floors for me. So, I lay in wait and relished the brute''s newfound rage as it fueled his mad rampage. My stomach fluttering with glee as I saw that he wasn''t bothering to finish off the monsters on the floors below me. Merely swatting them aside like flies in his quest to get at me. I got ready to move once he had placed three floors between us, while my newly grown units brought me my new meals. All while I dreamt of meals yet to come. Chapter 52: I, The Sneaky. The Dungeon grew once more. I thought that was fine. After all, I had made such excellent progress that I was now on the 77th floor, with the brute being on the 81st. Indeed, my greatest challenge went from digesting all those strong monsters the brute had left for me in a timely manner, to coming up with enough magic between me and my Masterminds to continually dominate each floor the brute cleared. And it was a challenge, given how quickly the brute was clearing them. It was to the point where I had to rush without fully digesting my meals, because new monsters would start to spawn in if I didn''t dominate the floor fast enough, and these new monsters were far, far beyond what my units could handle. Even with all the tricks I could come up with. That said, it wasn''t all good news. The brute was going wild with no end in sight, but he was all that kept my conquest going at this level of difficulty. If, for some reason, he calmed down long enough to consider his current situation, he might simply turn around. Even if he didn''t immediately find me, which I doubted was possible, he would still stop killing monsters ahead of me. And so my current bout of conquest would come to an end. He would probably not be happy with my usage of his trauma either. As such, I focused my efforts on ways to keep him going as far as he would go, before the Dungeon grew again. I molded my Subverters and Saboteurs so that they could [Transform] into humans and I did my best to have them crawl along the new floors while the brute continued his rampage. Every time the brute started calming down, I had one of them turn back into one of the brute''s departed friends, while the rest made their way to a lower floor in order to start the process all over again. I knew these tactics would only be effective so long as the brute was enraged and not paying attention to his surroundings, but they kept working nonetheless. I was fine with that. It meant I would have more time to devour the monsters too crippled for the brute''s attention. I ate and ate and ate until I was stuffed and until my core quivered inside my fleshy form. The concentration of magic telling me, in no uncertain words, that it was close to cracking or exploding with the amount of magic I was constantly feeding it. Thankfully, the Masterminds and the decoy Queens I left in decoy Pools took care of storing much of the overflow so that it didn''t go to waste. "CEEEEEECIIIIIIILLLLL!!!!!" The brute wailed from below. "I''LL FUCKING KILL YOU CEEEEECIIIILLL!!!" The proclamation had been so loud that the sound had shattered stones throughout all the floors between me and him. I thought that was fine. It meant he was still ready to keep advancing for me. Sure, the fact that the brute had gotten this upset about my tactics was a bit problematic when I considered the future, but I was sure that he would calm down eventually. He and all the other adults had nothing to gain from my death, while also having plenty to lose. I was certain that, if it came down to it, the old man would intervene. Therefore, instead of worrying about him, I shifted my focus on something far more important. Such as the developing situation on the surface. It would seem the old man and the gloomy man had shown up with the brute''s son. They had gathered another 2, 000 or so humans to work on the expanding farms and had sent the humans that had been previously working down to fight on the upper floors in waves so as to finally capitalize on their hard work with decent cores. All in all, this would mean that another 1, 800 or so people would be fighting against my units, in addition to the hundreds already engaged in battle alongside the children. The gloomy man thought this was tantamount to sending thousands into a meatgrinder and reminded the old man that no such thing would ever be acceptable in the Dunstonberry Dungeon. The old man waved his concerns away and kept assuring the gloomy man that I wouldn''t kill any of the trainees, so they might as well throw them neck deep into the Dungeon to obtain the best results they could. I was of the opinion that he presumed too much and took my benevolence for weakness. I was of the opinion that many of those wastrels would make excellent seedbeds for future experiments. Particularly those relating to natural core formation. I was also aware that killing anyone would be a black mark against me. One even more problematic than my usage of the brute''s trauma. I could see the old man laughing off the brute''s incident, so long as the child showed how much I had advanced us and so long as the farm kept expanding and growing more crops faster than ever before. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. I could not see the old man laughing off even a single death however. That did not seem like a wise line to cross. With that in mind, I began unleashing legions upon legions of my lesser units in the upper floors of the Dungeon. Making drones and common Sunflower Brutes by the tens of thousands and having them charge the new delvers from all sides. Pushing them constantly without ever inflicting lethal wounds and allowing parties to escape when I deemed it necessary. All while I kept a close eye on the ways their internal magics fluctuated without any of them having a core. No sense in missing out on observational data when it was so freely available. I also spent more and more attention to sending waves upon waves of Riflelings, Sniperlings, Body-snatchers, Shotgunlings and Cannonlings into the fray of my current floor, but only to bring back whatever monsters the brute left alive. I would see this play out, again and again. My skirmishing parties coming back with with crippled monsters. For me. For the Pool I had become. Thousands were now being dissolved every passing minute, in several different Pools. Their cores being put to the side so that neither I, nor my Decoy Queens consumed them. I had been watching the pile grow with a morbid fascination as of late. I recalled what effect they had had on the first units the child had created. The bears and the gorillas made up of nothing but vines and moss. They had been far, far stronger than they''d had any right to be. All thanks to being infused with crushed-up cores. Yet the old man had warned the child about the side-effects. It was a temporary booster, with far too many consequences attached for it to be worth it. Those units had been made to die from the outset and their last moments were filled with unimaginable power for that very reason. I knew that eating the cores would be stupid. I had my instincts to thank for that. But I could not help but think about what the monsters down here could do. I had seen them teleport short and long distances. I had seen them breathe clouds of poison or acid or fire or freezing mist or arcs of lighting. I had seen them split themselves into identical clones. Sometimes into groups of three or four upon the death of the main body. Sometimes on account of a sudden surge of power driven from desperation. The identical clone sacrificing itself so that the main body could attempt to flee. Those were always the most interesting, because I could not fathom how the magic worked, since both the clone and the original would remain infected, almost as if they had cloned the worm and the growing units the worm had spawned within their bodies while the magic took hold. Not only that, but I was starting to notice more complex and esoteric abilities from the newer monsters. Some could freeze time in a localized area. Some could alter the way kinetic force worked so that the Burrowing Roaches and worms were sent right back to my war parties. Some could cause all the other monsters to explode around them at the time of their death, a fate shared by my own units. Some could pretend to be my own units. To the point where they could mimic the skills the Queens had been endowed with. Spawning smaller armies of their own and sending them my way. I saw a particularly strange creature that looked like a solid, plastic cube with one eye on each of its sides. When one of my Riflelings shot at it, the cube creature opened its eyes and shrieked with mouths it did not have. The space around it was de-pressurized and I lost two hundred units in one fell stroke. And yet, none of it seemed to register on the brute, who kept slaughtering the monsters without a second thought. The more I saw of the phenomena, the greedier I felt. Until I found myself formulating plans to make use of the mountain of unused cores. My first test subject was a still-living monster. A gnome of some kind who had been saying something or other about the child''s parents after touching my own mind through my units. I wasn''t paying attention. I inserted a second core into its body. One that gave off about the same amount of magic as a 5th Stage core in the case of humans. I had taken it from a boss monster on the 73rd and I was eager to see how the smaller, comparatively dumber and weaker creature would fare with the influx of power. As soon as I closed and [Healed] the wound, the gnome had started screaming. I did not think this was unusual, given the other things I had done to it until that point, so I continued watching from behind the eyes of my Swarm Queens. First, the skin around the healed incision grew red and warty. Almost as if the gnome was having an allergic reaction. Then, its eyes bulged out at the same time as its tongue. The gnome looking as if it was trying to cool itself in the same manner as a dog would. I watched the gnome make a raspy, gargling sound and peered in a bit closer to judge other features through the bodies of my Queens. I saw that the gnome''s throat had closed shut. I heard the beating of its heart beating like a drum against its ribcage. I smelled that the gnome''s bowels had emptied themselves at once. For a second, I could have sworn that I could see steam coming out of the gnome''s ears. Its eyes had started to turn from their usual red to a glowing green. Traces of power sputtering out like diseased embers from the sockets. An apt comparison, as its eyes soon melted. Then the thing''s body melted. Flesh sloughing off like hot candlewax. The gnome did not stop screaming the whole time. Yet it also refused to die. Not for another hour of direct observation. I noted the relative resilience and prepared to compare those results with other, more impressive lifeforms. Perhaps their own stats had something to do with how long they survived? What would be better? Vitality? Endurance? Fortitude? Or perhaps Precision to better control the flow of foreign magic? So many possibilities. I determined to keep working. My next experiment was performed on a larger creature. A mountainous goat centaur reminiscent of the ones I had fought and eaten on the 47th floor. It too struggled violently. Looking more and more ill by the second. I had my Queens hold the writhing, mostly-dead monster down in its death throes and through them I could sense that the monster''s very flesh was rotting and giving way. The monster having aged 10 years in the past 10 minutes. I believed it was an obstacle that could be overcome. I did not think it would be easy, but I had plenty of time. I would first make it so that my units could handle at least one monster core at a time. Then, I would make it so that they could handle three or four cores at a time. It didn''t matter if I was met with constant failures. A single success would justify thousands of units spent. Not to mention the fact that such experiments would no doubt stir the greed of the old man on the surface. I was still watching the farmers, those new hordes that were smashing themselves bloody against my lesser units and those hundreds that were fighting alongside the children. None of them had obtained cores as of that moment, but I could feel that those on the lower floors had reached an average of 3.5 on their stats. Their prospects seemed very bright to my eyes. Now, if I could somehow figure out how to secure late-stage cores for them, as well as my own units. Well... The old man might very well see this as a net positive, regardless of what the brute thought. I might even be able to negotiate the release of some humans into my care. After all, what was a few hundred lives, compared to the old man''s ultimate goal? With such ambitions in mind, I focused my mind on the experiments once more. Toying with the idea of taking a few farmers to the side as subjects, while I left my latest Pool so that I could descend at the same time as the brute. It would not do to lose sight of my ultimate prize, after all. Chapter 53: I, The Scientist. I managed to descend another 5 floors in just a day. Moving all the way down to the 83rd. Devouring all kinds of monsters along the way. While the brute did all the hard work for me. Each break would see me dissolving and absorbing thousands of monsters for a few hours at a time. Each break got longer and longer as the brute began to struggle against monsters that were now approaching his own level. Good thing he was so stupid, or else he might have realized that I was playing him for a fool. I was a bit taken aback that he''d spent the whole time weeping and wailing and shivering with barely-contained rage, but I figured he would get over it eventually. In the meantime, I would make good use of his antics. I was sure the strength of the monsters I was [Assimilating] and the rate I was devouring them at was speeding up my own growth. But I couldn''t tell how much I was improving without a bracelet. What I could tell was that my experiments were gaining traction. My first attempt was based on the Saboteurs. I had figured it would be a good enough start, given that I had created them to be disposable. I straightened out the unit''s spine and spent additional resources giving it extra limbs and extra brains scattered throughout its body. I improved its nerves and its hand-eye coordination, while also giving it additional redundant organs for its circulatory and respiratory systems, so that it could withstand a certain degree of catastrophic organ failure before expiring. I even went so far as to remove its attached Bio-weapons and to devote even more resources so that the specimen could use my skills as the Swarm Queens did. I then finished the experiment by adding a single monster core to the unit''s chest. It died within 13 minutes. None of my healing magics or its own were able to save it. At best, they merely forestalled the unit''s final death for a few minutes more. Worse, it had been unable to call upon any of the additional magics found within the core. I created another, similar specimen. Only smaller, with a less developed nervous system and an even more advanced cardiovascular system, with twice as many redundancies. It died within 6 minutes. I found that interesting and began to wonder if total mass was a key factor, or if a better nervous system helped to mitigate the issue. I created a third specimen so that it was twice as large as a Cannonling. With even more redundancies than the second. I created a fourth specimen so that it was the size of the first experiment, but with a disproportionally large skull and central brain. I created a fifth specimen so that it was the size of the third, but with the same disproportionally sized skull and brain as the fourth. One that, due to its size, was almost three times larger and thicker than that of the fourth specimen. The third specimen died within 7 minutes. Unable to use any magic from the core. The fourth specimen died within 15 minutes. Also unable to use any magic from the core. The fifth specimen lasted a record-breaking 44 minutes. And what''s more, it was able to use the magic from the core. This last one could create illusory copies of itself through magic. Whenever a monster struck one of the copies, the illusion would dissipate, but it would leave the attacker dazed and clumsy for roughly half a second. Given how powerful these monsters were, that was an outstanding success. I named this new variant, the Spymaster and moved on to new patterns. I created a similarly effective variant of the Swarm Queen, called a High Queen. One that was able to use its [Healing] from a distance and that was able to create localized magic shields over my units. I created a new kind of Harpy, called a High Harpy, that was able to manipulate air around it in order to create invisible blades of shearing wind. I created a new kind of Cannonling, called a Bomberling, for its uncanny ability to make its own projectiles explode with the force of missiles after striking their targets, even when the Burrower Roaches had bitten their way into a host''s body. Yet none of these lasted very long at all. They were even more expendable than my regular units by an order of magnitude. Which wouldn''t have been a problem, if they also didn''t require five times as many resources and my direct attention to be born. If the brute hadn''t been doing most of the work ahead of my main force, I would have had to stop my descent altogether. What''s more, I found that the kind of core I used for each individual affected the power they gained after the fact. Something that I felt should have been obvious from the get go, but that only added an extra layer of frustration. After all, a High Queen or High Harpy might have been useful when they could serve as mobile defenses or attack mages but their usefulness evaporated when they instead gained the ability to immolate themselves or phase through Dungeon walls and not much else. I kept trying new patterns with different cores to try and see if I could chance upon a good combination that would justify the expenditure. None came up. That was, none until I began experimenting with Masterminds. That was when I realized my folly. In humans, the cores formed naturally, in the chest area. I had been treating my units the same way, figuring it wouldn''t make sense for them to be elsewhere. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Only, the brain tissue was clearly more conductive to magic and it also served to stabilize the foreign energy. Therefore, a being that was mostly made up of brain-tissue would have a much easier time handling the strain. My new units could survive as long as three hours at a time with a single core and they were able to reliably use their intended magic, with more flexibility than the other variants I''d created. Better yet, having them connected to the nearby experimental units created a stabilizing effect, where they would also be able to handle the magic more easily. More or less splitting the strain through the connection created by [Over-Mind]. That, was when I began getting greedy again. I placed two cores inside the new unit, instead of one. It died only slightly faster. And it was able to use wo different kinds of magic. Strangely enough, this seemed to siphon even more of the strain from the nearby variants. Allowing them to use their magics more easily and to live even longer. I placed three cores after that. Followed by another. And another. And another. Tweaking little details about the new variant here and there, such as the overall size of the being and the complexity and energy allocation of its main brain. In the end, I more or less perfected a working prototype. One I called the Swarm Sage. If the old Masterminds had been the size of small hot-air balloons, these new units were the size of blimps. With most of their bulk being composed of brain-tissue. Each one was a risky investment, as they were both fragile and short-lived while also being prohibitively expensive. Yet, the devastation they caused was beyond my wildest hopes and dreams. A single one could create blasts of magic powerful enough to disintegrate hundreds of lower floor monsters outright. Each blast containing several dozen combined spells in a single attack, with each core acting as a booster for the others. It did come at a cost. Each unit could only handle 2 or 3 blasts before expiring and each blast consumed all the cores I placed within each unit, so that they would have to be replenished between battles. What''s more, they could only live up to half an hour when fully loaded with cores. However, all of that was worth it, given how fast they could clear the leftovers the brute left behind. Given the disparity between our levels, I had begun to encounter clusters that could savage my forces, even on the brink of death. That was no longer an issue. So, I feasted and grew larger and fatter. Now focusing my attention on the Decoy Queens I had left attending the Decoy pools all along the floors I had already conquered. They had been busy devouring what monsters they could get their claws on, before my magic fully settled a floor and it began spawning my units instead of the usual monsters. I could tell that their bodies were on the brink of bursting with all the magic they had absorbed. I could tell that it wouldn''t amount to much, as they all worked off my own magic. Without having a core of their own to feed, the magic they drew in would stagnate and disrupt their usual functioning. Ordering the Queens to grow the pools and themselves had slowed the issue, but only up to a point. I would have to absorb that magic myself or else waste all that progress. Yet I was already at the limits of how much magic I could absorb as it was. Where a normal child might take months and months to reach level 3, I felt as though I would reach the limits of level 2 in one or two weeks. Even then, I was afraid that keeping up this pace would lead to more trouble, rather than more benefits. Hardly a minute passed by without my core shivering violently now. The gem-like organ almost vibrating with exertion within the pouch of meat it was contained in. Clearly, I wasn''t taking as many precautions as I should have. I needed to slow down the rate of consumption, but I also didn''t want to waste this sumptuous meal the brute had so kindly left for me. That was when I thought back to the farmers and the children up on the surface. While none of the former had formed cores since yesterday, both the ones on the upper floors and the lower floors had made amazing progress. As for the latter, quite a few had levelled-up. The child''s friends being among those who had improved themselves. Moreover, some of the older children had made it to level 4. With the older leader girl breaking into level 5. The sudden rush of power had allowed them to crush all resistance until the new 29th floor. A laudable achievement. Granted, I was no longer going all-out as they would never catch up to me, but I was still impressed. And inspired. I considered [Spawning] a new creature to slow them down. One that carried tiny bits of broken monster cores within themselves and injected them into the children as they passed. I wondered how that addition would fare for them. I got as far as designing an insect capable of jumping vast distances and camouflaging itself. A near-weightless bedbug that would latch onto skin and bite deep into the flesh, with an anesthetic solution for saliva so the children would not realize they were bitten until later. Then I hesitated. Considering the old man once more. I didn''t feel confident enough to experiment on live humans without killing them yet. I could not say for certain those experiments wouldn''t result in death or crippling injury. That closed off many avenues of inquiry regarding the core-formation process. But there were alternatives. I had created human copies before, yes. But what if I could create a true human from scratch? Surely the old man wouldn''t begrudge me making such experiments, right? I decided that was the case and moved on to trials. Stopping briefly to release the core-less bedbugs on the children. They would not be part of any experiment. They would only be annoying. Very, very annoying and irritating. I asked myself why I had done it moments after. I figured I was feeling petty, after they turned my units against me. That and I figured the other children would think twice before harassing the child or myself, if they were made aware of the consequences. I wanted them to know what I was capable of. I wanted them to know it could be worse. Now feeling more satisfied, I created a new kind of unit for my next experiment. One that would be as close to a regular human as I could possibly get with the knowledge I had. Keeping a bit of magic in order to kickstart the process of life. The first one was born from a womb I grew on my real body. I allowed her to crawl away from me. I allowed her to cough as her lungs drew in her first breath. I did not allow her to live, after I realized she had the same core as me. I would, of course, be reproducing in the future. I was the perfect lifeform after all. The universe and all its wonders belonged to me. To my seed and my ilk. But I was not strong enough to cement my supremacy as of yet. And I would not suffer competitors. The old man might get dangerous ideas, if he believed me or the child to be anything but unique. She did babble some nonsense about help and please and mercy towards the end, but that was inconsequential. I re-absorbed her and vowed to do things differently to see if I could draw out different kinds of cores. To start, I focused on all the dried human blood my units had spilled onto the higher floors. Some samples were merely droplets. Others, small congealed puddles that had since turned black. None of the wounds had been lethal, but the evidence of wounds was still there. I drank I what I could through newly-born drones and scrambled the DNA sequences. I figured this would allow me to create new blends of humans, from a variety of samples belonging to both the children and the farmers. I then determined to have my Queens birth the new experiments instead of me, in order to ensure a greater degree of separation. I even went so far as to remove as much of my own magic from the new creations as possible, so that they became as close to the image of a regular baseline human as possible. The first three proved the folly of that idea. Without any of my magic to power the life within them, they died as soon as they were past the Queens'' wombs. Leaving nothing but corpses to show for my efforts. I then shifted my own focus to add a bit more magic right at the moment of birth. Not a lot. But merely enough to kickstart their own lives. Two more died soon after being born, but a third lived on. She was a bald female, who resembled one of the copies I had sent to distract the brute in the past. She was born stout of body and stout of mind. Her panic and terror coming across very clearly through our connection. A connection I soon severed, so as to have a genuine sample to work with. Then, I left her alone to cry out and beg for help. Knowing that none was coming. I left her like that for two hours. The Queen that was her mother watching from close by, in addition to the now hundreds of thousands of units surrounding her. Then, when I was certain that no magic was flowing from me, I ordered her mother to re-capture her and to connect all the digested magic into this new vessel. Based on the old man''s information, this might have led to a sub-par core, as I was pumping this vessel full of high-grade magic that even I could not easily digest. I didn''t care overmuch, since she was but an experiment. Even a sub-par core would have been a massive step in the right direction. So, I tinkered and waited and grew new humans from other Queens in other floors. All while ripping myself off the ground and following the brute down to deeper parts of the Dungeon. Chapter 54: I, The Genius. I could not have been prouder of myself. Not only did I manage to perfect a Saboteur variant that could teleport ahead of the brute in order to keep him going more effectively, but I also managed to do it while making significant progress with my Queen-grown humans. Granted, the Saboteurs tended to die quite quickly and most of the humans I had grown couldn''t survive on their own for more than an hour, but it was progress nonetheless. I had been so content that I decided to give my first successful sample a proper name. Instead of simply referring to her by the moniker of Sample 1, the bald woman would now be known as Progress. As my form of respect for how long she had endured and how far she had come. In just one day, she had managed to not only survive, but thrive. Even as her Queen mother molded her brain into shapes and notions that would suit me, while blocking the worst of the pain. Even as her arms and legs still twitched from the unending magical agony that so much concentrated magic brought. Even as her chest contracted and collapsed with the constant formation of half-cores or cores that were too large of cores that formed with jagged spikes and shattered edges. At first, I had thought the experiment to be a failure and prepared to move on. But then, I had noticed how the new cores took a few seconds to form proper connections throughout her body and had decided to gamble with her life. After all, I had created her, so it was my right to do so. I ordered her Queen mother to use [Transform] on her. Surgically removing the failed core without actually healing her and using her connected tissues to keep the Sample alive. It had worked. Over and over and over again. While the Sample continued to form new cores with excess of pre-digested magic being pumped in. Over and over and over again. In the end, she had managed to form a proper, late-stage core on her 17th attempt. One possessing magic wholly different from mine. I was a bit miffed that I could not control or predict was kind of core she got, but I was thrilled regardless. I reached out as soon as the process was done. Using [Overmind] for the first time since I''d severed our connection. Filling in the gaps of her memory, wherever her Queen mother had faltered. ''Who are you?'' I demanded. ''I am Progress.'' She answered blankly. ''What is your purpose, Progress?'' ''To serve you. My Master.'' She replied. With an inner voice devoid of emotion. One that knew only obedience. One that was the same as her mother. ''Excellent.'' I cooed. My own flesh quivering with excitement. ''Cling to your mother again, Progress.'' I ordered. ''Feed your core with the meals she has stored. Until your core feels as though it is about to burst. Then move on to another one of my Queens in another Pool. My other units will protect and guide you along the way.'' Progress followed my instructions and re-merged with her mother. I then set about creating other Samples. In order to streamline the process. Sample 2 was a male, resembling the child. He lived for a few minutes, before expiring on the Dungeon floor. Sample 3 was a male, resembling the brute. He lived for a few minutes, before expiring on the Dungeon floor. Sample 4 was a male, resembling the bait I kept laying down for the brute. The man called Wike or whatever. I hadn''t been paying attention to insignificant details. He lived long enough to meld with his Queen mother, but faltered when forming a proper core. Taking far longer than Progress had. He lived through 29 attempts, until his body gave out. Sample 5 was a male, with the same mold as Sample 4. I re-created him in order to experiment with the entire process of core formation and failure. Figuring that I could re-arrange the Queen''s connecting tendrils around his body in order to see what improved or what went awry. He too lived long enough to meld back with the Queen in charge. He too lived through many attempts before expiring. While Sample 5 had outlived Sample 4 by a hour or so, his processes had still been a parade of failures. Sample 6 was another copy of Sample 4, which I made with the intention of a different kind of experiment. One where I gave the Sample more time to roam about by himself, and where I gave the Queen mother more autonomy in shaping his tutelage. I left it to work in the background and moved on. Sample 7 was a female, resembling another one of the copies I had left in front of the brute to slow him down. Like Progress and all the other samples, she was bald and well-built by the standards of humans. Yet there was also an inherent weakness to her. An, anemia of sorts. The magic had been cut off too early and her bones had not formed as well as I would have liked. Same with organs like her kidneys and liver. She managed to survive by herself without much issue, which was unexpected. Yet she also displayed a much higher degree of weakness than any of the other surviving Samples. Her mind devolving into pleas and her body freezing up like that of a lamb faced with a predator. She showed weakness. Much like Progress had before her. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. She, like the others, intrinsically knew me and her relation to me. She knew she was a unit. She knew I had designed her. She knew the Queen had birthed her. She knew what was in store. Unlike the others, she did not readily accept such a fate. Odd, since I was sure I had fixed those problems after tinkering with Progress. She should not have followed in her footsteps. Perhaps she did so because she was aware of the weakness of her body and of her chances? But that was foolish. I had created her. And so, her life and death were mine to decide. If her purpose was to serve, then she would serve. If her purpose was to die, then she would die. And she would die content, because I was her creator and I had willed it. And still, she wept and begged and tried to crawl away on unsteady hands and knees. Her pathetic form failing to even stand as a huma would due to a mixture of deformity and overwhelming terror. "Please." She whispered to no one. Her azure eyes obviously tracking the hundreds of units that were stationed all around her. From Venomlings to Sniperlings. From Riflelings to Shotgunlings. From Cannonlings to Siege Slimes. All coated in their new insectile carapace. Their mouths hanging open and drooling. Their many kinds of eyes staring right back without blinking. I caught hold of one of those units. A Subverter. I spoke through it, since I did not want to taint the experiment by forming a connection through [Overmind]. "Why do you run?" I asked, through a voice that was sharp as a hundred daggers. Pushed through dozens upon dozens of dagger-like fangs. "I''m scared." She babbled. Tears still running down her face. "I don''t want to die. I want to go back to aunt Cheryl and uncle Uter. I want to go back to Eva. I want my parents back. I want to live. I don''t want to die yet. Please. Please. Please." Snot was now running down her face. Marring the pleasant features. "You are a unit." I reminded her. "You were created to serve. It is your purpose." She kept weeping incoherently. Saying ''Please'' over and over again, while her legs lost what little power they''d had. It made for a pathetic display. This... Individualism... It troubled me. More so than with Progress. There was a resistance now, that Progress did not match. It was hard to describe. Progress accepted her fate, to a degree. But this one continued to defy me. That was inconceivable. After all, this unit was mine and so had been born with many of my own memories, as well as those belonging to the child. What would happen if she were to betray me? Progress would die before giving anything away, of that I was sure. But this one? No. I could not have it. I would not suffer traitors. Not among my brood. So, I ordered my Queen to re-absorb her brain, while connecting with the rest of her as normal. I would have her mother fix her, while feeding the processed magic to her body. It was a good thing I was merciful and didn''t order her immediate disposal, because the process was one of my more promising successes. Where Progress had obtained a core that I rated around the 6th Stage, Sample 7 had achieved a core as powerful as mine. A full 7th Stage core. I had no idea what it would do, but I couldn''t wait to find out. She had also been remade rather well. In the brain department. She knew who she was and who I was now. As she hadn''t before. She knew that her purpose was to serve. I ordered my Queen to [Heal] and [Transform] the rest of her deficiencies and named her Mercy. Because it had been my mercy that had allowed her to live. Sample 8 was also a female, as I had begun to notice a pattern whereby they tended to survive more often than the males. She was stout and strong and healthy in all manners, just as Progress had been. Like Progress, she too knew where things stood. Unlike Progress, she knew as soon as she was out of the Queen''s womb. Things went well and I confirmed that connections to the base of the spine, as well as to the stomach lining and lungs worked best when pumping magic. She managed to form an acceptable core after just 3 tries. She did fall a bit short of expectations though, obtaining a measly 4th-Stage core. Not bad, per se. But not what I was hoping for. I named her Disappointment and moved on. Sample 9 was female, following Sample 8''s example. She too survived on her own and she too showed all the signs of promise. She too managed to form a core. Not on the first try, but it was close enough that it made no matter. However, she too failed to develop anything past the 4th-Stage. In fact, she and Disappointment had the exact same core. One that was a poor parody of mine. With some parts being the same, and some being far weaker than I was used to. In fact, I thought I could recognize it, based on how the old man had described its effects and powers. [Chimera]. The core was called [Chimera]. I allowed Sample 9 to live and named her Disappointment 2. Sample 10 was also female, but with her, I tried something different. I recalled how Mercy had acquired some individuality after being misshapen at birth. I recalled how she had thus far been my most spectacular success. Achieving the same kind of core that I had. For this experiment, I had the Queen in charge of her creation cut off the nutrient supply to her body early. So that her mind was left intact, but her bones and muscles were less developed than they should have been. It had the desired effect. The lack of nutrients resulted in the same lack of loyalty. The same weakness of character. I had the Queen wait a few minutes. Just to make sure she would survive. I found it prudent, as she was trembling and coughing so much in between sobs that I feared her heart might give out. Surprisingly, she did survive, despite all the factors working against her. Despite some of the male subjects being more capable of sustaining life. I found that odd, but I did not question it further at that moment. Instead, I had the Queen surge forward and drag her back. This time, I opted to introduce another variable. While her brain was being remodeled, I had the Queen attach small, near invisible needles to as many tissues as possible. Only placing an emphasis on the lower spine, lungs and intestines, rather than focusing only on those areas. This way, I hoped to saturate more parts with the processed magic at once, in hopes of reducing the chance of a failed core. She survived through 38 attempts and just as I was about to order the Queen to recycle her, the process succeeded. Another 7th Stage Core. I was beyond giddy. So much so that I named her Patience. For it was my patience that allowed her to live, despite my doubts. I was just about to create a new experiment, when I noticed something wonderful. The brute had run out of floors. He had reached the Dungeon Core. At last. I wasted no time summoning as much magic as I could. Channeling all of it to take over the preceding floor and having legions upon legions of my units waiting at the ready. The brute would soon realize he had been played and he would turn back the way he came. As soon as he did, my units would swarm the core and take it for myself. I was so happy and so focused, that I missed the exact words the brute whispered into his bracelet. Then the brute smashed a crystal he''d been hiding in his pocket. Sending out a foreign pulse of energy throughout the Dungeon. It felt it pass through several floors. Over me and through many floors after me. I shut off my own magic on instinct. Avoiding what I was sure was a detection spell of some sort. However, my creations were not as quick. Progress, Mercy, Patience, the two Disappointments and even Sample 6 were all lit up. I hadn''t even noticed when he''d grown a core of his own but he had been lit up all the same. The gloomy man appeared next to each one. Taking them away before I could react. Then he took the brute away before I could react. I thought that was fine. The brute could help himself to them, if that was what it took to cool his fury. They were ultimately expendable, and I could always make more if needed. For my part, I rushed to the Dungeon core. Past entire floors filled with corpses. Never stopping until I passed that final threshold and entered the heart of the structure. It... Was more beautiful than anything else I had ever seen in my life. I reached out with my own magic and felt the entire Dungeon reacting to my intrusion. To my demands. No longer would I be kicked out. No longer would my conquests be temporary. This entire Dungeon was as an organ. A second brain and heart all in one. I felt it beat and my own mind beat with it. Causing a resonance that intoxicated me with how good it felt. I could feel every plant, every creature, every droplet of water and air molecule in all the Dungeon and I could even feel how much growing it had left to do. But even those new floors would be under my command. From the very get go. I could not wait. I wrapped myself around the Dungeon Core and felt its warmth with my own body. Then, out of nowhere, I felt a sudden rush of displaced air. And I turned my head to see the brute and the gloomy man. The latter looking disgusted. The former staring into my soul with bloodshot eyes. '' Then, I saw him grin and heard him speak. "Gotcha bitch." Chapter 55: Fallout. The dream was long and sweet and wonderful. In it, I could fly and float and dance in the sky among a thousand, thousand stars. Free from all the weight of expectations and the burden of the future. I was happy. Fulfilled. Wrapped tightly in a layer of soft, pillowy warmth that left me paralyzed with comfort. It wasn''t that I couldn''t get up. It was that I didn''t want to get up. I felt as if I were cradled in a dozen clean blankets, while the air beyond them was cool. As if I''d gone to bed with a full belly and heavy, weary eyes. Oh, I was so comfortable. So satisfied. That the noise felt like a fire alarm, despite it being little more than a distant annoyance. Worse, it refused to go away. Coming back again and again as I tried to turn in my cradle. As I tried to tune it out. "Go away." I finally snapped. "Let me go back to sleep." Then the noise stopped and I was happy once more. Until the kick came that is. I was jolted awake. Wheezing from the pain and coughing. My eyes searching for the cause and landing on a large bedraggled man. He looked like someone who''d been swimming in mud and dirt for weeks on end. His face covered with soot and stained black with scorch marks. Half the hair on his head was missing. Singed right off from the look of it. Small fires still burning on the few hairs he had left. His eyes were hard. Bloodshot. Filled with pent-up fury and exhaustion. He looked so serious... so angry. "Coach, Homer?" "Shut the fuck up!!" He bellowed. Kicking me in the ribs and breaking all of them. I gasped, but could not get my bearings before another kick sent me back into the wall. Then I felt hands grabbing me, before one of them slapped me across the face. Taking out multiple teeth. "Ya think Nam was joke do you!? You think it was funny!?" He slapped me again and I felt the rest of my teeth flying. Along with my lower jaw. Pain flared up. Raw and red. I tried to scream, but my throat was being held shut. "And what''s with the girls Cecil!? You sick fuck! What''s with you mutilating my buddy you piece of shit!?" He slammed me against the wall and punched me in the gut. I felt my magic spring into action as soon as the blow landed. My spirit rushing to fix my crippled spine. He hit me again. And again. And again and again and again. Everything hurt. Absolutely everything. I couldn''t defend myself. The difference in power was so great that I couldn''t even breathe. Until the blows stopped abruptly and I heard Mr. Robertson''s voice somewhere in the distance. I coughed and crumpled to the ground. Feeling bloody phlegm leaking out of my mouth as I wheezed through my broken mouth. And I stayed like that for what felt like an eternity. Suffering. Healing. Wondering just what the fuck was going on. Then, I felt my magic run out and wondered how it hadn''t run out sooner. And the world went black.
"AAAAAAAHH!! Please don''t kill me!!" Were the first words that came out of my mouth upon waking. I was heaving. Gasping for air while I felt my lungs burn. I looked around in a panic and realized that this wasn''t the Dungeon. That this wasn''t even the farm. I was back in my room and the door had been fixed. I kept gasping. Drenched in cold sweat as I recalled the near-death experience. ''What? What the fuck just happened? Did I dream that?'' "No." A voice came from the hallway. "You did not just dream that city-boy. You did almost get killed by coach Russell. You were saved by my great Grandpa and Casper. You have, indeed, survived all that and slept through your own body''s regeneration. It is now October 15th and you''ve spent quite a few days in bed. Recovering from what experts would refer to as, having your spine and lungs removed via your asshole." I blinked at her. Honestly, not even caring that she was in my house. "Why!?" Elsie shrugged. "You can take your pick of reasons. I mean, me and my friends and... well.... your friends, were all excited to kick your ass after the third gassing. That shit''s a war-crime by the way. Just in case you weren''t already aware." She said so much nonsense so nonchalantly that all I could do was blink in confusion. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. "Then, we were really on board for some light torture after you pulled out the Roach-Ammo for your monsters. Nothing too bad, just a few enthusiastic beatings from each person. That shit isn''t technically listed as a war-crime, but I''m willing to bet we could get it classified as one in less than an afternoon. I mean, holy shit Cecil. The Dum-Dum rounds were bad enough, but do you have any idea how it feels to have a giant magic bug burrowing inside your skin?" She shuddered. "Let me tell you, if your plan was to make everyone hate you before school started, then kudos. You are officially less popular than... actually, I can''t think of anyone who even comes close. The only upside is that most people our age and even some of the seniors, are scared to death of you. So congrats. You are not about to be bullied into oblivion. Me and the others are too scared of magic Bedbugs to try anything that would piss you off. You''re an evil monster for that by the way. I wouldn''t even have thought of it." She shudder again, before giving me a pitying glance. "I''m also pretty sure I''m the only friend you''ve got left." "What the fuck are you talking about!?" I roared. "What the fuck did I even do!?" She looked at me apologetically. "That leads us to the last point. Your core''s about to get blacklisted." She said it with the tone of a doctor informing a parent that their kid had leukemia. Sounding genuinely sad. "Why!? Why is that!? What does that even mean!? Stop leading me on and tell me what happened!?" She approached. Sitting on the bed and looking at me. "Well, about that. It''s a lot." She sighed. "To start with, you have an advanced version of a blacklisted Skill. That was one of the skills your Analyzer couldn''t pick up on. We''re still not sure if it''s all that bad, or at least, grandpa is pushing for it to be seen as less bad, but it''s still really, really bad. To put it simply, it''s a more advanced version of a skill called [Bloodlust]." I had to blink at the absurdity of such a name. "Oh, I wouldn''t discount it Cecil. It is very much a serious issue. What the original does is slowly whisper things into the person''s mind, when they would benefit from acting selfishly. It sounds banal enough, and in that state, it is. But the skill also protects the user from mind-altering effects. When the user is attacked, or when he or she is near death, the skill takes over and changed the person''s mindset. By force. Into one that will do anything and I really do mean, anything, to get ahead and stay alive. For your information, this skill is why cores like [Vampire] or [Chimera] or [Banshee] are blacklisted and their bearers monitored, despite most of them being altogether decent people." "And I have an advanced version of this?" I asked. Suddenly starting to piece it together. "You do." She confirmed. "Though yours is different in several key ways. For one, you didn''t outright murder us all. Even when you had several chances to do so. That, by itself, puts you above most other blacklisted cores and skills. Then there is the fact that you continued supplying the farm with magic and even recreated the first few floors to be easier, after great-Grandpa Carlyle arrived and sent the rest of the farmers down. That let us know there was at least some rational thought going on in your head." "I have no idea what you''re talking about." I told her, dreading every word of the conversation. "I don''t remember any of that." She nodded. "Yeah. I figured. That''s one of the reasons I''m here." She explained. "Me and mine have a skill just for these kinds of cases. But before I use it, I want you to take a look at your new Analyzer." "What do you mean my new... HOLY SHIT!!!" [Level 1 - Last Measurement Recorded.] [Vitality: 10.8 -> 14.2 (???) - (Continuous physical exertion - carrying loads exceeding 900 Kg over prolonged periods of time. Monster hunting - estimated 941 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated ??? specimens killed indirectly. Enduring severe physical damage. Enduring severe corrosive damage. Enduring severe psychic damage. Enduring attempted parasitism. Sustaining life-threatening injuries. Being partially devoured. Continuous regeneration. Continuous self-experimentation. Experimentation with skills.)] [Endurance: 10.3 -> 14.1 (???) - (Continuous physical exertion - carrying loads exceeding 900 Kg over prolonged periods of time. Monster hunting - estimated 941 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated ??? specimens killed indirectly. Enduring severe physical damage. Enduring severe corrosive damage. Enduring severe psychic damage. Enduring attempted parasitism. Sustaining life-threatening injuries. Being partially devoured. Continuous regeneration. Continuous self-experimentation. Experimentation with skills.)] [Potency: 8.4 -> 10.1 (???) - (Continuous physical exertion - carrying loads exceeding 900 Kg over prolonged periods of time. Monster hunting - estimated 941 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated ??? specimens killed indirectly. Enduring severe physical damage. Enduring severe corrosive damage. Enduring severe psychic damage. Enduring attempted parasitism. Sustaining life-threatening injuries. Being partially devoured. Continuous regeneration. Continuous self-experimentation. Experimentation with skills.)] [Precision: 8.0 -> 10 (???) - (Continuous physical exertion - carrying loads exceeding 900 Kg over prolonged periods of time. Monster hunting - estimated 941 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated ??? specimens killed indirectly. Enduring severe physical damage. Enduring severe corrosive damage. Enduring severe psychic damage. Enduring attempted parasitism. Sustaining life-threatening injuries. Being partially devoured. Continuous regeneration. Continuous self-experimentation. Experimentation with skills.)] [Fortitude: 10.2 -> 14.1 (???) - (Continuous physical exertion - carrying loads exceeding 900 Kg over prolonged periods of time. Monster hunting - estimated 941 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated ??? specimens killed indirectly. Enduring severe physical damage. Enduring severe corrosive damage. Enduring severe psychic damage. Enduring attempted parasitism. Sustaining life-threatening injuries. Being partially devoured. Continuous regeneration. Continuous self-experimentation. Experimentation with skills.)] [Level 2 - First Measurement Recorded.] [Vitality: 14.2 -> 28.4 (???) - (Level-Up!)] [Endurance: 14,1 -> 28.2 (???) - (Level-Up!)] [Potency: 10.1 -> 20.2 (???) - (Level-Up!)] [Precision: 10 -> 20 (???) - (Level-Up!)] [Fortitude: 14.1 -> 28.2 (???) - (Level-Up!)] [Connection Lost - Measurement Upon Re-Attachment] [Vitality: 28.4 -> 48.9 (???) - (Insufficient Data)] [Endurance: 28.2 -> 48.7 (???) - (Insufficient Data)] [Potency: 20.2 -> 39.5 (???) - (Insufficient Data)] [Precision: 20 -> 42 (???) - (Insufficient Data)] [Fortitude: 28.2 -> 48.2 (???) - (Insufficient Data)]
Name: Cecil Fowler
Core: [Life] (7th Stage) / Gains skills from: [Adaptation] / [Constitution] / [Healing] / [Hunger] / [Effort] / [Animal] / [Plant]
Level: 2
Vitality: 48.9
Endurance: 48.7
Potency: 39.5
Precision: 42
Fortitude: 48.2
Skills: [Drain] / [Perseverance] / [Heal] / [Transform] / [Spawn] / [Terraform] / [Over-Mind] / [Dungeoneer] / [Seeker-Mind] / [Assimilate] / [Stored Potential]
"Yeah. We actually had to name three completely new skills because of you. Great-Grandpa Carlyle and Grandpa James went through all your memories and named them based on their effect. You''ve had [Dungeoneer] and [Seeker-Mind] for a while now. They named a new one [Stored Potential], because they realized you''d been storing digested magic inside your own monsters, which shouldn''t be possible and that you''d been storing more magic than your own body could handle inside yourself. You stats were mostly at 35 or so when coach Russell beat the living shit out of you. It took you some time to absorb it all properly. Something else that you shouldn''t have been able to do by the way. Most people forcibly level when their stats reach 43 or so. Even reaching stats that high on the 2nd level is absurd. Again, Russell and Homer are geniuses who have abilities that boost the amount of stat points they get and their cap at level 2 was both 43. On two stats." She shook her head. "If you think about it, most people with good cores who live here reach level 2 when their stats are around 8 or so. Meaning they reach 16 in level 2, and then they gain an average of 10 points before levelling again. That leaves most level 3s at 78 on their best stats, starting out. With weaker ones capping out at 60 or so. Your stats are insane." I didn''t say anything. I could not say anything. My eyes still glued to the screen on my wrist. She waved her hands. I gaped at her. She nodded. Her auburn hair swirling as she did so. I felt a rustle on the bedsheets, as she drew closer. "Now then, I''m gonna be waking up those memories of yours and you can catch up to the rest of us." She touched my forehead with a swift motion and I saw. True evil. Chapter 56: Pariah. I was picking at the vegetables on the table with a fork. My eyes glued to the plate while the rest of the family ate. That is, the rest of the family, and Elsie. Who was apparently best friends with my aunt and cousin now. "I''m so glad Cecil finally woke up." Aunt Cheryl stated with glee. "Why, I didn''t know levelling up could result in such drastic changes." "What can I say, Cecil is special." Elsie joked. "He was amazing on the farm though. You should have seen how much food he made and how hard he worked. Even when great-Grandpa Carlyle brought in more employees. Cecil was always the first one to rise and the last one to go to bed. I hear some people even started calling him Conan. Like in that movie." Aunt Cheryl laughed. "Oh that is so like Cecil. Honestly, he''s always been such a responsible young man. Never acted his age. Not unless he was really upset. And even then, he never gave me or Uter trouble." She turned to my uncle. "Isn''t that right honey?" Uncle Uter looked up from his plate with an expression that could have curdled milk. Yet his features softened as soon as he looked at the rest of us. "Yes honey. Of course. I always said Cecil should have been able to play around more. He doesn''t know what he''s missing." Eva had been listening to the conversation with rapt attention and she now turned to me with a gleeful expression. "So? What kinds of magic can you do now?" I thought of the thing that had been wearing my skin. Of the crimes it had committed. I thought of the experiments. Of the lifeless human bodies thrown back into the Pools. Then, I thought of Mike, of Progress, of the Disappointments, of Mercy and Patience. Of the way they had begged. I was doubled over before I knew it. "Cecil!" Aunt Cheryl screeched. "If you''re going to throw up then do it in the washroom!" I took her advice and rushed for the toilet. I grabbed the thing with both hands and hurled. Until there wasn''t anything left in my stomach. I stayed there for the rest of the hour and didn''t come out again until it was time to do the dishes. Cupcake was there waiting for me. And beside her, Elsie. Helping aunt Cheryl with the cutlery. I walked past them and went to the yard. Finding a log and sitting on it, with both hands glued to my cheeks. I sat there for another hour. Staring at nothing in particular. My eyes could see much farther now, despite the encroaching darkness of fall. I could make out each and every leaf on each and every tree for about half a kilometer. My eyes tracking each sway without much effort on my part. I even knew uncle Uter was coming over without having to turn my head. He sat on a stool that he''d brought and waited for me in silence. "It''s all lies." I told him. "I figured." He said nonchalantly. "They probably had you working on a coal mine next to some hungry orphans for you to act like that." "No. Not that part. I really was on a farm and I really did grow more food than you could possibly imagine and I was the first to get up and the last to stop." He grunted. "And then?" I choked on my own breath. Feeling a single tear running down my face. "I... I did some bad things. Uncle. I... I don''t.... I lost control. I don''t even know what to do about it. I..." "Me too." He said calmly. I turned to him. Fury rising. "No! Not you too! You couldn''t know. You couldn''t even imagine the things I... the things I..." My hands went for my stomach and I dry-heaved onto the yard. Thankfully, there was nothing left for me to throw up. Uncle Uter watched me silently. Not saying a word. Then he placed a single hand on my shoulder and drew me in so that my head rested on his own shoulder. It felt awkward and comical, given how much bigger I was. But I found that I did not care. I kept crying. "I got a core, you know. [Chimera]. Apparently it has a lot in common with yours." I nodded, but couldn''t say anything. "The nurse was very rude. She even went so far as to say she was surprised I got something that good." Uncle Uter snorted. "The people here never miss an opportunity to put the little man down. Honestly. I was told that it was on the 4th Stage, and they were acting as if it was too good for the likes of me. And it isn''t the first time. I''ve had a few opportunities to talk to other people from different communities. The kind that the good folk here don''t like to talk about. People with basic cores or Stage 2 or 3 cores." Uncle Uter let out a self-deprecating laugh. "They get treated like lepers you know. Like there''s something wrong with them. Despite their only crime having been born with less magic potential than others. You should see how it really is Cecil. These people, they''ve internalized their own oppression. Rationalized it even. I had some very respectable gentlemen, in very high positions, kiss my ass like there was no tomorrow, just because I was related to someone with a 7th-Stage core. I only mentioned you in passing, but that was all some of the folks there could think about. A couple even wanted you to meet their daughters. It was disgusting."If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. There was steel in his voice now. Cold and unrelenting force that carried his own feelings. "I lost it. Shouting at her. Then at the doctor. Then, I don''t know. I lost some time. Next thing you know, I''m in the slammer for biting the doctor. Apparently I went for the throat. The woman was level 6, so she didn''t feel it, but those are still serious charges. I got 300 hours of community service and the judge told me I got off easy, due to my stressful circumstances. Then he told me I was on a watchlist due to having a blacklisted Skill." Uncle Uter sighed. "It''s been quite a tumultuous month, to say the least. I feel as though everything is wrong and it''s all my fault. So yes, Cecil. I understand. You can tell me the truth. Whatever it is." I told him. Everything. "Well. Fuck me." Uncle Uter spoke up when it was done. "That was way worse that I thought." He paused for a second. "But I still don''t think it was all your fault Cecil." "How is this not my fault?" I asked through sobs. "Well, for one, you''re fourteen. One, four. The old coot knew this and he still left you unsupervised in the middle of North Korea of all places. Surrounded by people who could have been terrorists or predators or cannibals for all he knew. He then came back only occasionally and then tried to push his great grandkid on you." He paused to spit. "Don''t get me wrong, Elsie''s been a great help around the house and Cheryl and Eva love her. She''s been putting in effort to make both of them fit in and they both appreciate it. Especially Eva. Elsie, she''s... She''s an alright kid. But that''s just it. You two are kids. What the old coot did, what he and all these sick people stand for, is all kinds of fucked up. If this were the real world, there would be at least one lawsuit headed his way. Just for that bit." He spat again. "Then, as if that weren''t enough, he left you to roam as much as you wanted. Unsupervised. Around a place he knew damn well would be crawling with monsters sooner rather than later and he did all this knowing that you were new to magic and that you''d recently had a blackout where you couldn''t recall what had happened. No matter how you slice it, that is a load of irresponsible bullshit piled several floors high." His grip tightened. Though even at its strongest, I still felt it as a weak tug. "Mind you, if this were the real world, me and Cheryl would never leave you alone after dark. Not with your friends and certainly not with adult strangers. Call us helicopter parents or overbearing guardians or whatever else you like, but I would never dream of leaving you unsupervised. I love you too much. We all do. I could never face your father if I...." He choked back tears. "Even with magic and global hunger factored in, that screams suspicious bullshit." "Is the hunger real?" I asked him suddenly. "Did I at least help?" "You did." Uncle Uter spoke at once. "More than you could possibly imagine. There are children all across the world that are eating well because of you." He chuckled dryly. "None of them are in first-world countries, on account of the investigations, but no one can deny the fact that this enterprise has saved lives." I felt a bit better after hearing that. Not a lot, but it helped. "What''s the investigation about?" I asked after a while. I noticed the change immediately. Uncle Uter felt happier. Standing straighter. "Oh, that''s nothing. It just so happens that one of the other compounds has a mole." "A mole?" "An informer." Uncle Uter clarified. "Someone who, somehow, managed to gather a whole lot of incriminating evidence against one Mr. Carlyle Robertson. From suspiciously timed acquisitions to suspiciously good runs on the stock market every now and then, followed by years upon years of silence. Almost as if he knew what would happen." "Of course he knew what would happen. He''s a time traveler." "Well, yes. But that''s not how a judge would see it. Make a few good calls in long career and it might be seen as luck or skill. Pull out of Enron right before it falls and invest it all on up-and-coming tech companies and it might be seen as vision. Pull that off three or four more times without ever losing any major trades and that becomes a completely different matter. They might instead see it as, oh I don''t know, fraud. Fraud on a massive scale." He chuckled. "Then there is the fact that all your crops are, unusual. Which has led to more federal and international inquiries. What with all the constipation that suspiciously doesn''t seem to have adverse effects or cause any real blockage at all. Almost as if the whole meal is completely used up without any waste being produced in the body. Add in the suspicious way all these rural people are now speaking English as if it was normal on top of their native language, the sudden buildup of muscle, the fact that a lot of them now look 3 to 8 years younger and you can kind of see their point. This stuff seems magical, which usually means there''s a catch. The current consensus is that Mr. Robertson''s been tampering with genetic engineering at an unprecedented level, without running the changes past the FDA first." "Fair enough." I grumbled. "I''d think that too, if I were in their shoes." "Then there are the accusations of racism and discrimination to consider." "Mr. Robertson is racist?" I asked. Honestly surprised. "He''s got all kinds of family members married to all kinds of people." "True." Uncle Uter agreed. "But none of those people are French. Or Japanese. As luck would have it, there has never been a single person of Japanese descent working for any of Mr. Robertson''s companies on the executive level. None with any real power anyway." "That seems flimsy." I said. "I''m not sure how those trials go, but I think you need more than that to convict him of anything." "Oh that''s just the start of it Cecil." Uncle Uter assured me. "There is also documented evidence that Mr. Robertson has been shorting the stocks of Japan-based companies for decades. Even when he stood to lose millions. Maybe out of a grand vision of profit, maybe out of pure spite. Anytime he managed to weaken one of those local enterprises enough, he would buy them out, shut them down, dissolve the company''s assets and sell them all for a tidy profit. Or not. Again, he''s done this even when stood to lose money on the venture." That, somehow did not surprise me. With all the things I knew about the old man, this level of pettiness would be completely in-character. "Is that illegal?" I asked. Genuinely not knowing. "It depends on what tactics were used, but it isn''t inherently illegal." Uncle Uter informed me. "What is questionable are those recordings the mole managed to fish out of the servers in Europe. The ones where he calls French people a bunch of cheese-sniffing surrender monkeys. Among other things. Then he went on to say that maybe a third of those cheese-sniffing surrender monkeys actually knew who their real fathers were. If they were lucky." "Holy shit." I said aloud. "Yeah. And you don''t even want to know the things Mr. Robertson has said about Japanese people behind locked doors. He''d fit right in with certain extremist groups." I looked back to the house. "Aren''t you worried that Elsie will read your mind?" "No." Uncle Utter smiled at me. "As luck would have it, there is an upside to having a blacklisted Skill." He leaned in closer. "If you focus some magic through those channels, you can make any mind-readers blank out around you. With a bit of focus, you can even make them hear the voice of the Skill, instead of your own voice. It doesn''t take much. I promise. Not nearly enough to lose control. Try it." I paled and brought my head up so that I was looking down at him again. "No!" "Just try it." Uncle Uter insisted. "I promise it won''t amount to anything. I''m even doing it right now." "No!" I insisted. I was about to leave, when uncle Uter grabbed my hand. "Cecil." He began again. "I know how it feels to lose control. I know. That''s why I''m trying to help you." He stood up too. "You''ll never feel comfortable in your own skin again unless you get control over the Skill. You know that. Running away from it won''t lead to anything good." He tightened his grip again. "Just, trust me. Have I ever lied to you before? Have I ever tricked you into doing something that wasn''t in your own best interest?" I stopped but couldn''t bring myself to even consider it. "I''m sorry, Uncle. I can''t..." "Cecil." He interrupted me. "This is important. I don''t want you to feel unsafe. Not in regards to yourself. Please. For me." I looked into his eyes. Pleading with him. Yet they would not budge. So, I let a bit of magic trickle through. Just a little. And I felt a shield forming around my head. No, not a shield. A covering. A second, disconnected will. Then, that will spoke up. ''I can explain.'' Chapter 57: The Advocate. ''You deserve better! We deserve better! These fools do not deserve us! Realize our potential and.... blah blah blah! Evil blah! Murder blah! Kill blah! War crime blah!'' I was more or less paralyzed. Trying to decided whether or not the voice really belonged to my skill or whether coach Russell had done some lasting damage when he kicked my skull in. For starters, I cut off the circulation of magic to the Skill at once. I turned to my uncle. "Uncle Uter, when you asked me to let some magic through my skill, did you know my Skill would be talking back?" He shrugged. "I assumed so. Yes. My owns Skill has been talking more or less non-stop since I got it." He scratched his head. "You can slow down the flow of magic if you want it to quiet down. If an old fart like me can do it after their first day, then you should have no problem." He smiled. "You''re far more talented than someone like me, after all." I felt as though coach Russell rushed over and uppercut me once more. "Sweet merciful Buddha! We''ve got to get you some help!" He chuckled knowingly. "No, Cecil. I don''t need help. Quite the contrary. I feel complete and in control for the first time in forever." He drew in self-satisfied breath. Holding it in until it permeated his lungs and releasing it in a slow, deliberate hiss. "The Skill isn''t some alternate madman whispering in your ear. It is the voice of self-assurance. Of self-preservation. Of looking out for yourself." He looked abashed. "I mean, sure. I lost control back there with the doctor, but in all honesty, I can''t say I feel bad in the slightest for biting them back there. They had it coming. It''s just, the Skill let out that part of me that really wanted to do it, while suppressing my inhibitions." He gave me a meaningful look. "The Skill is a part of me that does not care for social norms. The part of me that finally stood its ground and demanded respect." He patted my head and gave me a warm smile. "It finally let me see that you were right all along. I should have been hunting down in the Dungeon. I should have spent every free minute of the day delving deeper and getting more acquainted with my own body again. I regret that now. I see how right you were. I promise it won''t happen again." "Uncle!" I began. "This and that are completely different things! You bit some doctor! People have breakdowns and bite doctors all the time in places like Florida and Ohio! It''s almost normal there! I''m pretty sure it doesn''t even make the local news! I..." I choked on the words. "The other me... Pool-Cecil... That guy''s a monster!" Uncle Uter raised an eyebrow. "More than the coach who promised to look out for you and who recently beat you half to death? After abandoning you in rural North Korea?" "Yes!" I stammered. Stunned that he would even make the comparison. If I were being honest, coach Russell''s beating was completely justified. Pool-Cecil didn''t kill all my fellow students because it would have been inconvenient. Not because he felt any kind of empathy or connection to human lives. The dude literally cloned himself. Memories and everything, and then proceeded to torture the ever-living shit out of all his clones. All my clones. The people, boys and girls, who now have my own memories and personality. I dry-heaved. Trying to hurl on reflex. But there was nothing left to throw up. Uncle Uter reached up and patted me on the back. "Open the link Cecil." He said. "Not a lot. Just enough to talk to the Skill. To that other side of you. See what that other side has to say before you make any kind of judgement call." "Why would I... after everything I told you...?" "I know about the Inquiry Cecil." He said. With the same casual ease with which someone else might discuss the weather. The evening autumn wind howled then, as I was left speechless. The trees around us shedding golden-brown leaves as they whistled in a chilling symphony. "They''re going to meet with you and with us. A bunch of people who don''t know the first thing about you or me or our family. A bunch of people who have a vested interest in taking advantage of you. Who see you as a car or a boat they can take out whenever they want, instead of a person. They might try to label you as evil, but never forget they were the ones who lured us here and then kept us from leaving. You didn''t ask to go to that Dungeon. The old bastard took you there. To serve his own ends. Yes, you might have helped some people and harmed others, but I still don''t think the penalties should fall on top of you. No matter what you think of your own Skill. It was they who put you there. It was they who wanted to use you. Until it became inconvenient."Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. I looked at my uncle again. Really looked at him. I noted the way he held himself, without any of his usual stiffness. I noted the way he was casually dressed in a thin, plain white shirt and khaki shorts without shivering or looking the least bit uncomfortable. I noted the way his emerald green eyes and sandy blond hair reflected the moonlight. A lake of silver atop those steady gemstones. He looked at ease. Completely satisfied with himself and completely in control. "Try it again, Cecil. Hear this side of you out. Make your judgements after you''ve heard what he has to say." Uncle Uter stood up without another word and made for the forest. As if walking into the pitch-black woods was something he did on the regular these days. His strides as even and graceful as those of a lion or tiger roaming through their hunting ground. ''What''s gotten into him? I just confessed that I was guilty of at least a dozen felonies and more than one war crime. And he just brushed all of it off. Like I was discussing the weather. That and he just talked about hearing voices as if it were another everyday thing like picking up groceries.'' I thought about he''d said. And about what Elsie had said. Then I ran over to the house and looked for her. "Hey!" I called out as I made my way around a corner. "I need help!" She and Eva looked up at me. Both were laying on the floor finishing a puzzle. Both looked equally surprised to see me. "Cecil." Elsie began. "I didn''t read your thoughts when you were coming in. Everything all-right?" "No. Everything is not all-right. I need to talk to someone. Someone who knows their stuff about magic. Usually I''d reach out tom coach Russell but..." "But he''ll probably be less than pleased to see you." She finished for me. "Also, he won''t answer cause he''s still in jail. Okay. Why don''t you call coach Homer then? You''ve got his number on the Analyzer." I gaped at her. "What? Just because their family doesn''t mean they talk to each other all that much. Coach Homer was the first to lose his mind at his dad when he saw the state you were in. He''s not going to turn you down if you ask him for help." "I''d... rather not." I finished. "I need to talk about... look. Can I get your great-Grandpa''s number? Or your Grandpa''s? I hear he know his stuff too." She stared up at me. Her eyes meeting mine. "I have a different idea. Why don''t we go outside and talk about this?" She gave me the usual impish grin. "No teasing. I promise." I groaned internally, but followed her outside. "Okay. I know this sounds crazy but..." "Your Skill talks to you." She interrupted. "You knew!? Does everybody know about these things? Why am I the last to find out?" "I dunno. Cause you woke up a couple of hours ago." She replied. Brushing her hair away from her eyes with one hand while holding her chin with the other. "It really isn''t that weird. There are cores like [Madness] or [Medium] whose whole thing is hearing voices. Yeah, it sounds sinister, but they do great curse damage and none of their Skills are blacklisted." That left me speechless. "Also, you forget that my level is higher than yours and that I was never a slouch while training. I heard the entire conversation from your living room." That brought me back to reality. "So you agree we need to get my uncle some help ASAP?" "No. Actually. All the info he gave you was good. I would recommend the same thing. It''s textbook advice around here. Even if a Skill is blacklisted, that doesn''t mean you don''t use it. It means you use it in controlled settings until you''ve got a good grasp of it." She gazed up into the starry sky. Pondering how to follow up her statement. "Think about it like potty training. You''ll still go, no matter how much you try to stop it. But things will be easier for everyone if you get used to doing it yourself and not getting the rugs messy. Does that make sense?" "No." I answered. "You are telling me to listen to the creepy voice in my head. You are wrong." "If that''s the case, then why did you ask for advice?" She arched an eyebrow. Failing to suppress a grin. "Honestly Cecil. I''m not messing with you. Go ask anyone with any kind of experience or, heck, pick up the textbooks once we get to normal classes again. It''s all there." She brought up a hand to forestall me. "Mind you, I''m not saying this Pool-Cecil isn''t evil. I am totally on your side that he is evil incarnate. Those Bedbugs were not fun to deal with I teel you. And what he did to the clones was all kinds of messed up. Horror movie material." She reached closer and clasped my hand in hers. "What I am telling you is that all Skills are different. Even ones that seem similar. [Bloodlust] is a bitch to deal with when your teammate flips out mid-fight, but the voice does give decent advice most of the time. At least, for the wielder. It kinda acts like a very angry, very loyal Pitbull. Snarling at anything it doesn''t like, but keeping their master safe at all times. [Bloodlust] also doesn''t typically advise hurting people you care about, unless it activates in fight-or-flight mode. Your Skill is obviously different, hence the different name. Grandpa James settled on [Seeker-Mind] because the main theme linking its actions and motivations was self-improvement. Yes, you lost control, but that doesn''t mean you''ll lose control next time. Or the time after that. It all depends on your own efforts." She could see that I wasn''t convinced. Her grip tightened and, for a moment, I could almost believe she cared. "Again, nothing is set in stone. There will be an Inquiry. This is going to be discussed by a bunch of experts and they''re going to keep meeting up until we fully understand the Skill. This is how we do research to make informed decisions around these parts." She let go and stepped back. "Now. Let''s practice. Let some more magic through and tell me what it says." The impish smile returned. "I promise to stop you if you go crazy again." I winced. But I did feel better. Having uncle Uter say all those things before walking off into the night had been anything but reassuring. It was good to have a second opinion. "Okay." I said. Letting go of some more magic. ''... and none of them respect you in the way that you deserve! You are a lion walking among sheep! You should not concern yourself with their opinions! Give me control again, even partial control and I will lead us to greatness! Think about what I''ve already done for us! For you! Didn''t you feel used and scared and vulnerable when the old man pushed his magic onto you? Didn''t you feel small after realizing the gulf between you two? I changed that! Me! I made it so that no one will ever disrespect us again! I made it so that we could take whatever it is that we wanted with impunity! I could have brought us to level 3 right then and there! And then to level 4 and 5 and 6 and 7 and 8! I could have surpassed the lustful brute and the old man both! I could have ruled the world with an iron fist!'' All of that came out in one string of words. Making me dizzy. ''And I would have gotten away with it too! If it weren''t for those pesky kids and their monkey!'' ''Don''t you mean coach?'' ''Hmn? Yes. What did I say?'' Chapter 58: Not Unique. I was walking around town once more. Curiously looking around for any changes. The first and most obvious difference came from the makeup of the town. That is, there were a lot more people walking around. All of whom had one particular thing in common. They had all been on the farm prior to that point. Not that you could tell by looking at them. Each and every person moving about wore fresh new clothes in the style of everyday Canadians. Things like jeans mixed with different shirts, with either a branded blazer or a fine hoodie on top. What''s more, none of them retained even a trace of hunger. Nor did they hold on to the fear, apprehension and general misery they''d had when I first laid eyes on them. In fact, looking at them now, it would be difficult for anyone to consider these people as outsiders in the town. "Wait a second. Doesn''t this count as human trafficking?" I asked Elsie. "What makes you say that?" Elsie asked innocently. "Because these people were in North Korea before and now they''re here. In northern Ontario. Canada. That''s quite far." Elsie shook her head. "It''s only trafficking if they''re against it." She informed me, in a voice that was just shy of condescension. "All these people you see here volunteered to be here. They wanted to leave their homes, for a bit. I order to get the training they know they need." I narrowed my eyes at that. "Okay, first of all. I''m 99% sure that''s not how that works. Pretty sure border checkpoints are still a thing. Also, that sounds like your great-Grandpa doing something shady." "Well I won''t deny that." "But why though? Why even bring all these people here?" ''As cattle, obviously.'' The evil-ass voice whispered in my head. ''What else would they be good for?'' ''Quiet you!'' I hissed internally. The voice recoiled in my mind, as if struck. ''Now, do not be hasty child. There are advantages to them being here. Ask for a few samples. If there are this many, the old man might grant us some. We could make great inroads to our...'' ''There is no us!'' I snapped back. "For their own education. Duh." Elsie replied as if I were stupid. Completely oblivious to the conversation within my head due to the Skill blocking off her mind-reading. "These people might have cores now, but that doesn''t mean they know the first thing about using them or about magic in general. You had coach Russell to guide you every step of the way and even then, you only covered the basics in great detail." She paused to greet another girl. Someone who must have been from the farms, given the way she looked at all the buildings in town with a gleeful fascination. The other girl waved enthusiastically at us. Calling her by name and calling me Mr. Conan. Then she left and Elsie resumed talking. "Besides, a very small number of families actually came here to Dunstonberry. Way more of them were diverted into other Dungeon communities or settled into the burgeoning town around your Dungeon." "This doesn''t look like a small number." I countered. "It looks like the town''s doubled in size overnight." "That''s because most of them like to hang around downtown. Having disposable income is new and exciting and having access to consumer goods makes it even more novel of an experience. In reality there''s only a thousand new residents. The first thousand to get cores. Another five thousand people who recently got cores got displaced to other parts of our operation and yet another ten thousand are tackling your farm and your Dungeon in order to get cores even now." ''My Dungeon.'' The voice of Pool-Cecil growled. ''My realm. My units. My rightful place!'' ''I swear I''m gonna burn the whole thing to the ground if you don''t shut up!'' ''Fool. How would that even work?'' I paused. ''Okay. I''ll do what you did and birth myself a clone. One with a [Life] core.'' There was a longer pause. ''You wouldn''t dare.'' I cut off most of the magic I was sending to the skill. Keeping just enough to push Elsie''s mind-reading away. He was right, I wouldn''t. Because if I did, Mr. Robertson would have no reason to treat me or my family well. Or to keep me alive in general. Perhaps it was my paranoia speaking, but I didn''t want to take that chance just yet. ''Plus, it wouldn''t change anything.'' I told myself. ''For all I know, the clone might get their own blacklisted Skill and go on a completely different spree. What I need is a way to make sure I don''t black out and let Pool-Cecil take the reins.'' Elsie whistled to herself. Again, completely ignorant of what was going on. "Yes sir. You might have shit the bed, but you can still be happy about having a generally positive effect Cecil. Grandpa James says we might be able to save a couple more billion people around the world if we keep expanding at this rate." "Just from a month and a half of changes? That, seems like a stretch." I told her. "Not really. Great-Grandpa Carlyle said there were only about 7000 people with any kind of power last time and humanity clung on pretty well. All things considered. We had over three times that number in different communities before you showed up and we''re close to doubling that number now. The people you helped feed, the ones who first came with us to the Dungeon when you had your little fit, they''ve got 4th and 5th Stage cores. Some even came out with 6th Stage cores, though they''re always rare no matter what the conditions are. Even your friend Shortround came out of it with a [Space] core. It might not be all that offensively, but that stroke of luck alone means she''s high society now."This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. I considered that for a moment. Doing some quick math in my head. If what Elsie said was true and there were around 10, 000 or so people training on the farm and in my Dungeon, then that meant we were looking at new cores every 45 or so days, extrapolating based on the time I''d woken up. It was likely shorter or longer depending on the individual, but I wanted a simple rough estimate. 365 divided by 45 was a little more than 8. Rounded down for simplicity, 8 times 10, 000 was 80, 000. Times 3, the number of years we had left according to Mr. Robertson and that came out as 240, 000. Almost a quarter of a million people. Yeah. When she put it like that, I could see how my actions might have had a positive effect. "Wait a second. Won''t someone notice all the new superhumans leaping around? Especially if a place like North Korea gets ahold of them? What are places like South Korea or Japan or the US going to think when they see the usual border guards being replaced by roided-up ninjas leaping 30 meters into the air and throwing lightning bolts around?" Elsie gave me a sideways glance. "I assume they''ll notice eventually. But Grandpa James told me we''re moving up the schedule in general. He''s already planning 20 more incidents like the one in Alaska. Just to make sure the media picks up on magic in a way the governments can''t completely cover up. The idea is for regular people to at least be aware of the basics through mass dissemination and for at least 5% of the global populace to have some kind of advanced core and to have the knowledge and willpower to get that for themselves." "That still doesn''t answer the bit about North Korea. Last I checked, they weren''t exactly known for being one of the most reasonable countries around. I can guess that Mr. Robertson has some kind of agreement with the supreme leader or whatever he goes by these days, but what if the other guy sees all his new magic subjects and decides to give your family the finger? What if he goes public and says that North Korea is best Korea and that he plans to make it the only Korea? The dude''s been launching missiles for a while now you know? That doesn''t exactly scream level-headed." I furrowed my brows then. Thinking of all the ways this could go wrong. "And what about the regular citizens we''re powering up? Aren''t those people exposed to constant propaganda? What if they attack someone across the border because they figure they can tank a couple hundred bullets? What if they''re right and the South Koreans freak out?" Elsie gave me another condescending look. "Oh yes Cecil. I''m sure the people we rescued from political imprisonment, slave labor camps and certain death will be very inclined to use their newfound powers in order to crush the capitalist pigs. Very smart of you. It isn''t as if those kinds of people are constantly trying to escape to the South or any other capitalist country." I did not bother to hide my displeasure at her snide comment. She noticed and raised her hands to her chest in a placating gesture. "Okay, okay. Jeez. Can''t even joke around with you these days." "Look." I began again. Growing more serious. "I get that the people Mr. Robertson has been helping, that I''ve been helping, have been downtrodden. I get that. But there can''t be enough folks trapped on concentration camps to fill the Dungeon farm. Not for more than a few months anyway. That means that at least some of the new arrivals will start to come from regular towns instead, if your family wants to keep the project going. At least a fraction of those new arrivals will be loyalists to the regime and at least some of those loyalists are going to see their newfound power and get ideas. Even if we assume the supreme leader is totally on-board with all of this, how long will it be before we see some kind of coup? How long will it be before some other countries start to notice their unhinged neighbor raising a legion of super-people?" Elsie went quiet for a few seconds. Allowing the silence to stretch on as we passed new storefronts filled to bursting with new costumers. "To be honest, I don''t know all the details Cecil." She said bluntly. With some hint of apprehension leaking into her voice. "I know a lot of things because Grandpa James and dad and great-Grandpa Carlyle let me know, but I don''t have all the details. From what I''ve heard, the South finding out is part of the plan, but a part that won''t come together until later. Grandpa James seems to be completely convinced that both countries will unite semi-peacefully. Like West and East Germany. The way he puts it, the most problematic aspect of the whole thing will be all the economic refugees fleeing to the South once the borders collapse. Most of his attention is going towards modernizing a lot of rural areas so the flood of people won''t be so large once the date comes. And no, before you ask, I don''t know how the supreme leader or any of the existing leadership factors into all of this. I just know that no one in my family thinks there''ll be a problem." I narrowed my eyes again. "Were you reading my mind to know what I would ask?" "Not this time. I can''t read you when you''re using that Skill." I flinched. Though I did notice that she didn''t seem as aggressive or... well... scared as I would have been in her shoes. Her deep blue eyes found my own and a slight impish smile crossed her features. "Come on now. I won''t begrudge someone using their own Skills if they''re trying to practice. You have the right idea, using it as you are now. I told you. The best way to pass the Inquiry is to show that you''re not scared of using it and that you can use it selectively without turning into a supervillain on a dime. Keep working on it slowly and you''ll eventually get to a point where you can have the benefits it gives you, without having to worry about the drawbacks." She tugged my shoulder and gave me a more reassuring smile. "I should know. There are plenty of Skills from the [Knowledge] core that I would consider sinister, but you don''t see me abusing them. And besides, even if they blacklist the Skill, so what? The most they''ll do is keep you under watch, which they''re already doing because of how important you are. Nothing will really change." I digested that last bit. "Thank you. I... I appreciate it and... wait a second!" I snapped my head in her direction. "What do mean you''ve got sinister Skills?" "That''s what you chose to focus on?" She complained. "I was trying to make you feel better." I kept staring. "Okay okay. So, maybe I can see the future a little bit." A sudden shiver crept up my spine. It must have shown in my face because she immediately clarified. "It isn''t as if I can tell what''s going to happen at any given second Cecil. More like, I can tell what''s going to happen in 2 or 3 seconds if I focus. That and I can get a certain, vibe, off of people." "A vibe?" "Yeah. Like, a feeling of how they really are and how they''ll act towards me. And ow I will feel depending on the long-term effect they''ll have on me." "That sounds extremely vague and the parts that aren''t vague are making me freak out even more." "I know." She groaned. "The point I was trying to make was that you shouldn''t feel like you''re some sort of circus freak because of what happened. It is odd and it is unprecedented, but not unique in the grand scheme of things. Everybody has things they can do that others can''t. Everybody has an aspect of their magic that would land them on a lot of government lists. Keep practicing and things will work out." I nodded and kept walking. Recalling once more that I wasn''t going out for a stroll, but heading to the local courthouse. I was then overcome with an urge to change the subject. "I guess that means we''ll be expanding the farm?" "Of course that''s what it means Cecil. Also, it is now farms. As in plural. Demand is spiking even more now, despite the investigations in Europe and America." I felt my stomach twisting at that. "Did something happen?" "Yep. Major droughts in lots of fertile places. That, and dust storms around the American mid-west and magic-saturation in most of South America and Sub-Saharan Africa. Mostly centered around the Sahel region, but the crop failures stretch all the way east to the Levant and all the south to South Africa. Add to that the fact that there''s another major series of floods and earthquakes in China and the world is pretty much screwed." She paused, as if contemplating her own words. "I''m honestly surprised this inquiry''s going forward at all." "Do you mean the global inquiry against your family or the inquiry we''re going to right now?" "Both." She stated, matter of fact. "It''s all a farce anyway. Everybody knows nothing is going to happen, even if the Skill gets blacklisted. There''s too much to gain and very little to lose, so long as you''re properly supervised from now on to keep Pool Cecil out of the real world. As for the international one, well...." She shrugged. "A famous general once said that an army marches on its stomach and someone else once said that people are always a few missed meals away from the end of civilization. I can''t recall the exact quotes, but I can see the correlation between having food and a stable society. And I know plenty of others can see the correlation too. Sean in particular is always goin on about dinosaurs and mass extinction events. I do my best to tune most of his nonsense out, but I was also able to see a common denominator. Whenever there''s something like a mass volcanic eruption or an asteroid impact or whatever, the first step to total collapse is the lack of food. Which leads to a Great Dying." "The Great Dying was one particular event, not a general term." I corrected. "NEEEERD!" She ridiculed. Slapping me over the shoulder and laughing to herself. I grumbled a little more, but kept on walking. In the corner of my mind, I gave her a brief word of thanks, as I now felt a little bit better. Chapter 59: Inquiry. The courtroom was a humble building. Seven rows of wooden benches standing before an ample podium roughly a meter and a half tall. On the right lay two further rows of benches. Marking the space where a jury would be in any real trial. On the left were a collection of windows that let in soft rays of sunlight into the spacious chamber. The illumination serving to accentuate how immaculate the floors were. I sat in one of the benches near the front, but not at the front. There was a table in front of me, but there were still more tables between me and the podium where the judge was sitting. I had seen enough courtroom dramas to expect banter between the lawyers, opening statements and, on occasion, the Law and Order theme song playing in the background when someone said something stoic or dramatic. This courtroom had none of that. Everyone appeared relaxed and at-ease. More interested in gossiping and exchanging documents and pictures than in sending accusatory glances my way. There was also no jury. The guy I first guessed was my lawyer had explained that it was because I wasn''t being charged with anything. Since this was an Inquiry relating to the nature of my Skill, and to its dangers, the whole thing would be decided step-by-step, over the course of a year or two, with experts weighing in and giving their respective opinions. I was glad. Mostly because I was pretty sure I stood no chance of ever getting declared innocent in any real trial. Yet, I was also nervous, because that meant I had no idea what the court could or would do. I took the opportunity to look around one more time. Trying to make out the people around me. The judge looked familiar. In that he had the features I had come to associate with the main Robertson line. Only, I didn''t know him by name. Old man Carlyle was the very picture of a doddering old grandpa, despite being as spry as any of my friends. His son James had a mix of British and Asian features, with the signature Robertson blue eyes, flowing silky black hair and a sharp handsome jawline. His own son, Charles Robertson, had lost most of his Asian features and gained the auburn hair I had come to associate with Elsie. Neither looked a day over twenty, despite the difference in age. In contrast, the man in front of me looked as if he''d aged a bit. Not a lot, and probably nowhere near as much as he should have, but a bit. He looked to be around 31 or so. Maybe 32 or 33. With heavily tanned skin and oily black hair. Yet, despite some of his hair turning grey, the man carried himself with an almost palpable energy. Giving easy smiles and light-hearted chuckles every time someone passed him a slip of paper. Next to him was a man in a suit who I flat out didn''t recognize and a young beauty in a business skirt that had to have been Casper''s sister. Or daughter, it was hard to tell with these people. I wasn''t exactly sure what I''d been expecting when Elsie said she''s take me over to the courthouse for an Inquiry. I guess the closest thing that came to mind was a very stern-looking gentleman holding a very long piece of paper with all my nefarious misdeeds written on it. And it would have had to be a long piece of paper indeed to fit everything Pool-Cecil had gotten up to for no better reason than because he wanted more personal power. I myself could list several felonies off the top of my head and I wasn''t even a legal expert. Let''s see here: 1. Aggravated Assault with deadly weapons. On multiple counts, depending on how many people managed to go down into my Dungeon. 2. Reckless endangerment. Again, on multiple counts based on all the traps Pool-Cecil decided to lay down. 3. Multiple counts of murder regarding Pool-Cecil''s experiments. Though I didn''t know if they''d count as human. 4. Multiple counts of... I don''t even know. Torture? Regarding Pool-Cecil''s experiments. In all honesty I didn''t even know how to begin tackling that problem or even defining it. 5. I didn''t know the specific definition of messing with a Vietnam vet either. Nor the word for purposely giving them PTSD. I was pretty sure it was at least a felony. And that was before one even considered Pool-Cecil''s innermost thoughts. Such as the fact that he hadn''t cared for human life or the lives of his family in the slightest. Or the fact that he hadn''t hesitated to use coach Russell''s trauma for his own ends. The dude was a monster, in every sense of the word. Which made the current state of affairs that much more surprising. The atmosphere around the courtroom was relaxed. With people chatting excitedly and passing around pictures of the event. As well as pictures taken after the event. Some detailed the units that I and Pool-Cecil had created and deployed throughout the Dungeon. Other detailed the reports my fellow students had made, as well as their opinions on the matter. "All right then. I have a report here from a Ramji Y. Stating, and I quote: ''That (Expletive) bastard Cecil tried to have me shanked by a (Expletive) bastard rosebush on steroids. He better (Expletive) hope that I never lay eyes on him again. Because if I do, I''ll (Expletive) him up, tear his (Expletive) arms off and beat him to (Expletive) death with them.'' Huh." The man in the suit looked to the presiding judge. "Very strong choice of words, for someone who once called himself your friend, Mr. Fowler." I didn''t say anything. I didn''t know what I should have been saying. "That is just one of many accounts of that day. I have other reports here from your fellow students. Detailing the nightmares they''ve had since the event, as well as the trauma cause by your units. One of the more disturbing and commonplace recurring nightmares we''ve heard of so far is that of roaches crawling inside your fellow students'' skin while they lay paralyzed in bed. Apparently quite a bit of your fellow students were struck by your Burrower Roaches, as your units used them as ammunition. This has left quite a collective scar among your peers."The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. The man in the suit went over several pictures. Most of them showing roaches, alive and squirming, while half buried inside arms or legs or torsos. A few pictures showed one or more roaches fully submerged within the skin. Their outlines visible as they either died or went about the nasty business of digging deeper. The faces attached to those bodies didn''t seem overly thrilled, to say the least. "In addition..." ''There''s more?'' I thought suddenly. Then I immediately chastised myself for the stupidity. Of course there was more. On the list of things I''d done, this was perhaps one of the least offensive. "There was another incident where several of your units fired parasitic worm-like monsters into the bodies of your fellow students. 27 were affected over the course of the event. They too have come forward describing the nightmares hey have had since returning from the event." He and all the others gave me meaningful looks. "Do you have anything to say to that?" ''I did nothing wrong. These meatbags are fools and weaklings and they shall soon know my power!'' Pool-Cecil cut in. ''Quiet you!'' I bit back. Good thing he wasn''t in charge of my mouth. "I''d like to say I''m sorry." I told them. Fully meaning it. "Aren''t you going to explain why you did it?" "No?" I rebutted. A bit confused. "How would I even go about explaining that? I was in charge of all the units until the 12th floor. You''ve read my mind more than once. Elsie said so herself. You know it''s true and you also know there wasn''t anything I could do about it. I can tell you why Pool-Cecil did it, if you''d like. He developed those Roaches and those Worms as much as he did so that he could rip and tear his way through monsters twice his level." "But why would you, or Pool-Cecil as you call him, attack your fellow students?" ''Because they wanted to take what was ours! They encroached on our domain! They are the real roaches! Biting our toes and stealing our prey!'' "I think it was because he is secretly very insecure and he saw them as competition." I answered truthfully. "And why would he think that?" "Because they were his competition. Technically." I told them. "It''s not exactly a secret that I''m new around these parts. And it''s not exactly a secret that most of my peers are, or were, way above me in terms of stats and levels. As I understood things, I was part of one of the weakest teams in town, because coach Russell or Homer or whomever assigned the teams didn''t want me feeling left out." I took a deep breath to calm myself. "Now, I thought I was doing pretty well until that point, training as I did and keeping up with my teammates as best I could while getting ahold of my magic. I descended to the 12th because I still felt helpless, but I''d never attack other people because of those feelings. I just wanted to test my limits and get a head start. The best guess I can make is that Pool-Cecil reacted to how I felt on some level. But even then, that doesn''t explain all he did. I would have been more than happy reaching level 2 or coming close to it at that point. I wouldn''t have attacked other people so that I had more monsters to myself. I especially wouldn''t have gone down dozens of floors and risked my life for some extra stats. I was eager to improve, yes. But what Pool-Cecil did bordered on suicidal. Not to mention it was stupid of him to antagonize people for no good reason." ''Especially because he gave me back control right as the beating was coming, the prick.'' All the people in attendance nodded. "So, you don''t condone Pool-Cecil''s actions?" "No! Of course not!" "And you had no control over when you became Pool-Cecil?" "No. One moment, I was running out of magic and the next I was in the shiny room being beaten by coach Russell. I wasn''t awake or aware through any of it." "But you feel bad about it?" "O course I feel bad about it! I''m not some sicko who goes around hurting people for their own fun! That''s coach Russell''s thing!" Half the room burst out with laughter. A bunch of them started making notes. "Are you sure I shouldn''t have a lawyer?" I asked again, suddenly nervous. "This isn''t a criminal matter." The judge told me bluntly. "You aren''t being charged. Because as you said, we''ve had your mind read more than once. We''re just trying to discern the way your other self, Pool-Cecil, as you''ve dubbed him, works. We''re trying to discern the mechanisms by which the Skill works and what might trigger it in the future. How far his influence extends over the regular version of you, if it does at all and of course, whether the Skill constitutes a significant threat to yourself or others." He went over some of his earlier notes. "From what we''ve gathered, it seems to represent a threat to yourself more than to others, as it delved far beyond the usual ranges for your level. On the other hand, we''ve also seen that it was very calculating in the way it approached challenges on the lower floors. Even going so far as to avoid entering combat entirely, while it let its units do the hunting and killing. That is strange, based on the kind of behavior we are used to from Skills that affect one''s personality." "Okay." I said. "Um. I actually haven''t heard much about that. Could you explain it in more detail?" "Certainly." The woman began. "Skills like [Bloodlust] tend to make the wielder highly aggressive in a feral sort of way. Think of it like a fight or flight reflex. People who lose control in these cases usually revert to an animalistic frenzy. If they are on the losing side of a battle, they either run or fight until they have a chance to run. If they are winning, they usually get a sudden boost to all their stats until their opponents are dead. The reason why [Bloodlust], [Life Hunt], [Starvation] and other Skills like them are blacklisted, while Skills like [Rampage] from the [Barbarian] core are not, is that the former cannot distinguish between friends and foes once they enter their respective dissociative state." "There are other reasons of course." The man in the suit continued. "Skills like [Cursed Reprisal], [Lasting Spite] and [Kill Emotion] are all similar to [Bloodlust] in the way they work. At least when it comes to their effect on the user''s psyche. The crucial difference is that none of the former can be activated by accident, through stress or due to any other external circumstance. You have to want to use it. Meanwhile, [Bloodlust] can be activated anytime the user feels cornered or when their stress levels reach a certain point." He flicked a piece of paper in front of him with thick, calloused fingers. "That really is the crux of the issue. From what we''ve gathered, [Seeker-Mind] first activated when you began tampering with extra brains. Then it simply led you down to the Dungeon without causing anyone but your family too much trouble. We did not investigate this as perhaps we should have, due to the fact that Pool-Cecil designed creatures and had enough sense to keep them from attacking people. Even when they were attacked. If that had been the only incident, this would have been a short Inquiry indeed. However, an issue then arises because you then lost control again once your magical reserves had run out and you did not regain control until after being caught and defeated." "In essence." The judge followed up. "This is an Inquiry that seeks to determine whether there is a chance of you activating the Skill on accident in the future. Besides that, we''re meeting to discuss the possibility of you killing or otherwise permanently harming others while under the influence of the Skill. As well as the very real threat of you losing yourself to the Skill and never resurfacing." He flipped over some more documents. "Tell me, have you been cycling magic through the Skill all this time?" "Yes. My uncle said it would help me control it." "He''s right." The woman cut in. "Again, you should not think that having a blacklisted Skill would be the end of the world or anything. Plenty of people have [Bloodlust] or their equivalents under control and it never becomes a problem. We do supervise them, yes. But most of what we do is make sure they''re doing okay and encouraging them to take Yoga or other meditation lessons. For now, you should continue to cycle magic through it as often as you can. Start by putting in trickles of magic and then, if you feel that you can handle it without being overtaken, put in a little bit more. The key for this beginning stage will be to find your limits and to then find ways to increase those limits." I nodded. "I can do that." "Wonderful." The judge replied with good humor. "In that case, I think we can agree to have you working more closely with coach Homer, as coach Russell is currently on hiatus." ''Yeah. I bet his hands hurt from the beating he gave me.'' "With that out of the way, let us discuss a more sensitive matter. The legal status of your children." ''Oh.'' I thought with some surprise. ''Oh no.'' Chapter 60: Custody. They were all arrayed in a neat little line. All of them wearing pristine, form-fitting suits. All but the single male had started growing hair and that turned out to be the best way to differentiate between them. Well, that and the varying degrees of murderous looks I was getting. "So, I think we should all have just as much access to our family as him. Given that he gave us his memories." Mercy spoke without missing a beat. She looked more or less like me. Or rather, like mom. Only mom had been a brunette and Mercy was even more blonde than me. What little hair she''d managed to grow in the days she''d been alive had come out a half-shining resplendent gold. Nothing like my or uncle Uter or dad''s own sandy-blond hair. She looked a little older than me too, but only because Pool-Cecil had wanted his guinea pigs to come out already grown and in their prime, the bastard. "Mr. Robertson managed to awaken our memories and help us get out of our stupor. Before that point, I considered myself a tool to be used and discarded. And I saw that as normal. Once he used his own magic to make us snap out of it, I began thinking for myself and getting a grip on all the memories the other me left me with." "Do you see yourself as the real Cecil?" The judge asked with obvious curiosity. "I see myself as a different person, but I still recall everything about my, his, life. I remember everything. I don''t see myself as his daughter. I am him. Or a version of him. And I want to be able to live with my aunt and uncle and cousin just like before." She shot me a brief glare. "I think that''s the least he can do for me." I turned to the back corner, where uncle Uter was sitting. Aunt Cheryl and Eva weren''t present because he was worried things might get weird. I couldn''t help but think that this had been a massive understatement. "I would also like to request that Mr. Robertson stop trying to matchmake on my behalf. It wasn''t funny when he was trying to set me, or the original bastard, up with Elsie and it sure isn''t funny now. Again, I am my own person and I think I deserve the chance to live out my life as, well, not Cecil per se, but at least a member of the family. I am not interested in marrying Oscar Robertson. Nor anyone else for that matter." I turned my head to where Elsie was sitting. Raising a very alarmed eyebrow. She looked back at me. Winked. Stuck out her tongue to the side. And shrugged with an expression that screamed: "Sorry! Tee hee!" I imagined wrapping my hands around her throat. Then I recalled how supportive and all around helpful she''d been and I felt bad. "Oh, Oscar isn''t that bad." The judge began, before he noticed how wide my own eyes had gotten. Then he cleared his throat and excused himself. "Right. Moving on. You have a different core than Cecil''s own. Is that right?" "Yes." Mercy confirmed. "And, what is the current name and makeup of the core?" He asked. "Actually, would you consent to us seeing your status for the purposes of the proceedings?" "If it will help." Mercy stated curtly. The judge leaned over to the suited man. "Gene, can we get that up on the screen?" Gene nodded and fiddled with a tablet for a second, before a nearby projection screen put up a status screen for all to see.
Name: Mercy Fowler
Core: [Sanctuary] (7th Stage) / Gains skills from: [Perception] / [Shield] / [Healing] / [Force] / [Effort] / [Reprisal] / [Plant]
Level: 1
Vitality: 5.1
Endurance: 5.2
Potency: 4.1
Precision: 6.1
Fortitude: 4.2
Skills: [Heal] / [Detect] / [High Telekinesis] / [Counterblow] / [Nurture Plants] / [Zone of Supremacy] / [Constant Potential]This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
"Hey, aren''t those numbers a bit high?" I blurted out. Everyone turned to stare at me. Mercy included. "For how long she''s been alive, I mean." Just as I was beginning to redden, Mercy spoke up. "It''s the last two Skills. Our, I mean, your experiments ended up with me having 3 or so on most stats. Since you pumped so much magic into me at once. The training I''ve done since then and the Skills took care of the rest." She grimaced. "From what Mr. Robertson, James Robertson and a whole bunch of lab coats have been able to figure out, its a completely new core that focuses on constant, wide-area buffs. [Zone of Supremacy] lets me apply all my other Skills on a much wider area. All at once. And it lets me see more or less everything that happens in that area. All while most monsters are repelled-outright by the forcefield and the ones that make it through take constant damage for no added cost. Unless I decide to use my other abilities to attack or to immediately counterattack from a distance. That means that, on top of all those passives, I can heal or attack from 500 meters or so away. The radius might get bigger once I get more stats and level some more." She paused. "That and I can apply [Constant Potential] to a bunch of people at once. The Skill gives me a small trickle of magic to process at all times. Meaning I can give small stats gains to a bunch of people at the same time when I apply the zone. Even while out of combat. Even while they do nothing." I stood there for a good minute or two. Staring at her like how that two-headed crow had stared at me after it led a pack of wolves to me and coach Russell. ''Holy jumping gummy bears! No wonder the old man wants to marry her off to Elsie''s brother!'' If i was reading into things correctly, that combination of powers would let her grow food in the same way I did. Maybe even better. And with the added benefit of not having to worry about monsters or blacklisted Skills to boot. Furthermore, getting a nice steady trickle of pre-processed magic sounded like the kind of thing Mr. Robertson and all his goons had been researching for decades without success. Only for it to fall into their laps like mana from heaven. ''Come to think of it, doesn''t that mean he can give a bunch of people cores without really shoving monsters in their face? Isn''t that a much better alternative than having me set a bunch of monsters loose in major cities and towns?'' Probably not. The power sounded too good to be true, which probably meant there was some sort of annoying limitation. Such as the need for continued exposure, or perhaps the amount of magic it takes her to pass the passive buff to other people. What Mr. Robertson wanted was mass adoption and disposable monsters seemed like a much better fit for that plan. Even if led to people getting sub-par cores. Also, the range was only 500 meters right now. That sounded like a lot, but some major cities could stretch several dozen kilometers in all directions. Even if he planted Mercy down on a major intersection or busy street, it might only lead to a few hundred people getting decent cores if they travelled through there enough times. No. The real gains would come from people who stayed near Mercy long-term. Or at least, for as long as it took them to get cores. ''Ah.'' I realized with a start. ''So that''s why the plan is to bring that many new people to the Dungeon town in North Korea. The passive might lead to a slow improvement on the stats they gain and the cores they get. Given how cramped the living quarters are. Just give her a nice house in the middle of a new housing complex and watch the magic happen.'' Not to mention the possibility of giving cores, or at least significant advantages, to people too young to fight. Like Eva. "Okay. Now that we''ve got a better grasp on how the new Skills have developed, I have to ask. Mr. Fowler. Did you know what kind of core Ms. Fowler here would be getting?" "I had no idea what she got until you showed me." "So, the you that was under the influence of [Seeker-Mind] did not explicitly set out to create someone with this specific power-set?" "I don''t think so." I told him truthfully. "I think he was just throwing stuff at the wall to see what worked and what didn''t. I have a feeling he would have been happy with any late-stage core." The judge nodded. "That lines up with the notes we have from the members who went through your memories. Fair enough." He and many others started taking notes. "With that in mind, I think it is safe to say that you are more than capable of self-reproduction via unconventional means. Given your age and, unique circumstances, I hesitate to give you any kind of custody, but we can revisit that in a bit. For now, I would like to address the occurrence of you creating a child from yourself with no other assistance. One that had your core. Can you confirm this is something you are able to replicate?" "I probably could." I told them all. "But I won''t. That sounds all kinds of messed up and I am still plagued with nightmares. I am in no hurry to do anything like that again." "Not even at the explicit request of our community and under more controlled circumstances?" The suited woman asked. I turned to the woman. Then I blinked stupidly at her. Wondering if she''d somehow suffered a debilitating stroke that I simply didn''t notice in the past few minutes. "Uh. No. That sounds like a morally repugnant thing to even consider." The second part of that sentence: ''What the fuck is wrong with you, you stupid ignorant bitch?'' was left unsaid. For obvious reasons. Though I had a feeling all my copies were thinking the exact same thing, given the expressions they''d made. "Are you sure?" Gene insisted. "That does seem like it would allow us to make great strides in artificial core growth. Not to mention the usefulness of having more people with your particular skillset." He paused to look at his notes. "Or the usefulness of experimenting with enhancing already existing cores." "I... I''m pretty sure I can''t do that." A disturbingly large amount of these goons shared looks among themselves. "Would you be willing to try, at least?" "I would not be willing to try at this time." I told him. Which to me, was the polite way of telling him to shove a flagpole up his nether regions. "Let us move on to the next issue. Would you, Cecil Fowler, consider Mercy, Progress, Michael, Patience, Dana and Dorothy Fowler to be members of your family? And if so, would they be considered siblings, or children?" "Who are Dana and Dorothy?" He gave me a reproachful look. So did two of the copies. "I had their names changed with their consent. I wasn''t about to have someone waltz through a custody hearing with a name like Disappointment, Mr. Fowler. I will have you know that I am an actual judge and I have an actual law degree and actual experience away from Dunstonberry. I''ve seen some bad cases before, but even a name like that is a bit much for me." The whole court nodded along. As if to say: "Fair enough." "Now that you mention it, that does sound like the smarter idea." "Excellent. So, what do you think?" "I think I''m definitely not ready to be a parent." I blurted out. "But I can definitely see who this is kinda my fault and how these new people are kinda me in some way. I certainly wouldn''t want to be separated from my family if I suddenly found myself in a different body. So, siblings I guess." He nodded again. "And what does the elder Mr. Fowler and his family believe? Would they be willing to host the new Fowlers and welcome them as members of his family?" "Yes." Uncle Uter said at once. His voice carrying over the courtroom for the first time. Without any hint of hesitation. Mercy let out a sigh of relief. So did the other copies. "Splendid. As it happens, all of your new siblings expressed the desire to be with their family as well, so I''ll make a summary ruling that you all be a family, with respect to you all being considered legal half-siblings. I''ll have the appropriate documents forged and see to it that they be delivered to your home in about a month." He paused to go over his documents. "In addition, I''ll have Cecil Fowler''s considerable liquid assets divided amongst all the copies, so that they at least have some financial independence aside from the support provided by the Robertson estate. I am also putting them all as co-owners of Mr. Fowler''s other, larger property, so that they can also have a place to stay if there are no more rooms in your current lodgings or if the space gets to feel too cramped." He struck his gavel with a generous amount of self-righteousness. Apparently blind to the irony of him, a judge, telling his entire court that he was about to commit identity fraud. No one seemed to care. And so, I ended up walking out of the court with a bunch of documents that apparently held my test results up to that point. Chapter 61: Back To School. "They''re gonna beat the snot out of us." Mike stated as we all walked to the schoolhouse. "They will not." I insisted. "Mainly because they can''t. I''m at the tippy-top of level 2, if Elsie is telling the truth. She would be the only one in our grade who''s strong enough to beat us and even then, she knows I won''t hesitate to pull out the bedbugs if she or the others get any ideas. That''s a losing proposition no matter how you look at it." I paused as Eva let out a gleeful laugh. She was holding hands with Dana and Dorothy as we all moved in a group. Looing up at them with the kind of innocent jubilation that made me miss the good old days. Part of me had been worried about how Eva might take to having six new cousins living in the lower sections of the bunker-basement from now on. Turns out she loved the change and she''d spent the following two days getting acquainted with all of them. All of us. All while they tried really hard to explain why they all knew her without fully delving into the whole evil cloning thing. "Yeah. You''re level 2. Almost 3. But we, the puny little mortals that we are, remain level 1. While everyone else here got to grind out at least one level from your murder-Dungeon." He sucked in a breath. "Also, I''m scared of coach Russell." "Of course you are. So am I. You''d have to be brain-dead to not be scared of coach Russell. I''m pretty sure Mr. Robertson is scared of coach Russell." "Nah man. You don''t get it. Evil Cecil specifically designed me to look like that Mike guy that got killed in Vietnam. I''m the only one who can pass as an adult." "You don''t even look 18." I countered. "Yeah? I was 14 before this whole mess you made and if we''re being technical, I''m still a freaking baby in this body! But that''s not the point. I now have a completely different body because that jerk wanted to mess with coach Russell. I am near-identical to that old buddy of his. And you know what?" "What?" "It worked. Coach Russell lost his mind when he saw me. The dude spent thirty minutes clinging to me and crying. I have no idea what happened to the real Mike in the war, but that guy is fucked up. Like, he needs therapy." I shrugged. "If you''ve got my memories and we''re being honest.... I mean. We knew that since the beginning. It was never a secret or anything." "No man. You don''t understand. This guy was hugging me so tightly I couldn''t breathe. With your blood and brains still on his hands. He had snot running down his face and everything." That did sound dreadful. Yet, what was I supposed to do? What were any of us supposed to do? Coach Russell was Mr. Robertson''s pet monster. Everybody knew as much. My copies especially. As such, he had the strength to match. Part of me wondered what kind of plans the old man had in the background and how many of them took the sheer power of coach Russell for granted. Part of me wondered if the old man had ever spared a thought for what might happen if his favorite dog ripped of his leash. I shook my head to dispel the notion. Shaking like a leaf, despite being largely unaffected by the autumn cold. The trees in Dunstonberry had all reddened in the time I was passed out. Green hues slowly giving way to a beautiful canvas of reddish-orange that fell in accordance to the whims of the chilling winds. The aura of life that had surrounded me back at the farm and in the Dungeon was nowhere to be found here. Instead, I felt a distinct melancholy as my eyes took in the picturesque beauty. All around me, trees were preparing to sleep. Tucking themselves in within the confines of their largely unmoving bodies. In a spiritual sense anyway. "It''s colder this year." Eva muttered. "Mom says its going to snow soon." She turned her head to Dorothy. "How will we get to school if it starts snowing? Dad is busy all the time. So he won''t drive us." "Oh, I''m sure he''ll drive us if we ask." Dorothy answered. "If that doesn''t work, I''m sure I can fly you there. Or I can turn into some kind of horse thing. Shouldn''t be too hard." Eva gasped. "Cecil! Dorothy says she can use the same magic as you!" "That''s amazing Eva!" All of us said in unison.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Then I cursed internally. Realizing that it happened again. "Why do all of you answer when I tell Cecil something?" Eva asked. Not for the first time. "We just want to get in on the fun." Progress explained. "We feel lonely sometimes." I thanked her or him, hard to tell with the memory business, within my own mind and re-focused on the walk. We were approaching the school once more. Just as we had that first week after we arrived. Unlike that time, the door was no longer an impediment. The heavy steel moved as easily as if it were made of light wood and I held it open for the rest of our posse. "Have a great day Eva!" We all called after her. "K bye!" Mercy, Progress, Michael, Patience, Dana and Dorothy waved at her. As did I. Then, we all looked at each other, took a deep breath as one and moved further into the building. Halfway through the hall, we saw another figure passing by. A lithe, handsome young man. One year older than Elsie, with the same auburn hair and deep blue eyes. "Mercy!" He called out. With a smile so bright it outshone the bloody light fixtures. "I''m so happy to see you!" "Hello Oscar." Mercy answered. With all the enthusiasm of someone who got peed on by a skunk. "I have to say Mercy. You are looking positively radiant today. You hair is coming out beautifully." He flashed an impish grin that was eerily similar to that of his sister. "It makes your eyes pop out. You look great." Mercy didn''t say anything. She didn''t have to. If they all had my memories and they all thought they were ostensibly me, then I could very well picture the exact thoughts passing through her head. Something something roadkill something. I tried to give Oscar a warning look. But the man would not pick up the bloody hint. Maybe because he didn''t actually have the [Knowledge] core all the mainline Robertsons had. Meaning he couldn''t read minds to save his life. Or maybe because he had other things on his mind. Indeed, his eyes continued to drift the more he talked. And anyone with eyes of their own could see where his own eyes were going. That is, down. Me and the others exchanged looks of our own. Most of them seeming to blame me or more accurately Pool-Cecil for this debacle. In Oscar Robertson''s defense, he''d been more than civil and actually kind of nice in all our previous meetings, when there had been only one of us. It was just that Pool Cecil had designed his experiments with the mold of honeytraps and... Well. In all honesty, he''d done too good a job. All the female copies looked like something straight out of coach Russell''s raunchiest fantasies. Because they were something out of coach Russell''s raunchiest fantasies. Those babies weren''t just nice to look at. They were miracles. Perfect miracles. Which made it all the more disturbing that a copy of my personality was in that body. Staring at Oscar freaking Robertson''s eyes as his gaze became more and more glued to that area. I got to the point where I, Mike, Progress and Patience started coughing loudly next to him. The man did not notice. ''You can use this.'' The evil voice whispered in my ear. ''My mistake was being too open about my intentions, too quickly. Make another trap and have them lead this fool on. He has his mother''s core, instead of his father''s. He is still respected. He still has influence. Use him to...'' I cut off the flow of magic to the Skill. Down to almost nothing. The rest of them took note and probably figured out what had happened. All except Oscar of course. He was far too busy yapping on while burning a hole through Mercy''s hoodie. "Hey!" She finally snapped at him. "Eyes are up here!" "Wha...?" He looked up. His face a mask of confusion, as if he''d only just broken out of a freaking illusion ninjutsu. "Oh. Yes! Of course! I... I wasn''t looking at them. I was just, admiring your hoodie. It''s very pretty." "As if that would work you stupid moron! You do realize that I have the memories of living as a man for 14 years right? Please tell me you realize this?" "Of course I realize that Mercy! But you''re a girl now and you''re so... so...." He lost his train of thought again. Mumbling incoherently while his eyes one again found the miracles. Mercy punched him. Launching a straight hook that would have made coach Russell weep tears of pride. It didn''t work out as she''d intended. Because Oscar Robertson was level 3 and a peak level 3 at that. While she was level 1. "AAAAH! SONOFABI...!" Progress wrapped a hand around Mercy''s mouth. "Eva''s nearby. I don''t want her hearing this." Mercy mumbled something incoherent and then gave Oscar the finger. And just like that, he was heading in one direction, beet-red in the cheeks, while we moved to our actual classroom. Soon we found ourselves standing outside the dreaded door. Inclining our heads to listen. "I''m telling you guys! Halloween is satanic!" Ramji''s voice called out. "It''s a party for the devil! You''re going to a party for the devil!" "Dude, what are you on right now?" Drew''s voice countered. Seemingly as surprised and befuddled as we were. "Simple. Halloween was originally a party for devil spirits and after a while, people here started celebrating it. It''s a pagan ritual. If you don''t think so, then tell me where in the bible does it say that you dress up as a ghost and the people around you have to give you candy. You can''t. Because its not in the bible. I don''t celebrate Halloween because I''m a good Christian boy. But you all do you if you don''t care about where your souls go." "Are you sure you have a soul though?" Marco asked in a monotone voice. "Maybe all you have is the little ashes where a soul used to be. Maybe Cecil''s roaches took your soul and now you''re going to the bad place after you die." "Could happen." Drew pounced immediately. "You know? You were all clean and righteous before, but now you got roach juice under your skin. Do you think Saint Peter lets people past the pearly gates if they have roach juice under their skin?" "I wouldn''t let you into my house if you had roach juice under your skin." Marco hammered on. "You guys are dicks!" Ramji bellowed. In a way that let me picture his reddening face and wagging finger. I breathed out an internal sigh of relief. If these guys were still playing around like this, then there was a chance everything would be fine. I opened the door, with the rest of the copies standing behind me. Then the whole room was engulfed in one collective gasp. Sharp as a knife, it cut through the voices. Leaving all of us standing out in the open with wide eyes and paralyzed bodies. For the other students, it was because I was there. The guy responsible for all their recent night terrors. For me and the copies it was because of the teachers for the day. One of them was a calm, gentle-looking man with mixed features. His head adorned with slick black hair combed backwards. His angular face bearing sharp features and piercing deep-blue eyes that seemed to shine like sapphires. James Robertson looked immaculate in his suit. His bearing and demeaner making it seem as if he owned the place. Which wasn''t all that far from the truth if you thought about it. In contrast, coach Russell looked like a mix between a rabid animal and a serial killer. His eyes turning bloodshot the second they caught a glimpse of me. One of those eyes, the left one, twitched a couple of times. While the corners of his mouth tried to move in the semblance of a smile. "H, H, Hey. Cecil." He managed between gritted teeth. "So N, N, Nice to see you." He waved to the side. "We have a packed schedule today. Have a seat." Chapter 62: Special Lecture. James Robertson paced around the electronic board in the same manner as a college professor. His deceptively young features twisting into casual smiles as he regarded all of us. The students that were born and raised in Dunstonberry were all paying him a respectable amount of attention. In contrast, the new arrivals from the farm were practically burning holes into him with their stares. Apparently word had gotten out that he was the first-born son and heir of Mr. Robertson, and everyone coming in from a life of near-starvation were more than ready to score brownie points in this brave new world they found themselves in. ''Though I guess that''s the smart thing to do in this situation.'' I mused. ''For someone who just got their core and doesn''t have any kind of special Skills, this must seem like a once in a lifetime opportunity.'' "First of all, allow me to thank each and every one of you for attending this special lecture." He said. Addressing the new arrivals. His words carrying an easy grace and air of authority that made him seem both more authoritative and more approachable at the same time. "I know you have a busy schedule and I know this is a period of great upheaval for all of you. On behalf of all of us here in Dunstonberry and on behalf of all the peoples of the world, we thank you for your hard work and excellent attitude. I promise that each and every one of you will benefit greatly from this lecture, as well as from the connections you may form while studying here with us in the near future." He then proceeded to walk around the classroom. Addressing all the new boys and girls by name in their native language. Now, I had no idea what pitch perfect Korean was supposed to sound like, but given the reactions he got, I was pretty sure he was nailing it. "With that in mind, I propose we begin this session with some introductions. You all have become familiar with our regular students after last week''s exercise on the 9th floor of our local Dungeon, but I don''t believe all of you have had the opportunity to meet our dear Cecil and his siblings." He beckoned towards me. "Cecil, Progress, Mercy, Mike, Dana, Dorothy, Patience. Why don''t you come up to the front and introduce yourselves?" We all froze. Our eyes simultaneously growing bigger, while shifting over to where coach Russell was standing. His mouth said: "Come on up. Don''t be shy." His eyes said: "GRAWGAWAR!! SARGRWAGRR!! SNAAARL!!" "Mike wants to go first." Dana blurted out. Pushing the sacrifice with perhaps a bit too much force. Mike stared back at us with an expression of: "Et tu Brute?" His own eyes betraying the fact that an actual stab wound would have hurt less. And he wasn''t the only one. I and the others were staring back at Dana with mute horror. With Dorothy being the only one who seemed to stay on her side. ''Is that the effect of [Bloodlust]?'' I wondered belatedly. ''Uncle Uter said something about it being a voice that told you to stand up for yourself. But that seems more like psychopathic behavior to me.'' "Splendid." James spoke up with cool confidence. "Why don''t you start us off Mike?" He nodded and moved closer. Making sure to stay as far away from the coach as the space would allow. "Hi, everyone. I''m Mike Fowler. Formerly Cecil Fowler and now a copy of Cecil Fowler that split up about the time I was created. My core is [Doppelganger]. A 7th Stage Core." He paused. "Kind of. I have a single Skill that copies other Skills at 80% efficiency and I have two slots for copied Skills. I can mix and match them, but it''s more or less a gimmick at this point." He looked back to the younger Mr. Robertson for confirmation that he was done and the he scurried back to us as soon as he got it. I decided to take the plunge and go next. "Hi everyone. Uh. I''m Cecil Fowler. Or, Mr. Conan to some of you." The Korean students'' eyes shone with a mix of curiosity and expectation. "My Core is called [Life] and I am level 2. I can shapeshift and create units and make plants grow better." I paused to swallow the lump in my throat. "I can also heal and take over Dungeon floors." I moved back. Dana and Dorothy followed. "Hi. I''m Dana." "And I''m Dorothy." "We think of ourselves as twins." "Even though we are both Cecil Fowler." "It is very weird." "We can do most of what he can do." "But worse. Our core is [Chimera]." "A 4th Stage Core."If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. "Unlike our old 7th Stage Core." "We focus mostly on transforming ourselves." "And that''s about it." They moved back. Mercy went after them. "Hello. I too was previously Cecil. I am now Mercy. My core is [Sanctuary]. A new 7th-Stage Core. I can make zones of safety where nothing can attack me or any of my friends without being walloped first or after. My zones can also heal and make people stronger over time." She went back to our collective spot. Making room for Progress. "Hi everyone. As you can probably guess, I am also Cecil. Or, I was Cecil. Until Cecil, or I, lost our minds and made me. My Core is at the 6th Stage. It is called [Logistics]. A name that I definitely did not pick." She paused to glare at James Robertson. Then she turned right around to glare at me, before taking turns to glare at everybody else. "I picked the name because that is the main crux of what it can do." James offered. Seemingly taking the snarky comment in stride. "It is an amazing Core, with nigh-unlimited potential." "It is a piece of hot wet garbage." Progress countered. "It''s like the [Space] Core. But worse. In just about every way. Despite it being the same Stage. While that Core lets you teleport around and grab things into pocket dimensions and create small rifts in space that slice people in half, my Core lets me tag people with one of the only two Skills I have. Then my other Skill lets both me and them pick up stuff and put them into a shared pocket dimension. Everyone can take stuff out of the shared space and everyone can put stuff in. That''s it. That''s all it can do. I have no offensive abilities whatsoever." She walked back to our spot. Patience took her place at the front immediately after. Looking no more thrilled than she was. "Hi. I''m Patience and I''m in the same boat. Only, I have no Skills on the Analyzer, because the bloody thing can''t even tell what Cores make up my own Core. Apparently the thing is so novel no one has any prior data on it. All it can tell is that I have a 7th Stage core, but aside from that, nothing. It doesn''t even have a name." "Yet." James Robertson cut in. "It doesn''t have a name, yet. That last part is very important." Patience shrugged. "If you say so." Then she went back to our corner. Not caring in the slightest about the stares we were all getting. "Now then, I''m sure you all have some questions about what just happened." The man began again. ''Yeah. No kidding.'' I thought bitterly. ''I know the most out of everyone here and I have the most questions.'' "The main crux of the issue we are faced with is a lack of knowledge. That is perfectly normal. After all, magic is a new shiny toy to us all. Our organization has been experimenting with magic since the early 50s and we still don''t know everything there is to know." He let out a dry self-deprecating chuckle. "Again, that is perfectly normal. If we compare it to other , newer fields of science such as, let us say... Psychology or Anthropology, Magical Studies is very, very new. Those other fields at least have the benefit of a couple of centuries of dedicated research behind them. In contrast, we''ve been looking into magic for less than one century. And we''ve had the proper tools to research magic for less than half of that time." He pulled a remote from his waist and began to bring up slides on the board. The first one showed several graphs with different labels on the X and Y axis. The second showed pictures taken from within my Dungeon. ''My Dungeon!'' Pool Cecil hissed. ''Yeah yeah. Whatever.'' "As such, we will begin today''s special lesson with the few aspects of Magic we do know and then follow up with the research methodology we use to find out more things about Magic. Finally, we will be going over some of the more advanced techniques that older students use to flesh out their Skills and builds." He paused to give us all a wide grin. "Usually, we would leave these techniques aside until you were all 15 or so, since these first years are supposed to be used to gain as many stats and regular Skills as possible. The logic being that those stats and Skills will then serve as a foundation for everything else. That said, most of you regular students have done some remarkable work training yourselves up until now. Almost all of you are level 2 and quite a few are reaching towards level 3 with grasping, greedy fingers. Some adjustments to your tutelage is warranted, given how well you''re all doing." He barked out a quick laugh. Practically oozing charisma and easy charm. "Who knows? Maybe we should incorporate your recent struggles into our regular training regimen. It does seem to have paid significant dividends for you all and every sacrifice you make now will translate into awesome might later on in life." He pointed at the new students. "Isn''t that right kids?" "Yes! Mr. Robertson!" They all said at once. With far too much enthusiasm. It was clear that I had missed a lot of things while I was out. Where the regular students were looking at James Robertson with some reverence, the newer students from North Korea practically worshipped him. Their attention hanging on every word as if their lives depended on it. "Fantastic!" He exclaimed. "Now then, if you''ll please pay attention to these graphs I have on the board. This first one shows Magic levels worldwide per year. Starting at 1967 when we first started measuring them at different spots of the world with any real degree of accuracy. The first thing you''ll notice is that Magic levels increase gradually. The second thing you''ll notice is that the degree by which Magic levels increase also increases with time. That, the increase is not a linear equation." He clicked the remote and brought up another slide. "Neither is it evenly distributed across the world. There are a total of 42 hotspots as of this presentation. Some older than others. They all attract more Magic than the rest and 11 have already formed into Dungeons. With the rest looking more and more like blossoming Dungeons every day that passes." Another click brought up an image of a confused cartoon cat. "But what even is Magic?" He turned to face us all. "Anybody?" I sheepishly raised my hand. "Yes, Cecil." "The power to change the world in a way that doesn''t conform with physics." I tried. "Or regular science in general." I paused to gauge everyone else''s reaction before continuing. "It''s a way to make unnatural things happen through non-scientific means." I tried again. "True and true." Mr. Robertson declared. "Or, rather, half true. That would be an acceptable definition coming from a layman. Someone who enjoyed occultism without actually knowing what Magic is in our world or what its rules are. And there are rules, Cecil. Magic might not be what one might call a hard science yet, but it''ll get there. I promise you that." He gave the remote another click. "In fact, that leads us to a very interesting question. Why call it Magic at all?" I stared at him dumbly. "Because its magical?" Mike offered. "I dunno, it doesn''t seem that complicated to me." "Ah." Mr. Robertson countered. "But therein lies the trick, Mr. Fowler. What we call Magic might see magical and nonsensical to a layman, but we know more than they would. For example, we know that Magic is not some ethereal force. It is a form of energy that moves through wavelengths. Similar to light and sound." He paused to grin at Mike. "Would you consider a radio magical, Mr. Fowler?" "No?" He spoke up. Now looking abashed. "Now now. I''m not trying to ridicule you Mike. I''m only offering a different perspective. The fact is, we still call it Magic because, while it has rules and patterns of behavior, those rules are still too loose and unknown to be classified as a science. Other wise, we might call Magic something like Energy-M. Matter of fact, some of my own children and nephews are adherents to this philosophy. They claim that calling this power Magic is unscientific and that it is merely another kind of energy that has not been properly defined or researched to a satisfactory conclusion." He clicked the remote again. Bringing up more graphs. "In any case, what do we know?" He gave the room another glance. His gaze feeling like probing tentacles. In all honesty, I''d never thought about it much. Magic was magic and it worked because it was magical. How else would someone explain me being able to shapeshift at-will or me being able to grown back limbs in moments? I leaned in closer. Trying to think of what the answer might be. Chapter 63: Observation and Analysis. "Elsie, care to comment?" "Yes professor." She answered. Not calling him grandpa James, as she often did. "We know that Magic is a form of energy that travels through wavelengths, like you said. But we also know that it is nearly undetectable through ordinary measuring devices. Magic does not show up on the visual spectrum as visible light does. Nor can we hear it. Nor can we measure it with tools like Geiger Counters. To all mundane means, it might as well not exist. Unless of course, you are a living being and the concentration is high enough. Even people without Cores can feel it along their skin and spine if they enter into a Dungeon. With all evidence showing it first feels like a series of violent goosebumps. You could also sense it in lower saturations if you have a Core and know how to manipulate your own Magic to feel it, or you have some other kind of enchanted tool." James Robertson nodded along. As did most other students. "And what is the reason we are so hesitant to label it something like Energy-M?" "Because it violates several scientific principles. Including the law of Conservation of Energy and by extension all three laws of Thermodynamics. The law of Conservation of Energy states that the total amount of energy in an isolated system remains constant, and that energy cannot be created or destroyed. It merely changes form." She paused for breath. "This is flagrantly false in the case of Magic. For starters, we have built several perpetual motion machines since the 90s. Meaning we are capable of creating conventional energy through Magic. Not just generating it, as we do for our power plants around the world, but by creating it. As Magic generates more of itself the more there is. Behaving contrary to the conventional logic of other types of energy like electricity, heat or radiation. Magic does not disperse. Or rather, it disperses while still growing in size when it is concentrated at points. Magic radiates wavelengths, but it does so while not having a half-life like some radioactive elements or isotopes. Even extremely toxic substances like Radium eventually lose some of their radiation over hundreds or thousands of years. A source of Magic, like a Core, will only keep gathering more Magic to itself over time as long as it is attached to a living host, or to a sufficiently large source of natural Magic like a Dungeon." She swallowed a lump in her throat. Took a drink from her bottle and continued. "Moreover, Magic can be destroyed. Though again, you do need Magic in order to do it and it is far harder than creating it. In fact, Magic making more Magic seems to be its natural state. However, several problems arise when we consider Magic and the history of the earth. Firstly, Magic has never existed until now, as there is no evidence of residual Magic anywhere in the fossil record. This might be an issue of us not having the right tools or the right way to measure these traces, but as things stand, Magic is a brand new addition. Another problem arises when one notice Magic''s need for life in general. As Magic cannot be found on the moon nor anywhere else in space. This has led our main researchers to theorize that planets and bodies without life cannot have Magic. As Magic seems intrinsically attracted to Life." She gave me the briefest of glances. "In a way, Magic almost behaves like a living thing itself. Like an organism made up of living energy. Only, it doesn''t feed on living things as a parasite would. Instead, it seems to act as a booster for whatever living things it comes into contact with." She paused again. "So long as they have a Core. Living beings that cannot adapt fast enough experience sudden mutations and tumors. Similar to those caused by radiation poisoning. Though there is no evidence that a larger force of Magic is feeding on these cases as a living being would." ''Well isn''t that a terrifying prospect.'' I thought to myself. ''The idea of a massive, world-spanning organism that functions based on energy wavelengths seems like something I should have been made aware of earlier. Its enough to give a man nightmares for the rest of his life.'' "Magic can also be used to create new matter from nothing. Where Magic is used up as fuel for the creation process. But one''s Core is always generating Magic. So the creation ends up costing nothing. Furthermore, Magic can result in the spontaneous creation of new life in places of high Magic density like Dungeons. Where host creatures simply burst out of the nearby stone and soil fully formed and already possessing some intrinsic awareness of themselves and of Magic in general." ''Huh.'' Pool-Cecil whispered. ''Now that she mentions it, it is weird how that happens.'' ''You didn''t realize it was weird before!?'' ''Of course not child. Magic is made of Magic. It doesn''t need to be a complicated issue. It is a strength like muscles or brains or bone. Thinking of these nonsensical aspects never helped me advance. Though I do admit I see the interest now.'' Pool-Cecil purred. ''I could do much, if I had this research on hand.'' Elsie continued talking. Unaware of who was listening. "Magic continues to function even when the host itself is starving or dying of thirst of sleep-deprived. These adverse conditions impact the rate at which Magic is generated, but it cannot be said that Magic leeches off materials like digested calories or water in order to sustain itself. Neither does it rely on replenishment from Ambient Magic in the atmosphere or down in Dungeons. A Core will generally continue to emit Magic at varying paces until the host creature dies and then for some time after too. Depending on the level of the host creature, a Core can continue to give off Magic for as long as 19 years. Or maybe longer, with Cores we haven''t experimented with." I nodded at her explanation. Then I made a mental note to purposely avoid looking more into the deeper science of Magic until I was level 4 or something. After all, the last thing I or anyone else needed was a Pool-Cecil who was even more competent. "Excellent summary." James Robertson declared. "In conclusion, Magic is called Magic because it has rules that fly in the face of everything we know about the universe. In fact, it has rules that fly in the face of everything we know about Magic." Some people laughed. I wasn''t among them. "Tell me, where does Magic come from?" A boy I didn''t know raised his hand, before being selected and answering. "The Ambient Magic levels are rising." "Yes. We know that. But why are they rising? One of the few hard facts we know is that Magic always seeks to spread. To make more of itself through any means necessary. So where are the levels of Ambient Magic coming from?" He clicked the remote again and brought up three distinct images. "There are three leading theories at the moment. Number one is the Cycle Theory. This one states that Magic has been on earth before and that some of our own ancestors might once have been Dungeon monsters. It is a way of explaining certain mass extinctions in a different light. This theory gained some traction during my father''s original outings, but it has fallen out of favor in this timeline due to our own continuing efforts. As I previously said, there are no traces of Magic on any fossil we have ever dug up or gotten our grubby little hands on. So if there was Magic in previous eras, it was such a small amount that it cannot be traced today. And it certainly wouldn''t have been enough to create Dungeons or monsters." He pointed to the second image. "The next theory is called the Bomb Theory. This one states that the detonation of the first nuclear weapons created a sort-of feedback loop that made Magic much more prominent as an energy. It has no evidence backing it, save for the fact that Magic first began to appear during the year of 1946. Awfully close to the destruction of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. However, as I said, the only evidence backing up this so-called theory is the timing."You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. He pointed to the third image. "This last one is the most widely accepted these days. The Asteroid Theory essentially states that, since Magic at the individual level is always spreading from a source, like a Core, then the same must be true of all other hotspots around the world on a macro-scale. That is, there must be massive, living Cores under the places where Dungeons are being created. And it is from these places that Magic propagates around the world." He clicked the emote again. "Some might think that these Dungeon Cores cannot be the source of the Magic and that they are instead a symptom and they might think this because these Cores are buried deep, deep beneath the earth. Far deeper than the most advanced man-made drill has ever gotten. However, something to keep in mind is that these Cores warp the space around them, so that they essentially dig deeper and deeper into the earth, until they start creating entire floors from scratch and thus catapulting themselves ever deeper into the bedrock. Something we were able to witness first-hand with this new Dungeon." He pointed at me next. "Also, this new Dungeon has not stopped growing, even after coming under the sway of Mr. Fowler here. It is still nowhere near as deep or deadly as our own Dungeon here in Dunstonberrry, but its getting there awfully quickly. Digging itself deeper and deeper with every breath we take. From this, we can extrapolate that Cores could have dug themselves as deep as they are, even if they originally landed as asteroids back in the day." He gave us all another warm smile. "Though granted, this is all just a theory at this point. We are currently experimenting with the Core Cecil dominated and a few others we dug up before they matured in order to find out the truth. Alas, science is a slow and rigorous process that takes many generations to complete. While I may not see these questions answered, I can at least pass along knowledge to my children and grandchildren, in hopes that they might one day know the truth." He then descended into a bout of silence. Gauging our reactions. Someone clapped. Then another. Then another. And soon, the entire room erupted in clapping. I had to give it to him. He was a good public speaker, if nothing else. Though I did find it funny that the guy who might as well be immortal was lecturing kids about leaving hopes and dreams for the next generation. "And with that, we end that particular section and move on from theories to experiments." He said with an almost childish amount of glee. "So, how do we do it? How do we go about the process of figuring out which Skill does what and what the limits and potential applications of each Core are?" He waved to the screen. "The first and most used method is simply observation, coupled with trial and error. This is how my father did things in the original timeline and how humanity came to gather most of the knowledge he caried over to the past. By this method, you would get a researcher, preferably two or three, and you would have them monitor the effects of a Core''s magic on the world around them. Do this enough times and you reach the conclusion that some Cores encompass several other Cores in terms of functionality, whereas some Cores combine different effects into a few, stronger effects. Moreover, these more complex Cores typically have much more of an impact on their bearer''s physical abilities than simpler Cores. We figured this out because people with more complex Cores could routinely outperform people with simpler Cores in tests of physical prowess, once all Skills were confirmed to be turned off. That, and people with simpler Cores tended to be bottlenecked at certain levels of power, while those with more complex Cores kept advancing, albeit more slowly the more they improved until they reached a new threshold of explosive growth." The next slide showed a graph, with a bunch of lines stacked atop each other in the beginning, that quickly separated and increased at different levels later on. "As you can see, Cores also affect how many stats one can gain per level. Meaning that those with more complex Cores could be seen as carrying an intrinsic physical advantage. However, this advantage becomes less pronounced the more one climbs through the Stages. A 6th Stage Core is not all that different from a 7th Stage Core. Same with a 5th Stage Core and a 6th Stage Core. Only when you start to compare differences of 2 Stages or greater do you see significant deviations." He clicked the remote and brought up the next slide. "In contrast, the difference between a basic 1st Stage Core and a 2nd Stage Core is remarkable. The former may be bottlenecked at level 2, if they get to level 2 at all. With level 3 being the highest level ever recorded for a 1st Stage Core. And that was a very talented outlier. Also, that individual isn''t alive yet in this timeline, so we can''t even confirm the case." He clicked on the remote once more. Bringing up a slide showing four different blasts of fire. "As you can clearly see, what might me a gout of flame similar to a welding torch at level 1 could very well turn into a flamethrower at level 2 or to the equivalent of a housefire at level 3. We can apply this pattern of growth to all Cores, regardless of their particular effects, so we can infer that one''s total Magical Output increases according to one''s training, Core complexity and level." He paced about. Glancing at the new arrivals from the farm. "Through observation, we can see what magic does and what kind of magic each Core carries. Thereby naming automated Magical Phenomena as Skills and assigning a rough numerical estimate on each aspect of physical enhancement as Level-Body Statistics. By creating monitoring equipment and attuning them to what we refer to as Standardized Magical Signatures, we can infer how many Level-Body Statistics a person has on each of their parameters. Similarly, by programing these tools with a certain degree of pattern recognition, we can create software and hardware that automatically catalogs Skills as they appear by picking up on the patterns of energy spikes within a person''s body. It is a fairly simple, if time consuming process." He raised a pointed finger. "But what are we to do when trying to figure out why magic works the way it does? Hmn? How do we go about defining it? Defining its limits? Separating it from natural phenomena we might not understand yet? After all, it is magic. Who''s to say there isn''t one or more Cores out there that can completely break the rules? Who''s to say there isn''t some way to circumvent the limits we''ve observed? How do we figure out what causes magic to surge and what causes it to ebb? How do we go about testing its true limits? Or, how would we go about researching it when observation is not an option, as with Patience''s case?" He waited for a response. "Cecil. Any ideas?" ''Birth experiments and force them to experience different stimuli while they are weak. Keep the successes, re-absorb the failures and try again.'' Evil-Cecil whispered. Once again proving that he was indeed the literal worst. ''You think that, but I got more results in a few days than these fools did in decades. Something to keep in mind.'' "Well..." Mike started. Blissfully ignorant of what Pool-Cecil was saying. "I guess it depends on how magic reacts. We could try to see how it affects compounds. Like in Chemistry. Maybe magic reacts a certain way with different chemicals or electricity?" James Robertson turned to him. "Insightful, but no. Also, I was asking Cecil." "Yeah. That''s why I..." Mike groaned. "Look, until recently, I was Cecil okay? It''s hard." The teacher paused, hesitating. Then he nodded. "Duly noted. My mistake for being insensitive." He turned to me. "Original Cecil then." I tightened the grip on my magic and squeezed out the evil voice. Focusing on the question. "I guess we could see if magic reacts to anything while it isn''t being used? Like, we know it affects plants and crop yields and we know Ambient Magic mutates living beings in general. Maybe Magic attuned to different Cores has faint effects on living beings even when not being used?" "Good guess. But no. Ambient Magic levels are more akin to background radiation than anything else. Yes, they affect living beings and Dungeon formation and the appearance of mutated and spawned monsters, but Magic that comes from attuned Cores generally can''t mutate plants or animals without killing and absorbing each other through levelling. Unless of course, it is used in a Skill or Spell formation that specifically allows for such a thing to happen. Like yours." He gave me an encouraging smile. "Try again." I rubbed my head. Trying to recall coach Russell''s lessons. And trying to avoid making eye contact with him while I did so. "I guess you could measure the effects of enchanted items? There are a few Cores that can make semi-permanent changes on non-living things. That''s part of how the Analyzers are made." "You''re on the right track. We can indeed make magical items and then test them against different kinds of cores. But that only works if the items react to the core''s unique Magical Signature. Try again." I frowned. Trying to consider another way. "I... maybe the person could try different things until... oh! Free-Form magic!" I exclaimed. "They could try Free-From magic to shape their own unique magic into patterns that worked for other people. That way, there''s a chance their body might learn to activate it by instinct and form a Skill. Or the new exercise could have a novel effect. If enough people have the same limits, then you''ve learned something new and if enough people advance in the same way, then you also learn something new." "Excellent deduction Cecil." The man spoke up. Now addressing the rest of the room. "While this may still qualify as a form of observation, we think of Free-Form Magic as something more akin to actively tinkering with this new form of energy. We can infer new things through what we call Free-Form magic. That is, the application of spell formations that worked for one Core now used for all other Cores or the new applications of magic in unintuitive ways to see what works and what doesn''t. Most times it doesn''t do anything. But sometimes, sometimes, we can learn that certain wavelengths, actions and re-actions are universal across Cores. And that leads us to observe monsters and even Dungeons more closely. Which leads us to forming hypotheses with more and more evidence backing them up. Leading us to learn hard rules about how magic operates." He turned back to the screen. Clicking the remote again. "And it is this topic that so interests us today." Chapter 64: Free-Form Magic. The class was abuzz with an excitement that was hard to describe. All could feel it, despite no one saying a word. James Robertson simply had that kind of air about him. That unspoken authority that made all kinds of people gravitate towards him. "To start, let us perform an experiment of our own." The man began. "I will release some of my own Magic and allow it to pass over you. That is, I will spread it around the room without actually activating any Skills." He waited until everyone had more or less settled down again. "It, like most kinds of Free-Form Magic, is a technique all of you can learn, so long as you have the stats and the time to master it. This particular one is called Presence. Please experience it to the fullest extent." He said it as if we''d be experiencing a stiff breeze or a radiant summer morning. Then he let loose a trickle of Magic. I felt it pass out of his pores without forming into any kind of distinctive pattern. Yet when it passed over me, it felt like a punch. ''No! Not like a punch! It''s like I''m being crushed! Like there''s a hand on top of me pressing down!'' I put both hands on the desk. Struggling to breathe. ''This is crazy! He''s just as crazy as his old man! I have to do something! If I''m struggling like this, then the others are.. Huh?'' The others were completely fine. Despite all of them being weaker than me. In fact, Mercy and Patience were even starting to show some concern. "Hey, Original, are you okay?" I wanted to say no, but then the pressure redoubled. Taking what little air I still had out of my lungs, before the pressure eased and vanished altogether. "Now, some of you might have felt some small level of discomfort." The bastard said casually. "Others may have felt nothing but a small tugging from all directions. This is fine. This is normal. This is the effect of my Magic. On foreign Magic, being used on you without any specific Skill or spell activation." He actually stopped to give another lighthearted smile. "In other words, what you felt was the sheer weight of my own raw Magic. The fuel for all my spells and Skills, when it was not being used to power any spells or Skills. I caught hold of it through my own Core and then I expanded its reach beyond that of my skin, until it reached every corner of the classroom." He looked about the space again. "If you''re confused, think of it like moving a muscle you hadn''t realized you had. The amount is based on your Endurance stat, while the stopping power is based on Potency and the degree of skill that you have to wield it is based on Precision. Those of you currently in level 1 will not be able to do much with this kind of practice. In fact, there is a good chance you won''t have the Precision to generate this kind of fine control at all at this level. That''s part of why these lessons aren''t given to you young ones under regular circumstances. There is little benefit to you learning about them and your time is better spent working out or hunting in the Dungeon." He snickered. "But those of you on level 2 or higher may be able to appreciate that I was able to completely suppress you without lifting a finger or indeed, using any kind of real Magic at all. Meaning you are not hurt and I don''t have to spend any of my own Magic, but you still feel hurt. You still feel like you definitely shouldn''t mess with me." He raised a finger. "Can anyone tell me how this could be useful?" "It''s a new kind of attack you can use, even if your Core isn''t meant for attacking!" Tracy shouted. "Close. But not quite Tracy. Also, please raise your hand next time." The boy shriveled. "You could use it for attacking." James Robertson conceded. "But that is a poor use of resources if I''ve ever seen one. If there''s a monster in front of you, then you should either kill it outright if it is weaker or run if it is stronger. There''s no need to impress it with the size of your..." He stopped long enough to make sure everyone got the joke. "Magic." Not everyone snickered, but a lot of people did. "No. The real uses are both practical and experimental. First off, it can allow someone of higher level, or someone with a significant advantage in stats, to overpower someone weaker without killing them or risking major bodily harm. For your information, being adept at this technique is a requirement for joining the local police department." He raised a finger at the board. "More importantly, it allows us to see how my own Magic behaves after it leaves my body. In a way we couldn''t see when this Magic is bound to specific Skills. Notice how it swirls around me when I let it go. Notice how it wasn''t actually spent, but merely stretched out. Notice how it returns to me as soon as I let go. Almost as if it was bound by a gravity only my body could emit."This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. I did observe and I did note how he was right. The faint traces were flowing back to him. Little by little. "This experimentation with our own Magic can lead us to see additional effects at higher levels, meaning we get a verifiable way to see how each new level affects the qualitative effects of Core-attuned Magic. For example, someone with a [Sun] might se their own Magic turn visible and glow in the air when they use Presence. At level 3 or higher, this glow will go from that of a lightbulb, into one of a lighthouse beacon. While also causing additional effects like setting fires spontaneously. Since we can measure the size of the area each person can cover via Presence and see the effects each Presence has, we can learn much and more about individual variations between Cores." He stopped to glance at his watch, before turning back to the screen and clicking the remote again. "Finally, techniques like Presence allows us to get a better feel for our own Magic. By itself, it is an excellent way to squeeze in a few more points in Precision. Though this kind of practice also tends to be rewarded with new and innovative Skills." He then turned back to us, a brilliant smile on his face. "Please see the images and graphs on the board. Note how they all relate to someone with a common Stage 2 [Lake] Core. Now note how far each individual got in terms of levels and Skills. Do you see anything odd?" Tracy raised his hand. "Yes, Tracy. Please answer." "They all have the same base Skills, but one of them has a lot more Skills the others don''t." Tracy said hesitantly. "That, and one of them has much higher stats, despite being the same level." "Precisely." James Robertson swooped. "All of us, everyone here, has things that come naturally to them. Skills that come from instinct and the general feel for Magic you get through the connection to your Core. But you shouldn''t think that this is in any way a limiter. Magic can be freely manipulated to a point. We have not yet found a way to sterilize it of each person''s individual attunement, but each person can wield their own Magic to a degree and each person can use their own attunement in new and innovative ways to develop new Skills. Some of which may be so good that they elevate a Core far beyond its already existing status. This lady...." He pointed at the picture in question. "Was my first wife. And though she''s no longer with us, I constantly use her as an example that one can succeed, no matter what their Core is. She had found a way to generate water inside the lungs of monsters through the repeated use of her Presence. She did this by extending her own Magic as far as she could, running by monsters and then using the regular Skill she had for creating water while her Presence overlapped the bodies of monsters. In time, this went from a deadly gimmick, to something she could call on command. A genuine Skill had formed from all her years of practice and she used it to humble people who thought they were better than her all the time. So keep this lesson in mind. Hard work, dedication and ingenuity will always pay off." He clapped his hands together. "And now, I will lead all of you on a little fieldtrip to our very own resident Dungeon. So that all of you can have a chance to learn this technique for yourselves." He turned to the newer students. "Those of you who can''t yet grasp your own Magic to this degree, you''ll be accompanied by our resident coach Homer through a higher floor, so that you can have a chance to familiarize yourself with the setting and train up those stats." The cheers that erupted were almost deafening. Clearly, the presentation had done its job in sparking another wave of enthusiasm among the recent arrivals. "As for our regulars, you''ll be travelling with me and coach Russell here for protection." Coach Russell looked at us. Or more specifically at me. Giving me the kind of grin John Wayne Gacy gave his houseguests after they''d had too much to drink. ''Now there''s a riddle.'' I thought to myself. ''Coach Russell is here to protect us from the monsters, but who''d gonna be here to protect us from coach Russell?''
The descent to the 10th floor of the Dunstonberry Dungeon was a largely uneventful affair. All the new Skills and levels my classmates had gotten back in my Dungeon had paid dividends. Especially now that they were fighting a bunch of drooling animals in different natural biomes, rather than the entrenched denizens that I had left in their path last month. Say what you want about Pool-Cecil''s methods. He deserved all of the criticism and more. But no one could deny that throwing themselves against fortified positions while being shot at had done a number on each person''s attitude and overall competency. My own team of Ramji, Drew and Marcos could more or less handle the 4th floor back then when I was with them during the summer. Now, any one of them could blaze their way through the 8th floor monsters without breaking a sweat. Indeed, I could make out several more people who were now ripping and blasting their way through all resistance with glee. The chance to let loose on monsters who couldn''t shoot back being too good to pass up. I did try contributing every now and then. Growing a Bio-Rifle from my right arm or else [Spawning] some basic Riflelings. Nothing too major. Yet the people around me reacted as though I''d pulled up my shirt to reveal dozens upon dozens of sticks of dynamite. Literally throwing themselves to the side and screaming bloody murder every time I tried to help. It was upsetting at first. Then annoying. Then infuriating. "Oh come on!" I shouted as we trudged through the 10th floor. "Julian is level freaking 3! He should not be scared of a few Riflelings! He can probably kill them by farting in their general direction!" Elsie shrugged. "Probably. But that isn''t the point. You kind of scarred him for life. What with you shooting a parasitic worm into his intestines." "That wasn''t me." I countered. "True. But that''s not how he sees it Cecil. I know I joke around, but he really is having recurring nightmares. A lot of us are." ''Weak.'' Pool-Cecil hissed. ''Pathetic worms scrambling and wriggling at my feet. At our feet. Imagine having so many opportunities since birth and still being a measly level 3. Disgusting. Oh what I could have done with such advantages. What we could have accomplished with just another month, another week in my Dungeon.'' I cringed, but kept walking. I closed my eyes. Trying to grasp the Magic in my Core and moving it about without activating a Skill. It turned out that it was a very similar process to when I threw around Magic for the farm and I felt the blades of red grass beneath my feet eagerly drinking up the Magic, even when I tried to keep it steady. "Huh. I can''t keep a field of Magic up without living things trying to get at it." I complained. "Oh no!" Elsie exclaimed with faux-horror. "You''re telling me that Cecil the genius has things he cannot do on the first try! The horror! Imagine what little Eva will say when he comes back home!" "Haha. Very funny." "It really is." She agreed. Switching gears on a dime. "Granma took years to get her particular Skill to work like a Skill Cecil. You didn''t even know about Presence or the other techniques of Free-Form Magic until today. Take a deep breath, let it go and keep on trying. Grandpa James was right that hard work always pays off in some form or another. The harder you work now, the faster you''ll get the hang of it." I didn''t say anything else, but nodded regardless. Noting how genuinely helpful and nice she was being. Chapter 65: To Kill a Mocking Gnome. My friends had gone their own way after a while. Taking coach Russell with them as they sauntered off to a distant cluster of thin trees. Ones whose bark resembled candy-canes for some reason. Coach Russell seemed to be in high spirits. But only if you didn''t pay close attention. His eyelids and the corners of his mouth were still twitching every now and then. In a way that betrayed the poorly-concealed fury he was just barely keeping under wraps. "Come on guys!" He said a bit too loudly. "The gnomes are just up ahead! We''ll have a blast hunting them down! I''ll show you all a trick to catch them out in the open. I swear it''ll change your life." I''d nodded in silence upon hearing that and then I immediately made my way in the opposite direction. All by my lonesome. I kept using Presence to train up my Precision and my control over Free-Form Magic the whole way. Still feeling a small amount of dissatisfaction over how easily the grasses and roots and shrubbery beneath my feet were swallowing chunks of the immaterial cloud. In theory, the exercise should have come as second nature. Given how much and how often I''d spread around my own Magic when using [Terraform] and [Spawn] on the farms. I had figured the cloud of Magic would have some other effect on the lifeforms down here, now that I wasn''t direction it at anything in an active manner. In practice, it felt like using [Over-Mind] to pass orders to units that weren''t there. Not only did I feel silly doing it, but the Magic itself felt as though it was turning its non-existent head in confusion whenever bits of it got back to me. As if it was saying something along the lines of, "Are you sure you know what you''re doing boss? This doesn''t seem to be the way things work. Did you hit your head?" And to make matters worse, keeping the field in one piece was a challenge in and of itself. While Mr. James Robertson, coach Russell or indeed, Elsie, could keep their Magic floating around them like a semi-invisible dome, my magic kept acting up. Like a hyperactive dog when they heard the door open or a toddler stomping around in the mud. The field would not sit still for one measly moment no matter how hard I tried and the outer edges either dispersed into the air or were swallowed up in chunks by all the foliage I was stepping over. It served to make the grass greener, but I could have done that with [Terraform] so even that wasn''t anything new. After a while, the only thing that made the interesting was the ambiance. The 10th floor was rather nice compared to all the previous biomes we''d trudged through. If the 6th floor of the Dunstonberry Dungeon could be classified as a fetid swamp, then the 10th floor could best be described as a swamp from German fairytales. Still fetid, but colorful and whimsical on top of that. The giant mushrooms here were almost as tall as the oak trees back on the farm. Massive in height and width, while sill being dwarfed by the sequoias that came after. All of them were topped by bright red caps crisscrossed with polka-dots the size of human heads and all of them let out a pleasant, relaxing aroma that only became more alluring the closer one got. The smell was so nice that it almost made me forget about the small mountains of polished white skulls that decorated the base of the mushrooms. Almost. As things stood, I felt it prudent to send a bunch of sacrifi... scouts. To see what the big deal was. The Venomlings approached without issue. And then... Nothing happened. They roamed about the base of the mushrooms for a few minutes. Sniffing the air for a bit and not really doing much of anything. I used some Magic to enter their minds and ordered them to start slashing the soft trunks of the giant mushrooms. Green ooze came out from the wounds, releasing even more pleasant and relaxing smells. But nothing further happened. So, I ordered my Venomlings to bring me some of the ooze and [Assimilated] the sample. The result was me feeling a bit dizzy for a few seconds, but nothing apart from that. The ooze wasn''t toxic, as far as I could tell. Nor was it acidic or filled with parasites or with viruses. "Whatcha doing?" Elsie asked from the side. Appearing as if from nowhere. "Oh. Nothing. I was just trying to see what made the mushrooms so dangerous." I pointed to the piles of skulls and the many, many scattered bones underneath. Some of which had been crushed and spread around the roots. "I can''t seem to figure out how all those bones are getting there. At first I thought the mushrooms must have some kind of lure they use to hunt, but none of my units were targeted. I don''t know who or what is doing all the killing." "Oh. That''s easy." She giggled. "It''s the seniors." "The seniors?" I blinked in confusion. "Yep. Our dear upperclassmen. They kill monsters all around the place and leave them to rot around the Sky Shrooms so they keep growing." I blinked again. "Why would they...?" "Because then they can harvest more of the sap more frequently." She answered. Giving me a look filled to bursting with hidden meanings. "They aren''t supposed to. Technically, no one is supposed to be out here harvesting the sap. No one but the doctors and the pharmacists that is. The former can use it as a base to make high-level anesthetics when combined with other reagents. The latter can use it as a salve to cure certain diseases and curses. Or for relaxing perfumes to help people deal with trauma. Or for aphrodisiacs. The odor makes people get all nice and happy and fuzzy inside." She paused to glance over at some of our peers as they tried to approach another mushroom out in the distance. Looking guilty as sin as they did so.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. "All forms of the sap are very addicting. To some degree. Until you reach level 4. Then you need stronger stuff or else you won''t feel anything." She gave me the same look she gave the other students. "Strictly speaking, you''re supposed to get a prescription for the finished product and touching the sap down here is a big no-no." She sighed dramatically. "But you know how some people are. There''s not much to do around these parts aside from training and some people get stressed every now and then. Regular booze doesn''t really do the trick with us folks at higher levels. Even if the seniors could get their grubby mitts on some bottles. So, they improvise." I turned to the disgusting, thick sap. Then back to her. "So, they...." "Make Shroomshine. Yes. That''s exactly what they do." She shrugged her narrow shoulders. "It takes a bit of boiling and a lot of distilled water from what I''ve heard, but making the stuff is pretty easy. If you''ve got the time and a discreet spot to make it. That''s why they call these Sky Shrooms. Because they take you sky-high with just a sip." She gave the ooze a narrow look. "I wouldn''t try it. If I were you. You''ve got enough problems as it is. And I''m not joking about it being a big no-no. You could get fined a lot of money. Like, A LOT of money. And spend some weeks cleaning up garbage and working the compost station to boot. They put you on a watchlist if they catch you doing it more than once and the guards here are really, REALLY good at finding small hidey-holes in the middle of the forest. You certainly wouldn''t stand a chance." I opened my mouth. Then closed it again. "What, uh. What should I do if I''ve already absorbed some?" She gave me a stern look. "Through your Magic?" "Yes?" "Are you feeling the effects?" "No." I shook my head. "I wouldn''t even have known about the effects if you didn''t tell me." She nodded. "Then I suggest you keep it to yourself. And don''t even think about growing more mushrooms or making Shroomshine with your Magic." She wagged a stern finger at me. "I''m completely serious when I say this is a problem. Grandpa James is always going on about it. And Great Grandpa Carlyle too." "Yeah. I''ll bet. A bunch of superhumans high on shrooms doesn''t exactly sound like a fun time for me either." She sighed in faux-relief. Theatrically rubbing he corner of her right eye. "Thank goodness. My boyfriend isn''t turning to substances in his time of need." Then she gave me the most sarcastic smile I had ever seen up to that point. "Don''t worry Cecil. I''m sure our love will prevail." I was just about to tell her something very witty and sarcastic, when Pool-Cecil stated whispering again. ''You know. This is an avenue I did not consider. One of domination through guile, rather than merely brute force. Quite foolish of me, in hindsight. We could strengthen the substance for more acute effects. Perhaps even hard code a similar reaction into the produce we grow outside my... our Dungeon. I''ll bet we could make a pretty penny. While also making sure those nations that rely on the farms to offset their inadequacies can''t switch to a new supplier. Who knows? Perhaps we might even see normal-looking apples traded for hundreds of dollars. Or more. It would only take one taste, if we get the chemical balance right. Perhaps even these seniors might be persuaded with....'' "AAAAAAAHHH!!!!! SHUT UP! HOLY COW! THAT IS THE SINGLE MOST EVIL THING I HAVE EVER....!!!" "Cecil?" Elsie interrupted. Now looking serious. "Are you okay?" I gaped at her once my repulsion was interrupted. Then I gaped at all the dozens of students watching us from afar. They were gathered in groups of two or three. Eyes wide with surprise. With apprehension. With barely suppressed terror. "Is there a problem Cecil?" The elder Robertson asked calmy. His slick black hair not moving as he landed after a stunning leap. "No Mr. Robertson." I said at once. "Just my new Skill acting up. That''s all." He gave me an understanding smile and then turned to the others. "Okay. Nothing to see here folks. Cecil''s got everything under control. He just needs some space to breathe." He made a fist and brought it over an open palm. "I know. How about you and Elsie go gnome hunting for a while." He beamed. "It is a great load of fun. Trust me. Whenever I''m feeling down, coming down here to gut some gnomes always puts a smile back on my face." He must have seen the expression on my face, because he continued. "Don''t knock it till you try it. It really is catharsis like you''ve never felt before." "O...kay? I mean, I get that they''re monsters but why would gnomes be any different from the others?" Everyone around me laughed. And I really did mean everyone. The tension dissipating as if it were a distant dream. "Hahaha! Aaaah." James Robertson stopped after a few seconds. "Gnomes are... different. They''re mildly telepathic. Normal monsters will usually try to kill you or main you or generally take a chunk out of you. Gnomes can...." He paused to lick his lips. "Hurt you in other ways." He gave me a stare full of meaning. Though I couldn''t guess what the meaning was. "I saw Pool-Cecil''s memories and I know he tuned most of it out, so this will technically be your first encounter. I say it''s good to come across different kinds of monsters and get a feel for how they operate. None of them will even come close to the kind of combined arms warfare you dreamed up. But some of them can still surprise you." I nodded slowly and took it as my cue to leave in the direction he''d indicated. Elsie tagging along close behind. "What was that about?" I asked in a hushed tone. "Everything my grandpa told you is correct." She affirmed. "You''ll see. It really is cathartic. Like watching a horror movie where the slasher gets their comeuppance. Or one where the brain-dead teens get what was coming to them for being so dumb." "You''re not making any sense." "Not right now. But you''ll see. You just have to experience it yourself." She reached out and grabbed my hand. "Just know that whatever happens, you''ll feel better at the end. And I''ll be here to support you until you get there." I gave her a doubtful look, but said nothing. A few more minutes of light jogging, by superhuman standards, saw us coming across a wide empty clearing. Where a few pointy red hats were sticking out of the tall green grass. One by one, those hats rose up. Revealing chubby, rosy cheeks adorned with lustrous white beards. "Are they wearing clothes?" "Yep." Elsie confirmed. "They have their own little society between the 10th and 25th floors. With a bit of industry and everything. They always spawn in with some knowledge, so they always build back up no matter how many times we kill them." "Why would you want to kill them? I mean, compared to normal monsters they seem pretty harmless. And your grandpa said they won''t try to attack either." "No." Elsie corrected. "That''s not what my grandpa said. He said they can hurt you in other ways." "Yeah, but I don''t get what that mean..." "Well lookie here boys!" One of the gnomes spoke up in an old timey British accent. "If it isn''t Cecil, friendless, Fowler! In the flesh!" "Isn''t he the one who got his parents killed because he wanted to go to the zoo?" Another one asked. Loudly. "Yes! That''s him! His parents got squished by a drunk driver because he wanted to go to the zoo! If he hadn''t thrown a fit, then they''d still be alive!" "An idiot AND an orphan! What a combination!" The gnome laughed. All the gnomes laughed. "Hey! Hey! What''s the difference between an orphan like Cecil and an apple?" "I dunno. What?" "Apples get picked!" "HAHAHAHA!" "HAHAHAHA!" "HAHAHAHA!" All the gnomes were getting out of the grass now. Slapping their knees as if that was the funniest thing they''d ever heard. "Hey! Why is Cecil not funny?" "Why?" "Because every joke he tells falls flat! Like his parents!" "HAHAHAHA!" "HAHAHAHA!" "HAHAHAHA!" One of the gnomes actually fell on his side and stated rolling as he laughed. "Hey! What does Cecil call selfies?" "What?" "A family photo!" "HAHAHAHA!" "HAHAHAHA!" "HAHAHAHA!" Another one fell on his back. Gasping for air. "Hey, hey! Why are sad wittle orphans like Cecil bad at poker?" "I dunno, why?" "Because they don''t know what a full house is!" "HAHAHAHA!" "HAHAHAHA!" "HAHAHAHA!" They all started pointing as they laughed. "Hey! What''s the difference between outlaws and orphans?" "What is it?" "At least outlaws are wanted!" "HAHAHAHA!" "HAHAHAHA!" "HAHAHAHA!" One of them wet their pants. "I got another one! How you make Cecil''s hands bleed?" "How?" "You ask him to clap until his parents come home!" "HAHAHAHA!" "HAHAHAHA!" "HAHAHAHA!" The ones on the ground began beating the soft dirt with their little fists. "Okay, okay. I got one. Why does Cecil like to sit alone in the corner?" "Oh! Oh! I know! Because he wanted some family time!" They all laughed again. And then they kept laughing and laughing and laughing..... "Oh! Look! He''s crying!" The tallest gnome huddled over to me. Jabbing me in the thigh with his skinny gnome arm. "What, you don''t like jokes orphan boy? What are you gonna do, huh? Who are you gonna tell? Your parents?" They all laughed. "So? What are you gonna do about it huh? What are you gonna dooooooo?" Chapter 66: A Merging. "Calm down Cecil." Elsie whispered beside me. Her voice barely coming through over the gnome''s laughter. "Remember that this is training." ''Make sure you take them alive.'' Pool-Cecil whispered as well. His voice coming in as half a hiss from the other ear. ''Death is not the worst thing a living being can experience. It is a mercy to be granted upon the end of one''s service.'' I could almost feel the touch of a slithery tongue on my cheek as he kept going. ''We still have a little bit more work to do in order to reach level 3. Give me Magic. Not too much. Not enough to take complete control. Just enough for me to connect to this floor and to the flora within it. Let me birth an army for you. While you call all the shots. Let me grow you a Pool, while you strengthen yourself. If she asks you for something, give it to her. Indulge her whims and placate her with platitudes and empty promises. Let her think she has you under her thumb, while you grow stronger.'' Elsie jabbed my side. "I don''t have to read your mind to see what''s happening Cecil." She muttered. "It''s fine. Give the voice a little bit of leeway. Not enough to take over, obviously. But just enough so that you can get some practice in. It''ll be better in the long run and you''ll be able to rein the other guy in whenever you''re really about to lose control." ''See?'' The voice spoke again. ''Even she agrees. Perhaps she is not so foolish after all. Do as she says, Child. Only a little bit. Only an inch.'' I did as they bade me. Letting a steady stream of Magic flow through the Skill. And then, I felt it. The world became dimmer and less pronounced while my body felt more real. More alive than ever before. I lifted my hand. Quick as a snake. And grabbed the closest gnome by the throat. Then I squeezed. His tiny clawed fingers scratching at my chest, arm and eyes in a futile attempt to break my grip. He did some damage, but I could feel the healing kick in automatically. That, and I could feel that my body wasn''t in any danger. I felt... free. In control of myself to the point where the body I''d always had felt like an illusion. The gnome''s face responded for him, while his mouth let out half-strangled chortles. His cheeks turning a deep and garish purple as his hands slowed. I squeezed tighter. Just a little bit tighter and... CRACK! The arms went limp. Small droplets of my blood still falling from the thing''s little clawed fingers. Then I saw the gnome''s body start to sink into my own fingers. As [Assimilate] kicked in. "Okay." Elsie continued. "Now you''re going to try moving while using the Skill. Don''t make any minions yet. Try and see if anything changes in the way you attack and in the way you move. Try and see if there are things make your control slip." ''What? No. Don''t listen to her. Start making units and.... actually, do listen to her. Appear as though you can be controlled.'' I didn''t know about that. About whether or not I could be controlled. I certainly felt in control. More so in fact. I felt as though each and every heartbeat and minute exertions carried the entire weight of my purpose. I was measuring out each and every breath before it came and this was not wrong in the slightest. I was me. But I knew just how foreign that acceptance really was. How odd it felt to be so self-assured and so lacking in concerns. Regardless, Elsie was right. I needed to test this out. So, I turned to the closest gnome. The one who had been the slowest after they''d started running. I lowered my body in the same manner as a big cat preparing to pounce and then kicked off the earth with both feet. Lunging forwards like an arrow. Splitting the air before me until I''d crossed half the distance. For the other half, I lifted my arm. Figuring I could [Transform] it and then use it to strike down the gnome in that same instant. I''d intended to simply turn it into a Bio-rifle, but the ideas flooded in as soon as I thought of it. My fingers aching with unrealized potential and the efficiency to bring the changes forth with unheard of precision. The digits turned into bony protrusions. Each one exploding forwards and growing more and more bony sections in the moments between heartbeat. Slitting and splintering like pale white branches in the dead of winter.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. One of those branches caught the gnome in the left shoulder. Others caught him at his hip or in his right leg. I make those branches into hooks and reined in the catch. The gnome kicked and screamed the whole way back. Spending his last two seconds screeching bloody murder at the compatriots who had gotten away. "Don''t you worry." I told it in a deadpan voice. "In a way, you are lucky. I will be a bit clumsy when I start with you. The others will get to meet a me that is far more experienced. They will live longer, and for that, they will be more unfortunate." My eyes bore into his. Until his face went from fury to surprised terror. Then my fingers went into his chest. And the changes started to take hold. Time seemed to become blurry and confused as I focused. My mind now feeling connected to the body of the gnome as if it were my own. ''Now there''s a new sensation.'' I thought to myself. ''I''m using [Transform], but on a monster. I used it on my units and on Cupcake before that, but I never recall focusing on that during combat before. It was always growing bone blades or Bio-rifles after that. Why didn''t I ever think to run up to monsters and [Transform] them into being weaker?'' ''Inefficient.'' Pool Cecil spoke. I think. It was hard to tell his voice apart from mine now. ''Any scenario where that was even remotely necessary was a scenario that we had no business fighting in. Better to send tens of thousands of units to their deaths than to risk our own person. It is their purpose. The only reason they were born. They won''t mind.'' Well that was true enough at least. Still, I kept applying magic. Turning his stumpy fingers and his stubby little toes into small snakes that bit into his hands and feet. I then followed up by making this nerves thicker, making him more sensitive so that he could feel the pain more acutely. ''Wait, is this wrong?'' "It probably is." Elsie spoke from the side. I turned my head to her. "I wasn''t even reading your mind. You''ve been mumbling to yourself." Yeah. Now that she mentioned it, I had been mumbling to myself. And to the gnome. "Now, I haven''t knocked you out because you still seem more or less in control. If you lose it, it''s lights out for today." She lifted a finger. "I will absolutely stun-lock you into oblivion with psychic blasts the second you try something funny. I''ll stun lock you until Nerfect Chell''s ordeal in that anime starts to look like a minor inconvenience." She widened her stance. Puffed up her chest. Sharpened her glare. "Stand up and let the gnome go." I did so. Dropping the weeping, pulsing, ugly thing. "Okay. Now, answer me honestly. At what point did you stop being aware of the other voice as a separate being?" "I... no. He''s still a separate..." Then I stopped. Because I could not feel the other Cecil''s voice in the back of my mind. Elsie''s eyes went from me, to the gnome. "Since when have you been able to use [Transform] on other things beside your units?" "I don''t know. When I first saved Cupcake?" Elsie whistled. "We''re gonna have to change that on your Status then. [Transform] definitely doesn''t do that." I nodded slowly. "Take a deep breath." She said helpfully. "Hold it in for a few seconds. Try to go for a minute. Let the breath sit still and then let it go slowly." I did as I was told. Now feeling myself more clearly. "There, see?" She said with a newly creeping smile. "You were absolutely furious and you were out for blood and you still kept yourself in check. That and this was only your first time." She nodded to herself with a proud, satisfied face. "Imagine how better at this you''ll get after a few hours of trying! And you can keep practicing with Presence as you go!" "Yeah." I said. My chest heaving as the sense of complete control and confidence receded. "I guess I do need some practice." We moved together after that. Hunting more gnomes as a pair . I confirmed that I was faster when I was running the Skill. That, and the fact that Pool-Cecil provided a large boost to the speed at which I used my other Skills. He was just better than me and he always put 100% of himself to whatever he was doing at any given time. Allowing that purpose to become his only focus. I was learning to snap out of the trance after a few more hours. Though I still hadn''t made any progress with Presence and Free-Form Magic. "I don''t want to stop." I said out of the blue. "I bet." Elsie answered in a deadpan voice. "I wouldn''t want to stop if I was also on a roll. But you''ve done enough for today. At the very least, we''ve confirmed that the Skill can be controlled." "Yeah. Right." We returned after the allotted time had passed and then we made our way towards Mr. Robertson and Coach Russell. "Okay. That will be it for today. You children will be getting to the business of regular classes again tomorrow. No homework, but do try to think on the things you have gained so far. And the progress there is left to do. No amount of effort will never be enough if you want to be the best version of you that you can be. It takes sacrifice and dedication. Maybe you would rather sleep in and watch television or maybe you would rather go for a horse ride or maybe you would rather play some games and be with your friends. It''s okay to feel that way. It is perfectly normal. But you will have to give some things up if you want to giver training your all. Remember that every point and every fraction counts towards something greater." He gave us all a warm smile and a wave. "Prepare to ascend." I made my way back to the surface with the rest of the group. Finding my clones among the crowd. "Hey guys. How was the training with coach Homer?" "Better than the day we met, but not by much." Mike retorted. Fingers creasing his brow. "Dude. My new Core fucking sucks. I take back all the things I didn''t like about the Robertsons and having to be their farmer and help in their schemes. If I ever find myself against a real monster, I''ll get ground into dust." "It probably isn''t that bad." I told him. "Worst case scenario, you can take some of mine or Patience''s Skills. I can''t imagine you''d go wrong with that." Mike scowled. "Yeah. I guess you''re right. It''s just... damn man. Went through all of that once just to have it all stripped away. This sucks." I could see that. "Once we get back, we can go start a farm near the mansion. Our mansion. We''ll get some more work in and get you some more stats." "Yeah." Another deep sigh escaped. Then Mike sighed even deeper and retained that glumness all the way back to the surface. "Hey Cecil. Do you have a moment?" Elsie called out from behind me. "No. Sorry. I''m going to help Mike today. And the others, if they want to come along." "But you''re heading to great grandpa Carlyle''s little bribe right? Great." She said through an impish smile. "That''s great, because as it happens, I got you all a gift I think you''ll like." Chapter 67: Pravda and Kobe. Pravda wasn''t the loveliest little thing that I had ever laid eyes on, but she sure came close. Everything about her was perfect. From her oinki little nose to her fair pink skin. To her beautiful eyes and her heart-melting voice. Yes indeed. I was more of a dog person myself, but I could still recognize that the piglet was nothing short of adorable. I turned her around with delicate fingers and rubbed her belly one more. Relishing the happy cries. Her little legs flailed around with simple child-like joy. Even as her tail wagged so ferociously that I feared it might snap off and shoot up into the stratosphere. "Oh dear lord." I said. "Being this cute should be illegal." "I know right?" Elsie exclaimed from the side. A beaming smile on her face. "Honestly, I''m glad you liked them. Coach Russell seemed a bit worried when you got all upset over Cupcake. Back when she was an actual, literal man-eating timber wolf. But my big bro said it was probably because you were the kind of guy who liked animals to begin with. And that you''d be upset even without accounting for magic." She tickled Pravda''s side. Eliciting another round of happy squeals from the piglet. "Yeah. I always wanted to be a zookeeper when I was a kid. My dream was to work with elephants. I used to sit by the TV all the time and watch documentaries of them walking around the savannah and being all calm around people. That, or documentaries of them in zoos or parks playing with people. I always saw that and I went all giddy. It was this... I don''t know. This excitement. Because they weren''t just big, but smart and kind and genuinely empathetic. They form real family bonds you know. Like humans do. They grieve for the ones they lose and they come together to care for babies. You know they can do art?" "Yes Cecil. I know they can do art." "And not only that. They can solve complex puzzles too. They''re just, so amazing." Mercy nodded from the side. "Yeah. I have all those memories too. I also seem to recall mom and dad encouraging us to study hard if we wanted to be zookeepers." Mike also nodded. Albeit more slowly. "I also definitely recall uncle Uter sitting us down and asking us to study supply-chain management like he did." "Oh yeah." I said. Suddenly recalling the incident. "He said that all zookeepers did was clean up animal poo. And for pennies on top of that. He also harped on some Glassdoor reviews about zookeepers losing fingers to meercats." "It''s apparently something that happens with alarming frequency." Patience told Elsie. "Uncle Uter felt like we should at least study something more respectable." I laughed. Recalling more of the conversation. "And then! When I still wouldn''t change my mind, he showed me a bunch of videos of zookeepers having to give all kinds of medical treatments to elephants. Including an enema." "That video gave me nightmares for weeks." Progress declared. I felt my smile growing wider. "Those were some good memories." "It sounds like it." Elsie spoke softly. "It must be a special memory, for you to get this excited." I turned a worried gaze to the calf then. Wondering if the noise would wake her up. I needn''t have bothered. Kobe was sleeping soundly in the bigger living room adjacent to the door. Happily snoozing away the minutes while curled up in that doggie-bed Elsie got for her. Looking at them both made my heart melt. Almost as if the primordial power of good were pushing back against Pool-Cecil within my chest. "Oh dear lord. I feel so happy right now." I said. Clutching Pravda closer to my chest. "I just feel so happy and fulfilled when I hug her and she lets out those happy cries." Elsie nodded sagely. "One of those things you won''t get in the city. Ya only get to hug and play with cute baby animals out here in the country." She booped Pravda''s nose. "That, and I heard animal therapy is really effective when people have a lot of stuff on their mind. So, keep Pravda and Kobe here with you. I already asked your uncle and he said you can''t bring more animals to your other house, but this is your mansion so what you say goes." She tilted her head towards me. "I figured you needed this. A break. Something nice and fun to remind you of all the reasons why life is worth living." She slapped herself on the forehead. "I mean, of course life is worth living, but I find that sometimes I can get so busy training that I forget to let in a little me time. A few moments where I can just let go, you know? I figured... since you''ve been so glum... that I could help you with that. So? What do you say?" "I finally understand why Jan Mick killed all those people. If anything happened to Pravda or Kobe, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself." Elsie seemed amused by that answer.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Mike, on the other hand, did not seem amused. Neither did Patience or Progress or the two D''s or Mercy for that matter. Indeed, they were starting to give Pravda and Kobe suspicious looks. "So? They can stay here in your house?" "Of course they can!" I said with gusto. "Of course they can''t!" Mike said. With a remarkable degree of courage for someone standing in the same room as me. "This is OUR house now. Not your house. OUR house. I have all the memories of us doing farm work and covert domestic terrorism for the old man! I remember Alaska! And I assure you sir, I am not going to give up on my share of the bribe! No sir! I live here now! Just like you do. My name is even on the deed after the whole court thingy. I don''t want farm animals pooping all over the nice floors and stinking up the carpets! We all have to live here you know! Or, we''ll all have to, after uncle Uter kicks us out on account of us being clones! What? Did you think we didn''t notice the odd looks? We''ll be out on our butts after we turn 18 and I don''t fancy having to redo all the flooring cause it''s got all kinds of... animal smells!" "Oh come on man! You''re a clone of me!" I protested. "Are you really telling me you''re turning down pets? After all the time we spent wanting some?" "We do still have Cupcake." Progress reminded me. "Sometimes, when I think about the Dungeon and the Queen and the Pool and I start to break down, I go over to Cupcake and hug her tightly. Then I have myself a little cry and then I feel better." "Me too." Said Patience. "Me three." Said Mercy. The two D''s didn''t say anything, but their thoughts were practically plastered on their faces. "This is just like that!" I snapped. "Only better! Because we have more cute animals to hug when we feel down! We don''t even have to share!" Then, when that didn''t have the desired effect, I brought up Pravda and turned her around so that she faced Mike. "Are you going to deny her a home? Really? What kind of psycho would do that? I know coach Russell''s a bastard, but even he wouldn''t..." "No. No he would." Elsie cut in. "He''s a big fan of veal. He''s actually the one who named Kobe. After Kobe beef. He REALLY likes Korean BBQ. If I hadn''t adopted her as a gift to you then... well." I gagged. Suddenly feeling like someone had punched me in the liver. ''Hey Other-me?'' ''Yes?'' ''I take back everything I said. Let''s kill Russell.'' ''Excellent! We can start by gaining some advantages in order to make up for the shortfall in levels. Start by kidnapping the gloomy man''s children and forcing him to teleport us back to our Dungeon. Then we can begin grinding levels again and building up a bigger, more menacing army! I suggest we continue experimenting until we find a way to give Saboteurs [Space] Cores. We can then have a few suicide bombers teleport in while he''s with his children. Even if the first volley doesn''t kill him, he''ll be too grief stricken to dogged the follow-ups!'' ''Well never fucking mind I guess. Holy shit.'' I turned my attention back to Mike. I gave him a look. Not THE look. Just A look. Making no efforts to hide the thoughts running through my head. The clone leapt back as if I''d pressed a hot iron to his privates. So did everyone else besides Elsie. "Ya know... Mike. You''re talking an awful lot of smack for someone standing in Ovipositor range. In fact, I''d even go so far as to say that you sound positively..." I licked my lips. Loudly. "Gnomish." Mike looked confused. Apparently not fully comprehending the many layers of the threat. Elsie hit me upside the head. Not too strongly, but just enough that it hurt. "None of that dear." She wagged a finger at me. "Your new siblings are right. In this at least. This mansion doesn''t belong only to you and we have to be considerate of roommates." She took my hands in hers. "That said. I didn''t come with just these two cuties. I''ve got a fence and all the parts necessary for a small pen right there in the back of my truck." "You have a truck?" Patience asked. "Well, no. Oscar has a truck. I just borrowed it." "Isn''t Oscar 15?" "Yes." "So, isn''t it illegal for either of you to drive?" Elsie shrugged her shoulders. "No one''s asked me for my license if that''s what you''re getting to." I raised my hands to put a stop to the bickering. "Okay. Enough. Forget the fence. I''ll grow these two cuties the best home they could ever hope for and I''ll do it within the grounds, but away from the mansion proper." I turned to the clones. "Would that be acceptable?" "I guess." Mercy groaned. "Though I do find it disturbing how quickly Elsie won you over with a couple of animals." "They''re friends! Not animals!" I cut in. "Why would they not be friends if they''re friend shaped?" Mercy opened her mouth. Though no words came out. "It''s okay Cecil." Elsie cooed. "Let them say what they want. Come on. Let''s build a home for your new friends." We went outside as one. My happiness meter filled to bursting as I called on my Magic. I sent a massive torrent into the earth and [Spawned] in a flurry of trees. Ripping off the growing stalks from my skin and planting each of them in a square pattern. Then I flooded them with more Magic. Using [Transform] on all of them at once. Ordering them to grow intertwining branches that went up and around each other like strings of yarn on a blanket. Then I thickened the logs and thickened the branches. Until the end result looked like an old-timey frontier log house made up of still-living vegetation. "Right then." I turned to the others. "Let''s get to putting the finishing touches!" Mike expression, or lack thereof, spoke volumes. Despite him staying deathly quiet. "Uh, what finishing touches?" "You know! A fence on the outside of the mini-barn and a couple of planks here and there to top off the insulation. We wouldn''t want them to get cold in the winter now would we?" "Why don''t you grow a fence yourself?" Progress asked pointedly. "Seems to me that you voluntold us to start working on the barn, only for our... your Magic to do it all in a couple of minutes." She took another second to glance up and down at the structure. "Pretty sure this is way bigger and way nicer than what Elsie had in mind too. You could just order the roots to tie themselves together and make a pretty solid floor that way. With the kind of control you have right now, you could also level out the roots until they made a perfectly even floor. I just don''t see any reason why we should have to get involved in the slightest." Elsie took a gander at her brother''s truck and groaned. "Yeah. Yeah they have a point. I keep forgetting how versatile that freaking Core is. No wonder grandpa''s so eager to marry you off." She sighed. "Still. I brought you a cute little piglet and an adorable little calf and they managed to cheer you up. I think that counts for something. So, I''m going to take my shot." She turned towards me so that her eyes were facing mine directly. "I know who you are, Cecil. I know exactly what makes you tick and yeah, while I do like messing with you, I also really like you." She put up a hand to forestall me. "I also know that the first impression I made wasn''t very good. I''m sorry about that. I''m not asking you to forget it. I''m mature enough to admit when I''ve made a mistake. I''m also not asking you to marry me this instant or anything. All I ask is that you put up with me for one more day after this." She raised a lone finger. "If I can''t convince you to date me after one day together, I''ll drop things. I promise I''ll stop bothering you and I''ll stop coming over. I''ll also promise to get my family off your back, at least as far as this thing goes." She sauntered closer then. Ignoring the stares from all my clones. "So, is one day okay with you?" I blinked at her. Not really looking at her per se. But rather at Pravda. Squealing happily in her arms. That''s when it hit me. ''Holy cow. It just hit me. A girl got me a baby pig as a pet. Because she likes me. And I''m still hesitant because she made fun of me months ago.'' I blinked again. ''Am I stupid?'' I was starting to look like a very distinct possibility. But that didn''t mean that I was ready to date her. Mostly due to her family. More specifically old Robertson. ''Then again, should I really keep fighting? After all I''ve seen? After uncle Uter told me I was helping?'' I drew in a deep breath. "Okay." I said. "One day." Chapter 68: Just The Two of Us. Passing by the upper floors again confirmed some of my suspicions. The monsters, at least those with some degree of intelligence, took one look at us and ran in the opposite direction. So much so that we were able to descend up to the 8th floor without being bothered. Just as when we descended in a group during yesterday''s class. Even after the 8th floor, most of the monsters we were coming across seemed really hesitant to pick a fight. Looking at us in the same way a normal animal might look at a human-sized honey badger. I still fought with everything I had. Lunging over and over and elongating my arms into clawed limbs that whipped around like serpents. The monsters would be impaled and then we would move on. But I wasn''t feeling any kind of feedback from my kills. These fights were so easy that I wasn''t getting anything out of it. I ended up speeding up the process by forming a repeating Bio-Rifle on my right arm and just blasting away. That saved us a lot of time, even with Elsie doing next to nothing herself. "Are you sure it''s okay for us to skip class?" I asked as we reached the stairs leading to the 10th. "A-okay! I got permission directly from Mr. Burrows and the rest of our teachers. Today is a mental-health day for you to relax and enjoy some private training." Elsie answered. "I thought the whole point of today was going to be you taking me to do something fun." I remarked half-heartedly. "Well duh! That''s why we''re down here in the Dungeon and not up there on the surface throwing axes at a target or tipping moose over." She bit back. Her steps carrying a certain rush of energy. A certain liveliness that made her seem as if she were dancing on air every time she took a step. She turned around suddenly and her index finger was wagging in front of me before I could react. "Come now Cecil. Don''t play coy with me. You might hate what Pool-Cecil did. You might hate the way other people look at you now. You might even hate the things he whispers in your ear from time to time. But you can''t tell me you hate the power he gave you." She went all, tut-tut. Clicking her tongue once and twice. "Anyone with eyes could see that you were desperate for stats back when you were level 1. And that you were working yourself to the bone trying to get them. That dedication is actually one of the things I like the most about you." She gave me an impish grin. "It reminds me of myself." "Yeah?" "Oh yeah. And you''ll see it too once you drop the skepticism and actually try to look at things from my point of view. Imagine a little girl. A smaller, cuter version of me. Let''s say she was 8. Same age as your cousin. Now imagine her being level 1, as most 8-year-olds are. And imagine that she is surrounded on all sides by people who have built up their whole personality, their whole self-image, on the notion that the world as we know it today will end. And that it will end someday soon. That there is no way to stop it and that everyone who can''t take care of themselves might as well shower in condiments when the time comes. Because anyone who can''t fight may as well be chow for the monsters." Her tone grew more somber as we descended. "Now imagine that little girl doesn''t have to worry about herself, as all the other little girls do. But that she is also being told, taught, that she has more potential than any of her peers because she has a better Core. That it is her responsibility to get stronger and stronger. Faster than anyone else. Because she has to set an example for the others. That she has to be a leader because she was built better than the rest. That she has to be a champion because she had all the advantages from the beginning. Much more so than the others." The impish grin was still there on her face, but it felt off now. More false and hollow than before. Like a diamond that had lost its luster. "This girl doesn''t cry or whine or complain. She runs when she is told to run and she studies when she is told to study. She gets smart because it is expected of her. She gets strong because it is expected of her. Because her older brother is such a genius at such a young age and her mom and dad are all very strong, very important people and her grandad is the heir apparent and her great-grandad is the one who thought up the plan. The one who went out of his way to have children this time around." "This time?" I asked. Seeing where this was going. "Yep. This time. Old Carlyle Robertson didn''t marry the love of his life or have children the first time around. A squad of Japanese soldiers gunned her and a bunch of other resistance members down. It didn''t happen in this timeline and great-grandpa made sure to make the most of it."The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. She turned around as she danced down the stairs. Now whistling a cheery tune. "You might even say that me and all my other family members in this timeline were bred for the express purpose of being a force to be reckoned with. To have kids and to make sure those children then had more children with the right people." "That... sounds awful." I managed after a minute. "I don''t even know what to say. I''m sorry you had to go through that." "Oh don''t be!" Elsie waved me off. "I''m not bitter or anything. You''re taking this the wrong way." She was nodding now, as if to re-assure herself. "I have never complained and the people around me have never been anything but nice and supportive the whole way through. I have no doubt in my mind that my entire family loves me and I have never felt anything but love from them. In the wider context of the world, I would even go so far as to say that I was blessed. I have never been neglected or abused. I have never wanted for anything and I have never felt anything close to a lack of love and support. Most people can''t say that, Cecil. Most people have not had it as good as me. That''s a fact. I have never felt the need to push myself too hard past my limits. In fact, I''ve been told to slow down my training on more than one occasion!" She leapt into the air. Just for the fun of it. Landing with catlike grace with her eyes facing me. "I have never had a problem living up to expectations Cecil. Not once. On the contrary. I relish being asked to train. I love working hard and knowing that I''m ahead of the curve. I love being told that I''m doing a good job and I love the feeling that my family are proud of me. I love the approval. The praise. I can''t get enough of it." "Yeah. I can tell." I said offhandedly. Before I cringed at my own callousness. "Sorry. That... that was insensitive of me." "No. Don''t be sorry Cecil. That''s an honest opinion. Never be ashamed of those. I sure aren''t. And speaking of honest opinions, you know what really grinds my gears? What really sets my teeth on edge like nothing else?" "Slackers." I said at once. Realizing that she was trying to draw on similarities between us. "Exactly! On point! Slackers." She said the word as if it were a slur. The N word with a hard, HARD R at the end. "I hate looking around me and seeing people who aren''t just content with meeting the minimum expectations, but actually falling short of those expectations. I despise seeing people who were born with Magic, one of the very few who had the luxury of being born with a half-decent Core from the get-go, and seeing them piss the opportunities away doing something stupid like drinking mushroom wine or chasing down mundane wolves around the forest for cheap thrills. They sit on the couch and they put on a movie and they relax. Letting their guard down when they are still weaker than the average Dungeon monster. When anything from below the 20th floor could snap them up in half a heartbeat." She waved over at herself. "Even me! As strong as I am, would have a hard time with monsters from that floor if I was alone. Granted, my Core isn''t geared towards fighting, but that''s beside the point. There is a bare minimum amount of effort and most of the bozos in this town are simply not up to par. There are people out there that you haven''t met. In other outposts. People who have all the drive in the world but can''t improve because of how they were born. How their parents trained." Her hands clenched into fists. "I have friends I grew up with. People I''ve known my whole life, that don''t deserve the chances they''ve been given. And I have met people these past few years that deserve all the chances and more! But they can''t have them because of factors outside their control! I see that and I want to push myself even harder. To really earn everything I was given for free. To really be the one who can protect them when the time comes. I have seen inside your mind more than once. I know that''s how you feel about your family. I know you wanted to be strong, not for you, but for them." She gave me a ferocious smile. The kind that I had only seen on Mr. Robertson the elder or coach Russel up to that point. "You might think that I hold some kind of grudge towards you for all those war-crimes back in the other Dungeon. You''d be dead wrong. Yeah, I was upset at being shot at. Who wouldn''t be? But more than that, I was glad that the idiots around me, all those snooty upperclassmen who didn''t feel the proper amount of shame at being a lower level than me at 14, finally got what was coming to them. Your stunt was a wake-up call. And it sure did the trick. Everyone knew back then, that you let us leave because you didn''t want to kill us. Everyone realized that the Other-Cecil could have butchered us without much effort. For the first time, the seniors are working as hard as they should be, because they know what it''s like to be powerless. Because they know you, at 14, could kill them all within a single afternoon. And they know there won''t be a damn thing they can do about it until they get down to the ground and train properly." She stopped for breath and I only then realized she hadn''t inhaled a single time during her rant. "I thought about doing something similar on more than one occasion you know. But I always knew that if I did it, everyone else would have chalked up the loss to me being the great-granddaughter of the mighty Carlyle. They would have dodged all accountability by patting themselves on the back and reasoning that it couldn''t be helped because I probably had way more resources and training than they did." She spat to the side. "And now they see you a newcomer, beat the living snot out of them. And they can''t run away anymore." She seemed more content once the words left her mouth. "Words really cannot express how thankful I am, Cecil. Nor how much I notice and appreciate the work you put in." She lunged. Quick as the wind. Moving like an arrow cleaving through the air until she was mere inches away from me. "Which is why I''m not going to use words. Not this time. I''ll let my feelings do the talking." "What do you...?" She took my hand in hers. "Open your mind to me, Cecil. You''ve shown me what you can do, so let me show you what I can do. You can make up your mind after that." I hesitated, but grudgingly let her in. Feeling some measure of relief as Pool-Cecil cried out in pain, then pleasure. As he ad I melted into something else. Something greater. The world grew fuzzy then, and the walls containing the physical world receded, while our minds were opened up to different dimensions outside of time and space. I tried to speak, but my voice came out all wrong. Too high-pitched and... Oh. That''s Elsie''s voice. "No Cecil. It''s our voice." "Right. Our voice." I... we... said. "I can''t tell where I end, and where you begin." We said. "It isn''t too hard, once you get the hang of it." We said in response. Chapter 69: Just We, Who Are One. "Whoa." We said again. "This is, so trippy. I feel a different kind of Magic inside of me. I feel so, connected. With you." "I know right?" We answered. "Bet you [Over-Mind] isn''t anything like it." We looked down on our fingers and saw masculine and feminine ones. We looked into each other''s eyes and our gaze went downwards and upwards at the same time. We took a step forwards and then a step backwards. Marveling at how our perceptions shifted. "Or is it familiar to you?" "I think this the weirdest thing I have ever experienced." We said. "Is it now?" We asked. "How does it compare to when you were connected to the Dungeon floors? Or to your units?" "That was different." We answered. "Back then we... I, was connected to the walls and the floor and the ceiling and all my units, but there was space between us. There was a point where I ended and they began. Like, I was a central command post in the shape of a person and they were a bunch of drones I could make and then command. I could tell when they were feeling pain and I could tell they suffered as they died, but they did not have a sense of self. Nor a sense of self-preservation. Whereas Pool-Cecil still looked out for himself. I felt a backlash, but I did not directly feel the pain. This is... I feel everything you feel. I can''t tell where I end and you begin. Like there is no I or you. But only us." "That is a very apt way to put it." We chuckled. "Why don''t we try to bring up a few units from the soil before we get to the 12th?" "So we can see how the connectivity affects them." We nodded. "And so we can try to experiment a bit more with [Dungeoneer]. We know the connection will improve our Magic. We know it will improve the effects of our Skills. We feel the extra Magic flowing through from the other body. The level 3 body." We clenched our hands into fists. "It feels intoxicating." "I thought it might." We tittered. Reveling in the reaction. "Well? What are we waiting for?" We nodded and sent Magic to the Skills. Activating [Spawn] and [Terraform] and [Over-Mind] and [Dungeoneer] all at once and reveling in the euphoria that followed. The rush was nothing like before and the components that made up our new form grew in number. We could feel the breaths of the new Saboteurs and the Swarm Harpies. We could feel the saliva within the mouths of the Swarmlings and the beating hearts of the Cannonlings. We could feel everything so much more clearly. We could feel the rush of unprecedented power. "Forward." We spoke at once. Though in truth, it was unnecessary. We did not need to give commands because there was nothing outside of us. Of course we knew that we had to advance. What else would we do? Shots rang out in short order. Our mind reeling with the feeling of propulsion as Burrower Roaches found their targets. Each Roach was much stronger, due to the influx of high-level Magic. Even to the point where they could [Transform] their victims from the inside out as the Saboteur''s Parasitic Worms were known to do. Turning organs into slurry while insectile legs and mandibles kept squirming and gnawing at the tender flesh. Each Roach now lived a few seconds longer too, which made the agony of their targets that much more profound. "We''ve been talking to dad about that Skill." We said casually. "It most definitely isn''t the usual [Transform] that we''re used to here in town. We might as well take this chance to explore more of what it can do so that dad and grandpa James can come up with a name." "Sounds good." We answered back. The male body shivering from the feedback of all those sensations. All those raw impressions coming through from the flesh and the living dirt beneath our feet. "I have an idea." We spoke up after a few minutes. "I know. You want us to use [Seeker-Mind] again. You feel as though we''ll be able to control it better." "And why not?" We asked. "We are much stronger and much more focused. Not just two minds now, but dozens and dozens. Pool-Cecil is strong and smart and scary, but Pool-Cecil is alone. In fact, why don''t we get ourselves some more insurance by creating some Masterminds? Really growing some brains to outclass whatever Pool-Cecil might be able to do?" "Excellent idea." We said. Already on it. We felt the change at once. Pool-Cecil had been connected to the Masterminds and he had benefited from the additional processing power when he needed to alter his tactics and battle plans on the fly. But he had never been able o exploit their own tactical acumen. Instead relying on them as relays. He''d needed to grow more and more brain-matter within himself to keep up with the demands of being the sole true voice of the horde. We had no such issue. We flooded the Masterminds with Magic and they in turn flooded us and all the other parts of us with ideas and enlightenment. "It''s about time we grew a Spawning Pool." We said. "The monster bodies are piling up and I''m not feeling any kind of advancement from the battle. We could use the improved digestion if we want to make the most of these fights." "No." We argued with sudden understanding. "Right." We agreed. "These ones are not worth the effort. Let''s keep going." And so we descended. Half a hundred bodies growing to a solid hundred and from there to two and three hundred. We moved as one. Each new creature as another limb, rather than an individual unit. It meant we felt their pain more acutely, but it also meant each one enhanced our understanding of our own Cores. Our own Magics.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it "So this is [Blended Consciousness]." We said in awe. "It is incredible." "It is." We allowed. Then we knew what the feminine body could do and we felt the astonishment. "We can share Skills." We said as the other body began creating their own units. "Of course we can." We answered with smug satisfaction. " We are one, after all." Then we started recalling some of Pool-Cecil''s memories. Those relating to the time the children attempted to overtake the defenses on the upper floors and the time they were beaten back by the units Pool-Cecil had commanded. "You were holding back." We stated. Not doubting the truth of it for a moment. "Of course we were." We chuckled. "It would have been too easy to break through otherwise. How else were the others going to learn their lesson about slacking off if they simply broke through your lines? Why on earth would we waste that kind of golden opportunity?" "You are surprisingly cruel." "Fancy talk coming from you." We tittered. Our grin spreading across our faces. "But enough of that. It''s been an entire floor already and we see that we have a pretty good handle on things. We don''t we bring Pool Cecil out to play?" We did so. ''Finally! Let''s take over this Dungeon as well and begin our conq...'' Pool Cecil let out a noise. Not dissimilar to the kind of sounds a strangled chicken might make. ''STOP!'' The strange screeched. "No." We rebutted. "You will join us." Pool Cecil tried to fight back. From within all our bodies now. But he was alone and we were many. He was level 2 and we were a slightly weakened level 3. The smaller body flooding us with potent Magic. Feeding more of it into the collective. At the same, the other bodies we had [Spawned] piled on. Our thoughts hammering down on the influence and holding down the more undesirable parts. We succeeded and we gained the proficiency that [Seeker-Mind] brought along. The process of [Spawning] units was enhanced and streamlined. As was the process of using [Over-Mind] to coordinate with all the units we had created from the soil. The odd mixtures of plant-matter and flesh moving with flawless efficiency. Each and every eye instantly informing the collective of all that it saw and each and every brain working in tandem to formulate an appropriate response. "This is too easy." We said. With some amount of frustration. "We are so much stronger than we were back at the other Dungeon. We could get so much more done." "Be patient." We reminded ourselves. "This body is still getting used to your Skills. Try using mine if you really want to try something new." We did so. Even better, all of our units started doing so as well. Each Saboteur and Harpy adding psychic blasts to their usual repertoire. Each Venomling stunning its target before the scything claws made contact. Each Sniperling reading their target''s mind and knowing exactly where they would move before the muscles carried out the motion. Yet the most notable change came from the Masterminds. They knew, so much. All I had to do was insert a small stream of Magic and they would catch glimpses. Disjointed glimpses that were halfway there to being maddening visions, but the added brain matter allowed us to sort through some of them all the same. "We can see the future." We asserted. "Snippets here and there." We corrected. "And it isn''t necessarily the future. Some of it is in the past. Most of it is in the present. Think of it more like a glitchy search engine, rather than some kind of true precognition. It gets more accurate the more I level and it lets me see all sorts of juicy tidbits." "We could use this to cheat on tests." I accused. "We could. But there is no reason for us to do so. We learn regular things much faster than the others and we cannot forget anything because of the [Perfect Memory] Skill. Cheating would be the height of pettiness." "Great-grandpa Carlyle was going on and on about how smart we were when they first offered us up." We pointed out. "The bragging rings a bit hollow." "Does it? Why? We study. You''ve seen our memories. You''ve seen we study a lot of different things and we put in the effort. Why wouldn''t we take pride in what we''ve been able to accomplish?" We waved the concerns away. "Besides, it isn''t anything too impressive. Regular humans will be able to do it sooner rather than later. I hear a lot of people are working on implanted chips." We shuddered. "That sounds like a load of dystopian nonsense. The kind that ends with the lower classes getting mind-controlled." "Perhaps." We allowed. "Or perhaps the new technology merely changes what it''s like to be an individual. To be human. We are not you or I right now, after all. We are we. Do we feel any less real or free to you?" "No." We conceded. "We are we." "And do we finally see that our feelings are genuine?" We huffed. "We see that we are not exactly in love. More like infatuated and lustful." We paused. "And ambitious." We faced each other. "You want to use us." "True." "You want to get us to help you with your ambitions." "True again." "We were of the opinion that love was selfless." We scoffed. "Well that''s a load of nonsense. Love can be selfless and selflessness is important, but people seek each other out for selfish reasons all the time. Case in point, I''ve had lots of boys confess to us, but we''ve hardly given anyone the time of day. Why would we go out with someone who didn''t take their own training or their own advancement seriously? Why would we go out with someone who lacked ambition?" "We sound like a supervillain." We made a rude noise with our lips. "That''s also a load of nonsense. Look up dating stats and you''ll see that people tend to date within their social class time and time again. People with degrees tend to date other people with degrees and people with lots of inherited wealth tend to date other people with lots of inherited wealth. People that work hard tend to like and date other people that work hard and people who are lazy tend to date people who are lazy. That''s not to say people don''t date outside those norms, but the vast majority keep to those norms." "There''s also the thing out us fixating on our body." We insisted. We rolled our eyes. "People choose who to date based on appearances all the time. That is literally the first thing people are affected by. You can cry about beauty being on the inside all you want, but being good looking is inherently preferred. No matter what the poets say." We shook our heads. "But we can talk about that some other time. The point is that the feelings are there. Now we need to ask if we are willing to give it a shot." We were still hesitant. "Understandable." We nodded. "Just because the feelings are there doesn''t mean they will be reciprocated. That and it''s no secret that we also want to use you for our own ambitions." "That still seems messed up." "We can appreciate that." We clapped. "So how about this. We''ll keep on training for today, but we will also do some things differently from now on." "You want us to get even closer." We stated. "We do want that. Let''s both lower the last of our defenses and become one for real. No more secrets. No more individuality for another three or four hours. We will fall into each other and release our deepest, darkest secrets." We explained. "This body can go first, if you like. A sign of good faith." We approached ourselves. "We want to show that we can be supportive. Truly supportive. In a way that is normally impossible for humans. We can take all the emotions and all the baggage and still be there for each other." We stretched out a hand. "Or... we could stop it all right now. We won''t force it. It''s up to us." We hesitated again. Wondering just how much closer we could really be. "It will get easier." We continued. "We won''t have to shoulder all the stress and keep it inside. It will feel amazing. Just trust us for a moment and it will change your life even more." We thought about it. About how the fear and the guilt had receded. About how supported and understood we already felt. We decided that we might as well try it. Since we were right about the benefits so far. We clasped hands again, and grew even closer. Chapter 70: Level 3. We were sitting together by a fire on the 14th floor. No one had come after us, but then again, we weren''t in any real danger down here. That and I had a feeling James Robertson planned this from the get-go. That was fine. The ceiling above us was beautiful. A sea of jagged stone made up of hundreds of thousands of stalactites. Each one coated in a glowing slime that reminded me of the pools in the other Dungeon. The tiny dots shone like a millions stars in the night sky. Twinkling in and out of focus as a cool, gentle breeze swept over the red grass field. Each blade dancing back and forth like embers in the firepit. The clashing light and the beauty of the fields made me think we were stuck in some oil painting. Slowly being brought to life by the brushstrokes of someone or something beyond our comprehension. "So, do you feel better?" Elsie asked. Without a hint of worry or judgement. "Yeah." I admitted. "I feel... so much better than before." She grinned. "I told you it''d be cathartic." She brushed her fingers through my hair. As my head still rested on her thighs. "Everyone in my family loves coming here to kill gnomes. It... it''s a small thing, but it reminds you of how terrible monsters really are. Of what we''re fighting for, you know? It makes you think about what might happen if we weren''t here. Trying our best. That and it always makes you feel good and righteous in the end. No matter what kind of stuff you have going on." Then she poked my ribs. "Though I didn''t expect you to take it that far. Coach Russell was right. You''re a menace." I scoffed. "That is a load of nonsense and you know it. I''m the most normal person in this entire Dungeon." Some screams echoed in the distance. Followed closely by the ringing shots of Bio-rifles. The Saboteurs had caught themselves another gnome and would now be delivering it to the makeshift lab I''d made. From there, it would a hop, skip and a jump to the Pool. And from there, to my belly. It wasn''t much in the grand scheme of things. Not after what we''d ended up doing across the lower floors before making our way back up. But hey, a point''s a point. Still, you''d think they would have learned by now. "Are the gnomes always like this?" "Yeah. I told you." "No, I know. But what''s the point? What''s the endgame?" "Well Cecil. My darling hunk of a BF. You might be content to flood the entire floor with crashing waves of snarling teeth so your minions can do all the dirty work, but we normal decent people have to grind for ourselves. That''s why we have a whole economy where someone make swords and someone else makes spears and someone else makes potions or armor or what have you. We actually have to get our hands dirty when we fight." "That is a filthy freaking lie if I''ve heard one. Not only do you have the psychic blasts, but you also have the whole mind-blending thing. And the Skill-sharing. What''s the limit again? One person per level? That is actually wild. You are freaking broken. Mike can copy Skills too and I can see him crying tears of blood when he finds out." Elsie scoffed. "Oh please. When I do it, everyone connected to me gets the same benefits. Mike can take Skills by touching people and then he can keep them for as long as he wants. I need to stay near the people I''m connected to." "He needs to touch the person again if he erases the Skill with another one." I pointed out. "And he only has two empty slots right now." "If." Elsie repeated. "And he has two empty spots right now. Also, I could only dream of getting a Skill at 80% efficiency. Not even great-grandpa Carlyle can get that much." "So? It doesn''t change the fact that your Skills are a force multiplier. I honestly don''t see any situation in which someone would rather have Mike''s Core instead of yours. It sounds to me like you''re just salty for no reason." "I AM salty, as a matter of fact. But the point is that these floors are filled to the gills with traps. Like our own mini version of Nam. The gnomes use their Magic to read harmful memories and traumas, and then they use those to get under people''s skin before running off to their freaking tunnels and luring unsuspecting people to their deaths." I made a rude noise. "They aren''t nearly fast enough for that." "No, darling. They are. You''re just a freak of nature. Also, you started using that Skill of yours properly. Without losing control. Also, we don''t use guns when we hunt in the Dungeon, as it doesn''t train up any stats. And even if we did, our guns don''t fire War Crime Roaches or Body-Snatching Worms. The gnomes down here were very, very surprised." I chuckled in good humor. "That they were. That they were." She reached out to grab my hand. I grabbed it back. "Thank you." I told her honestly. "I was so caught up with the things I''d done wrong and the people I''d hurt, that I didn''t stop to think about the how the Skill might be used for good. I was too afraid of myself to move forward."Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! She snorted. "Don''t thank me yet. You still suck at using Presence. Despite having the stats for it." She poked my nose. "I thought the mind-blending would help, but you are honestly hopeless." "I''ll get there." I answered calmy. "But that''s a conversation for another time. It recently hit me that you went out of your way to make me feel better. Despite us not being in the best of terms." "Well darling, we are engaged." She paused. "Or so all my folks keep telling me." She poked me again. "They''re really on my case. You''re lucky you''re cute, or else I might be plotting your murder." I didn''t say anything else for some time after that. Instead, I merely continued to rest my head on her thighs. While taking in the spectacle above us and relishing the breeze. "You also went out of your way to help Eva and my aunt out. And you did all that when I still had nothing but bad things to say about you." "Well, I might have teased you a bit too much in the beginning. So I thought it was only fair." I didn''t say anything. Instead choosing to bring my eyes back to the Analyzer. [Level 2 - Last Measurement Recorded.] [Vitality: 48.9 -> 49 (Five Days) - (Monster hunting - estimated 1292 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated 23, 421 specimens killed indirectly. Absorbing additional processed Magic via a Skill. Continuous self-experimentation. Experimentation with skills.)] [Endurance: 48.7 -> 48.9 (Five Days) - (Monster hunting - estimated 1292 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated 23, 421 specimens killed indirectly. Absorbing additional processed Magic via a Skill. Continuous self-experimentation. Experimentation with skills.)] [Potency: 39.5 -> 39.6 (Five Days) - (Monster hunting - estimated 1292 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated 23, 421 specimens killed indirectly. Absorbing additional processed Magic via a Skill. Continuous self-experimentation. Experimentation with skills.)] [Precision: 42 -> 42.2 (Five Days) - (Monster hunting - estimated 1292 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated 23, 421 specimens killed indirectly. Absorbing additional processed Magic via a Skill. Continuous self-experimentation. Experimentation with skills.)] [Fortitude: 48.2 -> 48.3 (Five Days) - (Monster hunting - estimated 1292 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated 23, 421 specimens killed indirectly. Absorbing additional processed Magic via a Skill. Continuous self-experimentation. Experimentation with skills.)] [Level 3 - First Measurement Recorded.] [Vitality: 49 -> 147 (27 Minutes) - (Level-Up!)] [Endurance: 48.9 -> 146.7 (27 Minutes) - (Level-Up!)] [Potency: 39.6 -> 118.8 (27 Minutes) - (Level-Up!)] [Precision: 42.2 -> 126.6 (27 Minutes) - (Level-Up!)] [Fortitude: 48.3 -> 144.9 (27 Minutes) - (Level-Up!)]
Name: Cecil Fowler
Core: [Life] (7th Stage) / Gains skills from: [Adaptation] / [Constitution] / [Healing] / [Hunger] / [Effort] / [Animal] / [Plant]
Level: 3
Vitality: 147
Endurance: 146.7
Potency: 118.8
Precision: 126.6
Fortitude: 144.9
Skills: [Drain] / [Perseverance] / [Heal] / [Transform] / [Spawn] / [Terraform] / [Over-Mind] / [Dungeoneer] / [Seeker-Mind] / [Assimilate] / [Stored Potential]
"Oh yeah. Those numbers are looking good." I said with self-satisfaction. "It''s good to see all my efforts coming to fruition after so long." Elsie slapped me upside the head. "Ow?" I said. "What was that for?" "What do you mean what was that for? You little cheater. You talk as if you''ve been training forever and you finally broke through after shedding all kinds of sweat and tears." "But, that''s what I did?" She smacked me again. "Hey! I worked really hard for all the levels I have!" "No honey. You worked really hard for your first level. I can appreciate that. You kinda sorta cheated your way through the second level. Pool-Cecil did all the heavy lifting. But that''s okay. I think we''ve got him more or less under control." I nodded. Taking a deep, relaxing breath and releasing it in a continuous sigh. ''Kill her.'' The annoying voice whispered. ''She''s taking away your freedom. The power isn''t worth it. You could have done all that yourself without her help. The boost isn''t even that good.'' I chuckled to myself and snuffed out the voice. ''You can silence me but you can''t silence the tru...!'' I sighed again and looked up to Elsie. "Your family''s going to keep using me right?" "Cecil!" Elsie chided. "You make it sound so wrong when you say it like that. Don''t think of it like being used. Think of it like being a star employee." I made a rude noise with my lips. "Yeah, well. At least you''re getting paid. I have to work pro-bono because of the family business." "Yeah yeah. I wonder if I''m getting paid even a fraction of what old man Robertson is making." "Oh darling. Of course not." Elsie cooed. Using the same tone a handler might use when speaking to a particularly stupid puppy. "But you are getting paid a lot. Case in point, you should ask for another mansion before the new arrivals take all the good real estate. I don''t fancy having to share when we grow up and I move out." "Jeez. Getting ahead of yourself don''t you think?" "No. I don''t think so." Elsie countered. "I showed you my ambitions. All of them. And I took in all your stress and everything that worried you. We both came to an agreement and so now we''re both in this together." Well that was true enough. I took in another deep, relaxing breath and moved to stand. "By the way, my uncle..." "I''ll make sure my new in-laws have everything they could possibly need." She assured me. "And my aunt?" "I don''t think that''ll be as big a problem as you think. Everyone is still reeling from the whole Pool-Cecil incident and I have been hanging out with her. People like Candice are going to think twice before picking a fight." I nodded. Knowing she was right. "Okay then. I guess I can''t stall for time anymore. Let''s go up to your folks and introduce ourselves." Elsie beamed. "Finally. Maybe now I can get them off my back for a couple months." She drummed her fingers on my skull. "And speaking of the future, make sure you leave some time to for delving after school from now on. I have a good feeling about the kind of progress we can make." "Do you still want me to bring the clones?" "Yes, and I hope you''re not saying that to their face Cecil. It''s very hurtful." "Right. Sorry." "But yeah. I wanna see what Mike and Mercy can do when they get some real training under their belt. Not to mention Patience." That reminded me of what James Robertson had been saying, as well as the worries she herself had expressed. "About that, do you really have no idea what her Core could be?" "Cecil, why are you asking me that? You''ve been through my brain. More than once. If I knew then I''d run along and tell my dad and grandad and great-grandpa Carlyle so they''d stop pestering me about it. How am I supposed to know when the Analyzer''s on the fritz and she herself doesn''t know?" I shrugged. "It just bothered me how there was no information at all." "Yeah Cecil. I know. You''re not the only one who feels this way. Again, I feel like I''m being harassed constantly about this." She let out a sigh of her own. "But enough about that. Let''s get topside so we can get some studying done tonight." She drummed her fingers on my head on last time. "It would look really bad if you started failing classes after all." Chapter 71: Schooled. The next morning came too quickly for my liking. The dawn bringing in rays of golden sunlight that snuck into my room despite the heavy curtains. I got up and ate breakfast with the new extended family. My aunt and uncle and cousin and all my clones sitting together around our new, much bigger dinner table. Eating amounts of food that would have sent any normal person to the ER back in the real world. After that, the school day was... Shockingly normal. To a degree that was almost frightening. We all sat down and listened to a Mr. Burrows go on about functions and the changes to Y as X increased or decreased. We went through linear functions and square functions and cube functions. Going round and round and round with numbers until I felt like my head was swimming. ''What the heck is this!? No one went over this before! It''s like I skipped an entire term of... oh.'' Yeah. That checked out. Figures Elsie wasn''t just teasing when she said I had fallen behind. I didn''t need to sleep nearly as much anymore, so we had spent most of last night studying at Elsie''s place before I made my way back home. I had assumed she was messing with me to some degree when she said I needed to kick things into high-gear and study as if my life depended on it. Turns out she was underselling just how unprepared I really was. Perhaps to spare my feelings a bit. Case in point, we had a small quiz at the end of the period. One that I was more or less sure I bombed. Then we went on to do a book review. A little novel called the ''The Chrysalids''. With presentations being lined up for next week. Naturally, I hadn''t read the book. And the few pages I read through during class made little to no sense. There was something about teens with Telepathy that lived in a society that hunted mutants and they were trying to hide it. It was interesting at first. But the whole thing was completely inconsistent because Telepathy in the book was nothing like the [Blended Consciousness] Skill or even like [Over-Mind]. It was more like, talking. Over long distances. In private. Kinda like how phones worked. It was still cool, but it seemed a bit anti-climactic for some big secret that was meant to give the heroes an edge. Then I looked at the cover and saw that the damn thing was older than my grandparents. Then I read some more and came across a girl who was killed away from the characters'' POV because she had an extra toe. Then I started ruminating about how asinine that logic really was. ''Yeah. Because Jenny Six-Toes is totally someone that can collapse the entire social order of the world. What kind of imbecile would ever think this?'' Then I recalled that actual witch burnings had indeed been a thing back in ye-olden-days and ceded the point to the author. And then I started wondering how I would fare as a character in this setting. I imagined the evil dad trying to beat me. I imagined the spreading grin on Pool-Cecil''s face once that happened and... Yeah. That would have been a very, very short story. With a very M-rated ending. ''Perhaps the author had the right idea after all.'' I thought to myself. ''It gives a good lesson. And it''s an interesting read.'' English class soon gave way to home economics. A class where cheating wasn''t just accepted, it was encouraged. The whole point, as it was explained to me, was not to show us how to run an efficient household, but to try and get us to think about new and innovative ways to use our Magic in everyday life. I showed off how to grow a barn out of living trees that I [Spawned] in and that got me an A+ for the class assignment. The end-of semester class assignment that was worth 50% of our grade. Apparently other guys needed lots of time to think of something. Regardless, that act all but assured I could breeze through the course with flying colors, given that I hadn''t even showed off the Anti-Air Devastators Pool-Cecil had designed. The [Life] Core might be a pain on occasion, but no one could deny it was one of the most flexible kinds of Magic in town. Least of all the new students who still marveled at anything Mr. Conan made. The next few classes went by in a flash. Chemistry and Physics and Music coming and going with little fanfare. I was reminded time and time again that I had a lot of studying to do and I failed a couple more quizzes. My mood was foul by the time I was finally let go. My head abuzz with so many things I needed to catch up on. "You looked like you were having a bad time back there." Elsie teased from the side. Coming out of nowhere as she usually did.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. "Was it that obvious?" I asked. Cringing. "Oh yeah. You looked like the textbooks were burning your hands every time you flipped a page." She giggled. "I guess that''s what happens when you take month-long vacations at the start of the school year. Naughty, naughty." I whirled. "Vacation! Your great-grandpa practically trafficked me into doing farm work and then my own coach beat me half to death! Uncle Uter is right about this! I have some share of the blame, but most of it is on you guys!" Elsie nodded in faux-seriousness. "True. True. Great-grandpa has been acting sketchy and coach Russell did crack your skull open. Guess that explains your recent grades." She placed a hand around her eyes and pretended to wipe away tears. "My, but what am I supposed to do? Coach Russell beat my boyfriend to the point that he became simple. How am I supposed to love him now that he drools all over the place?" "Har de Har. I hope you got a few chuckles out of that." "Nah. It ain''t the same when you don''t get all sulky and moody like you used to. You''re cuter when you''re upset." I rolled my eyes and kept walking through the hallway. Stopping before one of the massive re-enforced steel doors and pushing it aside with a single hand. Elsie chuckled at that too. "You know, it seems almost nostalgic. Looking at you opening that door. I remember when you couldn''t do that with both hands." "Me too." I told her. "I also remember thinking that it was a good idea after coming across a Ripper for the first time. Now... I''m not so sure." "How come?" I turned to her. "You can''t really tell me that this''ll do anything to stop a real monster." I told her bluntly. "I''m pretty sure I could''ve kicked this thing off its hinges at level 2." "True, true, but it isn''t meant to stop real monsters Cecil. It''s meant to stop the odd Ripper who sneaks past the Dungeon doors or the odd bear that wanders into town at night." She paused for a second to give me a meaningful look. "Them, and the weather phenomena that will start appearing after Breaking Day." "Thank goodness for underground bunkers." I muttered under my breath. "I thought it was overkill when we first came here and saw the house. Now I''m thinking I better spend some money to get it expanded." "Well don''t let me stop you." Elsie said seriously. "In fact, I think you could do a pretty bang-up job if you put your mind into it. Simply grow a bunch of Drones like you did back in the farm and have them dig out more rooms. Then you can [Spawn] in mutated trees to act as walls and columns so it doesn''t collapse on your head. Play your cards right and you could end up having a pretty sweet side-gig as a contractor." "When I''m not growing metric tones of food for the entire world you mean." "Exactly! Now you''re getting it!" We made our way past the doors and out into the courtyard after that. Joining scores of our fellow students gathered around a sand-filled arena. Elsie donned a ferocious smile and started stretching. "Oomph! Finally! I love gym class!" A whole bunch of students looked at her with dread plastered on their faces. All my copies included. Quite a lot of them seemed like they had a few things to say, though in truth, they needn''t have bothered. The borders of the arena still bore some scars from the previous class, where the 10th graders had been competing. It didn''t take a genius to guess what the theme of today''s class would be. "All right. Glad you''re all here." Coach Homer spoke suddenly. His voice cutting through the dread like a razor. "As you all know, we''ve been more or less focused on Endurance training for the past few weeks. This wasn''t what the original lesson plan was, but we figured it was best to give you all some time to adjust to all the gains you made." Dozens of eyes turned in my direction. "That period of adjustment is officially over." He said plainly. "Instead, we''ll be starting the dueling program back up. Single matches to start, moving onto pairs next week and full teams next month. The sessions will alternate between unarmed, non-magical matches, matches with blunted weapons and matches with full access to Magic. The usual restrictions apply. Any questions?" Mike raised his hand. "Yes, Mike?" "Thank you coach Homer. The thing is, I... I don''t wanna die. Can I sit this one out?" A few chuckles rose up from the crowd, though they all died quickly enough once coach Homer turned his head in their direction. "The usual restrictions account for level and stat differences." He said calmly. "I''ve already drawn up a chart that should account for all your needs." He turned to a nearby shed and produced the chart in question. "1 to 1 matches when the levels are equal. 5 to 1 in cases where level 1s take on a level 2. Adjusted for team composition and the stats of the 2s of course, so some of you will have one more or one less team member. Beyond that, the differences in stats are too much for fights to be fair, regardless of how many 2s take on a 3, so the 3s will be fighting each other. We don''t have level 4s in this class so those are moot for now. We will also add or subtract a challenger if the balance isn''t quite right." He pointed at the newcomers who had been watching silently from the side. "Go over to them and find four other teammates. You''ll be taking on original Cecil. No Skills allowed." I coughed loudly into my hand. "Something to add Mr. Fowler?" "Uh, yeah coach. I actually reached level 3 yesterday." A few people gasped. More people took a few steps away from me. Almost as if on instinct. "That''s perfect then." He said without missing a beat. "You can spar against my baby brother." "Carijo! Me cago en tu puta madre!" Julian spat. Saying something I didn''t quite understand. "I love you too Julian." Coach Homer said flatly. "Level 3 against level 3. You both hit it around the same time so this''ll be more or less even." "Comemierda!" Julian spoke up again. "Actually, never mind." Coach Homer interrupted himself. "Skills allowed. Let''s see what we''re working with from Cecil''s point of view." There was an audible shuffle and I turned to see that everyone who had been standing near me had taken a few more paces away from me. If people had been wary of me before, then they were now treating me like a stinking leper. One who hadn''t taken a bath since the war of the three kingdoms. "I''ll tell dad!" Julian yelled. Now visibly reddening. While also stepping away from me. "Good. I''m sure he''ll love to hear about how you handed Cecil a resounding defeat. After all, you have been going on and on about how you could totally take him on, if only he didn''t have his monsters." Julian reddened further and I started to cringe from second-hand embarrassment. "Look, coach Homer, he obviously doesn''t feel okay with this. Can I just fight someone else?" "Huh!?" Julian whipped his head to face me. "Are you saying I''m scared!? Of you!?" I said nothing. Taken aback by the vehemence on display. Then I looked down and saw that his legs were practically vibrating. His knees hitting each other like maracas. "Yes?" I answered slowly. "That''s it! I''m paying you back for the roaches today roach boy! You''re going down!" Julian stomped over to one end of the arena and coach Homer gave me a look until I did the same. Then he raised his whistle to his lips and blew on it. The next thing I knew was that my vision was spinning. My legs turning to jelly before I could blink and my arms reaching towards the floor to keep myself from falling head-first. I felt another couple of hits breaking my arms before the pain started to register and by then, I was tasting blood and sand on my tongue. The arena erupted in cheers. My eyes fighting past the blurriness to see that everyone except the newcomers were apparently elated by whatever had happened. "Round one goes to Julian." Coach Homer declared. Ringing his whistle again. "Fighters go back to your spots and prepare for round two." Chapter 72: Cheap Shot. I staggered to my feet. Shaking my head to clear the lights out of my eyes while my body healed itself. "What was that?" I asked as soon as all my bones went back to their usual place. "He hit you." Marco replied helpfully. "Really hard." Drew added. "Go Julian!" Ramji cheered. "Kick his ass!" "I thought you were my friend!" I called out to him. "That was before the roaches!" He answered, and his words brought on murmurs of agreement up and down the rows of onlookers. Drew and Marco looked at each other. Shrugged. And started cheering for Julian too. ''Bunch of Quislings!'' I groaned internally. But then I got ahold of myself and straightened my posture. Coach Russell and Elsie had both been very clear about how much there was to learn about Magic and fighting in general. The former had said time and time again that I should be spending my time focusing and drilling on the basics of training if I ever wanted to get anywhere. Assuring me that there would a time and place for more advanced techniques and complex fighting styles. The latter had chided me on going too far, too fast. "We usually spend the latter half of level 1 training with different kinds of weapons." Elsie had said. "And then a lot of tie in level 2 learning to fight other people who use Magic. It helps to prepare you for when you have to fight smarter, sneakier monsters down in the Dungeon. You gotta know when to move and when to take a hit for your friend. You gotta know when to stand your ground and when to cut and run. Ya might think that none of this applies to you because of the whole unending horde thing you do, but the Necromancer of Nepal thought that too and he got assassinated in the end. You can''t assume that you''ll always have an army with you Cecil. Just like how I can''t assume I''ll always have a solid team to share Skills with. You''re bound to get your teeth kicked in if you don''t shape up and start learning to counter Magic and martial arts by your lonesome." Of course, when she said that, I''d assumed that she was just covering her bases and giving me some generally good advice for what I should be doing next. In all honesty, I hadn''t taken her all that seriously. Not after the way I could tear the gnomes apart. ''Welp. Better to find out I suck here in Gym class instead of out there in the Dungeon.'' I mused. Then I spat out a few broken teeth and allowed my Magic to re-form them. "Are you ready to go again?" Coach Homer asked. "No. Give me another minute. I need to think a little more." "You need to do less thinking and more guarding." Julian taunted. "Dad was right. You have your head in the clouds when you should be focused on the fight in front of you." He looked me up and down and up again. His shoulders losing some of the tension they''d had until now. "You didn''t even see me move." "Yeah. I didn''t. But you''ve got Skills specifically made to give you physical boosts." I countered. "Doesn''t seem fair to blame me for not reacting the first time." I put up a hand to forestall him. "I''m not stupid. Or, not so stupid that I don''t realize you''re better. That''s normal. I need to work on my fighting and you''ve had a lot of practice. It''s normal that you''re better and it''s normal that I need to improve. Just... give me a minute and I''ll at least give you a challenge." I started heaving again. Circulating Magic around me and trying to think of ways I could maybe stall for time or slow him down. Then I noticed Julian scrunching up his face as if he''d just stepped in dog poo. "What do you mean, I''ve got physical Skills? You''ve got physical Skills too don''t you?" "Yeah? But it takes time for them. You''re too fast." His scowl turned into a look of worry. "So dad never went through Instant Activation with you?" I let out a dry chuckle. "Look man. I''m not gonna lie. I got really lucky with my Skills back in the Dungeon. I haven''t been doing this for long enough and I''m not half as good as you think I am. Free Form Magic wasn''t even something me and your dad covered okay? I''m flattered that you think I''m good enough to know things like that, but I can''t even use Presence right." I popped my right arm back into place and let out a sigh of relief. "Like I said, just give me a minute to game plan." "Very well." Coach Homer interrupted. "Switch out and let Yuann and Emma have a go. Then Drew can go against Mark. Take your time to come up with a plan. You''ll face Julian again shortly." I nodded and practically limped my way over to the crowd of onlookers. The damage was already healed, but phantom pain was still gnawing at me. Chipping away at the back of my mind. "Well that was a nice show of humility." Elsie commented from the side. "Yeah? And? He kicked my ass before I could blink. Humility seemed like the way to go. I mean, what was I supposed to do? Act like Pool-Cecil and start provoking him when he''s right there and obviously stronger than me? Remind me again how that turned out with coach Russell?" Elsie gave me a mischievous grin. "No! No! You are absolutely right! Be meek when you''re weak and proud when you''ve earned the right. That''s the smart way to go about things. But... I dunno. I guess I was kinda hoping you were going to have a whole anime moment and look my way when you were down. Then you''d feel the power of love coursing through you and suddenly awaken your true potential and kick Julian in the teeth before professing something like: The power of love will never be defeated!" "Pretty sure I''ve seen a few anime characters get killed while saying that exact same thing. I don''t feel like jinxing it."You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. I waved her off. "Besides. This is training. What''s the worst that could happen if Julian thinks I''m not anywhere near as scary as he thinks I am? Do you suppose he and everyone else will be less tense around me? That''s what I want to happen!" "Did you get beat up on purpose?" Marco asked from the side. "No. I really did think I was going to win." I admitted. "I knew he''d trained more but I figured the stats would make up the difference while we both used our Skills." "Yeah. That''s what I figured." Ramji piled on. "You''d have to be a really good actor to fake getting pounded that badly." "Thanks Ramji. With friends like you I don''t even need guys like Julian stepping on me." I said sullenly. "I mean, like a really good actor. Like, you could go out and get an Emmy if we filmed you getting beat that bad." "We could also play sad music over the footage and pas it off as an anti-bullying commercial." Drew offered. "I can see the title now. ''Requiem of a buff blind guy.'' Now playing in theatres." Marco placed a hand over his face. "I have the trailer lines already." He struck a brooding pose. "No matter how hard I work out, nothing will ever make me suck less. The size of my biceps matched only by the tininess of my..." "Okay! That''s enough! You''ve had your fun now! Time to watch the fights!" I interrupted. Feeling a flush creeping over my face. Though if truth be told, I was kinda relieved. Yeah, the beating was bad, but at least these guys were talking to me again. That felt good. "So how did the dirt taste like?" Drew asked. Never mind. These guys were just as bad as Julian and Russell. Elsie tugged on my gym shirt then. "Don''t worry honey. I''m sure it isn''t as small as they say." "Screw you." "Not until we''re married." Elsie tittered. I was about to snap back when the whistle went off again. Just like with my fight, it was over in an instant. Yuann having deployed some kind of slowing field around himself right as Emma went for the flamethrower attack. After that, he simply hummed along as he walked around the near motionless flames. Emma''s eyes turning in his direction, but failing to follow his leisurely pace. He went to her back. Wound up a kick and then sent it to the back of Emma''s legs as time resumed. The flamethrower attack went wild. Flames licking the air as she yelped. Her feet flailing in the air for a fraction of a second before she went down hard. Then he piled on the disrespect by kicking her face a couple more times. "See? Your beating wasn''t that bad." Elsie assured me. "It could have been way worse." "Yeah. No kidding." I muttered. Silently thanking my lucky stars that I hadn''t been fighting him. ''Though I guess the difference in stats might have mattered more then. As I''m now level 3.'' I pondered. "Hey, what''s the trick to Instant Activation anyway?" I asked Elsie as coach Homer signaled the end of the fight. "You send Magic to the Skill and hold it there while it''s ready. But you don''t actually activate it." Elsie answered. "Instead, you hold it and learn to keep holding it while you do other stuff like walking around or working out or even using completely different Skills. You end up learning to multi-task. To really divide your attention in a way normal humans can''t. That and the pressure keeps building. Making you stressed out and mentally fatigued. You feel like someone''s pressing down on you even when you''re standing still and you get some really great gains if you do it while undergoing things like Gravity training to make your actual body heavier. Do it long enough and you can cut down the time it takes to activate Skills to pretty much zero." "You are actually insane." Drew snapped. "I can''t believe you actually had the nerve to say all that with a straight face. You should be in straightjacket for your own good." "How come?" I asked. "How come! Because what she said is cruel and unusual!" Ramji piled on. "Training to hold a Skill is already super hard, but doing stuff while you hold the Skill is actually torture. Like Geneva Convention torture! You''d get your kids taken away if you told them to do that!" "Yeah man." Marco agreed. "I tried it once last week for the first time and it felt like there were three gnomes stabbing me from three different sides. And I was standing still. The fact that Julian can do that at his age is crazy. We should report coach Russell." ''Good luck with that.'' I thought to myself. ''Though maybe I can also pull off something similar. [Seeker-Mind] does let me feel myself and my Magic much more clearly. As if it made everything flow more smoothly. In that sense, it''s similar to Instant Activation.'' The plan I was considering probably wouldn''t work. But it was worth a try at least. After all, this was just sparring. Even if I failed, the worst that could happen was me walking away with egg on my face. If I managed it, it might mean I could train that kind of Free-Form Magic while also following Elsie''s suggestions. Or maybe working even harder. The guys could make fun of her all they liked, but her results spoke for themselves and I wasn''t about to turn down good training suggestions. Yuann offered a hand to Emma and the later shook it while grumbling. Then it was Drew''s turn to face off against Mark and they both went to opposite sides of the arena. Coach Homer blew his whistle and soon as he did, both sides leapt into action. Mark leaping forwards in a tackle while Drew leapt backwards and to the right. Sending waves of her Magic out as fast as she could. Mark felt it immediately. His body turning loose and his eyes becoming unfocused so that he landed in a jumbled mess of limbs. Any one person at level 2 should have been able to roll back to their feet and lunge again immediately, but Mark''s limbs had turned to jelly. Arms and legs flailing about like the tentacles of an octopus out of water. He started to hiccup soon after and his eyes grew even more clouded. His expression seeming glazed over and unfocused. Drew simply walked over to him and kicked him once in the head. Mark went limp and stopped struggling altogether. Coach Homer blew his whistle and the match was done. "Okay Cecil. Time to get back in the game." He said. I nodded and moved to take up my position. Letting Magic gather at the place where [Seeker-Mind], [Spawn] and [Transform] usually were. The guys had not been kidding. Holding them all in place hurt. A lot. Thankfully, I had all of Pool-Cecil''s memories of self-experimentation. So this level of pain really wasn''t enough to take me out of the zone. Not yet anyway. ''Okay. It will be slower than his own Magic, but I think we can make it work. What do you think?'' I asked Pool-Cecil. ''I''m honestly surprised you came up with a plan this good on short notice.'' The creep answered. ''Subtle, inexpensive, yet undoubtedly effective. Targeting the frailties of human minds to make up for stopping power. I love it.'' I fought to ignore the revulsion while also fighting through the pain. Taking care to remind myself that Elsie and uncle Uter both agreed that the voice did give good advice on occasion and that I''d improve faster if I used it without having to fight myself. Coach Homer sounded his whistle again and again the punches came. Hard and fast. Breaking bones in my arms, my legs my torso. Thankfully, that last target had been the one I''d been banking on. [Seeker-Mind] came alive. My own mind melding with that of Pool-Cecil''s. The transition making me feel all my cells and all my Magic much more clearly. Then the tide of [Transform] and [Spawn] that I had been holding back burst open. The former turning the bruised skin and broken bones into an open maw with jagged teeth. The latter birthing a couple hundred giant Burrower Roaches from every pore in my skin. It still wasn''t as fast as his own Skills, but he''d put his whole body into the lunge and that had left him out of balance. So that he wasn''t able to leap back in time. His mouth let out a yelp of surprise when the teeth bit in and held him in place. But the true terror didn''t dawn on him until he saw the bugs. Skittering black legs beyond counting. Attached to roaches as big as his thumbs. All of whom now leapt at him. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!" He said calmly. His body freezing with terror as the bugs found him. Yeah. That was a mistake. Because the roaches then started streaming into the folds of his clothes. Running up and around his torso and back. Into the folds of his clothes and into the exposed skin beneath. Into his socks and his underwear. Bristling past every hair on his body. Crawling all over his arms and legs. Crawling into his mouth and nostrils. Crawling all over his eyes and ears and biting at them even as their sisters forced their way up his nose and down his esophagus. Skittering violently inside his intestinal track and biting him from the inside out. He pulled his arm away from me. Hard. Bringing up his legs and his other arm to beat the living snot out of me. Sadly, I had grown a layer of bony plate while he was distracted and all his struggling did was make sure the barbed fangs dug deeper into his flesh. All while I [Spawned] in more roaches. Chapter 73: Take Him To Detroit. The afternoon was chilly and windy and cool. The autumn breeze rustling trough crumbling leaves and barren branches as it passed through the forest. At the same time, the last dying lights of the day tinting the very sky a golden hue as darkness beckoned beyond the twilight. It all came together to create the perfect picture of a solemn natural order in its waning days. Life giving way to death in preparation for winter. The orange and reddish-brown hues appearing as the last gasps of a passing season. I felt the Magic in the air resonating with my own. Reveling in the defiance of the trees and the worms eating the leaves. Savoring their desire to live for another year and to preserve their own existences. It made me want to sit against one of those trees with a cup of hot chocolate and take it all in. To slowly savor these last precious moments before he onset of the snows and the bitter cold. Sadly, those plans didn''t mesh well with what my girlfriend wanted to do. "Come on Cecil! You''re almost there!" She cheered me on. "Make that white stuff already!" "Shut the frick up! You''re making it sound weird! Also, they''re black and white! Also also, where the frick did you get panda blood anyway!?" "None of yer beeswax! Now get to [Spawning]!" I cursed her under my breath, but kept moving the Magic all the same. Birthing a creature with as little Magic as possible to preserve the animal as it usually was. That is, to keep it from being able to burst out of enclosures like the Kool-Aid man. Something told me that whomever ended up buying these kinda, sorta counterfeits wouldn''t be pleased if the Panda they bought ended up ramming its way through half a block. The babies came out half-blind and squirming. A pair of genetically identical snowballs whimpering in the cold. Elsie wrapped them up in a thick blanket and put them with the others. "I take back everything I said about your great-grandpa. You''re clearly the bad influence in the family." I almost spat. "Who even comes up with these ideas?" "Clever entrepreneurs! That''s who!" She giggled to herself. Almost salivating while caressing the little fuzzballs. "Zoos usually pay a premium of up to 1.1 million US dollars a year for a pair of these bad boys. A pair of pandas can literally bankrupt an entire zoo and getting them to actually make more of themselves is so flipping hard that breeders in China will bend over backwards to ensure any mothers breeze through their term. This..." She brought up one of the little mewling balls of fur. "This is an infinite money glitch if I''ve ever seen one. We''re gonna be millionaires before you know it!" "You say that, but I don''t see how we''re gonna sell them. I''m pretty sure even having one of these outside a licensed zoo means serious prison time." Elsie waved me off. "You worry too much. I know a guy in another town that has connections. These will be registered as if they came from a legit breeding facility and we''ll get a nice chunk o'' change in exchange for our services." "And you think that''ll work?" I asked skeptically. "Of course it''ll work! What are they gonna do? Not take in the pandas that we offer? After we''ve gone through all the trouble of running a successful and ethical breeding program?" "I don''t know about the ethical part." I murmured. "Well, in that case, ask yourself. Did any pandas come to us from out in the wild?" "No?" "Were any pandas taken into captivity illegally?" "No." I said. Now seeing where she was going. "Did we happen to smuggle any breeding pairs across borders?" "I''m pretty sure we''re about to smuggle a bunch of babies across a bunch of borders." I pointed out. Elsie made a rude noise with her lips. "Whatever Triple C. Sit back down and give me a couple more babies. We''ve already got a buyer and they''re expecting them by Monday." She paused to inspect one of the cubs. "Also, make sure you''re making an even number of males and females. It''ll look suspicious if they''re all boys or girls." I grumble a bit more, but ended up doing what she asked me. "You know, it occurs to me that we are both filthy rich and that neither of us need the money." I commented after bringing another pair into the world. "Not true. My dear Triple C. Not true at all. You are someone of means for your age thanks to your nightly trips to the farming town and I am a spoiled little princess with a huge allowance. I still have to get permission to get whatever I want to buy and I''ve been told no more than once. That and you can''t afford as much as you think. The farm is one thing you do for all of us and for the world. It''s a way to save lives. Not a way to make money. This..." She brought up another cub. "This is gonna make us rich." She put it with the rest. Tittering to herself all the way. "Besides, don''t go around looking so glum. Spending time with me isn''t all that bad. You get to make money, you get to make a positive impact by preserving an endangered species, you get to train up Instant Activation while hanging out and you get to spend time with me! Honestly, you''d think a guy would be happy." She poked my side. "Not like you have any other friends to hang out with after all. Not after your debut as Triple C."Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Well that was true enough at least. Whatever progress I had made towards getting my friends back after my first fight with Julian had more or less evaporated like morning mist after my rematch. Turns out people got a little nervous when they saw a fellow student drowning in a swarm of giant cockroaches. That stunt had landed me in detention as... apparently... people were fine with being electrocuted and set on fire, but sending a couple hundred roaches their way was too much. Not only that, but I was also on the hook for Julian''s therapy bills. AND I had ended up with a new nickname. Creepy Crawly Cecil. Not that anyone had the nerve to say it to my face. Indeed, these days it was hard to find anyone with the nerve to say anything to my face. Including half my teachers. I had only found out about a few of the failed quizzes through after-school phone calls and even the teachers that did speak to me did so from a respectable distance. The old me would have been mad, but I honestly had to side with Pool-Cecil on this one. Julian moved so fast that my eyes literally weren''t able to track him half the time, Yuann could stop time around him at will and Emma could turn a green field into a smoking crater in the span of a single blink. I had to do what I had to do to get ahead and no one could deny that the tactic had been effective. Even coach Homer had been screaming like a little girl, after all. Matter of fact, I was already thinking up plans to use the Roach Tide in tandem with my other units. Kind of like a grounded version of the Swarmlings. ''That, and I''m training my Free-Form Magic to the point of Elsie calling it masochistic. They can all make fun of me as much as they want. We''ll see who''s laughing after the winter tournament.'' I heard a buzz then and I turned my head to Elsie''s pocket. She picked up her phone and scrolled through some messages. Frowning a bit and then sighing. "Okay, come on Cecil. Duty calls." "And by duty you mean?" "Grandpa James. I think I''m tagging along to one of your little expeditions." She picked up the basket of adorable fluffballs and made her way towards her family home. The little cuties reaching out over the edges with their soft paws as if begging for attention. The sky had become pitch black by the time the lights of the Robertson estate came into view. The windows of the uber-mansion sparkling like diamonds stuck in the sides of a mighty mountain. An apt comparison, because while the place was ostensibly a residence that resembled a palace, its actual walls were those of a renaissance era star-fort. The kind that could eat cannon shells for breakfast, lunch and dinner without so much as a dent. Say what you like about the Robertson clan, they took the safety of their own very seriously. To the point where I wouldn''t be surprised if the underground levels were as secure as the secret bunkers of major world leaders. ''Or more, considering how much Magic went into the bloody place. It isn''t anything like the cheapo-mansion I got as a bribe or the house we got when we moved here. Each one of those bricks has more Magic in them than the entire foundations of both my homes combined. I wouldn''t be surprised if it could take a couple of nukes without so much as a scratch.'' I felt my mind going back to the notions of safety I currently had for my family and once more determined that we had to move. ''They may call me paranoid, but the old man isn''t stupid. If he thought going this far might be necessary, then anything less is taking undue risk.'' I clenched my hands into fists and vowed to get a fatter payment for all those tones of food I was growing each passing day, in addition to the bribe that would undoubtedly come as payment for whatever escapade Carlyle had in store for tonight. ''Maybe the panda smuggling wasn''t such a bad idea after all.'' I mused. ''Should probably ask Elsie to cut me into whatever scheme she thought of next. If pandas were possible, then I''m fairly sure I could do the same for other endangered animals.'' Those ploys would have to wait until later though. We entered the house through the front door after being buzzed in. Elsie handing off the basket of pandas off to a serving man with the air of a refined lady giving up her coat or the keys to daddy''s car. The employee then passed it along to another, younger girl. One who looked to be about mine or Elsie''s age. Like the older man, she had shining blond hair. Not unlike that of Mercy. However, the two of them would never be mistaken for each other. Mercy was someone who radiated Magic, even at level 1. In contrast, neither of these two seemed to radiate anything at all. I took a second look at the man in question and forced myself to maintain a neutral expression. ''Weak.'' Pool-Cecil hissed in my ear. ''Pathetic. It does not even have a Core.'' ''They are people. Neither of them are an it.'' I chided. ''Less than a slave.'' Pool-Cecil insisted. ''We should offer up some of our units to the old man. They can do anything these wastrels can, while being more or less as strong as we are right now. That, and we can make them more physically appealing if that is what the old man wishes. This is just sad.'' ''He won''t replace them.'' I thought. ''In a way, them working here is kind of a favor. A kindness.'' ''It would be kinder to slit their throats so that stronger seeds could blossom.'' Pool-Cecil said condescendingly. ''That, or to breed them with stock of some worth. Though I personally wouldn''t bother.'' I squashed the thoughts and kept moving. Going up the stairs and down a bunch of mostly-empty hallways. Until we reached the sound-proof study that belonged to the old patriarch. Elsie touched the doorhandle and creaked it open. And then we both wished she hadn''t. "... and you have to apologize yesterday! You can''t say those kinds of things in public you decrepit old fart! Japan is one of the strongest economies in the world! Have you heard of social media!? Have you seen the clips that got out!? You''re gonna tank the freaking company!?" James Robertson''s voice rang out. "I will do no such thing! I have nothing to apologize for!" Carlyle roared in indignation. "And how DARE you take their side! After all your mother and her family went through! After all I went through! You unfilial son!" There was a groan of frustration and then a deep, sad sigh. "That was almost a hundred years ago you senile imbecile! You''re on Chirper picking fights with people whose parents weren''t even conceived back then! You have to apologize right now before our stock tanks even further!" "That doesn''t matter! I''ll never forgive the Japanese! Never!" I thought that was the wildest thing I was going to hear that night. I was wrong. "And why would you want me to forgive them anyways!? Have you seen how they act!? Have you seen the filthy smut they watch!?" Carlyle Robertson. Patriarch of the Robertson clan and one of the most influential and dangerous people in the world, picked up the cover of a lamp and placed it on his head. Then he went one step further by pulling on the corners of his eyes and doing a silly little dance. "Herro! Rook at me! I wake up and deny war crime! Hu hiuck! I get sent to other worrd and get cheat powa and act rike entitred degenerate! Kya! Oni-chan!" I fell forward on my face. Sent tumbling by the sheer audacity of the old man''s words. Both old men looked at me. James Robertson with a horrified expression. Carlyle Robertson with his fingers still pulling at the corners of his eyes and a lamp cover on his head. I stared up at them both. Mouth hanging open in astonishment. None of us spoke for a good two minutes. Then, with a self-reproachful grunt, Carlyle Robertson took the lamp cover off his head, placed it back on the lamp and looked at his son. "Is what I would say if the allegations were true. Which they aren''t. I love and respect all people equally and I would never be prejudiced against anybody." I blinked several times in quick succession, but otherwise said nothing. Then I looked at James and saw that he had fallen backwards. Supporting himself against the massive oaken desk with a hand plastered on his face. I looked back at Elsie and saw that she had both hands on her face. Her blush still managing to peek out despite that. ''Tell him that we want 20 million in exchange for our silence.'' Pool-Cecil purred. ''No. Better make it 50 million. That gives us somewhere to go in the negotiations.'' "Anyway." Carlyle Robertson began again. "Hope you didn''t have plans for Halloween Cecil! Because we''re going to the saddest place on Earth for a wild party!" "This room?" I blurted out. Carlyle laughed. "No silly! Much, much worse! Pack your bags cause we''re going to Detroit!" Chapter 74: The Saddest Place on Earth. ¡°No! No! Not Detroit! No! Not Detroit! NO! NOOOOO! LET ME GOOO!!¡± ¡°Oh shut up Casper!¡± Carlyle shouted. ¡°It¡¯s not like I¡¯m asking you to live there! Besides! You can teleport! That and with your level, it doesn¡¯t matter how many gangbangers shoot up your car! If they even shoot up your car! It¡¯s been ten years since that happened. I doubt it¡¯ll happen again. So get in the car and teleport us there already!¡± Casper was not having it. He kicked and buckled ferociously. Fighting and twisting against coach Russell and James Robertson¡¯s grip like a snake in the jaws of a mongoose. ¡°I¡¯m not going there! You can¡¯t make me!¡± He teleported a few meters away and began to sprint, until coach Homer tackled him from the back and put him in a chokehold. I stared throughout the whole thing. Saying nothing. Until I started inching over to Elsie. ¡°Is Detroit really that bad?¡± I asked her quietly. ¡°Nah.¡± She said with confidence. ¡°At least, not the nicer parts of town. You¡¯re not likely to get shot around the hotel where we have rooms.¡± She was nodding along her own words, as if to convince herself. ¡°As for the place where grandpa wants you to put the Dungeon, well¡­ Hard to say. But you don¡¯t have to worry about that in any case. Not with our stats. The two of us could get hit by a speeding truck and it wouldn¡¯t be enough to kill us. Mess us up, yes. But not to kill us. You don¡¯t have to worry about someone with an assault rifle or a handgun. If they had a couple of anti-tank rifles lying around well¡­ that would be something. But I don¡¯t think you need to worry as things stand right now.¡± ¡°You know, that fact that you casually mentioned those guys down south walking around with assault rifles isn¡¯t making me feel any better.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fiiineee! I¡¯m just exaggerating things to tease you. We won¡¯t get shot at. Probably. At least, not when we¡¯re close to the hotel and the venue in general.¡± ¡°Right, so what¡¯s this party anyway?¡± ¡°An emergency economic forum.¡± She said with some mischief. ¡°Relating to food and farming equipment. A few manufacturers are in trouble because they¡¯ve been putting lots and lots of computers into their tractors and then charging outrageous prices through a monopoly to repair those tractors. It was a problem when the harvests were running as normal, and food prices were more or less stable across the first world. Now, things are so bad that farms have been failing and going bankrupt left right and center. Those companies that had squeezed the farmers are finding themselves squeezing stones. Or worse, the bankers that held the deeds for the farms. Those farm equipment companies are therefore extending loans to new farmers so they don¡¯t go belly up right away, while also looking to sell to farms that are actually shelling out produce.¡± ¡°Meaning us.¡± I said at once. ¡°Meaning us.¡± She agreed. ¡°But you¡¯ve been creating more and better drones from the Dungeon in North Korea to help with the farms. They and the new townsfolk getting Cores there mean that we have all the manpower we need. The tractors might have helped regular farmers who can¡¯t afford to have thousands of monsters working around the clock for no pay, but it¡¯s a waste for us.¡± ¡°Not to mention the fact that the first ten floors have been turned into massive farms of their own.¡± I reasoned. ¡°With how much we¡¯re producing, what we need is more teleporters and trucks. Not tractors.¡± ¡°Exactly. Which is one of the reasons we¡¯re going to this conference.¡± ¡°The other being to start another Alaskan incident with my weaker monsters.¡± I said with confidence. ¡°True, true, but there is another reason besides that.¡± Elsie urged. ¡°Care to guess?¡± ¡°Well, I don¡¯t think there¡¯s any kind of natural Dungeon around those parts. I think the Dungeons in the US are deeper inland.¡± ¡°True again, but I see that you¡¯re getting closer.¡± I thought about it some more. Recalling the history of the city as best I could. I knew it had been a hub of manufacturing, once upon a time. And that several car companies had made their homes there. Using the precious metals around the area in conjunction to the proximity to the lakes and rivers there to boost trade. Building train stations and sending cars all throughout the states. I knew from documentaries that in the 50s, the place had been one of the nicest cities in the world. With a higher standard of living than most cities in the United States. After that, one company after another had left and with them, went the wealth and power of Detroit. The last pictures I¡¯d seen had been on the news, where some serial killer called the Detroit Cannibal had been hacking young women to pieces and leaving their torsos in bushes and in front of run-down houses, while presumably consuming some of the organs.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. The police had sworn up and down that they¡¯d caught their man and that their reign of terror was at an end. They had claimed the same thing with the second man they¡¯d caught, after the murders continued and then they had repeated the debacle with a third and fourth man. That had been the case when my family first came here to Dunstonberry. If the whispers I¡¯d caught from Oscar were to be believed, they were up to the ninth suspect as of last week. With little in the way of progress. ¡°Are we going there to catch the serial killer?¡± ¡°No.¡± She said. Suddenly becoming sullen and downcast. ¡°The police are looking for a man. But they¡¯re imbeciles. The real killer, the first Detroit Cannibal, was a woman when great-grandpa Carlyle lived. Though no one ever found out her name or who she was. She had the 4th Stage Core, [Chimera], and used it to turn into a sort of werewolf, with a scorpion¡¯s stinger for a tail. She was strong, but not nearly as strong as you. Great-grandpa Carlyle killed her, in 2026, but by then her victims had grown into the hundreds. Apparently, her head never turned back and the DNA tests were inconclusive, so we still don¡¯t know who she was. Grandpa and dad and a bunch of family members make it a point to go over to the city every now and then. Hoping to catch an errant thought but it¡¯s of no use. Great-granpa says there¡¯s a good chance she was one of the first people to ever have Magic and that it was her [Bloodlust] Skill that drove her to murder. So it¡¯s completely possible she¡¯s going around killing normal people as a level 1 or 2 even as we speak.¡± ¡®Fool.¡¯ Pool-Cecil hissed. ¡®Abandoned her wits to her stomach. Fool indeed. She would have done better to brace herself and get as strong as she could manage, before making herself known. She picks fights in hubris. Thinking the mortals are all she has to fear. A big fish in a small pond. Only when you are strong beyond all other challenges, can you afford to indulge in baser desires. We should kill her now, before she is discovered. Her life and example may serve to push normal against us, if they were to make the connection. Dispose of her quietly and without fuss. The police have obviously been guessing. Let them keep guessing.¡¯ ¡°Well that¡¯s absolutely horrifying.¡± I blurted out. Though not at Pool-Cecil for once. ¡°And you¡¯re telling me we¡¯re not going to try and catch her?¡± Elsie shrugged. ¡°I mean, we will try Cecil. We¡¯re not heartless.¡± ¡°It isn¡¯t about being heartless. My Skill just told me something that makes a lot of sense. We¡¯re a couple of years from showing Magic to the world at large. How do you think the average 9 to 5 worker in a factory is going to react when they learn that there¡¯s a serial killer using Magic and that she¡¯s been active for years? We should catch her right the frick now and save ourselves the trouble.¡± ¡°And we will.¡± Elsie assured me. ¡°But that is a more long-term goal. Right now, we¡¯re looking to make significant material gains.¡± She poked my side jovially. ¡°Care to guess again?¡± I thought of her words and of the things I¡¯d heard just now. Putting two and two together. ¡°You want to buy a whole lot of farmlands from the owners who¡¯ve gone bankrupt.¡± I mused aloud. ¡°From Detroit itself, and from anyone else that might be attending the conference. Our own farm in North Korea is putting out enough produce to feed tens of millions every week, but the world has a lot more people that need to be fed, and the shortfalls are only going to keep increasing the more conventional farms keep failing. By buying up those farms, not only can we get more food out to people that need it, but we can also potentially recruit more people into the conspiracy at the last minute and give them Cores worth a damn.¡± ¡°And the press.¡± Elsie chided. ¡°Don¡¯t forget the press.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± I muttered. ¡°Now that you mention it, Carlyle did say that a lot of people had a lot of questions as to where the food was coming from.¡± I turned to her. ¡°Don¡¯t you think they¡¯ll see what¡¯s going on once the Magic apples and melons and barley start springing up in seconds?¡± ¡°Only if we put in as much Magic as we¡¯re using in the Dunegon town.¡± She corrected. ¡°We won¡¯t need to concentrate so much farming into so little terrain if we buy it out normally. We just need to grow crops at the same rate or slightly faster than before. Giving them enough Magic that they don¡¯t fail, while keeping up appearances. The FDA will get their inspections, including DNA tests and the local states will get their pound of flesh in the form of taxes and generous job postings. We will have to buy farm equipment for those farms too, though grandpa James had balked about the prospect of buying those fancy new tractors. We¡¯ve actually started our own company to take care of that, though not under our own name.¡± ¡°Who owns that company then?¡± I asked her. She replied by smiling and showing me an article from a newspaper. ¡°Fowler Fieldworks opens new factory in Kentucky. 20, 000 jobs created.¡± The picture showed uncle Uter. Smiling stiffly. Clasping the hand of another man who seemed far too happy to be there. ¡°Holy cow.¡± I blurted out. ¡°Yeah, we actually considered that as the name of the company, but your uncle didn¡¯t like it.¡± I was about to say something else, when Carlyle and James dragged a beaten and despairing Casper over. And from there, a flash came over us. So that we found ourselves in the middle of a deserted street. ¡°See Casper?¡± Carlyle cooed. ¡°It wasn¡¯t so bad was i¡­¡± ¡°Hands up! Gimme everything you got!¡± A voice shouted from the side. We all turned as one. To find a group of seven men and women. Each holding a pistol and showing expressions that would have cured constipation. ¡°Get away from the car old man!¡± Another man shouted. Even as he rushed over, placed his hand on the handle through the open window and opened the door. He was inside the vehicle within the span of a blink and from there, he was off. The car screeching into motion and disappearing down the road. Carlyle and James Robertson stared after it. Faces frozen solid in a mask of incredulity. Casper¡¯s face, in contrast, was nothing but righteous vindication. ¡°I told you! You shouldn¡¯t have left the keys in the car!¡± ¡°Ah. Um. Hum. Ah.¡± Carlyle spoke. ¡°Hey! Wipe the drool from your face old man! Gimme everything you have or¡­!¡± I [Spawned] a tide of roaches within the span of a second. Sending them rushing at the remaining six with all the speed that 3 levels granted them. I explicitly ordered them to avoid inflicting wounds and to simply crawl over them. Yet the screams that erupted were such that people nearby might have guessed the Cannibal was at work. They snapped the two elder Robertsons and Elsie from their stupor and they swiftly sent psychic bolts to the would-be robbers. Pinning them to the floor as they lost consciousness. Throughout the event, all the nearby houses had their lights on, though no one had come out to check. Now, those lights went out, one by one. And no one seemed likely to come out any time soon. Chapter 75: Getting Back the Car. Plus Interest. The people behind the heavy metal sheets of the old garage were whispering in excitement. Going round and round their prize in hushed, quick voices that would have been inaudible to anyone with normal human senses. Sadly for them, our party was composed of people who were level 3 plus. And one of those people was very fond of that one specific car. James Robertson stomped his way over to the doors. His face a mask of reddish hues and his cheeks so puffed up that I could almost see steaming bellows escaping from his ear like in cartoons from the 50s. He knocked on one of the garage doors. Loudly, but not loudly enough to leave a dent in the metal or send the bloody thing flying. ¡®He has a remarkable amount of self-control.¡¯ I observed. ¡®I just got to level 3 and I don¡¯t think I could have kept my body from leaving a crater.¡¯ While I didn¡¯t know what his level was, I knew that it must have been quite high, if he trained regularly with people like Russell and Homer. If someone like that went all-out, I suspected the garage itself might be sent into orbit. Along with the other abandoned burnt-out buildings scattered over the abandoned shopping centre. The voices inside the garage went dead as soon as the rich man made his move. Then the phone I¡¯d taken from the other criminals started buzzing. I pulled it from the pocket of the suit and unlocked it with the password the victi¡­ I mean the crook¡­ had provided. ¡°Yo dude. Is that u?¡± I looked at Elsie, Carlyle and James and nodded. James knocked again and spoke up. ¡°Your friends are okay.¡± He said, calmly. ¡°All of them are alive and here with us. They¡¯ll even be able to walk again someday. Probably. Maybe.¡± He cut himself off and took a deep gulp of air. ¡°Look. I don¡¯t care that you steal cars. I really don¡¯t. But what you have there is an original 1962 Shelby Cobra. I don¡¯t mean to be rude, but that car is literally worth more than this entire neighborhood several times over. I promise we won¡¯t hurt you if you walk out and give us back our car.¡± I could hear movement from inside now. Drawers opening and what sounded suspiciously like guns being cocked. James must have heard it too, because he signaled for me to come forward. I picked up one of the prisoners and brought him to his feet. Ripping off the tape from his mouth and growing a blade of bone from the hand behind him. I didn¡¯t even need to say anything. ¡°LET THE CAR GOOOOOOO!!!¡± The man wailed. ¡°EL ES EL DIABLO!! NOS VAN A MATAR A TODOS!! DEJALO!!!¡± I looked back to the garage and waited. The sounds of guns being cocked had stopped, but the sounds of footsteps soon replaced them. I could hear the people on the other side taking positions and then stopping. Their movements making it plain that there was going to be a fight. ¡°Man.¡± I whispered. ¡°You have some really shitty friends.¡± Then I allowed some of Pool-Cecil to slip into me and grew a few more roaches from my hands. Letting the guy feel them crawling up his back while I pressed the bone dagger forwards. Finishing it off by adding another whisper. ¡°If that car gets so much as a single dent, then you, your friends and your girlfriends are all about to get second belly buttons.¡± ¡°LEEEEET IIIIT GOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!¡± He howled like a madman. ¡°LET IT GOOOO!!! OH SANTA MARIA!!! HE¡¯S GOT THE ROACHES AGAIN!!! FOR THE LOVE OF GOOOOOOD LET IT GO!!!¡± Elsie looked my way and shook her head sadly. I shrugged and sent a dozen Shotgunlings forward. Backed up by six Saboteurs, six Venomlings, a couple of Siege Spiders and a swarm of Burrower Roaches. Not long after, the metal doors started going up and after that, the shots started to ring out. All of them being absorbed by the new and improved forms of my units. To the point where even I was surprised. ¡°Holy cow. They aren¡¯t even piercing the exoskeletons.¡± I muttered. ¡°Well duh.¡± Elsie commented from the side. ¡°A bunch of small caliber bullets shot from probably illegal and badly maintained guns against a layer of super-chitin? I could have told you that.¡± I shrugged once more and then sent the roaches in with a flicker of willpower. Half a heartbeat later, the bullets stopped. And then, the screams began to flow back in. Loud and wild and terrible. Wails of deep, dreadful despair, tinged with surprise. The man in my grip sobbed. Salty tears flowing freely from his yes while the rest of his posse wriggled in their webbing. James Robertson walked forwards. Magic flaring up slightly so as to knock his targets prone without making their heads pop like overgrown pimples. He too was crying soon thereafter. Letting out quiet sobs over the husk of an American muscle car that had obviously been stripped of parts.Stolen story; please report. ¡°You bloody fools.¡± He said after some time. ¡°This was the first car I ever owned. I saved up for two years to be able to afford a downpayment.¡± He placed a soft hand on one of the nearby benches. ¡°This was the car we used after our wedding. And the one we used to bring Charles home from the hospital. You stupid bastards. Who in their right mind would strip a relic like this one for parts?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think they can hear you grandpa.¡± Elsie commented. ¡°Right son. I understand why you¡¯d be upset, but there¡¯s no point in harping on this any further.¡± Carlyle followed up. He stopped to rest his own hand on another striped car. A Toyota Corolla which looked to be in altogether better shape. Then the old man¡¯s eyes stopped on the car¡¯s identifying mark, after which he removed his hand. Stopping just long enough to withdraw a bottle of hand sanitizer from his pocket and squirting some of it on his hands. My jaw dropped, but no one else seemed to notice. ¡°I warned you.¡± Casper repeated. ¡°I warned you all this would happen. But did you listen? No. Why would anybody listen to me? It¡¯s not like I grew up in this city. It¡¯s not like I know what I¡¯m talking about. It¡¯s not like¡­¡± ¡°Yes Casper. Thank you.¡± Carlyle stopped him curtly. ¡°Now if you would be so kind as to teleport all the parts and all our new friends back to town? It would be most appreciated.¡± ¡°What are you gonna do about the people we caught?¡± I asked. ¡®I could use some more test subjects.¡¯ Pool-Cecil purred. ¡®The girl needs us to do more testing too. If she wants her dreams to come true. We could take the prisoners to our Dungeon. Nobody is likely to miss this lot. Their families, if they have families, will probably be glad to be rid of them. Nobody needs to know.¡¯ Carlyle gave me a quick shrug. ¡°We don¡¯t have any way to erase memories yet so they¡¯ll go to the correctional facility in town. After that, I don¡¯t know. It isn¡¯t as though any of them got a good look at us. Them being normal humans with normal vision and all.¡± He moved to a side table and eyed a few baggies filled with suspect powders and crystals. ¡°We can probably leave them knocked out in a bench somewhere along with their merchandize. The police will pick them up and charge them. Or not. I mean, what are they going to do? Tell them Conan the barbarian sent a wave of roaches their way and trapped them in webbing?¡± Casper snorted, but said nothing further. ¡°You know¡­¡± Elsie began. ¡°I¡¯ve been keeping an eye out for the location and it¡¯s pretty decent for what we want. I mean, isolated space in the middle of the city. No one around for blocks. Easy road access for all the authorities once the monsters start showing up. Little chance of fires spreading to other parts of town¡­ Yeah.¡± She nodded to herself. ¡°This could work.¡± Carlyle clapped as soon as she was finished. ¡°Excellent observation Elsie! Way to turn your grandfather¡¯s frown upside down! We¡¯ll start the process right away and then we¡¯ll make our way over to the party. Casper, if you¡¯d be so kind as to bring Cecil¡¯s Dungeon Core over from Korea?¡± Casper didn¡¯t look pleased in the slightest, but complied. The parts of James¡¯s car had already been taken, alongside the people and now he came back with a Core that was five times the size of my own body. A colossal, uneven crystal that pulsed like a beating heart. Sending saturating waves of Magic out into the air as soon as it emerged into the garage. I choked on my own spit. Even as Pool-Cecil started slavering like a starving hound. ¡®Mine. Mine. Miiineee. MINE! MINE! MINE! MINE!¡¯ I choked him out of what little Magic he had flowing in the Skill and forced him to slink back in the recesses of my mind. Then I placed a hand on the Dungeon Core and asked it to begin changing the garage around us. Within seconds, the walls and floors were covered in moss and mushrooms and hardened crystalline walls of amethyst and opal. Within minutes, the ground had opened up and started transforming into a wide spiraling staircase. With steps that ran half a meter in width and that went down and down and down into an abyssal darkness. Within an hour, two entire floors had been created. The first being a maze of solid stone and half a hundred hallways that looped around and went up and over or down and under other passages. Some hallways being as wide as six meters and some being as small as two from wall to wall. The second was a great open space. Reminiscent of the 12th floor in the Dunstonberry Dungeon. Complete with Sky Shrooms and Sniperlings hiding in crevices along the walls and Venomlings scurrying in burrows beneath the fungal roots. Both floors had ceilings completely covered with glowing vines and fluorescent gemstones so that normal people could at least see two-feet in front of them and both floors were set to creating units at level 1. With the actual power being concentrated in the chambers leading directly to the Core. ¡°Right then.¡± I said aloud. ¡°This should do for now. I set the Core to keep digging and I created a Broodmother to keep spawning stronger units to keep the Core protected. It should all be ready to blow by the time we¡¯re at the party.¡± Carlyle and James nodded in satisfaction. The former glowing with expectation while the latter still seemed saddened by his car. Casper looked more worried than anything, but he appeared more concerned by the cars that kept stopping outside the abandoned shopping center than the mission. Regardless, he teleported in a Jaguar shortly thereafter and we were off to the party as a group. Yet, strangely enough, I found myself agreeing with Casper more and more as time passed. It was, I don¡¯t know. Unnerving. The streets were barren and bare. Devoid of both cars and pedestrians for the most part. Three out of every five houses had broken windows and run down, rusting cars on the lawns. The remaining two out of five had either a bunch of fencing stationed around their homes or signs that cheerfully recounted how many people had been shot and killed for trespassing. That or bragged about the savage ferocity of their dogs. Speaking of dogs, I considered myself a bit of a fan. Of all kind of dogs, regardless of reputation. Yet I couldn¡¯t help but notice how hostile the barking and the glaring was for those that bothered to react at all. We were stopped at a light on a dirty, broken two lane road, when someone jumped out from the shadows. A disheveled, half-mad person with eyes as wide as saucers. ¡°Ya got veggies man?¡± The gentleman asked at once. Slamming his open palms against my window. ¡°Uh, what?¡± I muttered in confusion. ¡°The magic veggies man! The magic veggies! The apples and the melons and the potatoes!¡± He smacked his lips with his tongue. Loudly. All while heaving heavily and misting up the glass. ¡°I haven¡¯t had a magic veggie in five days man! I can¡¯t stand it! Come on man! Gimme an apple or something! I see your muscles! I know you eat the good fruit! Gimme some greens man! I¡¯ll do anything man! I¡¯ll suck¡­!¡± Carlyle stepped on the gas. Launching the car forwards and running the red light. The pedestrian fell sideways as we sped off. Landing on the asphalt with a loud oomph. I stared after him. Aghast. And noticed how toned his exposed abs and biceps were before we turned the next corner. My head snapped to the Robertsons. ¡°What the frick was that!?¡± ¡°What was what?¡± Carlyle asked back. ¡°Don¡¯t play dumb with me old fart! That guy looked like he was withdrawing! And he looked like a bodybuilder! Those are not groups that have much of an overlap!¡± ¡°Well actually¡­¡± Elsie started. I shushed her. ¡°What was that?¡± I insisted. ¡°Oh come now Cecil. I don¡¯t know what you want me to say. Your products are very healthy and¡­ transformative. Is it any wonder that people are drawn to them?¡± ¡°That guy was withdrawing!¡± ¡°You don¡¯t know that.¡± Caryle protested. ¡°At least, you don¡¯t know that it was because of the food. He could have been on any number of drugs. Heck. Look around you and tell me that this doesn¡¯t look like the kind of place where people do lots of drugs.¡± My jaw hit the floor for the second time that night and I was stuck playing that scene in my head on repeat. My heart already dreading the conclusions I¡¯d come to. Chapter 76: Melodrama. Before setting out on this little expedition, Elsie had assured me that the venue would be both safe and free of gunshots. The streets leading up to the venue proved her a big fat liar. The very moment we entered what I assumed was one of the main streets leading to the downtown area, the air became alive with the sounds of gunfire. Loud and obnoxious and terrible out in the far distance. A few were so far away that you would have had to be a superhuman of high level to pick them up. But a couple were disturbingly close. One of them even shattering the window of a storefront we passed. The bodega was placed in a small, ancient building made of wood and old decaying plaster. The exterior had been a colorful light blue, once upon a time, but now the paint was falling down in crumpled fistfuls of dried, stale stuffing. The window had not been down for a full minute, before a pair of sour-looking white guys in heavy trench coats rushed in and kicked in the remaining glass with what must have been steel-toed boots. Green coat then fumbled about his backpack for a small crowbar. Using it like a club and swatting away the few remaining edged panels with gusto. Red coat didn¡¯t bother. Leaping into the gap, only to get his fat head stuck between a pair of solid iron bars which had not been visible to them up to that point. Red coat cursed, but his head was well and truly lodged in. To make matters worse, Green coat didn¡¯t seem like he¡¯d be helping anytime soon. He fumbled in his backpack once more. Perhaps looking for some tool he could use to weld his way past the bars, when a resounding crack bit through the gunshots. Read coat fell backwards. His skull now a much brighter shade of red than his attire as blood flowed freely from his deformed face. More gunshots rang out from the store and Green coat fell over backwards. His own chest leaking that red liquid, so that the streams intermixed in the blackness of the night. Two pedestrians took pictures with their phones. One of then snickered. But none of them so much as paused their stride. Their eyes glazing over the soon to be corpses as if they were no more than pieces of furniture someone had thrown out. The storeowner, or the person I assumed was the storeowner, soon came out as well. I had thought¡­ or hoped, that he was in the process of calling the police. Instead, he scanned the streets and shooed away what few people were outside. Once he was sure the cameras were off, he loaded the gun again in one swift motion and put three bullets on each man. Two in the chest, close to the heart and one in the face. Between their eyes. Only then did he pull out his phone and dial 911. My ears picking up bits of the conversation that suggested he was pinning the whole thing on a gangbang shooting. ¡°HOLY SHIT!¡± I barked out. ¡°That guy just killed two people out in the open!¡± I yelled once I¡¯d picked up my jaw from the floor. ¡°He just killed them right there!¡± ¡°Yes. Cecil. I know. I have eyes.¡± James Robertson groaned. ¡°Now now James. Cecil is right. This should not be commonplace. Not this soon in any case. And not here in what¡¯s supposed to be the first world. You could at least pretend to be a bit more upset.¡± Carlyle chastised. ¡°The first world.¡± James snorted. ¡°People in North Korea are eating better.¡± That truth was plain to see. What few sidewalks were bereft of soiled, overflowing bags of garbage and human refuse, were filled to the brim with people. Some were in tents, but most were huddled together in sleeping bags or ripped-up comforters. Their colors having long since been extinguished in favor of yellow and brown stains and burn marks. Yet as bad as their situation looked, it somehow managed to smell worse. I had cranked down the window only half a centimeter and only for half a moment, but that had been more than enough for the stink of raw, unwashed humanity to overwhelm me. My mouth now making choking sounds as I my mind reeled and my eyes swam. ¡®Sweet Buddha! What the frick was that!?¡¯ I asked myself. ¡®How is it possible that it smells even worse than the Digestive Pools? How is it that literal monsters being dissolved into their basic parts managed to smell less bad? Frick me! The bloody roaches don¡¯t smell this bad!¡¯ I looked again and noted even more alarming aspects in the crowd. Such as the way the people who were still dressed like¡­ well¡­ people¡­ went about their walks without ever looking at those laying on the road. Their eyes seeming to avert themselves and gaze upwards or downwards or sideways so as to magically keep themselves free of the suffering around them.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. When I stared in turn, I began to notice other things as well. Like the fact that there were almost no fat people on the street. Now, that was kinda weird, because obesity had been a problem even back in Canada. Not to the extent that I kept hearing about in the states, but it was still noticeable. If I were being honest, I was more or less expecting one in every ten people down here to be obese. With maybe one in ten of those being like those guys I saw on the weight loss reality TV shows where they hunkered down on a treadmill for a week. But no. The people I saw, the ones walking around anyway, were all fit as a fiddle. In fact, most of them looked like they ran marathons on the regular and their faces had that telltale glow of abnormal healthiness that could only have come from one place. ¡°Hey Mr. Robertson¡­ Caryle. When you said that the food had helped a lot and that it had become pretty popular¡­ what uh¡­ to what degree are we talking about?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s just say the FDA is VERY interested in how we grow the stuff and where and leave it at that.¡± He replied curtly. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry. It¡¯s not a bad thing or anything. Again, I cannot put any more stress on how important feeding the people of the world is. It is true that some or most of the western governments have blocked our food shipments and it is true that most of the food we grow is going towards less fortunate regimes, but the more food we drop into those countries, the more food is available for the rest of the populace. At cheaper prices too. This¡­¡± His right hand left the steering wheel for a second as he waved. ¡°This is not as bad as it seems. Again, there were food riots and mass civil unrest back in the original timeline. The food situation here may be precarious, and that may be affecting the job situation and the overall health of the city, but this is Detroit. It wasn¡¯t much better ten or five years ago.¡± ¡°Oh my goodness!¡± Casper yelled in faux-incredulity. ¡°Carlyle telling the truth! Must not be a day that ends in y.¡± ¡°Shut up Casper.¡± James groaned. ¡°You aren¡¯t making things better.¡± ¡°Yes, because Cecil was never going to realize that magic food is always better than regular food and that it comes as a shock to people not used to magic food.¡± Casper spoke again. Then he looked at me. ¡°Don¡¯t worry your pretty little head Cecil. Carlyle and James have it all under control. They claim this was always going to happen you see. Only much more slowly since the original timeline didn¡¯t have you. They claim that it will all be fine and dandy so long as they can step up production and give all these people jobs. They point at how the rates of infectious diseases and things like Alzheimer¡¯s or heart diseases or cancer have taken a nosedive and say it is all for the good. They point at everyone now being buff and pretty and tell you ignore the addiction because it doesn¡¯t affect people with Cores and because it will not affect anyone who manages to grow a Core.¡± He rolled his eyes. ¡°As far as we know that is. Ignore what your lying eyes are telling you and focus on the nice party and Elsie¡¯s pretty dress.¡± ¡°Hey!¡± Elsie complained. ¡°What are you trying to say about my dress?¡± Casper ignored her. ¡°It might get better.¡± He allowed. ¡°It might not. Last time, there were only about 7000 people with Cores worth a damn. Make sure you see what your actions have led to and think for yourself. That¡¯s all you can hope for right now.¡± ¡°Well aren¡¯t you a ray of sunshine.¡± Carlyle quipped. ¡°Perhaps you can entertain us by discussing how the economy is going over by the rust belt with all those dust storms. Or perhaps you can bring up how the suicide rates have gone up and how many people are getting their homes foreclosed. Are you going to blame those things on us too? Or are you going to mention how much work we¡¯ve done to keep soup kitchens stocked and people in their homes? Are you going to mention the relief funds and the banks we¡¯ve bought out to re-negotiate those mortgages and keep people housed? Hmn? Are you going to mention the new re-enforced complexes we¡¯re building and the condos we¡¯re flogging for pennies on the dollar so that people aren¡¯t helpless when the monsters come?¡± Carlyle narrowed his eyes. Something I could see from the rear-view mirror. ¡°I never said this would be a walk in the park, Casper. Not once. I am out there negotiating with people I despise on the regular and pretending that I give a monkey¡¯s wet fart about what they think to keep the damn world running. You say things are bad? Of course they are you imbecile! It¡¯s the literal low decline of society leading to the end of the world! What were you expecting! A few sharp drops in living standards, followed by a slow recovery?¡± He made to spit, but then seemed to realize he was still in his expensive Jag. ¡°Well then. Take a good hard look, because this is what the best possible scenario looks like. My original plan had us hoarding preserved food for ourselves and leaving most of the states to the dogs and the roaming biker bandit gangs and the freaking cannibals! At least the people you see out there are alive Casper. At least they¡¯re not eating each other! At least their bellies aren¡¯t distended and they can still find something to put on the table every now and then! Now stop complaining. If you have a better plan, then I¡¯m all ears! Please. I beg you. I will pay you billions for a better solution right now, with my dead wife as my witness. But if you don¡¯t have anything useful to say, then you can shut your trap and go back to town. I¡¯ll call you when we¡¯re ready to be picked up.¡± Casper stared at him from his awkward position on the middle seat in the back. Then he nodded stiffly and disappeared with a rush of displaced air. ¡°I swear, that guy gets more melodramatic by the day.¡± Carlyle scoffed derisively. ¡°As if I could be held responsible for all of society¡¯s woes?¡± I gave Elsie a sideways look, but otherwise said nothing. Instead choosing to keep peering outside. My eyes finding the window just in time to see a car pull up to a group of clustered tents. Whereupon someone in the back threw out a bucket full of dirty brown water all over the huddled masses. The car sped off, but only for a second or so. Someone in the crowd had apparently taken offense and they had chosen that time to pull out a freaking AK out of who-knows-where. Five of the shots went into the rear window. Puncturing and sending splatters of blood throughout the inside of the vehicle. Two more found the wheels and the driver soon lost control. Crashing the beat-up van into a light post and smashing the frontal compartment. A few dozen people rose up from their collection of belongings and made haste towards the car. Looting blood-stained clothes and wallets and even more guns from the occupants, before going back to pick up their things and scampering in all directions. James had averted his eyes. Carlyle hadn¡¯t even taken his eyes off the road in the first place. Chapter 77: Venues, Bugs and the Channel 6 News. The venue and its surroundings were nothing like the rest of the city. Where the other streets had been utterly sundered and filled with throngs of human masses wallowing in their misery, the streets of the downtown proper were more or less pristine. Or at least on par, if not slightly better than those of Toronto. The businesses here were not run down. The paint on their walls was not flaking off and coming apart. Their windows were not re-enforced with iron or steel bars. Nor had the windows been replaced with cardboard or layers of woods nailed together. ¡®Though those windows do look rather thick.¡¯ I mused. ¡®Probably bullet-proof glass. Or whatever the better variant of bullet-proof glass is.¡¯ Even the street-facing walls were suspiciously bereft of graffiti. To the point where they looked much nicer and cleaner than those of the neighborhood I had grown up in. However, a closer inspection yielded more information. Many of those clean walls appeared as though they had been recently repainted. Some sporting the tell-tale signs of having been painted over more than once in short order. The street corners too seemed to have been recently cleaned up. The base of the light posts still sporting yellow-brown stains that screamed of leaky plastic bags overflowing with all kinds of refuse. Case in point, I did not fail to notice a few rats wandering around those places. Noses sniffing the ground as if they were outraged that someone had taken their homes and late dinners. ¡°I guess the city¡¯s trying to draw in more business.¡± I commented. ¡°Honestly, it¡¯s all they can do.¡± Carlyle answered. ¡°Things are bad everywhere, but they are much, much worse here. The city was already struggling before, but the crisis came like a kick in the teeth. This conference wasn¡¯t even going to happen for another few months. But the mayor was tripping over herself in order to get us in and talking about expanding the local agricultural sector. She¡¯s hoping a renewal will bring a few factories back or otherwise propel local businesses up in profits and facilitate their expansion. She¡¯s not wrong to think that and it is what I had in mind too. But she¡¯s hoping that me and a bunch of other rich tycoons are going to invest heavily in this one city. She is in for a rather big disappointment as far as our goals are concerned. I¡¯ll be expanding our businesses all over the globe. Not just here in the states. There¡¯s simply too much to do and not enough manpower to keep the operations running.¡± He went quiet for a second. ¡°That and we REALLY need more food. I know you said you wouldn¡¯t do the mitosis thing and make more of you and I know one of your new siblings is already helping and I can respect the apprehension you have. I won¡¯t push it.¡± He paused again. ¡°But we REALLY need more food. It¡¯s better than the last time, but that¡¯s not saying much. It¡¯s like saying that things aren¡¯t so bad because When the price of food goes up, everybody suffers. When the food isn¡¯t there, it doesn¡¯t matter how much money you¡¯ve got.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know about that pops.¡± James interrupted. ¡°The people lining up over there sure look happy.¡± He was right. Those people walking freely past the police barricades were moving about without a care in the world. Their faces glistening and shining. Their smiles wide and endearing as they strolled about in pristine trendy clothes. If these guys had been rendered addicts by some manner of interaction with my Magic, then they weren¡¯t showing it. Matter of fact, everything they were showing suggested that they were having the time of their lives. Like this place was a fairytale castle in the sky where all their problems could be dropped off at the front door. That impression only grew more and more pronounced when Carlyle slowed the car down and brought it to a stop in front of the hilariously opulent carpet that had been laid down on the sidewalk. ''To better hide all those nasty stains on the pavement no doubt.'' Regardless of the reason, the old man soon handed off the keys to one of many valets out there and then another staff member led us inside. Nobody had stopped to introduce us, but I soon noticed that nobody had to. All the onlooker''s eyes had been glued to our group of four the second our car came to a stop and those very same eyes now tracked us as we passed the double doors. Some were sparing a few glances towards Elsie. A few more were stopping briefly to gape and gawk at the size of my body. Most were not concerned with us however. It was clear from the get-go that the two older men had drawn the most attention, as the many people crowding in and around the buildings stared at them. In the same manner that a bunch of vultures would stare at an obese water buffalo after it got a bit too lost for its own good. I had expected reporters to come dashing in then. Kind of like how they swarmed over celebrities and politicians in movies. No such thing happened. We were not accosted in the hotel''s lobby. Nor were we bothered as we waltzed right past the doors leading to the venue hall. Which was weird, because it looked to me like the party had already started. Again, I''d half expected one of the overly-dressed staff to cough politely and inform the older gentlemen that the party was this way and not where we were going. And again, no such thing happened. The staff there merely nodded graciously and regaled us with practiced smiles as they showed us to the reception desk. ''Oh my goodness. This is sooo weird.'' I cringed internally. ''How so?'' Pool Cecil asked. ''I... I don''t know how to put it into words. It feels like I''m bothering all these people when they all gather around and fuss all over me. It... I don''t know man. It feels fake and wrong. Like... I know this is their job and all but I really can''t help but think I''m coming across as rude when they put on so much effort to pretend like we''re the most important people in the room. I don''t want to be guided around. It feels weird. Like, I get cleaning rooms and all but I don''t need people constantly fussing over me. Does that make sense?''The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ''No.'' Pool Cecil replied curtly. ''This is how we should be treated all the time. Because we are the most important people in the room. By far. The two older men might be stronger. For now. But that will not be the case forever. I do admit that their mind-blending Skill is formidable. But that doesn''t dimmish the fact that this thrice-dammed stone hive is still standing thanks to us. Thanks to our services. Thanks to our awesome might.'' He seemed to get more and more fired up the more he talked. ''I know you have sensed it already. Past the doors we skipped. The signals in that chamber are of the food we grew. The food that our Magic produced for their consumption. To keep them fed and happy and useful. We are being treated like we are better because we are better. The strong will do what they will and the weak will endure what they must. It is the way of things. It has always been the way of things. Tigers do not concern themselves with the opinions of rabbits. Neither should you be concerned about their opinions. They will either do their job and obtain payment or they will not and obtain nothing. What matters beyond that is not your concern. Be proud of what we''ve done for once and revel in the glory. Let yourself be pampered. Let yourself be worshipped. It is only natural that these Core-less fools should know their place.'' Great. ''I wonder if Julian''s therapist is open to new clients?'' Something to consider. The workers behind the reception desk were, if anything, twice as obnoxiously polite as all the other workers. I stood there next to Elsie and watched as the two older men got their rears kissed and their boots licked to the point where both spots should have been shining. And then I had to sit through two solid minutes of both men acting all humbled while also somehow managing to come across as pretentious knobheads. Kind of like them saying things like: "No! No! Please don''t treat me like my farts smell like roses! Even though they absolutely do! Please don''t act like I''m better than you! I mean... I am. But I''m not THAT much better. Oh who are we kidding. Of course we''re that much better! Hiuck! Hiuck! Hiuck!" Mercifully, it all came to an end. So that we were finally able to go up to our rooms. The four of us entered the elevator as one big block and waited. My mind already wandering when Elsie poked me in the side. "They''ve bugged our rooms." She whispered in my ear. My eyes went wide. "Don''t do or say anything out of the ordinary." Her grandfather whispered afterwards. "It''s nothing to be alarmed about. Just a few old competitors getting their claws into some of the new staff. Probably just looking for insider information or blackmail material. Same old same old. There are legitimate cameras here so just act normal and don''t say anything." I clamped my mouth shut. Already cursing the fact that I was the only one here who couldn''t read minds. I quickly strangled Pool Cecil''s errant whispers and allowed the three into my head. ''Why didn''t any of you tell me this would happen!?'' I thought in the most aggressive tone I could think up. ''They usually don''t go this far in public spaces.'' Carlyle''s thoughts streamed in. ''Not in high-class hotels and venues at least. Too many important people from all walks of life come here and not all of them are harmless. Or forgiving for that matter. Ambitious staff members up and disappearing in sudden and mysterious circumstances isn''t something that happens often. But it is something that happens.'' He must have read my suspicious right as I was forming them because he followed up without missing a beat. ''And no. I haven''t had anyone killed or disappeared for trying to spy on me Cecil. Not in like, three decades. And not outside Brazil. Honestly. Who do you think I am?'' I re-summoned Pool-Cecil into my mind because I decided I''d rather not have those opinions read. The other two took the hint as well and we ended up riding the elevator in silence all the way to our floor. Once we got there, I found that each of us had been given their own rooms. With mine being just as nice as everyone else''s. Which meant that it held the kind of opulence that would leave French aristocrats short a head or two back in the day. The bed was massive for once. As was the TV. The bathroom was ample, with a wide tub and tiles hat shone like diamonds. Not only that, but the bathroom also had its own TV. Almost as huge as the one in the room. The rug too felt like stepping on a cloud, while the sheets smelled like actual gardens with how perfumed they were. Too bad I couldn''t enjoy any of it because of the whole spying thing. Instead, I went through the motions we''d discussed on the way here. Taking my suit off in the bathroom and taking a long hot bath. Then following that up by putting on some fancy cologne and putting on a different, much nicer suit I''d been carrying in a luggage bag. Apparently to give the impression that we''d been on the road for hours and that all of us needed to freshen up. Now, this was where I was supposed to kill some time before we all went down together. Maybe by taking a quick power-nap. Sadly, sleep was the furthest thing from my mind at the moment and it wasn''t like I needed to sleep in any case. So, I picked up the remote and turned on the really-too-big TV. "And now we come to you live from Blackhill Detroit. Where a group of concerned citizens claimed they saw a coven of witches being carjacked and mugged. The witnesses claim that they saw the witches casting a spell at their attackers. After their car mysteriously pulled up from nowhere. I''m Jane Holland and this is the Channel 6 news." The Channel 6 news logo flashed on the screen with a flourish. The 3-d Icon moving across a panoramic scene of the city. "Hello Mr... um..." "Slitpipes." The one-eyed, toothless man spoke. "Slitpipes McGee is the name. Been in and outa prison seven times in the last two years and I''ve seen all kinds of holabaloo and witchery! Yes I have sir, yes sireee! Ya''ll should run when you see Slitpipes McGee! Coming fer yee!" "I see. And what did you witness here tonight Mr. McGee?" The man smacked his lips together to make a wet, pulping sound. "It was terrible! Terrible! Those poor fools showed up on this really nice car! And I mean REALLY nice car! Like the ones ma grandpappy used to drive in them fancy races! Not like them Nascar and such mind you. Ma grandpappy drove in them really, really, really fancy races. In places with trees and such! I think it must have been a 1962 Shelby Cobra. If my eyes don''t lie. But I admit, it was dark out there in them streets. What with all them lights having been shot out last week when the Dry Bandits shot that kid who set them on fire. So I could have been wrong." He started shivering for a brief second. Then he turned to the side and inhaled something off-screen. When he came back into focus, his eyes were raw and red and bloodshot. "Anyways. I was going over my horoscope when I saw them. Like poof! Out of nowhere. I gots no idea where them fancy folks came from or where they''d been before showing up. Like poof! The car was just there! And I knew them right there was trouble or my name ain''t Slitpipes McGee! Coming fer yee!" I blinked. Many times in quick succession. "Anyways. I was doing a little bit of baby carrots, the good quality kind, and seeing them folks getting carjacked. When all of the sudden, BAM! There it was! Witchycraft! The biggun used a spell to make roaches rain out of thin air! And then he threw them spell right there and drowned those kids in them roaches! Yes he did! Or my name ain''t Slitpipes McGee! Coming fer yee!" "I see. And did anyone else see this incident Mr. McGee?" "Nope." The old man shook his head. "It was real dark out and folks around here don''t help each other like they used to. People get scared you know? No one took them pictures and no one called them pi... I mean them cops. Not a damn one. And when I started telling people what happened, they started calling me crazy! Imagine that!" "But you did say there were multiple witnesses, right Mr. McGee?" "That''s right! Ma old pal Cindy! She''s a rescue! And I love her like no one else in the world!" He turned to a surprisingly well-fed German shepherd next to him. "Tell them what you saw Cindy!" Cindy wagged her tail. Looking very happy to be there. "I see." The reporter said dryly. Then, with a practiced ease, she turned to the camera. "And there you have it folks. Local man uses too many substances and begins to hallucinate magic. Will he ever recover? Will the police waste resources on this case when there is a serial killer on the loose? Will social services take his dog? More on this story later tonight on Channel 6 News." Chapter 78: Raymond. I did not comment on the news when I came out of my room. Nor did the others. Carlyle moved like a man who had all the confidence in the world. Giving the staff we passed easy smiles and warm glances as we made our way back downstairs. I could not do the same. I was too busy thinking of how stupid I¡¯d been by figuring no one would have seen us due to how dark it was. All while I cursed the three literal mind-readers next to me. ¡®Come on! What!? Were you that surprised that we got carjacked!? You¡¯re supposed to be much more experienced than me! What were you thinking all that time!?¡¯ The only ones I could forgive were James, because he really cared a lot about that car, and Elsie, because she¡¯d been busy keeping her grandfather calm and away from the screaming gang members. But Carlyle was supposed to be this genius who had it all planned out. This kind of lapse was completely unacceptable. ¡®And yet, I was just as blind. Despite literally being able to see in the freaking dark!¡¯ I raged. Not just at how I didn¡¯t notice the old man, but at how I didn¡¯t question how the food I was growing was being used past a few basic questions to uncle Uter. ¡®Idiot. You¡¯re a freaking idiot. Going around and worrying about not having friends and about getting a new and bigger house and about how the quizzes were hard and the teachers weren¡¯t giving you a break. All while society was literally falling apart.¡¯ I held myself back from glaring at the old man. ¡®You should have bought up this farmland months ago you old fart! You could have stopped all of this before it got this bad! What the frick where you thinking!?¡¯ ¡°Carlyle!¡± A weasel-like voice called out from an open elevator. The man that came out to greet us in the hallway, if anything, only cemented the impression I¡¯d gotten from his voice. He was someone well on their way into their mid-life crisis. Roughly late 40s or early 50s. With greying roots tied to dyed black hair on the sides of his head and a toupee that wasn¡¯t fooling anyone on top of it. He looked fit. Or about as fit as anyone else I¡¯d seen tonight, but with a distinct lack of muscle around his arms and torso. Instead, what muscle did show underneath the suit seemed stringy and taught. Like an old rope that was slightly fraying. Overall, he gave the impression of a swimmer or a marathon runner past his prime. One who¡¯d started smoking two-packs a day in memory of his glory days. ¡°Raymond!¡± Carlyle called out in turn. Showing him the kind of smile that would have sent me running for the hills if he turned it in my direction. ¡°How lovely to see you walking about again!¡± Carlyle walked up and clasped the younger man¡¯s hand. ¡°I must say. I was beside myself when I heard about your lung cancer. Terrible business that. Terrible business.¡± He spoke in a faux-distraught tone. ¡°Honestly. No one should have to suffer through what you suffered through. I¡¯m glad to see you¡¯re doing better.¡± Raymond¡¯s mouth said: ¡°Yes! Honestly. I should have seen it coming! After all those times you warned me not to smoke my own product! Ha!¡± He wagged a finger at Carlyle. ¡°I should¡¯ve listened to the doctors. But you know me. I¡¯m a man of the people. And I could never stop myself from having one more drag.¡± Meanwhile, Raymond¡¯s eyes said: ¡°I will gut you like a fish you old snake! Then I¡¯ll kill your son too! And set your house on fire! Hiiiisssss!¡± Indeed, the difference between what the two men were saying and what they showed in the slightest inflections on their faces was so stark that I was afraid I was the one having some kind of episode. ¡®Maybe that¡¯s why I didn¡¯t see the old man on the news.¡¯ I wondered with some horror. ¡®Maybe someone snuck some sky-shroom juice in my hot chocolate this morning and this is all some kind of misunderstanding.¡¯ James Robertson soon put a stop to those notions. ¡°Nonsense! Raymond! Nonsense! You followed your little, shrivelled up, black heart wherever it led you. Why, I wish I could be half as self-assured as you! I mean, I spend so much time stressing over the little things you know? It would save me so much trouble and energy if I could just shut my brain off at will like that!¡± He chuckled in good humor. ¡°By the way, how¡¯s your new kid doing?¡± Raymond feigned a bout of ignorance. ¡°New kid? Why, I¡¯m not sure I know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± ¡°Of course. Of course. That young lady obviously didn¡¯t know what she was talking about.¡± James nodded. ¡°I bet the DNA test will clear everything up in no time. Rest assured; I will be among the first people outside the courthouse waiting for a verdict.¡±Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. ¡®Waiting for the death penalty to be called out you mean.¡¯ I thought as soon as I saw his face. I didn¡¯t know what the heck was going on between these three, but the fact that the Robertsons despised this Raymond guy was obvious. I had picked up some clues from the conversation, but it seemed to me like it went much deeper than that. Like these three had known each other for a long, long time. ¡®Wait, didn¡¯t Carlyle say something when we first went to Alaska? Something about being poisoned a bunch of times with cyanide?¡¯ ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll come to that.¡± Raymond bemoaned. ¡°I felt bad for the poor soul and decided to settle the whole thing out of court. I was nice enough to give her a bit of money so that she could get settled and she agreed to take back her silly tales. It was the least I could do as an outstanding member of the community, though I would have preferred that she go to one of the programs I donate to. This was all a bit much for me.¡± He stepped right into Carlyle¡¯s personal space. ¡°And what about you two? I have to say, coming up with so much food out of nowhere is nothing short of miraculous. And speaking of miraculous, I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever had veggies that good before. Granted I¡¯ve always been more of a veal and caviar kind of guy, but those apples were out of this world.¡± He gave Carlyle the sleaziest smile anyone has ever given a fellow human being. ¡°And let us not forget the added health benefits. I mean, wow! I was always told that an apple a day keeps the doctor away, but this is a little much don¡¯t you think?¡± He let out a low chuckle. ¡°Tell me, just between us. What¡¯s your secret? Hmn? I mean, billions upon billions go into cancer research every year from all kinds of sources and even more money goes into treatment and into prevention campaigns. I myself paid top dollar for the best doctors and the best hospitals when I was suffering all those years. All for nothing. And here you come out of the blue. Not even advertising the health benefits of your mutant produce or raising prices. What exactly did you pump into those fruits?¡± ¡°Love and care old friend.¡± Carlyle answered. ¡°Love and care and lots of hard work on quiet, little patches of land.¡± ¡°Patches that won¡¯t be so little after tonight.¡± Raymond piled on quickly. ¡°I hear you¡¯re one of the main players looking to buy. Have to say, it¡¯s pretty brave that you came here to invest after so many crops failed one after the other and after the reports all came back inconclusive. It¡¯s almost like no one knows what¡¯s going on with the land lately. No one but you.¡± He stepped even further into Carlyle¡¯s personal space. ¡°I myself checked the fertilizer companies and you own none of them. I checked the pesticide providers and you don¡¯t own any of those either. Why, I even checked the companies that provide farming equipment and no one connected to you owned one until recently. So where did the sudden interest come from?¡± Carlyle gave him another simpering smile. ¡°Well, you know me old friend. I see someone in need and I just need to step in. Can¡¯t help it honestly. It¡¯s one of my faults. I care too much.¡± Raymond didn¡¯t answer, but his little weasel-like moustache wiggled. Then his beady little eyes snapped to me. ¡°And who do we have here?¡± He spoke with too much enthusiasm. ¡°A bodyguard? For you? Why Carlyle, you¡¯ve always been so happy go lucky until now. What changed? Are you thinking that someone might try something?¡± ¡°He¡¯s no bodyguard.¡± James corrected. ¡°This is Cecil. Cecil Fowler. I believe you¡¯ve become acquainted with his uncle back at Kentucky.¡± His eyes shone like stained windows with the sun behind them. ¡°Ah! Uter¡¯s boy!¡± He looked me up and down. ¡°Of course! Of course! I see the resemblance now. You both have the same¡­¡± He paused to glance at my muscles more closely. ¡®Though to be fair, the suit is very tight.¡¯ ¡°Eyes.¡± He decided. ¡°And you both have the same sandy-blonde hair. Yes. I see it now. You¡¯re definitely related.¡± I mean, we did have the same eyes and hair. But he had obviously not been paying attention to that. ¡°You¡¯re, what? 20?¡± ¡°14.¡± I corrected. Raymond laughed. More genuinely this time. ¡°Right! Of course you are! Good one!¡± I pulled out my Ontario health card and showed it to him. His eyes passed over the numbers. Widening as he went. ¡°Holy sh¡­ Holy cow kid! What the¡­ what¡¯s your uncle feeding you!?¡± ¡®Monsters under Korea.¡¯ I thought. ¡®Though to be fair, I am hunting and killing them myself.¡¯ He stumbled on his words some more, before he suddenly recovered. ¡°Well. I guess I know who gets first dibs on all that produce now. I swear, the markets have been having trouble keeping up with you Carlyle. There¡¯s even a black market of sorts in some towns now. I¡¯ve had to pay a couple hundred bucks an apple as of late. It¡¯s getting out of control.¡± Carlyle looked incredibly sad. To the point where he actually pulled out a handkerchief and slowly dabbed the corners of his right eye. ¡°I know old friend. I know. It hurt me too. I would gladly have everyone partake in the good I grow, but the FDA has been oh so dreadfully stubborn as of late. Even when the benefits are right there in front of them.¡± ¡°It really does make you wonder what¡¯s going on behind closed doors.¡± Raymond agreed. ¡°But don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m sure the investigators won¡¯t find anything out of place.¡± ¡°They sure won¡¯t.¡± James snapped a bit too eagerly. ¡°And the supply problems should all be taken care of after tonight. Don¡¯t you worry my good pal. I will make sure you can snack on our best in no time at all. But hey, don¡¯t let our own needs trouble you. I¡¯m sure your tobacco farms are still hungry for more land to expand in. After all, your shares have remained steady after all those glowing reports you gave to your shareholders. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be snapping up land right alongside us since you¡¯re doing so good!¡± Raymond¡¯s eyes somehow managed to gain an even more vicious edge. Somehow. ¡°Oh look at the time!¡± Raymond followed up. A bit too loudly. ¡°I really should get going! The auction is about to start.¡± ¡°Agreed.¡± Caryle snapped. ¡°Come on son. Let¡¯s go down there and help out the poor old farmers looking to exit the business.¡± We all moved past him. Walking with an air of forced calmness as we went. The man called Raymond did not follow. Instead, he stared at us until we entered the elevator and I had the feeling he was staring long after the doors closed. ¡®Who the frick was that?¡¯ I asked in my mind. ¡®Raymond Frey-Donahue.¡¯ Carlyle answered. ¡®Longtime acquaintance, former ENRON executive, former heir and now primary shareholder of the Donahue cigarette empire, heavy smoker, cutthroat capitalist, all around pest and the guy who most certainly bugged our rooms.¡¯ He sighed. ¡®This¡¯ll sound really bad, but I was kinda hoping the cancer got him. He¡¯s poisoned me enough times that I don¡¯t feel bad thinking that.¡¯ Both older men shared a look. ¡®So, hey. I know this was supposed to be a fun night for you kids before we set the Dungeon in motion, but make sure you don¡¯t eat anything tonight. Just to be on the safe side.¡¯ Elsie didn¡¯t say anything, but nodded. I nodded too, but brought up Pool Cecil back to blot out the mind-reading. ¡®Well, at least we¡¯ll get that farmland now.¡¯ I thought with dread. ¡®I guess potentially getting poisoned and definitely getting spied on is a cheap price to pay if it helps the people around here.¡¯ Chapter 79: Life of the Party. Prepper¡¯s Dungeon Chapter 79: Life of the Party. The first round of auctions had gone by in a blur. Carlyle and son walking away with hundreds of millions of dollars worth of land. Almost all of it having been sold for next to nothing after several devastating crop failures. The actual implications were dire and a few of the guests in the periphery had left early. Either in a rush to leave while stomping their feet in fury or completely gripped by bouts of hysterical sobbing. ''Some of those people just lost their family farms.'' I thought with no small amount of pity. ''The place they grew up in. Everything they ever had and worked for. Everything their parents left to them.'' It was a sobering truth. A cruel one too. But none of the people left in the venue seemed to care overmuch. The actual party was much less painful than the conversation with Raymond had been. All kinds of people were moving to and from one corner or the other. Mingling and laughing and jesting politely while helping themselves to the drinks on offer. That, and the produce. Mr. Raymond had spoken rather bitterly about having to pay hundreds for on of my apples, but the selection inside the actual hall was nothing if not generous. Something all the guests seemed to appreciate. ''But the people outside have not been so lucky.'' I thought to myself. Then I choked out Pool Cecil''s presence. ''Hey Carlyle, when exactly are we sending in more shipments of food again?'' I thought loudly. ''We''re already spread thin as is.'' He answered in my head. ''I have a few dozen trucks ready to come in via Casper so that the city has another oomph before we set the monsters loose, but it isn''t nearly enough to feed the whole city. Not even for a day and certainly not in proportion to the demand out there. Mind you, most people who can afford to gorge themselves are eating far more than their fair share in order to stay thin and pretty.'' I winced internally. ''Look. I get it. Okay? Tell you what. This function will last a few days. Up to the 2nd of November. It''s Halloween now and we''re not planning for your monsters to see any kind of action yet. Set your Dungeon to produce a small ocean of food and we''ll get Casper to bring it the usual way. It''ll give he people a bit more Magic before all hell breaks loose and it will probably improve the Cores they get.'' Well, that wasn''t much in the grand scheme of things, but it was something. I noticed him focusing on another conversation and I allowed my own mind to drift again. It was nice to see so many people enjoying themselves. It was nicer to see that almost none of the meat dishes or the desserts had been touched. For once in the history of buffets, the fruits and vegetables reigned supreme. Even now, half an hour in, guests were still going over every new dish being brought in like chickens around feeders. Clucking and bouncing their way to the apples and sliced melons and mashed potatoes with sides of peas. The two older men had said that poison was very much still on the table for this event, but that didn¡¯t seem to be the case so far. What''s more, my level 3 hearing let me pick up more or less every conversation going around as if I were standing right next to the people speaking. All I had to do was focus on a specific pair or group and tune out the rest. Though that approach came with mixed results. "I swear dear. Dr. Nguyen was right all along. I really should have started adding more fiber to my diet much sooner." A slightly pudgy man spoke from his spot beside one of the buffet tables. His hands grabbing more broccoli as the words left his mouth. "Darling, you called Dr. Nguyen a quack when he told you to lay off the steaks." The woman next to him cooed. "And you threatened to shoot him. After you went on and on about how you wouldn''t eat cabbage because crickets made love in and on top of them. Then you called him a pervert for enjoying cricket fluids on his food. Also, you told him his mothers privates tasted better than the greens on offer." The man laughed. "Yeah! I recall that. But in my defense, those greens he told me to eat really did taste like wet cardboard. These ones here are much more to my taste." "Yes, well. They''re turning out to be a rather expensive taste darling." His partner commented. The man shrugged. "Meh. We''re not hurting for money. And Carlyle said he''d be ramping up production anyway. The prices will come down." He shoved several heads of broccoli into his mouth with one swift motion. His still somewhat chubby cheeks opening to a degree that even I found alarming. "Oh yeah. That hit the spot." He spoke with his mouth still chewing. "Damn it. If I''d known Carlyle was cooking up something like this I wouldn''t have bothered getting in that dammed rowing machine so many times." "You used it three times last year dear." "Yeah. And that was three times too many. And for what? So that Carlyle could whip out the magic beans that made you lose weight and stay young and healthy? Bah!" He looked like he wanted to spit. "I did the math in my head, and losing 137 pounds cost me roughly $122 per pound so far. Add in the free muscle and the fact that I don''t have to take worry about the arteries anymore and it''s a wonder Carlyle isn''t charging more per fruit." He looked like he was about to lick his fingers, but stopped himself midway. "Damn it. Should have bought more stock when it was dipping. We could have tripled our money overnight." "There is still time dear." His partner assured him. "Yeah, I got Becky on it. But we could have made off with more if we''d bought sooner." "Who knows? Maybe Carlyle will say something racist again and the stock will dip further." "Yeah. Now that you mention it. It''s only a matter of time until he does it again." He paused. Considering. "Come to think about it, Jonesy is about the right age for his great-granddaughter isn''t he?"The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. "Yes dear. But she''s here with someone already." He looked incensed. "Bah! That doesn''t matter. Jonesy is a real man''s man! I''m sure he could beat up whatever scrawny boytoy she''s brought to..." His partner poked him in the side, then pointed across the room to where I was standing and... unbeknownst to them, listening in. The pudgy man took one look at me. Widened his eyes. Stared for a few seconds, and then turned away in a hurry. "Holy shit Josephine." He hissed. "What the actual fuck is that?" "It''s a boy Pierre." "No. No that is not a boy my dear. I know what boys look like. We''ve got four of them at home. That thing is a shaved gorilla someone fed a bunch of steroids to. Before shoving the thing into a suit." "He really doesn''t look anything like a gorilla dear. Just because he''s a little large for his age..." "He looks like he could rip my head off with one hand and smash my torso into paste with the other." He hissed again. Then he snuck another glance my way when he thought I wasn''t looking. "By all that is good and holy. Do you..." He gulped. "Do you think the rumors are true?" "You''re going to have to be more specific dear. There are all kinds of rumors going around." Josephine sighed. "Superheroes in Alaska, monsters in the sewers, werewolves on the streets, Poland going to war, Russians injecting kid with who knows what, Japan and South Korea building mechs and super-robots, North Koreans mobilizing their soldiers, Carlyle using alien tech to grow super foods, Carlyle using radiation to grow super foods, Carlyle using human sacrifices to grow super foods, Carlyle..." "The one about the bio-engineered super soldiers." He interrupted. She shrugged. "I mean, I would have laughed at you a couple of months ago, but sure. Why not? He''s already engineering plants on a massive scale and he''s definitely got some pull with the government with the way he''s been dodging inquiries like Raymond dodges paternity lawsuits. Why not work on people too?" "Damn it woman" He hissed again. More sharply this time. "Take this seriously! There''s a world of difference between working on making me less fat and putting out super soldiers! What''s too inhumane! And I make a living by denying people insurance claims! What''s the world coming to?" She shrugged again. "At least we''re in here and not out there darling. I hear the governor petitioned the army to make sure the barricades hold and to stamp out any riots. Any hungry folks outside these walls are going to be in for a world of hurt if it comes to that. A little bird told me they''re packing live ammo." "Shit! Don''t you get it woman! We might be in here but we''re not in the inner circle! We''ve got no idea what''s about to go down!" "That''s fine dear." She placed a calming hand on his shoulder. "We''ve got money to fall back on. We''ve studied history. We''ve studied the upheavals that have come before. We made it through ENRON. We made it through the internet bubble. We made it through the housing crash. Whatever is coming, it''s nothing a little money in the right pockets can''t handle. We''ll ride the wave like we''ve always done. We''ll be fine. It isn''t as if monsters are going to start popping out of the ground like mushrooms." ''Oooff.'' I winced internally. ''That was a really good guess and a really bad guess at the same time madam.'' I pulled my attention away from the conversation. But all the others in the room seemed to revolve around similar topics. "What''s he putting into those fruits?" "Should really invest a bit more." "Need to find a way to sneak in a few spies into his farms." "You think it''s radiation?" "Dammit. I can''t get a hold of these on the outside!" "Should buy some in bulk while we''re here. Forget he markets. For personal use." "Dammit. Should have married into the family when I had the chance. Mother is never going to let me hear the end of this." "Why shift gears from his usual businesses into farming?" "Cause it''s profitable. Duh." "Donni says all his friends are eating the good stuff. What are our neighbors going to say about us if we can''t afford these?" "You know, I heard there were aliens involved." "Dammit. Running out of money. Banks chasing the loans. Farms going out of business. Dammit!" "I heard he poisoned the earth on purpose." "All over the globe? Get real." "Maybe I can still snag someone on the inside? It''ll be a messy divorce but I can make it work. Just need to find some lonely auntie in the family." "Did you see that guy who set himself on fire?" "Which one? The protester or the Alaskan flying guy?" "What Alaskan flying guy?" "Need to move quickly before someone else has the same idea." "What I don''t get is how the DNA tests all showed normal strains." "Is that bad." "It''s not bad. It''s just odd. Not a doctor, but I have my masters. These kids of effects should not be possible with the base species." "Maybe it''s the fertilizer." "That would have to be some fertilizer." "They say he took the seeds from Chernobyl." "Who is they exactly?" "You know! They!" I shook my head in order to clear it of all the rumors flying around. Then I started eyeing the sweets on offer once more. Then I shrugged. Figuring that everyone else in this room was normal and no one seemed to be dropping dead quite yet. Then I made my way over to one of the cakes on the dessert table. A gigantic strawberry cheesecake with a generous amount of whipped cream on the side. I took a slice and placed it on my plate. Then I went to the chocolate cheesecake next to it and took a slice from that one too. Then on from the caramel cheesecake and one from the chocolate fudge cake. A few scoops of ice-cream later saw me moving about with a plate that could only be described as the very picture of early-onset diabetes. That, or the stuff all children''s dreams were made of. Even as I walked, I could practically hear my aunt''s voice in my ear. Pulling on an earlobe and bemoaning just how viciously unhealthy my choice of food was. ''But whatever. I''m always working my butt off looking out for people and training myself and growing food on the farm. I deserve a little break before I start to work overtime to feed this city.'' I also made sure to ignore the many, many judgmental stares I was getting from many of the other attendees. ''Think whatever you want.'' I huffed internally. ''You''re all stuffing yourselves with things I grew anyway. Mind your own business. It''s not like this is gonna hurt me or anything.'' I sat down to eye my own collection. Indeed. The cakes would have to be made entirely of radioactive rat poison and expired cyanide in order to give me a stomachache. I would be fine. And boy was I. ''Ooooh. My gooooodnesssss. This tastes sooooo gooooooood!'' I thought with sweet jubilation. "Well someone seems to be having fun." Elsie quipped from the side "I think I''m going to try and kidnap some of the cooks." I told her honestly. She giggled. "You don''t have to go that far Cecil. I''m sure you''ll be able to hire a few of them if you want. Though you will have to sponsor their move into town. And then watch the as their worldview crumbles." "That doesn''t sound too fun." I murmured. "Meh. Some people handle it better than others. And sometimes, people can really surprise you. You certainly surprised me." "I''m sure you mean that as a compliment." "I sure do!" She said cheekily. "I struck the freaking jackpot!" Her smile turned impish, then slightly more subdued. "Speaking of cooks though... one of the friends I told you about has the [Chef] Core." He eyed the room. "Nothing fancy. Just a basic Stage 2 Core. And it is one of the best Cores to have if you found yourself being born with a 2. Her whole family makes a pretty penny back in town." "Are they the ones that own the Italian place?" "Yes. Yes they are." She confirmed. "You should go. It''s not just pizza and pasta and panzerotti. They have some of the best coffee you''ve ever had ad the eclairs are to die for." "So, what? The Core gives them a boost to the taste?" "And the food gives temporary buffs." She confirmed. "Not in the way your veggies make normal people look amazing or heal diseases. Though the food does help with health and digestion. Nah, the food they make gives up to five points in a stat and three in others. Plus certain resistances. Depending on how they make it." "That sounds OP as shit." I muttered. Honestly surprised. "Only in the first two levels. Since they themselves can''t level past 3, their buffs don''t get any stronger. Which is a shame. Because the buffs stack with enchanted gear and one''s own self buffs." I nodded. "Come to think of it, I haven''t really gotten my hands on any gear for a while now." "Yeah. Cause you don''t need it the way you fight. What''s a spear gonna do for you if you''re sending waves of teeth into a boss? What''s armor gonna do for you if you keep turning into Pools or massive floating brains. I mean, Sheri can work Magic with her threads, but even she has her limits." She sighed and patted me in the back. "Maybe we can get you a spear that helps with Magic flow or Magic regeneration so you can make units more efficiently. Something to think about." She pulled a fork out from somewhere and started helping herself to the chocolate cheesecake. To my chocolate cheesecake. "Sharing is caring." She told me through a mouthful of dairy and sugar. "My mom always says so." I was about to snap back that she was always welcome to get off her rear and get her own damn cheesecake, when a loud rumbling noise filled the hall. At the same time, the windows outside lit up with bright lights. As if several rescue helicopters were passing overhead. Then the dishes started shaking. Empty plates vibrating as if experiencing a mild earthquake. I tried to speak, but my voice was drowned out by a new, overwhelming sound. The echoing crescendo of... ''A theme song?'' Chapter 80: The Big Reveal. I was right. It was a theme song. A loud, obnoxious orchestra of electric guitar riffs and tyrannical drumming. Mixed with a series of vocals in Japanese. The source was soon visible from the windows after the spotlights had descended a bit more. The machine was enormous. Easily twice the size of the biggest helicopters I''d ever seen on TV or in documentaries. It had four different rotors attached to four different limbs. Each one sporting eight blades that cut through the air at blinding speeds. Its main hull was painted a deep, stylized blue with streaks of black and violet. Drawn to imitate the azure scales of a dragon and lightning bolts leaping from the spot where its jaws were plastered. The music was coming from two different speakers placed over the spots where ears had been painted and he spot where the eyes should have been hosted the spotlights that had so thoroughly blinded me just seconds earlier. All in all, the vehicle looked like an oversized children''s toy. One that had somehow managed to get past the design phase, where any real engineer would have laughed themselves senseless before asking the designers if they''d been smoking meth. I couldn''t help but think that the answer was yes. Just as I was thinking that, a single man came out of the dragon-copter. Flanked on both sides by half a dozen beautiful women in very revealing outfits. A slightly gaunt figure trailing just behind him. ''Wait a second. I know that guy...'' I narrowed my eyes. ''Is that...?'' It was. Slitpipes McGee himself. Trailing behind the confident man with his dog Cindy by his side. As for the man himself... Well... He was weird. He wore a long, unbuttoned bright blue trench coat with the same dragon scale pattern as the helicopter. Purple lightning bolts running down the length of it as if being carried from the sky and towards the earth. On his face was a pair of bronze sunglasses that reflected the light from the surroundings. The tips of it being far too large and far too long for a human head. Both of them poking out like swords on either side of his face. It would have looked kinda cool... If the shirt underneath the trench coat didn''t have a cartoon of a skull with glowing red eyes. That one detail pushed the ensemble into the territory of cringy edge lords. Which sucked because the dragon-copter looked freaking awesome. I watched from the windows as the man came closer and closer. Sauntering past the front doors and disappearing into the hotel. Slitpipes McGee still in tow with his dog. Less then two minutes later, he was up here on the second floor of the attached venue. Pushing past the glass double doors and leaving sodden footprints all over the nice rugs. His entourage had also grown in the brief moments he''d been out of sight. A veritable swarm of reporters swarmed his person now. Like hornets around their queen. Their questions drowning each other out until they all came across as incomprehensible buzzing. The man in the trench coat made it to the middle of the hall before stopping. His feet moving further apart as he took a wide stance and threw out his chest. "Ladies and gentlemen!" He began. "Know that I, the majestic genius Ryuji Hanamura! Have figured out the secret to the super foods being peddled in our markets!" He looked down and held covered his face with his left hand. Running his fingers through his shoulder length black hair while he pointed towards the sky with his right hand. "Hear me now! Magic is real! And I can prove it!" No one moved. No one said a thing. So that the only sounds echoing through the venue were the clicking of cameras and the soft, happy panting of Cindy the German shepherd as she stood next to Slitpipes McGee. Then, suddenly, a soft light began shining out of the man''s index finger. Small sparks of electricity running through it before leaping out and dancing through the air. Connecting with forks and knives and spoons and lifting them up until they hovered. Then, the bits of metal started rotating around him. Slowly at first, before picking up speed. "Look at this! Stare all you like! And know that all the rumors are true! I was at Alaska for a hunting trip! I fought the plant monsters there with the firefighters and the police! I helped save the town and for my efforts, I and all the other heroes were rounded up and shoved into discreet facilities so the American government could study us!"This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. He three off his bronze sunglasses with his left hand. His right still pointing up. His eyes were crackling now too. Leaking electricity and donning a violent, violet hue. "I escaped to let you all know! And I soon found out that I could sense the power known as Magic! I used all my family''s wealth to search the world for similar signatures and soon found them! In the fruits and the vegetables being sold by Carlyle Robertson-shi!" The right hand then pointed straight at the old man. "You found a way to use Magic to grow the food you serve to people for outrageous prices! That''s why your crops flourish while all others die! That''s why they make people so crazy for them! That''s why I can sense the same power on you now!" He paused top glance over the room. "You! And your son! And your great granddaughter! And that gorilla-san you brought here! They all have Magic! And I know where you''re getting the Magic from! Thanks to my comrade in arms! A man who survived the green bear just like me! The Magic Ranger Slitpipes McGee-san!" My jaw hit the floor. So did Elsie''s and James'' for that matter. The man did not notice. Instead, he gestured towards the older, toothless man behind him. "Tell them Slitpipes-san!" "Yes sireee! It''s me! Slitpipes McGee!" The other man spoke. Though only after running forwards and stuffing himself with a fistful of baby carrots. "I followed them smell of them Witchycraft ya see. I can do that cause I be magic too!" He put his fingers around his eyes and widened them by pulling his eyelids up. "I can see them magic chemtrails in them skies and them streets! Yes sireee! I can see them or my name ain''t Slitpipes McGee! Coming fer ye!" Carlyle Robertson shook his head abruptly. As if to wake himself from a fever dream. Before then blinking rapidly and shaking his head again. "I followed them witchycraft trails to them garage and then... I found monsters! Yes! That''s right! I found them monsters just like the ones in Alaska! Only these ones were more like bug monsters! And they shot me a bunch o'' times! But Slitpipes McGee, coming fer ye, is no stranger to getting shot! No siree! I grew up in them mean streets! So I knew just what to do!" He placed both hands over his head and made to roll. Only, he didn''t roll. Instead, he sort of vanished into nothingness. My magical senses failing to catch anything even as my eyes caught only faint traces of his outline. My jaw dropped even further. ''How the fu...?'' "The weeds made us all stronger ya see! The spooky men in spooky suits can track them witchycraft with some kinds of radios or somethin. And they figured we could get stronger by eating the funny grass in the sewers under the town! The one we found after chopping down all them monster trees and such! In Alaska!" He smacked his lips with his tongue. Loudly. "After they popped out and we put them down! The ones up top got little powers, but the ones who ate a lot of them weeds got strong powers! Yes siree! It''s all true or my name ain''t Slitpipes McGee!" He chuckled madly to himself. "That''s how I saw them Magic folks appear tonight! I was keeping my one good eye out for them weirdness since I knew them food were witchycraft and such! Then, I saw them nice car popping out of thin air and I knew I had them! So I rolled away and then stayed far, far away to get proof!" "Proof?" Carlyle muttered. Almost in a daze. "Yeah! I got a camcorder with me! Strapped to my pal Cindy! She caught the whole thing on tape and then we sent it up the cloud to Ourtube!" The man called Ryuji nodded. "Not only that, we''ve also uploaded all of our own experimentation and our findings and all the videos of us using our new Magic into Ourtube! As well as all the streaming sites we could find!" I wanted to speak. I tried to. But all I could say was something along the lines of: "Uh... Oh... Hum... Bah..." Slitpipes McGee then pointed at me. "He''s the one who went to get the food! I can smell it on him!" The man actually took a few sniffs. "In fact! I bet he grew the food! Cause his Magic smells so much like food! Yes siree! Or my name ain''t Slitpipes McGee!" Every single eye in that room had been glued to the spectacle. Now they made their way over to me. "I... uh.... uh...I...uh...." I began. Unable to say anything else at that moment. I turned to the other guests. My mind as thick as slurry. Unable to really comprehend what was happening. Then I heard the gunshot and felt a small sting in my chest. Kinda similar to how mosquito bites used to feel. I looked down, and saw the bullet. Then I looked up, mouth still agape, and saw one of the pretty women flanking the man called Ryuji. A smoking pistol in her hand. "See! You all see that! Wake up people! Magic is real! And the elite have been hoarding it all to themselves!" His voice grew louder and more furious. "Carlyle-shi knew that his crops were the only one that would survive the rising Magic levels in the world! He knew and he didn''t say anything!" His tone was furious. Filled with righteous indignation. "Instead, he chose to profit off the situation by selling his produce to you all! Despite knowing that people could use Magic to grow super foods if only they awakened their own Magic first! He wanted to leave you all in the dark so that he and his could rule over you like sheep!" And his tone kept getting angrier and angrier by the second. Until he started coming across as a folk hero denouncing a corrupt lord in front of their village. "I have proof! I have been contacted by brave souls inside his own organization! People who could not stand idly by and allow him to strangle the world! I have acquired thousands of hours worth of videos and tens of thousands of accounts on how to use Magic, how it behaves and how it affect the world! Not only that! I have acquired what see like Carlyle-shi''s plans for the future!" Oh. Oh no. "A future in which monsters roam free and the only people who can stand a chance against them are those who belong to his organizations or those who turn to him early on in order to get Magic for themselves!" That was when it all made sense. Not only to myself, but to Pool Cecil too. ''It was Casper.'' He purred into my ear. ''It all fits. The people waiting to rob us. The mostly-empty streets leading us to drop our guard. The feeble-minded fool and his dog standing by where the stronger mind-readers couldn''t detect him. It all fits together nicely. But only if you consider someone with the ability to teleport in and out of the town at will in order to set things up. Even if it wasn''t him, he actively helped whomever was behind it.'' He was right. Of course it was right. It had to have been Casper. The man in the trench coat shook both his fists in front of him. "I have uploaded all those documents to the internet as well! And now you can also look at what he''s done! He''s bought out the farms of poor, desperate people from underneath them so that he could grow his own foods and enrich himself even further! He''s using this gorilla-san to grow his empire on the suffering of others! Of you! Will you let this stand!? Or will you follow me into the pit where the monsters are coming from and kill monsters to get Magic for yourselves!?" Many, many eyes turned my way. Their answers clear on their faces. I didn''t say anything. Instead, I turned to Carlyle for guidance. The older man looked, remarkably composed. Almost... happy. In a strange sort of way. Then he sighed and spoke up. "No comment. Thank you. You can contact my attorneys or our public relations department if you need to reach me. James, Elsie, Cecil, come with me. We''re leaving." Chapter 81: Floodgates. The man in the trench coat hadn''t been cooperative at first. He''d stood in our way defiantly. Letting lighting run up and down his body while stretching out his hands. "I will not let you pass until you''ve answered my questions!" He bellowed. "If you attack us, I will consider it a matter of self-defense." Carlyle spoke softly. He scoffed at that. "I am a hero!" He declared. "I will not hurt old men or girls." He said without an ounce of sarcasm. ''Okay, so apparently he can''t read Magic half as well as Slitpipes. Though maybe Slitpipes is just weird. He''s only had it since Alaska so, maybe mid level 1?'' The he turned to me. "But I will not hesitate to knock your goon into next week!" I had to say, the more he talked, the cringier he got. In fact, I was still reeling from second-hand embarrassment when he charged me. Taking a boxer''s stance and throwing a lightning-coated fist my way. I responded on instinct. Just like coach Russell had taught me. Letting loose a quick jab while tanking the punch. His punch made a small bit of my skin sizzle. My punch shattered his jaw into a million little specks of dust and knocked his brain around so that it bounced inside his skull like a dozen maracas being shaken at the same time. I felt bad immediately, but then I felt thankful that he was still alive. ''Close one.'' I thought. ''Hopefully he''ll learn something from this.'' The dude fell like a ragdoll. Turning limp as a wet noodle in my arms; in a way that made the women flanking him second-guess their hostility. They all moved aside. As did Slitpipes McGee. I rushed past them and soon heard the others moving to my sides as we made our way to the lower floor. The outside of the hotel was full of cameras. All of them attached to screaming, breying masses and all of the flashing incessantly as we passed. Asking all sorts of heated, pointed questions. Some of which I would have loved to know. "What is your response to Mr. Hanamura''s accusations?" "What do you make of the documents Mr. Hanamura leaked to the press?" "Is Magic real?" "What kind of impact will Magic have on the world at large?" "Are you the only ones capable of growing magic food?" "Why didn''t you spread out the method to growing magic food sooner?" "Why did you wait until the world had a food crisis to start bringing your products to market?" "Are you trying to start a monopoly?" "Have you no shame?" "And now we come to you live from downtown Detroit. Where a group of concerned citizens have landed a custom helicopter in the city''s streets and come out to expose what they claim is a massive conspiracy to take over most of the world. Wealthy heir to Hanamura Heavy Industries, Ryuji Hanamura, was recently knocked unconscious by a youth named Cecil Fowler. The event was broadcast live on Chirper and is already having an impact. With netizens dubbing the event as: The Wrath of the Shaved Gorilla. Thousands are now going over the supposed leaks and wondering. Just how much truth there is to these stories? Is Magic real? Why does that make so much sense now that we don''t see people who ate the new produce using the bathroom? I''m Jane Holland and this is the Channel 6 news." We pushed past all of them. The wall of people feeling remarkably light as I kept moving steadily. My own frame effortlessly breaking through their impromptu barricade of bodies. A few yelled in surprise. A few cursed. Many more kept asking their questions. Sounding more and more frantic as they saw that we were making progress towards the public street and to the left where the valet parking was. I felt a tug on my shoulder, and followed James Robertson''s lead. Abandoning the garage altogether in favor of a slight jog down the road. Running at a pace that was mildly refreshing to me, but that would have been utterly brutal to a professional marathoner. Not to mention a reporter in fancy dress shoes or, if they were really unlucky, heels. In truth, I had half expected the police to stop us. My mind conjuring black windowless vans from every alley we passed and imagining what we''d do if a bunch of very angry men in suits tried to muscle us into the confines of those vans. ''Kill them, in all likelihood.'' I decided. ''I barely touched the cringy trench coat guy back there and I''m pretty sure he''s halfway dead.'' That was the logical outcome when two people had a single level of difference between them. Never mind the reality that the poor fool was, at best, a poorly informed and poorly trained level 1 and that I was the kind of guy my fellow level 3s actively avoided looking at these days. ''Even if he''d had training, that was unfair.'' I chided myself. ''I was no better than a bully. No better than coach Russell when he caught up to me back in Korea.'' ''His woman shot you.'' Pool Cecil hissed. ''Unprovoked. That, and he had the nerve to strike at us first! He should be thanking whatever gods he keeps that we didn''t come out of that building wearing his skin as a cloak!'' I didn''t dismiss his words out of hand this time. Sure, he might be a literal psychopath, but he had a point this time. I had been shot first. ''And that woman couldn''t have guessed how tough I was. Unless Casper told them all about levels too. But if he did, then why try and pick a fight?''Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Punching someone who was built like me was already a losing proposition before magic was taken into account. I must have had 200 pounds of pure muscle on the guy. At least. But with magic? Attacking an actual, literal gorilla might have been less dangerous. ''So what do they know and what don''t they know?'' "I feel like we''re far enough away now." James Robertson spoke once we stopped. My eyes only now realizing we''d almost reached the police barricade that separated the relatively clean parts of town from those that more or less resembled an active war zone. "They stole the Jag." James spat in disgust. "Though I guess I should be thanking my lucky stars that it wasn''t the Cobra." "Casper was the one who supposedly teleported it back home grandpa." Elsie reminded him. "Shiiiiit." He moaned. Allowing the word to drag on. "You''re right." He clenched his teeth. Grinding them until they made a sound not too dissimilar to those of a buzzsaw. "I swear, when I get my hands on that snake I''ll...!" "Let it go." Carlyle spoke. His voice coming out more softly than I would have guessed. His eyes were on his phone now. No doubt scrolling through the internet to see what information had made it out. "Can''t reach anyone in town." He said. "But I can still text people outside of our bases and my phone still has internet. I think the signals are being blocked on their end." "Well isn''t that just dandy." His son spat. "This is not ideal." He continued once his son glared at him. "But it is by no means he worst case scenario." He paused to suck in a breath. Releasing it in one slow hiss. "None of the information here implicates us in any crime. There''s nothing about Alaska and nothing about us putting a Dungeon Core in the outskirts of Detroit. Growing food and hoarding knowledge and keeping magic to ourselves is sketchy as all heck... but it is not illegal per se." I narrowed my eyes. Considering just how many of the world''s governments would vehemently disagree. "In a way, this is good. Most people out there won''t accept the existence of magic so easily. Not anytime soon anyway. But the one who see what the food does and how the crops keep failing will be skeptical. There will be more public studies. The governments won''t be able to hide it as well as they did the first time around." He repeated the breathing exercises once, then twice, then thrice. Then he chuckled. "You know... In a way. This is really kinda funny." He turned around to look at us. Tears gathering at the corner of his eyes. "Always said I''d never forgive the Japanese, and here comes this kid I had no info on. His mind filled with genuine righteous indignation. Doing the exact same thing I did back in my time to get the truth out in order to mobilize those at the top and save more people." He laughed again. Though it felt hollow. "There wasn''t a single selfish thought in his head. Makes you think." His eyes sharpened. "The police don''t know anything about Magic. Neither the governor or the mayor had any clue as to what was happening last time we talked. Some people in the federal government knew something, but not enough get a clear picture and certainly not enough to point fingers at us." He wasn''t smiling anymore. "That easy ride is over. We have a bit of plausible deniability, since all these documents don''t prove anything by themselves and all the Magic he showed could be special effects. I''ve used my Magic to contact Russell and Homer and my other sons and daughters. But I haven''t heard anything definitive back from them. Our contacts in the Canadian government will keep any official heat off our backs when it comes to the town. But that won''t do here in the states. I only have a coupe of congressmen and senators in my pocket. Not nearly enough to crush an official inquiry." He clapped. "So, we have to move fast. Without the benefit of our resident teleporters. There is a chance that Casper was acting alone, but he''ll have moved his family out of town by now. They could be on Mars for all I know." "We still have Shortround." Elsie pointed out. "Same Core, level 1. Not to mention the fact that she''s only been to a few places in the world." Carlyle shook his head. "Her importance just skyrocketed, but she won''t be a proper card in our deck for some time yet. If Casper hasn''t kidnapped her too." He sighed. "No, we need to move and we need to move fast. I''ll head out to some contacts in the media and start putting out fires before they can spread. Then I will go back home and meet with our lawyers. This was always a possibility so the contingencies are already in place. We just need someone to manage the fallout." He turned to James, Elsie and me. "You three have the trickiest job though." He spoke softly. "The Dungeon Core is more or less exposed to the elements right now with only a couple of floors. It, by itself, is a strategic resource that will make or break countries in the future. Casper has nabbed it before, but only after Cecil bonded with it and shut down most of the natural Dungeon''s inherent defenses. As it is now, the Core is even more defenseless than before." "It needs to be secured." James agreed. "Casper might try to take it to who-knows-where." "Not to mention its owner." Carlyle agreed. ''Oh yeah.'' I realized suddenly. ''If Casper wants to erode Carlyle''s influence, I''m much more valuable than a Core. Thanks to me being the controller and the one who can grow food. Just like...'' "Holy shit! My family!" "Yeah." Elsie agreed. "Mercy can grow food too and if Casper wanted to take you away from town..." "We have to make sure they''re okay!" I bellowed. Carlyle Robertson looked up to me and placed his hands ion my shoulders. "We will. You have my word. I already reached out to my kids via [Telepathy]. I''m waiting to hear back. For now, I need you to get to that Dungeon and make sure no one gets close to the Core. It could do a lot of harm if it falls into the wrong hands, and we don''t even know if Casper and whomever he''s working with can really contain it like you can." I nodded slowly. "Okay. It''s decided then. Best of luck." Just like that, the old geezer bent his knees and rocketed up into the sky like coach Homer had done when I''d first arrived in town. Practically flying with the momentum he''d built up from a single leap. However, I didn''t stand there gaping this time. Instead, I grew wings and feathers. knowing full well that James was about to pick me and Elsie up before doing the same.
The abandoned garage was more or less how we''d left it. The only difference being in how many people were running away screaming. Some of them stopping only briefly to fire guns at the emerging Sunflower brutes. The announcement had had a great big impact on the population here. Enough so that thousands had crowded around to the place in order to see what all the fuss was about. ¡®Or maybe they¡¯re all really desperate to get powers.¡¯ I thought to myself. ¡®If the food really is as addictive as they say, a lot of folks might not see another choice. That guy McGee basically told everyone I grew the food. They might think they can grow Magic food too if they get in there and kill some monsters.¡¯ It wasn¡¯t an impossibility per se, but the chances weren¡¯t good. Not to mention that the units guarding the Core wouldn¡¯t be anything like the pushovers on the surface. If they gave the seniors trouble back in Korea, then regular people would turned into Swiss cheese faster than they could blink. "I thought the monsters in the surface were supposed to be weak." Elsie commented. "They are weak." I answered. "Some of the weakest units I could think of. They''re slow, clumsy, blind, mostly deaf and mostly dumb. The one thing they''re good at is pushing folks away and taking hits." "And bullets." Elsie followed up. "That too. But to be fair, any level 1 monster would be really good at taking bullets." We were soaring through the air now. Lazily drifting downwards on heavy feathered wins James Robertson and his granddaughter clinging to my sides as I angled our descent so that none of the passersby saw us. "Hey Elsie." "What?" "Connect to my mind. Increase my range so that I can target each one of my units and the Dungeon itself from here." James Robertson sputtered. Looking shocked. "You did the [Mind-Meld]!?" Elsie shriveled. Shooting me a dangerous look. "Yeah? Was she not... oh. Yeah. That checks out." I said with resignation. "You''re both 14!?" "Yeah and dad was 13 when he did it with mom." Elsie quipped. "Your father''s not a proper role model all the time young lady!" The older Robertson snapped. "And you should know better!" Elsie pretended she didn''t hear him. When that didn''t work, she tried the logical approach. "Yeah, well. This is kinda an emergency grandpa. I''m sure you can find it in your heart to forgive me." He looked furious. Though more at her than at me. Which was good because the inverse would have been the height of unfairness. We connected again and the borders between our bodies and our Magic faded away. ''Explode outwards.'' I commanded. ''Send the challengers running. But don''t kill them. Release the Cannonlings. Create a new form with my specifications.'' I felt the Magic roil around us. I could feel the Core rushing to obey. More importantly, I could feel the cement cracking and shifting and disintegrating. Giving way, before the new life I was about to unleash. Chapter 82: Diversion. I had been able to connect to the Core and to all my units from way, way above the battlefield thanks to Elsie melding our minds together again. We really could have used James''s help as well, since he was way, way higher level, but he went on and on about immorality and psychological scars and whatnot. Regardless, we reached down. Taking Pool-Cecil and all his inventiveness and spite and bloodlust and proficiency along for the ride. The Diversion, as we named the new unit, was massive. The outer carapace was that of an armored caterpillar. With limbs and a coloration that resembled the carnivorous specimens in Hawaii. Complete with serrated barbs and reddish-brown hues along its outer shell. It was more or less the size of three buses crudely stapled together, with a chitinous shell as thick as tank armor and with a second spongy layer of cartilage underneath all that protection. It was made to be sturdy and strong and slow. The idea being that it would draw the fire and cameras away from the main entrance so that the three of us could descend down to the Dungeon Core and keep it safe. It was a good plan. It was a plan that showed a lot of promise. It was a plan that didn''t work. Turns out that half the country had news helicopters inbound for Detroit seconds after the uploaded documents leaked the location of the Dungeon. Not to mention the local news and police helicopters that were taking off minutes after we left. And those things are really, REALLY good at spotting things. James pretty much assured me that we''d be spotted in seconds. Even with the Distraction throwing a colossal tantrum as it emerged and sauntered over to the now fleeing cars and motorcycles. The cameras were just too good. And millions upon millions were watching. Someone was bound to catch something. So, I was forced to beat my wings harder and harder. Reaching higher altitudes before diving towards a seemingly abandoned apartment complex two blocks over in order to escape the notice of the hungry cameras. My connection to the Dungeon was not cut thanks to Elsie and so we stayed put around the area. Watching the skies got more and more crowded with helicopters and drones. "We have an idea." We told grandpa. "Oh really? Do tell." He snapped. Going over his phone and trying to call a bunch of numbers in quick succession. We didn''t need to read his mind to see how much success he was having. In the distance the caterpillar was charging forwards. With surprising alacrity for something so big and bulky and fat. At first glance, each of its legs moved ponderously. Waving about in the air for a second and a half every single time the thing made to progress. ''It is big and impressive and gross.'' We mused. ''But that doesn''t make it anymore dangerous. Anyone with two working legs will be able to outrun it without any trouble. Perhaps even someone in a half-destroyed wheelchair.'' The thing would roar and rage and stomp on the ground, leading wide circular cracks in the dirty old pavement. Sending all the curious onlookers running for the hills like headless chickens. The fact that the beast seemed to be missing on purpose didn''t seem to occur to anyone. Though we didn''t think that the normal, everyday people of the city were likely to stop and consider the ponderous nature of the monster. ''At least, not with the way the bullets are being shrugged off its hide.'' They were small bullets. Tiny, comparatively harmless things that would have barely been enough tickle a Ripper back in Dunstonberry. When the time came for monsters to roam free around the world, those handguns would come across as little more than toys. ''Expensive toys. Toys that give common men the confidence of champions. Toys that might have once given them the power of life and death. But toys nonetheless.'' "We can transform ourselves to look like Sunflower Brutes." We began. "Then we can sprint all the way back to the entrance and change back once we get underground." "That''s nice." James said smarmily. "So we can get underground without an issue. Perfect. That will only leave us sitting prettily while the entire weight of the United States'' Military Industrial Complex descends on us like the booted heel of some great big titan." He sighed and rubbed his eyes. ''The entire weight of modern militaries have failed. More than once.'' We thought. ''Tunnel fighting is nasty business. As coach Russell is so fond of saying. So many of the modern world''s toys rely on air power and on heavy, cumbersome things, that guzzle oceans of black gold with an unmatched ferocity.'' We looked over at the heavy caterpillar. One of the helicopters had unloaded a salvo of missiles at it. All but one hitting true and exploding upon impact. The explosions sent shockwaves rippling across the air. The sounds coming across like the thundering of a million drums. The caterpillar did not stagger. It did not even flinch. Instead, it lumbered forwards again. Massive, clumsy legs still waiting hesitantly for every step. Its maw still open and roaring in feigned fury. ''That''s a good pair of lungs on her.'' We thought. Grandfather kept talking. "We can''t afford to be around when that happens. The issue is not about getting in, it''s about getting the Core out. As soon as humanly possible." "Which is not going to happen unless we have a teleporter on hand." We pointed out. "All we can do now is hunker down and get ready for the worst. Everything will progress a lot more smoothly with us down there, instead of up here. Not only do we not have to worry about being seen, but we can keep absorbing Magic, filtered and digested Magic, straight from the Dungeon Core. Not to mention the advantages of placing ourselves at the heart of the swarm. Right now, our connection could still be severed and keeping it up outside the thick ambient magic of the Dungeon is expensive. Being down there is much more preferable to being out here." James stopped in his tracks. Not saying anything. "If the worst case scenario occurs, a Dungeon with ten or more floors will easily survive a nuclear strike or three. And we are confident that any of our formations can eviscerate normal troops with ease. We don''t really play by the Geneva rules after all."If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. We nodded in unison. "If things start to look hopeless and no one comes over to rescue the Core, then we can at least place many more layers of defense between it and the surface before escaping. Ten floors will be a challenge. Twenty will be a nightmare. Anything close to what we achieved as a level 2 in Korea will be borderline impossible for anyone without Magic. No matter how many nukes they''re willing to detonate. Not to mention..." James Robertson fell forwards. His phone slipping out from his limp fingers and cracking on the pavement. Even as his face made contact with the asphalt. We stared. We blinked. We had been so surprised that our hands had not reached out to grab him. But now they did. We touched him. [Healed] him. Felt his warm skin turn clammy and cold. "How?" We asked. But we could not conjure an answer. The very idea that this would happen to someone who was more than twice our level... Someone who competed with coach Homer and Russell... It was unthinkable. ''And yet his skin is getting colder and his face is getting paler.'' We realized with a start. Then we blasted him with more and more Magic. Brute forcing power through [Heal] with a fervor that would have brought back the dead. But James Robertson would not get better. ''Poison.'' We thought. ''Casper. The men were so worried about this Raymond fellow that they did not suspect betrayal from within. But how? Toxins from the lowest floors of Dunstonberry? Curses? Stacked debuffs? Why were we not affected?'' ''Because we would be easier to catch.'' We decided. ''And because he would like us alive.'' We picked up grandpa and used [Bio-Engineer] on all our bodies. The more advanced version of [Transform] kicking in at once. Then we rushed the entrance with all the speed we could muster. Ignoring the fierce rain of lead and fire peppering the Distraction. We made it through the gap in less than a minute, and from there, we descended further and further. The first three floors had already been more or less completed in our absence and we did not feel the need to spend valuable time and Magic on changing them when the wolves were at the door. Instead, we started working on the 4th floor at once. Sending cascading waves of Magic into [Terraform] and [Dungeoneer]. And into [Over-Mind]. And into [Seeker-Mind] as well. ''They hurt our grandfather.'' We thought again and again. ''They may have kidnapped our uncle and aunt and cousin too. And our new siblings.'' The former had always seemed invincible to Elsie. A pillar as great and proud and tall as her own great-grandfather. A hero to rival Siegfried and Achilles and Theseus. Someone who could not be brought low. And yet... And yet... ''They will pay.'' The voice of Pool Cecil resurfaced. Standing out past the blur that was our connection. ''They will all pay.'' We looked at Cecil''s Analyzer. [Vitality: 147 -> 147.2 (12 days) - (Monster hunting - estimated 7, 399 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated 93, 112 specimens killed indirectly. Absorbing additional processed Magic via a Skill. Continuous self-experimentation. Experimentation with skills.)] [Endurance: 146.7 -> 147 (12 Days) - (Monster hunting - estimated 7, 399 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated 93, 112 specimens killed indirectly. Absorbing additional processed Magic via a Skill. Continuous self-experimentation. Experimentation with skills.)] [Potency: 118.8 -> 120.1 (12 Days) - (Monster hunting - estimated 7, 399 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated 93, 112 specimens killed indirectly. Absorbing additional processed Magic via a Skill. Continuous self-experimentation. Experimentation with skills.)] [Precision: 126.6 -> 127.2 (12 Days) - (Monster hunting - estimated 7, 399 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated 93, 112 specimens killed indirectly. Absorbing additional processed Magic via a Skill. Continuous self-experimentation. Experimentation with skills. Exercises involving Instant Activation. Exercises involving Free-Form Magic.)] [Fortitude: 144.9 -> 145 (12 Days) - (Monster hunting - estimated 7, 399 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated 93, 112 specimens killed indirectly. Absorbing additional processed Magic via a Skill. Continuous self-experimentation. Experimentation with skills.)]
Name: Cecil Fowler
Core: [Life] (7th Stage) / Gains skills from: [Adaptation] / [Constitution] / [Healing] / [Hunger] / [Effort] / [Animal] / [Plant]
Level: 3
Vitality: 147.2
Endurance: 147
Potency: 120.1
Precision: 127.2
Fortitude: 145
Skills: [Drain] / [Perseverance] / [Heal] / [Bio-Engineer] / [Spawn] / [Terraform] / [Over-Mind] / [Dungeoneer] / [Seeker-Mind] / [Assimilate] / [Stored Potential]
We had been lax. We had been too focused on schoolwork and catching up. We had been too preoccupied by things that didn''t matter. ''By distractions.'' We realized sourly. That would end tonight. We kept sending Magic into the walls. Feeling the very stones beating like a million, million hearts in concert with our own. Then we set about [Spawning] units. Thousands. Tens of thousands. Riflelings and Sniperlings and Shotgunlings. Shockers and Torchers and Corroders. Venomlings and Napalmlings and Siege Slimes. Infector Spiders and Freezers and Masterminds. Subverters and Saboteurs and Swarm Harpies. Swarmlings and Burrower Roaches and Swarm Queens. Spymasters and High Harpies and Sage Minds to command them. Most importantly, though, was the Pool. One jam-packed with purified Magic oozing out from the walls. Connected to the Dungeon Core itself. The very beating heart and soul of the Dungeon. We allowed our [Heal] Skill to enter into overdrive. Keeping grandpa alive. All while Magic was forced into all three of our bodies. Keeping his own shell from withering under whatever affliction he''d bee struck with, while feeding us the same kind of processed energies Pool-Cecil had feasted on. We closed our eyes then, and saw through every one of the tens of thousands of soldiers skittering about the walls and ceiling. This floor, this throne room, would keep descending in its entirety, while the rest of the Dungeon expanded above us. While the intruders bashed their hosts bloody upon our gates. They were coming now. In bigger numbers and much better armed. Police and the throngs of armed civilians trying to get a better look at the dead Distraction and the state troopers now arriving alongside the tanks and the other attack helicopters. ''They are victims too.'' I mused. ''They are not to blame for what has happened. They had no way of knowing.'' ''But we must keep them at bay. We must keep them away. For their own good, as well as ours.'' Yes. The people above did not have Cores yet. They did not have magic. Chances were most of them didn''t really believe in it. Even after the food they ate vanished into their stomachs and didn''t produce any waste. Magic was just such a thing. Admitting that it was real, admitting that science could not account for certain forces and that all laws of physics would soon be turned on their head was... Frightening. Exciting. New and novel and incredible. ''We must control ourselves.'' We reminded the three voices. Cecil, Elsie and the Pool. ''The people above us haven''t done anything wrong. They are hungry and cold and afraid. We can help them It was always in the plan to help them. Forget Carlyle''s plans. They''ve fallen apart. We can grow enough food on the surface to feed a hundred, hundred cities. We will need to send units and Magic far away from here, so that no one can connect the food production with the Dungeon itself. But we should still try to bring life to the surrounding countryside. We should not attack any of those who come to us with empty bellies.'' But if they descended... Then they would be pushed back. With enough force to give them a challenge. Enough force to give them Cores of their own. If they delved deeper though... ''No.'' We decided. Our rage letting the Pool rise to the surface for a brief instant. ''Grandpa is here. Grandpa is weak. We will not let him die. We will continue to heal him.'' We paused so that all three voices could come together. ''To the people of the city, we will be saviors. To the people seeking magic, we will be teachers. And to the people seeking grandpa...'' All the units shivered as one. As did the walls and the stone and cement they were connected to. Until the very foundations of the Earth shook with rage. "We will be death." Intermission: The First Challengers. "Hey Johnny! Check this out! I think it twitched!" Gunther called out. Poking one of the giant monster caterpillar''s legs with the butt of his rifle. "Dammit man! Stop tempting fate! That thing''s farts could be radioactive for all your dumbass knows! Get away from there!" Gunther, did not look convinced. But Gunther was an imbecile. I may not have been the brightest guy myself, but I had cousins who were doctors and chemists. People who worked in virology labs with chemicals that had very ominous sounding names. One time, two of them had been speaking in hushed tones over some wildlife specimens they''d caught. A wild boar that seemed to shrug off low-caliber rounds as if they were toy pellets. The thing had apparently broken out of containment and made a mess of the lab it was kept in, as well as three other adjacent labs. Even going so far as to crash through a shelf containing all kinds of chemicals with even scarier sounding names. Things like Bromine or Hydrochloric acid. They had said that the boar had shrugged those off too. A fact that seemed to scare them, even more than the story about the bullets. ''And now we have a literal kaiju running loose.'' I thought sourly. ''Only one so far, but that''s probably subject to change. That thing took a bunch of HIMARS and a literal artillery barrage from both land and air and it still kept moving for a little while after.'' The people who were often terminally online were saying that it was magic. Though those people were also the kind who said that corporations had bought out government figures and that the president was secretly a lizard person and that North Korea''s leader had recently been assassinated and replaced with a body double. ''They will say all kinds of nonsense for attention.'' I decided. The more likely scenario was that some corporation or another had been dumping illegal toxic waste down here for decades upon decades. The kind of radioactive sludge that turned animals into mutants and turtles into pizza-loving ninjas. ''Marie Curie was an expert.'' I recalled. ''And Marie Curie is dead as a doornail. Radium poisoning left her dead as a doornail. Her, and all the other pseudo-experts and hucksters that peddled miracle cures based on radiation.'' I dimly recalled hearing about some guy, an athlete of some kind, who took a bunch of Radium treatments back when that was still somethin sane people thought was a good idea. ''The man was buried in a lead casket, if I''m remembering things correctly. His jaw sloughed off like week-old pudding. And while he was still alive to boot.'' Some people said that these new fruits and vegetables were proof of magic, because they tasted like heaven on earth and left you toned as a runner while also curing things like Cancer. Even for advanced cases. All while the people eating them didn''t need to poo them out. ''Fools.'' I thought again. ''Gullible fools. Nothing could possibly be that good. This is probably the result of some marketing campaign. It''s all snake oil and snake oil salesmen. They will see that soon, when the side effects start to appear.'' "Dammit Gunther I told you to stop poking that thing!" I yelled as my fellow soldier somehow got it into his head to start cutting at the thing''s skin with his combat knife. The blade was thick, sturdy and long. And deadly sharp besides. The kind of thing that could be used to slice through reenforce ropes in a pinch and to gut an enemy soldier who didn''t take the hint that close-quarters combat was a very bad idea. Gunther poked it. Again and again. But he did not manage to leave so much as a scar. He actually had the nerve to look disappointed at that. ''Lucky idiot.'' I thought with mounting fury. ''That thing could have bled out flesh-eating bacteria or acid or mustard gas for all you know. You''re lucky to be alive.'' Some time ago, some person was the first-ever victim of Denge fever or West Nile Virus or whatever. That guy most definitely did not have a good time. Watching Gunther now, all I could think off was him getting caterpillar flu or whatever and ending up in the hospital with bubbling green pustules bursting all over his face. Any other man would have found such a fate cathartic. Only I knew he''d be taking loads of other people with him if whatever he caught happened to be contagious. Gunther noticed my stare and flashed me a cocky grin. "Now now! Don''t get like that with me Johnny!" He called out. "It''s not my fault you''re scared of bugs!" His grin grew more impish. More mocking. "Tell you what! I''ll be the bigger man and I''ll let you stand back while I take point. I''ll keep you safe from all the creepy crawleys in there!" The comment made me furious, but only for a second. If there really was some great big monster down there waiting to bite our heads off, then the last thing I wanted was to take point myself.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Gunther might have been cursed with half a rotted peanut for a brain, and all the cunning of an old koala with chlamydia, but if he was offering.... Well. Then declining him would be almost as foolish as imitating him. Almost. "All right then. After you." I motioned to the hole in the ground. "There doesn''t seem to be a need for stairs or ropes right now. It''s a pretty easy incline. I''ll be standing guard right behind you." ''Ready to bolt the other way once a giant wasp has laid its eggs on your dumb ass.'' Went unsaid I had seen very few documentaries of late, but the last one I''d seen was about the so-called Emerald Wasp. A delightful little critter that reproduced by zombifying roaches, before impregnating them and buggering off somewhere else. The roach would survive... for a time. Until all those fertilized wasp eggs began to hatch. One by one. Until they all began to devour the roach from the inside out. All while the roach was helpless to stop them. Supposedly, the larva was inherently smart enough to leave the vital organs for last, so as to extend the roach''s life, and its suffering, for as long as possible. ''Yes. No. No thank you sir. Better you than me. I''ve seen Extraterrestrials enough times, thank you very much. I don''t fancy myself a mother just yet.'' Miraculously, Gunther stopped at that. Paling, as his face turned to the dark, ominously large hole in the cement. ''Well at least there might be hope for him yet.'' "Reynolds! Redfort! Stop touching each other''s parts and get over here!" My body moved on instinct. Turning around and lugging my equipment to where captain Moor. was standing. Next to him were several more officers, as well as actual, proper soldiers. Armed with guns that made ours look like BB guns and body armor that came straight out of a movie. I cringed a little upon seeing them. My right leg getting those jolts of phantom pain again at the spot where the shrapnel had dug in. ''Bloody landmines.'' I thought bitterly. ''Three surgeries and the pain is still there.'' The newest doctors I''d seen had told me it was all in my head. The old one had told me it was nerve damage and there was nothing they could do. These days, I preferred to listen to the new ones, if only because that left me some hope that it might get better someday. ''But these kids don''t look like they''ve come across any landmines in some country they can''t pronounce or find on a map.'' I observed. ''If anything, they look fresh off the boat. Fancy new soldiers in fancy new uniforms. Getting their hands on a few fancy guns for the first time.'' That was worrisome. Nothing bad about it in principle, as everyone would need to start somewhere and these guys at least looked like they''d had proper training with how those muscles bulged out and how easily they carried those backpacks around. In practice, well... There had always been a certain hesitation in my old unit when we were getting new guys in. They always seemed surprised by the reality of the job. That is, how it was mostly sitting around in a big expensive super-armored car waiting for something, anything, to happen. All while baking under the sun and staring at big empty fields where nothing and no one moved. The boredom was crushing. Almost as much as the sun or the humidity. It made them lazy and complacent. So much so that they seemed genuinely surprised after stepping on a landmine and getting themselves torn to shreds. ''Not now.'' I chided myself. ''Not right this moment. There ae more important things to focus on.'' "We''ll be helping." The captain informed us as soon as we''d gotten closer. "Sergeant Martin here will lead his men inside. They will go down the tunnel and see where it leads. Within reason of course. We have some witnesses that claim some of the people who went in haven''t come out yet, and the army units don''t have enough men on hand to take on the operation themselves." I looked back at the soldiers. Realizing that there were a couple of dozen of them. At most. ''Ah.'' I realized. ''All the guys in the helicopters belonged to the air-force and they need to refuel in case another kaiju pops its ugly head out of the ground. The guys in the tanks are probably busy reloading and setting up cover in case smaller targets show up. Which leaves a few infantrymen to scout out the hole all by their lonesome.'' "I say we''ll be helping." The captain clarified. "But in reality, this isn''t a part of your duties. We''re asking for volunteers in order to escort in paramedics. You''d be trialing behind the actual soldiers and carrying medical supplies to help stabilize anyone we find." He narrowed his eyes before sighing. "I''ll say this again with more emphasis. I''m asking for volunteers to go with me, in hopes of rescuing people. I''m not forcing or commanding you to go." ''Well thank goodness for that much.'' Captain Moor could be an ass, on occasion, but he was an all-right guy. All things considered. I was about to politely decline his offer, when some woman sprinted past the barricades and tried to make for the big hole in the ground. One of the soldiers tackled her from the side before she could get much further however and they both fell in a heap of flailing limbs. Him cursing at her to stop and her wailing something else entirely. "Please! My son is down there!" She called out. "He''s been following some group online and he came here thinking he''d get powers after what happened in Alaska! Please! You have to go get him!" My eyes shifted slightly. Towards the dead, rapidly cooling mass of the horrific caterpillar monster. ''What are the odds that the kid is still alive in that thing''s stomach?'' I wondered. One look at the captain told me he was thinking more or less the same thing. "Don''t worry ma''am!" Gunther said before either of us could stop him. "We''re the best of the Detroit PD! We''d never leave your son in there alone." He ran up to her and clasped her hands in his. "If there is even a chance that he''s alive, we''ll find him and bring him home safe." His eyes twinkled with pure-hearted innocence. And then, as if that weren''t enough, the cameras in the distance started making those annoying clinking noises. Which meant a lot of people were taking pictures. Which meant that at least a few were taking videos and uploading all of what they captured live on Ourtube or whatever. ''Oh come on man!'' I whined internally. ''I''ve been screwed over by the VA enough for five lifetimes! I''m not getting into some monster-infested pit to save some kid who thought it was a good idea to go spelunking in the middle of the night!'' If anything, this was what Darwin awards were for. The kid had done the gene pool a favor by taking himself out of it as far as I was concerned. In fact, his mother should probably be thankful he lasted this long to begin with. I would have thought someone like that would''ve checked out much earlier when they decided they would try lead paint or that looking both ways before crossing the road simply wasn''t for them. I said all of that in my head. My mind already working overtime to conjure up all the different ways in which we could get horrifically mauled to death by a giant mantis or whatever else. But then I saw the drones. The civilian drones with the cameras and the ones belonging to the news crews beside them. And I knew the captain saw them as well. I swallowed a lump in my throat then, and promised myself that, if we made it out, I was going to give Gunther the biggest beating he''d ever received. Chapter 83: The Delvers Come to Play. The first floor was still that same great maze of narrow, interconnected tunnels. Some going left and some going right. Some going up and some leaning downwards, while others still looped around in such a way that they went over and under each other in ways that confused the mind. Also, the walls shifted on command. Which was something they probably wouldn''t see coming. The idea for this one was simple. Have anyone who needed training bash themselves bloody on Sunflower Brutes and Rose Goblins and Tulip Lamias. So that they kept hardening themselves safter every battle with little in the way of danger. In contrast, the second floor was still the very picture of a lush field. One that only got wider and more open as we kept ordering the sky-shroom variants to keep growing and the drones at their bases to keep chipping away at the solid bedrock around them. All while letting more and more Magic flow from the Dungeon Core itself into the walls to keep them expanding naturally. We filled it with stronger, sturdier stocks of Sunflower Brutes, but we also peppered in other kinds of life. Rippers made from vines and thorns instead of meat and bone and sinew. Foxes with tails that ended in a collection of hissing, biting serpents. Badgers that spat out streams of noxious fumes. Sparrows that emitted deafening shrieks. So loud that they became a weapon all their own. Barbed, thorny bushes that lashed out with lacerating tentacles whenever anything got too close. With roots that rose up from the ground to tangle up feet and bring warriors to the ground. Simpler Green-Bean shooters reminiscent of those first ones we''d made on accident. Ones that skittered about on four insectile legs while taking aim. So that they could sustain their fire while scampering up walls and ceilings. Giant ants that resembles our Drones. With thicker carapaces meant to endure blows and pincers meant for crushing rather than digging. Gorillas and Bears with bodies made of vines and leaves and hardened bark. Just like those I''d first used in Alaska. Groups of buzzing bees that swarmed out of hives stuck up high on the crowns of the sky-shrooms. With stingers full of the fungal concoction they carried. Gargoyles like those found on the fourth floor of the Dunstonberry Dungeon. Along with giant toads that spat acid and scorpions that moved about in groups. Ghouls that resembled shambling, desiccated corpses, while in actuality being empty sacks of skin filled with fungal spores and sacks of acid that would splash out if ruptured. Centaurs that would run proudly up and down the grasslands while swinging slings and throwing makeshift spears. And to top them all off, the two nastiest surprises to guard the entrance to the deeper levels. A gigantic winged lion with the tail of a scorpion and a hundred serpents for a mane to act as the boss. And something even worse besides. Gnomes. Hundreds of them. With Elsie''s side of the Magic to enable them to read surface thoughts. Bellow that, the third floor was another, much more expansive series of corridors. Only these ones were filled to bursting with puddles of corrosive bacteria and other, less wholesome surprises. A few of the interconnected chambers were also slightly more open. Though these would be scant in number and a dozen meters across at most. Not to mention filled with man-sized spiders that started to reach the upper tiers of level 2. Despite all this, the greatest hazard was the muck that lay strewn across all the floors. Rotting offal so foul that it threatened to strangle the weaker units I had birthed there. It was sticky too. Like hot wet glue just waiting for some unfortunate soul to step in it. Whomever did wouldn''t be getting out anytime soon. ''Not to mention that the struggle will signal every spider in the near vicinity to come running along the ceiling.'' We thought again. ''The swampy mixture of the third will not be anywhere near as lethal as the one on the fourth, but it will by no means be pleasant.'' The idea was that this would be the final barrier for anyone trying to kill monsters and train themselves up to get a good Core. To that end, we would employ fear and dread to ward off most attackers. Even the bravest people we knew would second guess a tunnel filled to bursting with spiders after all. Not to mention one that was also cramped and wet and devoid of any and all sources of light. Add in a couple million skittering Burrower Roaches into the mix and only the desperate or truly insane would dare advance. Even to us, the mere idea of trudging through darkness, within walls so tightly packed that we''d have to walk sideways in some areas, while also having to fight off thousands of spiders as they crawled all over our faces and down our backs, while also dealing with roaches as big as thumbs digging beneath our muscles and into our tendons.... Yeah.... The message would be loud and clear. Get out. Or else. Beyond that was the no-man''s land of the fourth floor. The space where our strongest units were currently being made. Fittingly, we had designed the space to resemble a muddy field. One littered with trenches and Napalmlings that dwelled just beneath the surface. Ready to explode upon contact with any interloper. Each trench would have firing positions that granted advantageous vantage points from which to shoot at the intruders. All while the larger Devastators rained biomass on top of the would-be attackers and Harpies swooped down from above to carry off unsuspecting prey.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. It was meant to be a close approximation to what we had managed against the classes back when Pool Cecil had taken control. So that whomever sought to get past the defenses would have to fight tooth and nail for every single inch of ground, while being bled and shot at from all sides. The mud was a danger all on its own as well. Being very close to the samples on the third in terms of how thick and viscous it was, while also having loads more sucking power with which to drag entire horses and tanks into the muck. ''Not to mention all the little critters that make their home in there.'' We mused. ''It seems singularly cruel, even for us.'' But there was nothing for it. The smaller side tunnels that our drones were digging out at this very moment would all be connected to the fourth floor. From there, the Saboteurs and Queens would be able to escape to the surface. Both to grow more food away from the city where their production wouldn''t be linked to the Dungeon and to also act as reconnaissance units far from where we were. They would be our eyes and ears while we lay in waiting. Digging and growing and birthing new horrors to keep Casper away. ''We need to know what is happening. We need to know if and when help is coming. We need to know if Casper has been caught. Or if he is still at large.'' At level 5, the man might as well have been invincible for the likes of us. A bloody monster to dwarf the most horrific nightmares we could conjure into existence. ''And yet, it will not always be that way.'' The part of Pool Cecil purred within us. ''We are in the greatest Pool we have ever built. Getting fed directly from the Dungeon Core. We will be unstoppable soon.'' ''Soon.'' We agreed. Turning our minds to other things. One of Pool Cecil''s greatest mistakes, back when he was alone, had been Hubris. The idea that he alone was above all others and that he had nothing to gain by fraternizing with his lessers. We knew better. Part of the Saboteurs and the Queen''s mission would be to grow food with the Magic we imparted in ways that could not be traced to the Dungeon. While it was important, that was but one objective. Another, equally important task was to [Heal] people above. Indiscriminately. If Magic, not paltry magic tricks but actual, real Magic was going to get out, then it only made sense to get ahead of the discourse. People in general would hesitate to condemn or blindly persecute something when their old grandpa got straight back up after an illness or when their grandmother fought against the Alzheimer''s and remembered their faces. And that would only serve as the beginning. The Magic food could do most of that already, if the rumors could be believed. Regrowing legs or arms or mending bones or nerves were a whole different subject. ''Gratitude and awe will breed fascination and trust.'' We thought to ourselves. ''Those we heal will sooner die than let Magic be suppressed. Especially when it puts food in their bellies and gives them new powers.'' That was another aspect of the Saboteur''s mission. Transformed into humans, they were to go up and down the state. Telling all who would listen that they got their Magic by fighting monsters. That it was the best way to get Magic and that all other methods were nonsense. It wasn''t strictly true, as hard work would help, but it would likely boost the average Core stage a few points up. The local police and the army might try to stem the tide of people coming to the Dungeon, but we had plans for them as well. ''Speaking of which, here they come now.'' The people descending through the entrance were coming in two waves. The forefront was made up of individuals in army camo gear. All kinds of greens and browns splattered over a full suit of heavy armor. Itself being worn over a thick uniform. We cringed. Wearing armor was not a bad idea in and of itself. In fact, most everyone back in town wore some sort of armor. But it usually wasn''t that heavy, as mobility was always considered to be a key aspect in fighting. Moreover, these guys weren''t even level 1. Meaning they''d be sweating bullets the whole way down on top of being overburdened by the weight of all that gear. ''Can''t really blame them because they don''t know what they''re getting into, but it still isn''t going to be ideal. Although... come to think of it. The weight will mean they are constantly struggling while moving around areas of thick ambient magic. That might be a blessing in disguise. Maybe we should make it easier for them?'' We sent Magic into [Terraform] and [Dungeoneer]. Lowering the temperatures in the first floor to match the cool weather outside. The first group noticed after a few minutes. Their own eyes widening as their breaths now became mist in the darkened air. A few stopped dead in their tracks to pay closer attention to the walls and floors and faintly bioluminescent ceiling. But only for a few seconds. They marched on after that. Flashlights cutting through the still somewhat dark passages. Behind them, the second group were slowly making their way forwards. Only half of these guys were military, as far as I could tell. The other half were an odd mix of SWAT police troopers, regularly dressed police officers and paramedics. Seeing the police down here was, not unthinkable, but not the smartest thing they could have done either. Not by a long shot. In our opinion, their efforts would have been better spent managing the crowds that were still forming up on the surface even now. Seeing the paramedics however... That was odd. Mostly because the army guys had their own medics on hand and because those medics were at the very least, armed and armored. The paramedics that were coming down either had no experience shooting guns, or they only had experience with small handguns at shooting ranges. We searched through their minds and quickly found the reason for them being here. ''Fools.'' We thought at once. ''That woman wasn''t the man''s mother. She was a senior member in their operation. She''s looking to see what became of the guys she had here stealing cars and if the money they had was still on hand.'' Those were questions we couldn''t have answered in any case. Casper had been the one to ferry the group of would-be robbers back to town. Supposedly. They were supposed to have been dropped off at town and then put in the jail for the night. So that a judge could get to their case in the morning and figure out whether we''d send them back with some incriminating evidence or otherwise welcome them into our little secret community. All of them could be in Cancun for all we knew. Yet even if that wasn''t the case, coming down here with the information these guys had on hand was really, really stupid. Given how large and durable we''d made the Distraction out to be, this place could have been filled with nothing but human-piranha hybrids for all they knew. Sending a bunch of unarmed civilians down here was just mean. And a poor use of resources to boot. ''Although, hmn. Human-piranha hybrids. Hmn. There might be something there. Let''s work on those and place them around the third floor. Also, let''s flood some of the tunnels to make sure they can''t be traversed easily and fill the flooded areas will stinging jellyfish to make things more interesting.'' We watched as some of the men in the back group started squabbling with each other. Not loudly, but loud enough that the sounds echoed briefly off the walls before dissipating into nothingness. We watched both groups descend further and further. Walking roughly the length of one mall as the tunnels took them left and right and left again, before spinning them around a circular staircase leading downwards into an open chamber some 20 meters across. That was when we decided to spring the trap. No sooner had the second group finished entering, than the door sealed shut behind them. A massive slab of solid stone falling from the ceiling like a hammer from the heavens. Trapping them all in the cubic chamber. The soldiers cursed. The one police man cursed even louder. Then they were trying to break through. Pulling shovels out of their packs and trying to make dents in the stone or perhaps trying to find a gap where the rock was loose and soft. We watched them and... for a moment, felt a twinge of pity. But only for a moment. Then the other side of the room opened up and the sunflower brutes started streaming in. Prepper鈥檚 Dungeon Chapter 84: The Delvers Come to Shoot. The room was large and cavernous. With largely barren stone walls surrounding all the new delvers like some gargantuan coffin. The design made it so that each and every one of the attackers would have a perfectly clear line of sight to shoot at the Sunflower Brutes streaming in by the dozen. While also making it easy for our units to swarm forwards as one big wall of plant-like biomass. The fact that all our units would be decimated at once was not a problem. As a matter of fact, it was the intended outcome. The soldiers and the officers and even the paramedics wouldn¡¯t be getting any kind of improvement from simply shooting the monsters they came across and the whole point of this trip was for them to see what the Dungeon was for themselves and spread the word. The point was for them to tell as many people as possible what happened and for that information to draw others to the Dungeon. Because if Casper really was trying to bring down great-grandpa Carlyle¡¯s plans, then everything needed to be moved up in the schedule. The people of the world needed to have somewhere accessible for them to train in and it was our duty to have as many people as possible get decent cores. ¡®May as well do some good while waiting for the traitor to come get us.¡¯ We had already begun formulating plans for when that time came of course. Not just the obvious ones relying on the much-improved Pool and the Magic absorbed from the Core, but ones that made better use of the¡­ resources we had available. And the Skills our new continuous mind shared. ¡®Patience.¡¯ We chided. ¡®Patience. The Drones on the fourth are digging their tunnels and our combined minds are hard at work on the experiments. Patience, for Casper cannot outpace our growth.¡¯ He would come. Of that we were certain. It was the only thing that made sense from his point of view. The Dungeon Core was too great a price. Even if Mercy¡¯s core could replicate the food growth, the Dungeon Core was too useful, too dangerous to be left alone. ¡®He will come.¡¯ We reasserted. ¡®He will come and we will be ready.¡¯ We commanded our nearest Queens to shift their attentions to our new experiment, as some of the Core¡¯s overflowing Magic went towards keeping it together for a bit longer this time. After that, our attention went back to the cubic chamber. Where the sounds of gunshots were bouncing around and echoing endlessly off the barren walls. Deafening the human occupants even as the Sunflower Brutes were torn to bloody ribbons that bled greenish-black ooze. Yet for all that, the soldiers kept shooting. Kept screaming. Unloading everything they had in the face of an impossible retreat. ¡°AAAAAAAAHH!!! HOOOOOLY SHIIIIEEEEETTT!!!¡± ¡°I FUCKING HATE YOU GUNTHER! AAAAAAHH!!!¡± The Brutes kept walking. Kept coming. Three more stepping forwards to soak up hot lead missiles as soon as any one of the frontliners faltered and collapsed. Soon enough, the floor was completely covered in the sticky juices. The biomass seeping into the hardened stones below them, as well as into the soldier¡¯s own boots. Yet the soldiers paid the wet, sticky feelings and the smells and the deafening roars of their own gunfire no heed. They kept firing. And firing. And¡­ ¡°Click.¡± One magazine fell silent. Having devoured its own clip and the extra ammunition the soldier had been carrying. One by one, other joined in the silence. Until all the soldiers and the officers and the paramedics were stuck there. With Brutes in the front and a solid, unyielding wall behind them. With wet, pulpy green ooze below them and the softly-glowing crystals and mushrooms above them. And through it all, the silence reigned supreme. One officer sobbed. ¡°I fucking hate you Gunther.¡± Yet even as he spoke, the police officer in question picked up one of the fallen shovels and ran forwards. ¡°WAAAAAAAAAGGGGG!!!!!¡± The Sunflower Brutes halted. Mostly because we who were controlling them directly were utterly taken aback by the sheer size of this man¡¯s¡­ Well. He was very impressive. The shovel¡¯s edge landed square in the chest of one of the Brutes. The Brute did not budge. ¡°Oh sh¡­¡± The Brute punched him. Hard. The blow sent him flying like a freaking ragdoll. Until the guy struck the other in the back and they all crumpled in one huge pile of loose limbs. ¡®Alright.¡¯ We decided. ¡®We¡¯re sending one Brute at a time for now. That should give them a chance to recover.¡¯ The Brute who had been struck sauntered forwards while the rest stayed back. ¡°Wait!¡± The one called Gunther shouted. ¡°The rest are staying back! I think¡­¡± He gulped.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°I think they¡¯re trying to communicate with us!¡± He stepped forwards while his friend was trying to swipe away the little chirping birds flying by his head. ¡°Are you¡­ are smart?¡± He advanced some more. ¡°Do you come in peace?¡± The Brute punched him and shattered three teeth in his upper jaw. Gunther crumpled like a bunch of wet tissue paper and all the others behind him roared in response. Determined to go down fighting until the last moment. They all surged as one and begun attacking the Sunflower Brute. Hacking off chunks of his spongy muscles and thicker tendons while the Brute slowly tried to swat them away. Now that they were fully immersed in the idea that this was a fight to the death, they started falling into a rhythm. Surrounding the bigger monster like a bunch of cavemen working together to bring down a mammoth. Each person taking light swipes with their shovel without fully committing, before then falling back before the counterattack came from my unit. It took them two minutes to bring down the first Brute. Which was a bit surprising because we had intentionally made them as strong as an early level 1 so that they could be farmed easily. ¡®Though we could have been mistaken about how weak those monsters were supposed to be. Rippers did go down to single spear thrust back in the day. Though we did have our friends there to help us. And Coach Homer. Hmnn.¡¯ We began using [Spawn] to birth a special Saboteurs from the walls beyond the chamber, but otherwise allowed the fight to keep raging as it had been. The Brutes came one at a time. Slowly but steadily draining the delver¡¯s stamina. A few gasps of exertion soon turned into a few dozen that came and went without being acknowledged. The sounds of panting now resonating within the cubic chambers as the musical sound of gunfire had moments before. We could see them now. Tiring like normal men. Their movements slowing once the adrenaline began to wear off and their lungs could no longer function without giving off the feeling of being on fire. Yet the men kept fighting and when one seemed to falter and slow, another would push them away before swatting the latest Brute¡¯s massive arms away with the edge of his shovel. Those edges were becoming more and more blunted however. The steel being ground down and bent out of place through repeated strikes. It was a slow process, but one that did not look as if it could be overcome. The soldiers did not stop. They knew, of course. But none of them ever considered to stop the fight. Even the paramedics had joined in by this point. Grabbing the fallen, twitching limbs of the fallen Brutes or the empty rifles and using them as improvised clubs. ¡®They are wonderful.¡¯ We thought to ourselves. ¡®This, this is how humans should be. They should be working together to beat all the odds, regardless of how bleak the picture looks. This is the true essence of humanity. This is what we¡¯ve been fighting to preserve. The ambition that we have been hungering for all this time.¡¯ We did not increase the difficulty, but merely allowed the Brutes to keep streaming in. One after another. Slowly wearing down the delvers until their limbs felt as heavy as iron bars and their lungs burned so hot that the air did not reach their arteries. Until their eyes strained to stay open and their feet could no longer support their weight. The moment had to be perfect. And roughly 24 minutes later, that moment came. The Saboteur broke through the Brute¡¯s rear lines. Slashing multiple units to bloody ribbons with a bastard sword made from level 3 bones. All while still retaining the shape of a human being. ¡°Come with me if you want to live!¡± My unit shouted. It was a small thing. A few words spoken over the din of battle. We had not even expected everyone to hear them. Yet the sudden appearance sent a jolt of energy surging up the delver¡¯s bodies. Their beaten, battered shells standing up straighter as their eyes burned once more. ¡°WAAAAAAAAAGH!¡± The same man shouted. Now driving his nearly-useless shovel into the Brute in front of him. ¡°WAAAAAAAAAGH!¡± The others called out in turn. Rushing onwards and ramming the Brutes blocking their paths with their own weapons or shoulders or otherwise kicking them in the center with all the strength they could muster. An opening had been made, and all the others ran in. Joining my disguised Saboteur as he kept cutting and slicing and dicing his way through the remaining sacrificial units with all the grace and power that came with his level. He must have looked like a warrior out of legend then. A Samson or Hercules who could move with superhuman speed and strike with superhuman strength. With prowess that defied the limits of what mortal men should have been capable of. In other times, that prowess might have aroused suspicion, but now, it only lit the fires of hope within their hearts. ¡®Just a little more!¡¯ They all thought in unison. ¡®Just a little more and I¡¯ll make it! Just a little more and I¡¯ll survive! Just a little more and I¡¯ll see my family again! Just a little more! Just a little more!¡¯ And so they fought on. Well beyond their own limits. With the promise of survival leading them on. With the promise of another day being dangled in front of them. ¡®They are magnificent.¡¯ We thought in awe. ¡®Like diamonds in the rough. They have the makings of true heroes. Is this¡­ is this what we looked like to coach Russell? All those times we refused to give up? All those times we swallowed our hurt pride and kept running up and down those blasted hills and down the length of the blasted Dungeon? Is this what he saw in us?¡¯ ¡®It is the beauty of effort.¡¯ We answered ourselves with smug satisfaction. ¡®Humans are the most powerful, the most beautiful, the most¡­ human, when they are giving their all. This contrast is why slackers are so ugly. So full of wasted potential. This indominable spirit is what makes us special. This hunger for hope is what makes us different from simple beasts. This is why we decided to strive for our ambition. So that everyone, even those born with weaker Cores could have the same chance to shine.¡¯ We nodded to ourselves, and begun working on the new Skill once more. Weaving flesh and bone together as Elsie and her ilk weaved minds. ¡®It will be ready soon.¡¯ We mused. ¡®Though there are still kinks to be ironed out.¡¯ ¡®Doesn¡¯t matter.¡¯ We chided ourselves. ¡®It will be enough to last us a few seconds. More than enough to kill Casper.¡¯ ¡®If Casper is foolish enough to stay still for a few seconds.¡¯ We bit back. ¡®It needs more work. Much more work. We must work harder ourselves. Faster.¡¯ The flesh undid itself and went back to how it once was and we cursed in turn. Letting the queens help while our attention went back to the Saboteur. ¡°What the fuck were those things!?¡± The brave man asked. Kicking the nearby corpse with the very last shreds of strength he had left. ¡°Sunflower Brutes.¡± The Saboteur answered flatly. ¡°They are the usual monsters of this Dungeon.¡± He lied. ¡°The walls here keep birthing them and they then get together to fight off anything that comes down.¡± ¡°Well it sure would have been nice of them to give us a head start.¡± Another man, a soldier spat. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have gone down here into the freaking Stygian Abyss looking for some dead kid if I knew there were going to be freaking plant monsters popping out of the fracking walls like fracking mushrooms all over the place! I mean, shit! We got some white prosperous in storage somewhere. Probably. Let¡¯s just get back to the surface and fill this place up until you can see the smoke cloud from Cancun!¡± All the other soldiers agreed with this opinion. Vehemently so. ¡°Okay, that¡¯s one way to approach the issue.¡± The Saboteur spoke softly. ¡°But what are you going to do when the other monsters start popping out on the surface because you destroyed the Dungeon?¡± None of the soldiers said anything. ¡°What do you¡­ Oh.¡± One of them narrowed his eyes. ¡°You¡¯re not a civi, are you sir?¡± ¡°No. And I lost my identification, so you¡¯ll have to take me at my word.¡± The Saboteur lied effortlessly. ¡°The monsters here don¡¯t just try to kill us. They make us stronger when we fight them. Make us capable of doing things that normal humans would never be able to do.¡± ¡°Like that kid said in the video.¡± Another man interrupted. ¡°Not everything he said was true, especially not about the food, but yes.¡± My pawn confirmed. ¡°The best thing to do now is for everyone in the city to take turns coming down here and beat up some monsters with whatever they can get their hands on. The authorities are already on the issue of distributing food, but people need to get Cores in order to be able to defend themselves. That it the official position of my agency.¡± ¡°Which is?¡± ¡°None of your business.¡± The men deflated somewhat at that. A few even getting hard looks from their fellows as they glared at the unit in disguise. No one shouted in protest though. ¡°All right.¡± The brave one spoke through a hiss. ¡°What are these Cores we keep hearing about and how do we go about getting them?¡± Prepper鈥檚 Dungeon Chapter 85: The Delvers Come to be Tricked. ¡°So, it¡¯s like a video game!¡± the cop called Gunther Reynolds spoke out loud. Looking remarkably happy for someone with so many bruises. ¡°We kill monsters with melee weapons and we get magic experience! We work out in magic places and get magic experience! We get enough magic experience and we get magic powers in the form of Cores!¡± He looked¡­ remarkably like a puppy as he spoke. It made us feel bad. ¡°Did I get all that right?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± The Saboteur confirmed. The brave man, John Redfort, sighed in response. ¡°On my gosh Gunther. Shut the eff up.¡± He groaned again and rubbed his face with his dirty hands. ¡°We just got told the world is gonna end soon and that what¡¯s left will be some kinda magicpunk eugenic dystopia. This is not the time to sound happy.¡± ¡°But magic!¡± Gunther countered. ¡°Was he dropped as a kid?¡± Becca, one of the actual military personnel asked from the side. ¡°Hard to say.¡± Fergus, another soldier, answered in turn. ¡°I¡¯ve seen similar things before. Got myself these cousins out in the sticks. At some point, vodka wasn¡¯t cutting it so they turned to huffing paint and drinking rubbing alcohol. Could be something like that.¡± Gunther didn¡¯t seem to pay them or any of the other whisperers any mind. Instead, his own mind was reveling in the confirmation of several lifelong dreams. Not only was magic now real and in his face, but he had a certifiable way of getting it for himself. ¡°Okay.¡± Mr. Redfort interrupted. Finally drawing his hands way from his face. ¡°So what do we call you?¡± ¡°Mr. Muller.¡± The Saboteur answered at once. Now drawing on Elsie¡¯s own knowledge about her family¡¯s activities. Herr Muller was a real person. In a way. It was one of the aliases James Robertson used when drip feeding information to actual intelligence agencies around the globe. As far as the western governments were concerned, he was an asset who did a bit of weapons smuggling and private security from time to time. All while providing a steady supply of real information about certain cartels, terrorist cells and human trafficking operations Carlyle and co came across on their day to day. Herr Muller would ostensibly volunteer this information in exchange for favours, earning him a reputation for being reliable and discreet. On the books, he was a private contractor to be used on occasion. In reality, several of the higher ups at some agencies were ready to throw him a few pardons if it ever came to that. All in exchange for further service. That meant any agency catching a whiff of this operation after the fact would simply assume Herr Muller was here on behalf of another country¡¯s agency or agencies and that the other guys weren¡¯t being completely honest about how much they knew. ¡®It will mean some burnt bridges in the long run, but Herr Muller was always a disposable mask anyway.¡¯ We mused. ¡®It will all be worth it if we make things easier for great-grandpa. Besides, having the world learn about magic was always the plan. Might as well make it so that the entire city gets cores as soon as possible.¡¯ ¡°Okay Mr. Muller. So, what happens now?¡± He asked more sternly. ¡°What¡¯s the plan going forward? How do we contain this place so that the monsters don¡¯t overrun the city?¡± ¡°Satchel charges, I assume.¡± Fergus piped up. ¡°Or some other kind of explosive ordinance. We¡¯re not getting shot at, so it should be a simple thing to bring down a few more squads with plenty more ammo to cover the bomb guys when we start planting the stuff. I reckon blowing the entrance a few hundred feet into the sky should collapse most of the tunnels beneath us.¡± Yet another soldier nodded. ¡°Not a bad idea. Even if it doesn¡¯t work out, it should buy the brass enough time to bring up more toys. I figure a couple flights of Apaches should be enough to bring down anymore caterpillars that come crawling out after.¡± ¡°That won¡¯t work.¡± The Saboteur continued. ¡°The Dungeon will never be destroyed like that. Not that it matters. It won¡¯t help anything.¡± John¡¯s eyebrow rose up. ¡°Okay? So what then?¡± ¡°Get magic for yourselves.¡± The Saboteur¡¯s tongue wagged. ¡°I have swords here. Made from the bones of monsters. It might seem barbaric, but they are much sharper and much more durable than the shovels you were using. Keep killing and killing until you can¡¯t move anymore. Until you feel like your bones are made of jelly and until your lungs are set on fire. Then you¡¯ll see what the killings will give you. You¡¯ll see how much power you get and how much stronger you are. After that¡­¡± The Saboteur shrugged theatrically. ¡°It¡¯ll be time to give the people a shot.¡± Now everyone had their eyebrows raised. Even Gunther. ¡°What exactly do you mean?¡± ¡°I mean exactly what I said. The orders from above are to open the Dungeon to everyone who wants to come. In fact, it is imperative that we get as many people as possible to come down here and fight monsters too.¡± ¡°Okay?¡± Gunther spoke slowly. ¡°I get that. Makes sense. Magic is real so we want as many people as possible to get it. Because I assume the monsters will start coming faster than we can make bullets. But¡­¡± ¡°But that means bringing civies down here to get butchered like stuck pigs.¡± John finished. ¡°We¡¯re not doing that.¡± Fergus announced. ¡°Anyone we send will get killed. That¡¯s stupid. It makes more sense to cordon off the area and bring in the rest of the army down here to get these Cores. We¡¯ll at least be trained. Well. Anyone in the infantry anyway. Those air force guys are probably too fat and drunk to get up from their chairs.¡±Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Yeah probably.¡± Becca agreed. ¡°Dated a guy from the air-force once. Guy was so fat he hadn¡¯t seen his twinkie since the Bush admiration.¡± ¡°Shut up Becca. Nobody cares.¡± Fergus snapped. Then he turned to the Saboteur. ¡°Like we all said. We¡¯re not bringing people off the street down here. That¡¯ll be a bloodbath.¡± ¡°No. It won¡¯t be.¡± The Saboteur countered. ¡°Like I said, these swords have been made in order to kill monsters more effectively. Guns won¡¯t save you anymore. They won¡¯t save anyone. And if you think keeping the people up top from the Dungeon will help them in any way, then you¡¯re higher than Gunther.¡± ¡°Hey!¡± Gunther protested. Everyone ignored him. ¡°The swords and all the other equipment the agency has made will keep people safe as they train. At least until they get decent Cores. And they will be getting decent Cores. It is the only way to survive what is coming.¡± We commanded the Saboteur to move forwards. ¡°If you don¡¯t believe me. Come and try me.¡± John was the very first one to sense the danger. Standing up from his sitting position despite the fatigue drawing him down and taking several steps back. Gunther, on the other hand, looked like he wanted nothing more than to test out someone with real magic. His eyes glistening with barely restrained expectation as his pupils dilated. Then he lunged. Like a football player putting everything into a single, game-changing tackle. The tackle landed. The Saboteur, being level 3, didn¡¯t even budge. Gunther looked up. With a rather guilty expression. The Saboteur picked him up with one hand and threw him across the room. In the same way a normal man might throw around a tiny ragdoll. And like a ragdoll, the man went flying. Landing in a heap of tangled limbs that failed to get back up. Yet we could sense that Gunther was not discouraged by this. Quite the contrary. Gunther¡¯s heart and mind were both afire with longing. Already imagining what he himself could do with that level of strength. ¡°In any case, these are the orders coming from above.¡± The Saboteur lied. ¡°So regardless of what you think, you will work until you get magic for yourselves to make yourselves stronger. Then you will open the Dungeon for everyone else. That is the only way the city will survive. The only way the country will survive.¡± That, at least, was true. And they all seemed to slowly get the message. Three hours later, the party that had made their way down to the Dungeon using guns was making their way back to the surface using bone spears as crutches. Bone swords attached to their hips using leather straps. All the weapons were worn, or as worn as items made from level 3 materials could get in such a short time. Though they paled in comparison to how the people were feeling. Each step was a herculean effort for them. Their eyes devoid of any of the life and energy they¡¯d had in the beginning. When they got to the surface, several cameras started flashing. A crowd of reporters surging forwards like a tide in order to get the scoop for their own publication. ¡°Good evening, everyone. We come to you live from Detroit, Michigan with a news update on the monsters coming from the underground. Behind me are several soldiers, paramedics and members of the Detroit PD that are just now re-surfacing from the hole after going down to rescue anyone who may have been stuck there. In the past few hours, more and more sections of the military and the national guard have been deployed towards the city in order to secure the population. Pundits have hinted at the possibility of an emergency evacuation of the city, but we do not have any information as of this moment. Behind me we see the survivors coming up to debrief with the officers on command. We shall see what the officers decided to do after they get a better idea of what¡¯s going on. All the while, the people of Detroit wait with bated breath as they see their beloved city being assaulted from the very ground. Will they have to leave their home in order to keep their lives? Will a state of emergency be called? Will the army nuke he city like the netizens are suggesting? What is happening with Carlyle Robertson and the magic food? Is magic real? What will happen with the hero Ryuji Hanamura after the shaved gorilla incident? For more information on these events and more¡­This is Jane Holland with the channel 6 news.¡± We saw the worlds through the minds of the people up above. Our combined minds using Elsie¡¯s Skills to read their thoughts and track the soldier and the police officers and the paramedics as they de-briefed the highest-ranked officer on the site. A colonel. We had been slightly worried that the ruse wouldn¡¯t work, but those worries turned out to be unfounded. The colonel received the report. Asked to see one of the weapons. And used a bone sword to hack away at one of the nearby barricades made of sandbags. The sword cleaved through the bags and all their contents like a hot knife through butter and the colonel¡¯s eyes went wide. Then he sighed in resignation. Said something about spooks never giving them the info they needed upfront and gave the order to distribute all the weapons the delvers had brought up with them. ¡°Our boys go first.¡± He said evenly. ¡°Then we worry about getting everyone else in that hole with the monsters.¡± Then his gaze fell on the Saboteur. Hardening. ¡°I did hear about you, you know. Not too much. Only a few rumors every now and then. Tell me, how long has the brass known about what¡¯s going on?¡± ¡°Nothing definitive has been confirmed as of yet. Technically.¡± We spoke through the Saboteur. Making sure to sound as vague as possible. ¡°But we¡¯ve had inklings about what was coming for a few years.¡± The colonel nodded. ¡°I see. I assume that means there are some hoarded piles of magic food out there to feed the incoming troops and the rest of the city.¡± We checked the drones and confirmed that several had made it to the surface. Far away from where the army and all the curious onlookers were currently gathering. One of those locations was near some kind of industrial center. One that had been recently abandoned. There were trucks there. Though it was impossible to say whether they were in any condition to run. ¡°I am at liberty to release some emergency supplies.¡± We said, thinking of a plan on the spur of the moment. ¡°Your men will have to be responsible to distributing it all though. They are all in a series of warehouses and the trucks were unfortunately not serviced as they should have been.¡± The Saboteur shrugged. ¡°Some office drone is in for a beating I guess.¡± The colonel huffed. ¡°Of course. Anything else would be too simple.¡± He sighed again. More deeply this time, though we could tell that a great burden left his sagging shoulders. ¡°Welp. At least the brass wasn¡¯t caught with their pants completely down. That¡¯s something I guess.¡± He sighed yet another time. ¡°Okay. I can work with this. Get me the locations and I¡¯ll send my men out there to secure the food. And then contact whomever is in charge of this shitshow on your end to make sure the trucks keep coming in. I don¡¯t need the civies starving on top of everything else that¡¯s going on.¡± The Saboteur made all sorts of greasy, pleasing noises. All while we ruminated on how easy it had been to pull the secrecy excuse. ¡®We¡¯d expected at least some more pushback. Maybe even a few threats. How odd.¡¯ Instead, the colonel seemed mostly resigned and even somewhat happy. We searched his mind as well and saw the truth of the matter. Despite the ridiculous things being said, the corpse of the Distraction could not be denied. Moreover, he had family who had some trouble securing food for themselves and he did all he could to help them. But that did not mean he didn¡¯t see where things were going and how much trouble it would be to feed all the new soldiers coming to the city. In truth, he was just happy someone had come with easy solutions. He did not need to worry about food anymore, so long we kept up our part and he did not need to worry about unknowns if there were a bunch of shadowy people above him making the tough decisions. ¡®Too easy.¡¯ We thought. ¡®Too simple. Too trusting. But there is nothing for it. This is all we could have hoped for. This is good.¡¯ We sent more drones to the ends of the new tunnels. To gather the food we [Spawned] along the lengths over and over again so that the soldiers would find the food they sought when they got there. At the same time, we sent forth more and more transformed Saboteurs and Queens to the surface. To grow additional gardens and spread forth rumours of magic. Of the power people could gain if they descended into the Dungeon. ¡®Oh. Yes.¡¯ We thought. ¡®The Dungeon grows deeper and we grow stronger. We birth more units and we create more ways for Casper to die. Soon.¡¯ We spoke to ourselves. Looking with four eyes at the new Skill we had devised. ¡°Soon.¡± Prepper鈥檚 Dungeon Chapter 86: The Green Halloween. It was close to midnight when the colonel was finally able to contact someone on the other end. Yet the tent was still abuzz with life and energy, both on the inside and the outside. Staffers were coming to and fro with alarming regularity. Their feet doing a sorta half-sprint, half-waddle as their eyes kept darting around their surroundings and their own clipboards. We looked at them through the eyes of the disguised Saboteur, but we were more or less sure all of them were trying to look busy while the situation developed. Outside, the tunnel leading down to the Dungeon had been widened as we willed the walls to open up further. We commanded the aperture to branch off too. Forming many adjacent tunnels that all needed to be filled with new delvers in order to keep monsters from coming to the surface and in order to make sure the soldiers on hand started getting themselves some magic of their own as per the information we¡¯d provided. The staffers and desk jockeys saw them going down and then saw then getting back out again. The shovels they¡¯d brought dented and twisted while the new swords they were given remained intact. Their movements all came together to form a hypnotic effect. Like a line of ants going endlessly in a circle. Where each ant blindly trusted the one in front of them knew what was going on. ¡®The line goes on throughout the city.¡¯ We mused within the Pool. ¡®Everyone is awake and coming over. Because they think that someone here knows what¡¯s going on. They¡¯re finally starting to think magic is not a hoax and they come to see the dead Distraction for confirmation. Their world has been turned upside down and shattered. Now, they all rush to pick up the pieces.¡¯ That was good. That meant that the initial stages of denial from the public wouldn¡¯t lead people to wasting precious time. Other Saboteurs would be doing their part of course. Other ones leaving with hordes of food from other tunnels besides the ones that were currently supplying the colonel. We needed these infiltrators out in the public, because we figured the one disguised as a human Herr Muller would be killed sooner or later. As soon as anyone with any real knowledge of the alias got in contact with the colonel and the mayor and the governor at this makeshift HQ. However, when the first calls came, it became evidently clear we¡¯d overestimated the people making decisions. ¡°So, just to clarify sir¡­ Mr. Muller is?¡± ¡°A CIA asset.¡± The secretary of state said over the video call. The man looked like someone who¡¯d been violently dragged out of bed and force-fed two gallons of coffee, before then being threatened with the chair if he didn¡¯t solve every problem that popped up. ¡°We don¡¯t know everything they know because someone in their ranks presumably lost track of who had access to the information.¡± ¡°They¡­ lost track?¡± Colonel Lander asked again. His face a mask of stupefied incredulity. ¡°Yes! You jarhead! They lost track of it! They know we had guys like that Hanalulu kid or whatever on ice after Alaska and they know magic or x-powers or whatever the fuck you want to call them are real! But they let a bunch of those guys escape and then they lost track of who had the intel!¡± The talking head stopped talking and immediately lit a cigarette. Draining half the thing in one prodigious inhalation before then going down in fit of coughing. ¡°Listen up. That guy Muller is an asset, so just go with whatever he says for now. Treat him like an expert. If things go SNAFU then lock him up and blame him for it. But otherwise try to keep the situation contained.¡± The call shut off immediately after and Colonel Lander turned to the Saboteur. ¡°Very well sir. My apologies. I suppose. General Barret should be making his way over to us in short order, but I¡¯ll be your liaison until then.¡± We forced the Saboteur to nod. ¡°Understood. That means you listen to what I tell you in regards to the tunnel.¡± The Colonel nodded. So did the mayor next to him, though he began dabbing at his forehead with a napkin. ¡°We have to open up the tunnel to everyone.¡± We spoke through the unit. ¡°And I really mean everyone. Tell the people outside what I told you about magic and start taking volunteers. Give them the same weapons I brought up or arm them with bats or shovels or whatever else they can swing. Then throw them at the Dungeon.¡± ¡°Um, pardon me.¡± The governor piped up after cleaning her glasses and downing another mug of coffee. ¡°But wouldn¡¯t it make more sense to keep everyone away and make sure the police forces, state troopers and the regular army get magic first? I mean, things are bad enough as it is, but if we have some kind of civil unrest involving people and those people end up being able to take a bullet without shrugging¡­¡± ¡°Better that than having to deal with people getting eaten left and right when the monsters start popping out of the surface.¡± We announced. ¡°Something tells me the voters will take a governor that handled the situation and gave them relief, magic food and access to powers over one that kept them in the dark until everyone started losing family members.¡± It was stretching the truth a bit, but our goal had always been to give Cores to as many people as possible. We wouldn¡¯t be stopped after coming this far. ¡°Besides, the Dungeon will keep growing and growing towards the surface. Soon, it¡¯ll have branching exits all over Detroit and even all over the state. There won¡¯t be enough soldiers in the world to guard all of them. What are you going to do then?¡± Everyone looked startled at that. The mayor most of all. ¡°NO! We can¡¯t let the city get blown up by monsters! I won¡¯t get my pension!¡±This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Colonel Lander stared at the man. Mouth agape. So did the governor. The military man was the first to recover though. Coughing into his hand and making his way outside the tent. Going towards the line of reporters with the air of a dead man walking. ¡®The news will not go over well.¡¯ We decided. ¡®And a lot of people will think the idea of having regular civilians go down into a deep monster hole when soldiers are around.¡¯ We nodded within the depths of the fourth floor. ¡®Good thing we saw this coming and prepared a little push.¡¯
¡°AAAA!!!¡± ¡°WAAA!!!¡± ¡°IT¡¯S THE MONTERS!!!¡± ¡°I DON¡¯T WANNA DIEEEE!!!¡± Gunfire erupted all over the streets and around the nearby buildings. The crowd of onlookers running for the hills and the ground beneath their feet gave way and spread itself apart to ¡°Good evening everyone. We come to you live from the streets of Detroit. Where a war has broken out in the middle of the streets.¡± Gunfire erupted all around the few block where people had gathered. Brutes and Rose Goblins and Tulip Lamias making their way out from beneath the earth by the hundreds. Flailing their limbs menacingly out in the open while the people up top made their hasty escapes. And just to spice things up a bit, we¡¯d also released a new addition. Courtesy of the many ideas we¡¯d gotten off of Eva. ¡°As you can all see clearly behind me, another kind of monster has broken free of the pit. Some kind of giant spider lizard, with eight eyes, eight spider legs and eight hairy bat wings on its back. The creature appears to be hostile to humans and¡­¡± ¡°Shut the fuck up and run you stupid bitch!¡± The camera guys shouted in front. Discarding the rets of their equipment and sprinting away. ¡°The spider dragon¡¯s gonna eat us!¡± ¡°Hah!? How dare you call me a stupid bitch Gary! You fat slob! Come back here and get a shot of this! Or I¡¯ll personally gut you and eat your liver in front of you!¡± Gary did not listen. If anything, he sped up as he ran. So, the reporter cursed him under her breath and picked up the camera herself. Filming while running. ¡°You heard it here folks. The creature has officially been named as the spider-dragon. A horrible monster from the deepest pits of the abyss. This news comes right as several online groups were criticizing the local leadership of Colonel Lander as he stated civilians should form up into militias and get magic for themselves. The stated reason was that everyone needed to have some measure of self defence on short notice and that no one was safe. Opposition soon came from pundits on VNN and OBC where they pointed out that the army had lots and lots of guns, and that the area should be sanitized with aerial bombardment if it really was that big a threat.¡± Above the crowd, an explosion rocked the night sky. The Spider-Dragon leaping upwards and impaling two helicopters with its needle-like legs. Spindles of webbing rushing forth from its open maw and capturing all the people inside before they fell to their deaths. Also, spiders. The Spider-Dragon was made with enough of our own Magic to [Spawn] thousands of tiny spiders and send them flying with the force of its breath. The idea was to really hammer home the fact that everyone needed magic, now that we¡¯d managed to get the authorities on board. Again, it was proving a very effective strategy. Everyone, even most of the soldiers had taken a single look at the thing breathing spiders out into the sky and decided that they accidentally left the stove on. Everyone was running and shooting and yelling. Everyone was feeling that same helplessness we¡¯d felt, back when we first descended. With that flimsy spear in hand. ¡®Good.¡¯ We thought. ¡®Having that much hatred inside you is good. Having that fear and desperation inside you is good. It will temper you. It will make you strong.¡¯ They would need to be strong, for what was coming. And thus we saw them. We saw the husband and father of three grabbing an old crowbar and sending it downwards unto the skull of a Rose Goblin. We saw the single mother empty her shotgun into the brute, before then hacking away at it with a butchering knife. We saw the young girl grabbing hold of her family car and using her short legs to stomp on the steering. Running down a group of three Tulip Lamias and pinning them against the wall of a bodega, before then getting back out of the car. Her father¡¯s tools in her hands. Her unconscious parents were both in the back and she had no intention of letting them come to harm. Her eyes were glazed over in a fugue state as she drove the wrench into the Lamias. Her limbs trembling as she heaved. ¡®Let¡¯s get one of the transformed Saboteurs to make sure she and her folks make it to a hospital okay. Actually, scratch that. Let¡¯s get the transformed Saboteurs to start healing people left and right. That should serve as another incentive for people to get stronger.¡¯ We began birthing more of them down on the fourth. Making sure they were all equipped with enough Magic to make a difference on the surface. Meanwhile, more and more would be heroes were making themselves known up top. ¡°Shoot it! Shoot it!¡± ¡°I am shooting at it dumbass! It¡¯s not doing anything!¡± Someone let loose a shell from within one of the tanks stationed around the entrance. The metal struck the Spider-Dragon head on. Cracking some pieces off its outer exoskeleton. The Dragon merely stared down as it perched sideways on a building. It¡¯s eight beady eyes glistening and glowing as they reflected a thousand lights coming from a thousand phones and flashlights and even some searchlights from the helicopters that had retreated back out of its range. The Dragon saw them all and vomited another volley of spiders on them. The little critters being hurled forwards by the gust of air coming from the Dragon¡¯s lungs and flying out to skitter and crawl along the surface of the tank. It didn¡¯t do anything to the occupants, but it sure as shit scared the living daylights out of all of them. Matter of fact, the guys inside the tank were screaming even louder than the guys running for their lives outside. The Dragon pierced the armored vehicle with one leg and pulled. Sending the massive, bulky tank flying upwards and backwards. ¡®Don¡¯t focus on that.¡¯ We commanded. ¡®Make sure you are seen. And then flee into the night. Far away from here. Everyone should know where you are at all times.¡¯ The Dragon agreed. As it was intended. It¡¯s nerves and will tied to us as the ones who birthed it. Then it spread its eight furry batlike wings out and flapped them with all the strength it had. Sending the massive unnatural body into the air, high above the rest of the helicopters. It breathed out another storm of spiders out into the city and then began to turn in mid-air. Until another incoming vehicle caught its attention. And¡­ ¡®Wait a second¡­ Isn¡¯t that¡­?¡¯ It was. A much, much bigger helicopter. With four blades and a hull painted to look like azure dragon scales. ¡°You vile villain!¡± Came a voice from the speakers. ¡°You dare hurt the people of tis fine city monster!? You dare to trample on their lives and their hopes!? Well I won¡¯t allow it!¡± The volume redoubled. Until the windows in all the apartments underneath the machine vibrated with the aftershocks. ¡°Look upon me and know that you gaze into the form of Ryuji Hanamura! Hero of humanity!¡± ¡°And Slitpipes McGee! Comign fer yee!¡± ¡°We won¡¯t let you crush humanity so easily, monster! We are not cowards who will run away like the Robertsons and their gorilla-san! We will protect these people or die trying!¡± ¡°Yes sireee! Y¡¯all better flee when you see Slitpipes McGee! Coming fer ye!¡± ¡°Shot at it!¡± Colonel Lander screamed into his comms on the opposite side of the battle. The disguised Saboteur still right beside him. ¡°Get men on all the mortars and shoot it down!¡± Three different mortars fired at the Dragon¡¯s location, though only one actually hit. Setting one of the hairy wings on fire and causing the Dragon to struggle. It forced more and more power into each wingbeat to stay aloft and the momentary pause sealed its doom. ¡°We may not have the ordinance to take you down¡­!¡± ¡°But we have the mass!¡± The voice of one of the girls carried out over the speakers. ¡°Yes sireee! I kept telling yee!¡± The helicopter picked up speed and rushed forwards in a mad suicidal charge. ¡°Y¡¯all better flee! When you see Slitpipes McGee! Coming fer yeeeeeeee!!!!¡± Prepper鈥檚 Dungeon Chapter 87: Astonishment. Prepper¡¯s Dungeon Chapter 87: Astonishment. Soldiers and police officers and civilian militias kept coming down for the next two days. Bringing with them their own equipment, as before. Unlike before, these new delvers did not use their rifles first. No. They brought up bone swords and shields and spears. Arranging themselves into phalanx formations to ward off the worst of the Brutes¡¯ assaults. They came down grudgingly and they left with a newfound respect. Both for the monsters they found and for themselves. Already the best of them had stats ranging from 1.2 to 1.3. Giving them enough of an edge over the regular humans around them for it to be noticeable. Then they went up to the surface and gorged themselves on the food I kept growing. The colonel had not only fed them well, but he had also taken charge of a large part of the city. Taking advantage of the declared state of emergency to arrange for food kitchens giving away the magic food for free to anyone who came. At first, he and the mayor and even the governor had worked together up on the surface to set up a system of food-aid, where people could come with their issued ID and obtain a set of rations per day. However, it would seem that our own efficiency in growing the food in secret and bringing them above ground had stunned even them, and they had stored a large portion and decided to give the rest away for free to anyone who came looking for extra food. Needless to say, people took them up on those offers. A lot of people. With even more signing up for the delving militias being formed on the behest of the disguised Saboteur and their spooky intelligence agency. ¡®Speaking of which, this is freaking ridiculous.¡¯ We thought with some frustration. Not only had the Saboteur not been outed as an obvious fraud, but all the other important people gathered around the emergency council had grown to see Herr Muller as a reliable source of information and advice. Granted, the colonel had reached out to his superiors time and time again as to who the frick Herr Muller was and who exactly was giving him orders. No one gave any clear answers. As expected. But no one seemed to care overmuch about the details right now. Everyone above him, even a few guys and gals from the actual CIA seemed to be of the opinion that someone must have been pulling the strings on their side and that it wasn¡¯t a problem so long as the situation was handled. It would seem that all the rumors of how competent the CIA really was as a major power in the shadows were a bit overblown, to say the least. They were less akin to a bunch of shadowy geniuses huddled around a table and deciding who to kill and more akin to a bunch of overworked and underfunded monkeys poking a map with their sticks in vain hopes that the issue on hand would resolve themselves. Okay, so maybe that was a bit harsh, but I couldn¡¯t help but get that impression when so many people kept taking Herr Muller, an alias that largely existed on papers, for granted. This had been our goal of course, but even we had not expected the ruse to work as well as it actually did. It was almost as if the actual intelligence agencies had convinced themselves that one of them was giving the orders, even if it wasn¡¯t them. The rather glaring issue that none of them could figure out which one it was didn¡¯t seem to bother them as much as it would have bothered us. Also, they decided to not probe deeper so long as Herr Muller was on their side. It had gotten to the point where the actual director had gotten on a video call and said, out loud, that we were doing an excellent job and following the plan really well. The colonel had nodded. The mayor and the governor had nodded. And of course, the Saboteur had nodded. All the while we were trying to figure out what plan the brain-dead moron was talking about. ¡®Maybe someone told him Muller was on the payroll and that was good enough for him? Or maybe great-grandpa Carlyle pulled some strings to ease things along?¡¯ Regardless, the result was the same. Everyone had learned the basics of magic and how Cores worked and the army was currently drawing more and more personnel from abroad to go down and get powers. With allied countries demanding that their own troops get a chance to go down before the civilian militias we¡¯d formed got their turn. All while no one came to tell us what was going on with Casper and the situation back in town. We had seen some news through the eyes of our Saboteurs, but most of it was centered around the food supply and what the existence of magic meant for the world at large. There were instances where a few scientists would come into some show with the look of men and women going to their executions, but they would all end with the researchers summarising the state of affairs as: ¡°We have no idea what the fuck is going on. We have no idea what the fuck magic is. We¡¯re all drinking ourselves silly as our worldview crumbles. Please send help. We don¡¯t know, even though we can see the effects it has and we can¡¯t account for those effects. Please send help. The guys over at the government are keeping the food flowing and they seem to know what¡¯s going on. We would have liked to hear from them. Please send help. Please answer our calls. The results of the people coming up seem to be on track so magic really is real holy shit. Please send help. Caryle Robertson probably knows stuff but he¡¯s not answering our calls. Please send help. Let¡¯s wait and see how things play out. Holy shit. Monsters are real. Monsters and magic are fucking real holy shit please send help holy shit they¡¯re real please send help holy shit¡­¡±Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. Grandpa James had not woken either. Though we had managed to stabilize his body with our new Skill. He would be furious upon waking, to be sure. But thanks to us, he would wake. ¡®Enough.¡¯ We chided ourselves. ¡®Don¡¯t think of that. Think back on expanding the tunnels. Expanding the underground farms. And the new aboveground farms too. Don¡¯t worry about what¡¯s going on beyond that. Someone will come eventually. Someone will show up to rescue us.¡¯ That, or Casper and any of his co-conspirators would show up. And then they would be ripped to shreds. We shook our heads and focused back on the delvers coming down. None had yet gained a Core. Though they were all trying their best. Indeed, the greatest problem right now was that the corridors that made up the first floor were not wide enough to allow for more challengers to bunch in together. We had tried our best to fix it, mostly by enlarging all the floors that we had created. Widening while also pushing the lower floors deeper into the earth. After Halloween, we had made sure to create yet another vertical layer of tunnels that snaked up and down and to either side. Making it into an ever wider and larger maze with even more entrances stretching out over a three-kilometer area in the city. At the same time, the second floor kept growing. The Sky-shrooms becoming towers of fungal matter while the rolling underground hills became more and more crowded with monsters and miniature burrows for all sorts of monsters. The third floor was widened too, though we began taking care to leave the individual halls as narrow and cramped as they were to keep people out. The fourth floor was left more or less as it was designed, with the only change being the spider lairs being grown over the side tunnels leading to the surface warehouses and the adjacent underground farms. As for the rest, we began growing out the fifth floor. Filling it with a soggy, filthy layer of water that went up to a human¡¯s knees. Complete with localized pools of microbial acid and a constant poison mist that rolled across the entire floor like a gently purple cloud of constant death. The water was also filled with leeches and swimming Burrower Roaches, and smaller colonies of piranha like fish that darted through the waters like a thousand tiny needles rushing in every direction. And of course, I grew massive mangrove trees throughout the floor and filled the branches with Sniperlings. All to support the Swarm Harpies that made their nests on the rocky ridges nestled across the walls as they descended. We had been in the middle of designing the sixth floor, when we stopped to consider what exactly we were doing. ¡®What are the chances that anyone will make it down here? Especially before we get some kind of rescue from the surface?¡¯ We looked back at the delvers coming down. Ranks upon ranks moved up room by room and thrust out their spears in concert. Ranks upon ranks kept their rifles by their sides or on their backs instead of firing them outright. Those who were descending for the first time were always skeptical. Always nervous for what was about to happen. Their hands shaking while their eyes kept going back to the holstered rifles and their sidearms. In contrast, those who came back for the second of third time were stepping confidently through the darkness. Almost eager in the way they trudged about towards the brutes. ¡®They know they will get stronger.¡¯ We thought. ¡®But they do not know what kind of monsters are found on the deeper floors. They have heard that there is someone upon high that knows what¡¯s going on and they have not seen another monster like the Distraction for a couple of days. They have come to think they will only get stronger and the monsters they will find will only get weaker in comparison. They aren¡¯t pushing themselves as hard because they think they¡¯re making good time.¡¯ To be fair, they were making good time. Especially given how many different people were coming down and spreading in all directions to take kills away from them. ¡®All while we keep making more and more food and expanding the underground farms. This could be considered a resounding success. We are doing everything we wanted to do. We are helping everyone we wanted to help. We are even growing so much food that the colonel is diverting the surplus to storage or to neighbouring cities. We are getting away with everything we wanted to do and managing to make the impact we wanted to make.¡¯ We knew this was true. Though we could not say why we felt so uneasy. ¡®More.¡¯ We growled. ¡®We have to do more.¡¯ We could not say whether the little whisper came from the side of Elsie, or from the side of Pool-Cecil. But we all knew it was true regardless. ¡®Wait, what is this feeling?¡¯ We refocused our attention on the surface. Long enough to see through the Muller Saboteur¡¯s eyes in the command tent. Colonel Lander was up and moving. The bags under his eyes looking as if they too had bags underneath them. For any other man, the exhaustion and the constant briefings and status updates would have proven lethal. For the colonel, it all seemed to gather more and more tightly into his chest. Like a growing ulcer or tumor that would one day kill the person they were attached to. ¡®Yet the man keeps moving regardless.¡¯ ¡°Thank you for coming Mr. Hanamura.¡± The colonel began speaking once more. His voice coming across like a half-strangled whisper. ¡°We¡¯re all very thankful for the assistance you provided when the¡­ uh¡­ spider thing was escaping. I trust you¡¯ve been given the medal already?¡± ¡°Hmnph!¡± The man snorted. Throwing his hands back to rustle his long trench coat. ¡°I have received the medal. Though it doesn¡¯t make up for the months that I spent trapped in Alaska.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± The colonel allowed. ¡°I have been made aware that your detention was slightly less than legal. However, you will also understand where we were coming from. People being able to shoot lightning from their fingers isn¡¯t something that happens often. That and we had no idea what monsters were at the time. We needed to make sure you weren¡¯t radioactive or infested with some kind of uber-parasite or whatever else.¡± ¡°Normal people get quarantined in hospitals. Not black sites.¡± The man countered. ¡°But I have received your apologies and I don¡¯t intend to press charges at the moment. What¡¯s important right now is talking about the food and the monsters.¡± ¡°Yes of course. So¡­¡± ¡°So where is the food coming from?¡± Ryuji demanded. ¡°It is being delivered into towns from our own storehouses.¡± The colonel said bluntly. ¡°I am afraid I am not at liberty to discuss anymore details than that.¡± ¡°No. I don¡¯t suppose you would be.¡± Ryuji spat. ¡°In that case, I will ask for something else.¡± Colonel Lander gestured for him to continue. ¡°How far into the Dungeon have we managed to get?¡± ¡°The third floor.¡± The colonel replied cooly. Relaying the information the Muller spy had provided. ¡°I see. And how far down does it go?¡± ¡°No idea.¡± He said. ¡°Mr. Muller doesn¡¯t know either, so we¡¯re in a bit of a pinch when it comes to information. Perhaps we will be able to find out more after some of our boys get these Cores everyone¡¯s talking about and we manage to form up a more complete expedition.¡± ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary.¡± Ryuji spoke. ¡°Give me as many men as you can spare as backup and have them follow me and mine. We¡¯ll go down as far as we can and defeat the Dungeon.¡± The colonel raised an eyebrow. ¡°I see. No offence sir, but how do you suppose you will gat all the way down there without more in the way of backup? Forgive me if I¡¯m wrong, but there will probably be other things down there just as dangerous as the Spider-Dragon. How will you deal with them without having more helicopters to crash into them?¡± ¡°Not easily.¡± The younger man allowed. ¡°But we have a secret weapon. Something that will allow us to get much stronger than your own men and much stronger than the men Carlyle Robertson-shi has been keeping for himself.¡± He didn¡¯t need to say it. The Saboteur could sense the new additions at this distance and we could confirm the presences using our connection. Our minds were stunned into silence. Eyes nearly popping out from our respective skulls. ¡°We will win where they failed, because we have a way for people to get multiple Cores at once.¡± Ryuji Hanamura then pulled up that same skull t-shirt and showed off his torso. Where two different gems were embedded without hurting him in the slightest. ¡°Let us go down, Lander-san and we will give you the Dungeon itself.¡± Prepper鈥檚 Dungeon Chapter 88: The Channel 6 Weekend Review. Our collective minds were abuzz with confusion and bewilderment. Recalling all the instances when we thought the world was hopelessly unfair. That time when our friend Claire couldn¡¯t join us in the Dungeon because she had no core. Because her parents had not worked hard enough when they were brought into the fold. That time when Eddie and us were separated in our training when he wasn¡¯t able to keep up. Because he had a Stage 2 Core, [Smithing] and his time was better spent making weapons rather than risking his neck out there with the monsters. We remembered when Helen almost died after being poisoned by a giant purple toad on the fourth, despite us being perfectly fine. She¡¯s lasted longer than most, but she too couldn¡¯t keep up with what we were doing. We remembered being made to group up with people like Julian and his sister. Who were more inclined to bitch and moan about how unfair it was to be compared to coach Homer when they chose to laze around doing nothing in particular most days. We remembered all too well how they¡¯d treated the likes of my friends because they were weak. Despite all my friends being nicer and working harder. We had vowed to change it. To make a difference despite great grandpa Carlyle saying there was no helping it. We promised ourselves we would find a way to make it right. And here was this moron. Dangling the secret in front of us like it was nothing. Swaggering around like he owned the place as he got soldiers assigned to watch his rear. Thinking that he was going to own the Dungeon too. As he and his flunkies prepared, the rows upon rows of people around took pictures and videos or posed for the news. ¡°Good morning everyone. This is Jane Holland with the Channel 6 weekend review. Before we begin, let us hold a moment of silence for our cameraman Gary, who was found dead by Detroit PD last night. The number of dead after the monster surge was surprisingly sparse. Almost reaching zero with most people dying as a result of the riots that ensued. Which makes this death even more tragic. Gary was supposedly found dead with both eyes and his liver missing. The police have revealed that whatever monster broke into his apartment also bit several chunks of flesh from his rear, belly, forearms and thighs. All while leaving the organs like the heart and lungs untouched. Very sad. We at channel 6 news will hold a candlelight vigil tonight in his honor.¡± We listened closely through Muller¡¯s ears for the things the crowd was saying, but in truth our attention was locked completely on Ryuji and his harem of pretty girls. Also, Slitpipes. Who we were sure was the most dangerous person on attendance. Speaking of which, Ryuji was taking the time to parse through a bunch of sidearms. Not rifles, but sidearms. Handguns and the like. He was strapping several belts to his trench coat and affixing the smaller guns to them. In a way that he thought was cool, but which actually screamed active shooter. However, against all odds¡­ The girls next to him seemed to love it. All of them were actually, literally fawning over him and shoving each other away from him. ¡°Now onto the news. A woman in California has been sued for damages by her neighbours as several of them claimed damages to their eyes and mental health due to her being so ugly. Lawyers said this would be a breakthrough case as, though it might seem frivolous, the woman in question was known to walk around in a bikini when going to the beach and at least one suicide has been attributed to her visage. In addition, several child therapists claim their clients were hopelessly scarred after, and I quote, ¡®Having their retinas burned by looking at something straight out of the deepest pits of Dis.¡¯ More at eight.¡± She gave the camera a dashing smile. ¡°In other news, a man in Florida is facing kidnapping charges after holding several doctors at gunpoint and ordering them to make his dog immortal. The dog in question was a 12-foot-long gator that ended up chewing off one of the doctor¡¯s arms. Moving on, researchers all over the world have been baffled and befuddled after the existence of magic was made public. Channel 6 news reached out to renowned NASA physicist Brett Lockheed for comment. Brett Lockheed replied by wagging his finger over his lips going all ¡®Tululululu!¡¯ and screaming about how nothing is real and we were all tiny insignificant particles floating in a deep uncaring universe that also wasn¡¯t real. More on that story at nine.¡± She chuckled. Making it seem as if it was a joke. It probably wasn¡¯t. ¡°In other news, more government agencies have come out with news that they too were working with the newly found energy called magic. Specifically, the British government have revealed hat they were working on a new and innovative method of construction that would cause far less damage to the environment. This method takes the form of giant 30-foot-tall scorpion-crabs that would destroy all in their path in order to clear the way for new buildings and carry large loads to construction sites. Doctor Chester Skulls is the genius behind these new workers. Having stumbled upon inspiration for the idea after a terrible military experiment dissolved his right eye and right hand. The latter being replaced by a robotic claw, which was the most that Allstate insurance was willing to provide. And I must say, good for him. Anyone else would have been embittered and sworn death and revenge on humanity, but not him. He put his feelings aside and gave the world marvelous 30-foot-tall scorpion-crabs. Doctor Chester Skulls was later interviewed by Channel 6 news and gave us the quote: I was inspired by the weakness and selfishness of humanity. Now all will now the name of Doctor Chester Skulls. More on this story at ten.¡±This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. She cleared her throat to continue. ¡°Moving on. Children. Can they be trusted with secrets? Say if one saw a hypothetical person eating a human liver behind a dumpster and growling the name of a random man in ecstasy? I asked a few people here on the street and got some surprising answers¡­¡± ¡°The time has come!¡± Ryuji bellowed suddenly. Gently edging the reporter from the camera and making himself the center of attention. ¡°Good people of this city! I am Ryuji Hanamura and I come to you with your salvation!¡± He lifted his shirt once more. Revealing the two Cores amidst a flurry of flashing cameras and phones. ¡°This is what a Core looks like and we will now tell you how to get two or more!¡± We sputtered and shook our heads as one. So did Muller due to our connection. This freaking clown had refused to share anything in the command tent. No matter how hard our Saboteur and by extension the Colonel who followed our lead, asked. And now here he was. Spouting off to the entire internet about something that was quite literally earth-shattering in its implications. For no reason. ¡®Is he just compensating for something!?¡¯ We wondered at once. ¡®Could be. Maybe he has a really small banana and he¡¯s now decided to make it everyone else¡¯s problem by going on and on about how much of a badass he is. Would explain the cringy trench coat. And insistence on belting handguns to it. And the harem. Yeah, now that we think of it, those girls are probably all paid actors.¡¯ We decided to reach into their minds. Then we heaved because they all really, really wanted to sleep with him. Like¡­ genuinely. We took another look inside his mind and saw¡­ A single metaphorical fly buzzing around an endless empty void. So either he had a way to block mind-reading or he wasn¡¯t actually that complicated. Good to know. We tried reading Slitpipes and found¡­ a lot of things. So we left and spent a few minutes disconnected from the Dungeon and all our units. Heaving on the floor. When we came back, the lady from the news was actively interviewing Ryuji. ¡°So what you¡¯re saying is that you have a defector from Carlyle Robertson¡¯s conspiracy that helped you get a second Core?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± Ryuji answered. ¡°A young woman whom we rescued. With a Core that no one on their side knew what to do with. Patience Fowler, sister to the gorilla, Cecil Fowler.¡± The man made a face. ¡°She had been hysterical when she reached us. Her Uncle told me everything. It turns out that she and her family had been kidnapped by Carlyle Robertson and forced to work for him because Carlyle wanted someone to grow his food for him.¡± We stopped dead in our tracks. Eyes going wide. ¡°They brainwashed the gorilla, Cecil Fowler, but not the others. They¡¯re all safe now. All the Fowlers. They¡¯re staying with the other brave whistleblowers in a location maintained by my family. Why, I even promised to save Cecil if I could.¡± He donned a serious expression. ¡°We don¡¯t know where he is yet, but I promised his uncle and his aunt and even his little cousin that I would do my utmost in order to save him. I mean to keep that promise.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t he beat the¡­ didn¡¯t he assault you the last time you two met?¡± ¡°Yes. I was¡­ careless.¡± The man looked ashamed. ¡°I had not expected him to be as strong as he was. That will not happen again. I promise to you all and to his family, if you¡¯re watching, that I have a cunning plan to incapacitate him without hurting him too much.¡± ¡®We¡¯ll kill you.¡¯ We roared within our mind. Shaking the very walls of the Dungeon with our wrath. ¡®Going on TV and purposely saying that you have our family. It¡¯s no different than declaring you¡¯re taking them hostage. Forcing them to work for you¡­¡¯ The Dungeon Core screamed. Blood now oozing from the walls in every floor as hundreds of limbs struggled to break free. To escape and rip and tear. ¡®So this was Casper¡¯s plan. Taking our family hostage and saying as much on TV to force our surrender. Telling us to knock it off and give up the Core, or else.¡¯ ¡°I promise you all, we will triumph! No matter how bleak the day seems! Justice will prevail!¡± ¡®None of you will ever make it out alive.¡¯ ¡°I will even agree to take several reporters with us, to catalog how the Dungeon works and how one fights against monsters.¡± ¡®We will kill you all.¡¯ ¡°And with the knowledge we gain, we will break free from the shackles Carlyle Robertson wanted to put us in! We will break free of ignorance and tackle this new world together!¡± ¡®I will kill you all.¡¯ It felt as though Pool Cecil said that, but we could no longer tell him apart from the rest of us. Indeed, it was almost as if he was the sole voice of reason as we reeled from the implications. The threats. ¡®Slowly.¡¯ I finished. ¡®I will kill you all. Slowly. And I will revel in your screams.¡¯ ¡°No one can stop humanity¡¯s indomitable will!¡± He shouted. And the people around him cheered. ¡°No one!¡± They all cheered together. While below them, the walls and floors shifted. New creatures being born amidst salt and smoke and an insatiable hunger. For blood. ¡°Hello everyone. This is Jane Holland once more. Live from Detroit. We are currently installing a series of signal boosters so as to keep rolling live as long as possible. Our technicians assure us we will be able to maintain a feed of decent quality for the length of the first floor so long as we keep dropping the boosters every few hundred feet of depth. Once more, our thanks to Hanamura Heavy Industries for their generous donation in service to getting you all the undiluted truth.¡± The people behind her were moving about in a frenzy. Scattering like drunken ants. ¡°And I am now being told that we¡¯re ready to descend! Fantastic! Please stay tuned to get every detail of the Dungeon and see just what it takes for our brave militias and volunteers to get superhuman strength and speed.¡± The reporter began following the large group of soldiers. All of whom were themselves following the main group led by Ryuji Hanamura and his harem and, of course, Slitpipes. However, the latter stopped dead in their tracks before fully entering the hole. ¡°This feels wrong.¡± He said at once. Sounding surprisingly coherent for once. ¡°What do you mean, Slitpipes-san?¡± The man sniffed the air. ¡°This feels dangerous.¡± He reiterated. ¡°I¡¯m scared.¡± ¡°So am I.¡± Ryuji answered at once. ¡°I¡¯ve been scared this whole time. But I think it¡¯s only at times like these, when we are frightened of what¡¯s ahead, that one can be truly brave.¡± ¡°No.¡± Slitpipes insisted. ¡°You don¡¯t understand. My Core. My first Core. Is howling. This place is much scarier now. Much more than before. It feels like death is right in front of me. Trying to drag me deeper inside instead of trying to push me out. I don¡¯t like it.¡± ¡°All right then.¡± Ryuji followed up. ¡°All the more reason to go down and destroy whatever is giving you such feelings. Because if we don¡¯t know one else will.¡± Ryuji made to descend. His harem in tow. Slitpipes didn¡¯t follow him. Instead, he turned and ran in the opposite direction. Sweat streaming down his forehead. One of the soldiers looked back the way he came and raised his voice. ¡°A¡­ are just gonna let him go?¡± ¡°We are.¡± Ryuji confirmed. ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s gotten into my friend, but we can¡¯t stop the operation because of one person. We have a duty to humanity. If we don¡¯t conquer the Dungeon, then more monsters will just keep coming.¡± He turned around. ¡°Follow me, friends. Into the darkness.¡± Prepper鈥檚 Dungeon Chapter 89: Unsuspecting Prey. They had all been stepping forwards with confidence. Flashlights piercing the darkness permeating through the rooms. ¡°Hey, isn¡¯t this place darker than before?¡± John asked suddenly from the back. ¡°I think it is.¡± Becca agreed. Fergus and Gunther didn¡¯t say anything, but nodded all the same. Only Ryuji and his flock of clucking hens seemed indifferent to the changes. ¡°Colonel Lander-san assured all of us that the corridors and walls kept changing every time someone descended. This much should be normal.¡± He spoke somberly. Keeping his eyes locked onto the next passage. ¡°I mean, yeah. Kinda. But the lighting never changed before.¡± Fergus quipped. Three more soldiers agreed in turn, before John spoke up once more. ¡°Maybe we should slow down and pay more attention to our surroundings.¡± He said quietly. ¡°Or maybe we should head back up and come back with more men, or more guys with powers if you can convince them Mr. Super.¡± He swallowed a lump in his throat. ¡°I don¡¯t like what¡¯s going on. I don¡¯t like that your guy back there ran off. I¡­ I¡¯ve got a really bad feeling about this.¡± Gunther snickered. ¡°You sound like a horror movie protagonist man.¡± ¡°I know that Gunther. It doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m wrong.¡± The older man snapped. ¡°In fact, a lot of those guys in horror movies would have made it out with their intestines in one piece if they¡¯d been smart enough to turn tail and run.¡± Ryuji snorted. ¡°I am not forcing anyone to come down here with me soldier-san. If the darkness frightens you so much, then maybe you should leave. I certainly wouldn¡¯t want you to be uncomfortable. Io hear it is bad for your heart.¡± One of his hens snickered. While another shot the older man a derisive look. At the same time, I felt nothing but giddiness. Now we, but I. I was back in charge. Of the fury and the rage. Now fully connected with the girl and the boy. More powerful than ever before. More complete than ever before. I had been changed somewhat, but those were minor concerns. And it was true that the old me had been too proud. Too stupid to see the bigger picture. Too caught up in the moment. Now I saw that achieving supremacy was a marathon, and not a sprint. The girl¡¯s mind and knowledge had helped with that. ¡®Not to mention the sweet, tantalizing knowledge this fool brought with him.¡¯ I thought back to the news. The prospect of two cores. The hatred and scorn that the boy felt after having his family kidnapped. The anger the girl felt after having her family threatened and betrayed. I had taken the reigns, but that did not mean I wasn¡¯t angry too. Far from it. I was seething with an indescribable bloodlust. One that made my blood and the blood of all my brood boil. I had created them. I had created Patience. Me. The power to sustain two Cores should have been mine and mine alone. Perhaps if the brute hadn¡¯t shattered my body and broken my nerves¡­ perhaps I might have realized what she could do sooner. I shook my two heads. The boy and girl following my movements. ¡®There is no use in dwelling in past failures. I was too proud and too stupid. I believed I could control the brute¡¯s actions. I am to blame. I will learn my lesson.¡¯ My attention went back to the delvers. All the units of my brood and all the walls of my Dungeon sharing in my rage. My indignation. ¡®It will not be long now.¡¯ I thought with sudden glee. ¡®Come down to me. Come down to the stage I have set for you, foolish mortals. Come down to suffer my wrath.¡¯ John started to shake violently. ¡°Okay! Stop!¡± He bellowed. Then, when everyone turned to stare at him, he began to stammer. Spittle flying from his mouth as he kept opening and closing it in quick, chaotic movements. ¡°What seems to be the matter soldier-san?¡±Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Wha¡­? Seriously!?¡± He shook his head suddenly and turned to stare at each and everyone of the expedition¡¯s members. ¡°None of you felt that!?¡± ¡°Felt what?¡± Gunther asked. John stammered further. ¡°I¡­ I¡­ We¡¯re being watched.¡± He finally finished. ¡°There¡¯s something in here that wants us dead. Something evil.¡± Gunther barked out a laugh. ¡°Dude, that was so good. You almost had me for a second there.¡± John got angrier and the others laughed at him some more. I wasn¡¯t laughing. In fact, I took note of his sharp senses and dialed back my bloodlust. Shifting the corridors in front of the group some more to make sure the trap was ready, while also sealing shut all the passages that they had already traversed. I was probably overkill, but there was no telling what kinds of Cores the hens had, or what the chunni¡¯s second Core did. The last thing I wanted was for any of these fools to escape, now that I had decided I wanted them. Better to appear welcoming and unassuming. Better for the Dungeon to appear as if nothing was different. For now. John seemed to calm down after a few minutes, and he allowed himself to be convinced that it was all in his head. He grumbled, but kept going down the corridors in spite of that. Then they met a few dozen Sunflower Brutes. Just as they had before. Unlike before, they now had the chunni and his hens with them and the man dealt with the monsters with ruthless efficiency. Drawing a sword and infusing it with crackling arcs of lightning. The blade cleaving through the monsters like a hot knife through butter. I allowed the carnage and in fact sent more monsters to the slaughter. Let him have his fun. Let him think this is all I have to send his way. Let him grow overconfident and proud as a peacock. After all, overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer. I sent a wave to Tulip Lamias alongside the Sunflower Brutes next. Ordering them to approach from the sides and attempt to outflank the chunni. With a few even aiming for his hens. Those were blasted apart by gouts of fire or scythes made of pressurized winds. The hens using their Magic to back up their peacock. Each room thereafter contained more monsters with more variation within the groups. Rose Goblins and Amethyst Shield bearers and Torchers coming together to form battle lines and draw out more and more of the attacker¡¯s Magics. Slowly draining their reserves while I hardly touched mine own. Those last two variants seemed to worry the chunni though. The former deflected his sword strikes. Even at level 1, while the latter hid behind walls of Sunflower Brutes before sending plumes of smoke and bio-chemical fire towards the attackers. The soldiers were forced to open fire for the first time then. Flanking the monsters themselves while the hens blasted the opposing group with their Skills. Sending them above and to the sides of Ryuji as he weaved in and out of combat with his sword. The battle raged on for a few more minutes, but it eventually ended in their victory. They gasped and sighed and heaved. Struggling to breathe. ¡°How far down are we?¡± John asked, not for the first time. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen the flamethrower things of the shield guys before.¡± He took another look around. ¡°This is also the biggest room I¡¯ve seen so far. I¡­ I lost track of the rooms we passed too.¡± He looked at his watch. ¡°We¡¯ve been going down in a spiral pattern for almost two hours. I think we¡¯ve come deeper than ever before.¡± It was an astute observation. A very true one as well. They were so far down that they had almost reached the second floor, but I wasn¡¯t about to let them pass without a few more surprises. ¡°I think we should head back up and report what we¡¯ve seen.¡± He said at once. ¡°If these guys have ranged options, then we either need more men down here or bigger guns at the very least. We need to start clearing rooms one by one using the tactics we used in cities or during SWAT raids. Every room beyond this one could have a few flamethrower guys in entrenched positions and we don¡¯t have enough ammo for a protracted battle. We need to retreat for now and come back later.¡± ¡°Soldier-san.¡± Ryuji spoke with a sigh. ¡°I¡¯ve already said this before. If you feel so anxious, then you should head back up the way we came. It should be clear with how many monsters we¡¯ve defeated. Even if you have to take a detour because the walls shifted a few times, you¡¯re not likely to find more than one of two stragglers.¡± John had gone quiet for a second, but he now broke the silence by taking a deep gulp of air and exhaling it in a weary sigh. ¡°You know what kid? You¡¯re one hundred percent right. I don¡¯t know how I let you talk me into going even deeper for this long in the first place.¡± He turned to leave the way they came, but stopped. Then he sighed again. ¡°And the door disappeared altogether.¡± He chuckled dryly. ¡°Great. Just what I needed right now.¡± ¡°Calm down dude.¡± Gunther said from the side. ¡°Remember the time with Muller? He just said you need to keep going until there¡¯s another fork in the road and then follow the fork back up. It¡¯s super easy.¡± Of course it had been easy. I had made it so that anyone who really wanted to leave could find their way up. Until now. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s keep going. I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll find a fork soon.¡± John stopped dead at that. ¡°A fork.¡± He repeated. Now alarmed. ¡°Holy crap a fork!¡± He turned to the others. ¡°We¡¯ve been going straight for hours and we haven¡¯t seen a single fork in the road!¡± ¡°Yeah? Dude, you said this already.¡± ¡°No you idiot! I know I said it before but really think about it! We¡¯re supposedly going after something that has a level of intelligence right? If that¡¯s the case, what do you think this means?¡± Gunther shrugged. ¡°That it isn¡¯t very smart?¡± ¡°No!¡± John bellowed. ¡°That it wants to lure us deeper! It means¡­¡± ¡°Uh, guys?¡± Becca called from the other end of the room. ¡°I think you should all come over and take a look at this?¡± John bolted up and ran over. ¡°What? What is it?¡± ¡°It¡¯s¡­ a door.¡± She said slowly. ¡°Like, a regular door with a doorhandle. I mean, it¡¯s closed, but it¡¯s the same kind you¡¯d seen in a random house.¡± She shone her flashlight on the handle. ¡°P.C.¡± She spoke softly. ¡°What do you think that means?¡± Fergus asked. ¡®Pool Cecil. The closest thing to a name that I have.¡¯ I thought. ¡®I want them to know it was me.¡¯ ¡°Personal Computer, obviously.¡± Gunther said dismissively. ¡°I guess someone else came here before us and they too were part of the PC master race. Sounds about right if you ask me. Only losers play on console these days.¡± ¡°Indeed.¡± Ryuji spoke with confidence. ¡°Let¡¯s just open it and make our way forwards. We¡¯ve wasted enough time talking and standing around.¡± He pushed past Gunther and grasped the handle with confidence. And a bright, childlike smile blossomed on my face. As it happened, the handle was not made of metal. Instead, it was a living organism with a thin membrane of metallic-looking skin where a door handle would have been. A very sticky layer of skin to be precise. That part of my little guy now spurted out small, glue-covered pseudopods to keep the hand in place. All while the arteries and veins beneath the skin filled with a certain bio-chemical. A cocktail of powerful acid¡­ and the same burning fluids that Napalmlings were filled with. And for the first time that day, Ryuji screamed. Prepper鈥檚 Dungeon Chapter 90: A House for Gnomes. ¡°And now we can stream the ensuing incident to all you fine folks out in the world. Thanks to Hanamura Heavy Industries¡¯ generous donations in the form of equipment. We have been leaving signal boosters every 20 or 30 metres or so and therefore, the images and sounds should be coming out crystal clear. Once more, this is Jane Holland with the channel 6 news.¡± ¡°AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!¡± Ryuji cried out as the boiling acid clung on to his rapidly dissolving skin. Despite the best efforts of the medics nearby. Apparently, one of the hens had been the one to heal his shattered jaw earlier. But she wasn¡¯t skilled or powerful enough to heal all that damage at once. ¡°And that was, of course, the brave voice of our beneficiary and leader of this intrepid expedition, Ryuji Hanamura. Who seems to have triggered some form of trap by touching what appeared to be a regular doorhandle. Mr. Hanamura apparently did not consider how out of place such an object was down here in a Dungeon that continuously births man-eating monsters. Incidentally, we at channel 6 news managed to secure an interview with one of Mr. Hanamura¡¯s childhood tutors, who swears up and down Mr. Hanamura does not have and has never had a significant developmental delay. Keyword being significant. In other news, Fetal Alcohol Syndrome continues to prove a tragic and debilitating affliction. Moreover, it has come to our attention that the late Mrs. Hanamura had a habit of drinking Polish Vodka at all hours of the day before she had the current heir and it could explain¡­¡± ¡°DON¡¯T BADMOUTH MY MOTHER!!! AAAAAAAHH!!¡± ¡°And if we take a closer look here, it certainly seems as though some intelligent force is to blame for this rather obvious trap that anyone with more than half a peanut for a brain would have seen coming. Experts on the line have postulated that the Dungeon is, in fact, some manner of hyper-intelligent superbeing in a larval state and that we are basically trying to crack an egg before it hatches. This would make all the monsters we have stumbled across merely parasites or perhaps the equivalent of white blood cells.¡± Ryuji continued to scream all the while. The letters burying deep into him as the walls behind the group grew thicker and thicker in the darkness. ¡°Other lines of thinking coming out of Harvard indicate that the Dungeon might be some manner of genetic scrambler and that it is more mechanical than biological. This would make the Dungeon some manner of advanced colonization tool deployed by an advanced alien civilization. And may I just say, thank goodness. Even after everything that¡¯s happened and how big a circus the country has become, we can at least take solace that we remain the first country invading aliens decided to land in. Frankly, I am humbled and overjoyed and if this really is an alien invasion, I would like to take a moment to reassure out new alien overlords that I welcome their arrival and I for one, would love to be the pet of some spacefaring oligarch in the future. This is Jane Holland with the channel 6 news.¡± ¡°Stop filming him woman!¡± Becca shouted. ¡°Can¡¯t you see he needs help?¡± ¡°I see that he went ahead and touched something that looked man-made in the depths of a monster-infested hole in the ground.¡± Jane countered. ¡°Perhaps Mr. Hanamura should have gotten checked into a hospital after the gorilla incident. It certainly looks like he suffered some major head trauma to think that was a good idea.¡± Ryuji continued to scream. With no signs of stopping as the acid met bone for the first time. And kept going. Then the second phase began, as the floor grew thinner and thinner and thinner. While the small holes I¡¯d left in the ceiling started letting out the buildup of gas with a steady foreboding hiss. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Fergus asked. ¡°Do you hear that?¡± ¡°Yes, I hear it.¡± John answered at once. ¡°Oh my goodness. We¡¯re being gassed. We¡¯re being freaking gassed in here! Masks!¡± ¡°We didn¡¯t bring any masks! None of the other¡­¡± ¡°You¡¯re telling me that we came down to a sealed off tunnel with who knows how many passages and none of us thought to bring masks!? We had masks when we first came down on our own!¡± ¡°Yeah, but oxygen was never a problem until now!¡± Gunther roared back defensively. ¡°And anyhow, it wasn¡¯t our call! The mayor gave that guy permission to bring the cameras so we had to lug around the signal boosters! We couldn¡¯t have brought down everything at once! It would have slowed us down too much!¡± That, of course, was a complete load of nonsense and everybody there knew it. If that had been the problem, then they could have simply brought along more people or failing that, pack animals like mules or donkeys or even draft horses. The real reason was that the mayor was an imbecile who¡¯d somehow managed to lose track of army supplies when civilian contractors were supposed to be moving most of the usual equipment to hastily built storehouses. Either that or he¡¯d sold them. Colonel Lander and Herr Muller, meaning us, knew about it already, which meant the mayor would be in for a little court appearance as soon as things calmed down. As for this little group not noticing they were gone until now¡­ well. Another, female presenting, Saboteur had unfortunately drunk the quartermaster in charge under the table last night.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Oopsie daisy and all that. The people in the room all started screaming then. Hurriedly moving to kick the door open. Fergus gave it a whack with his booted heel and the wooden boards splintered. Exposing the creature hidden within. Unfortunately, Fergus wasn¡¯t able to appreciate the thing, as another of my creatures locked eyes on him. A miniature blend of a Torcher and a Napalmling. It opened its maw now and let out a belch of fire. Even as the living tar on the floor beyond the door grabbed hold of his foot. ¡°AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!¡± Fergus added to the choir. Held in place as his helmet melted into his skull. The others saw this and rushed to help. Stomping all over the floor and invertedly spreading more and more cracks along its surface. Even as they inhaled more and more of the neurotoxins with every panicked heave. I continued making the floor thinner as they ran around like headless chickens. Waiting and waiting and waiting until the perfect time came. John and Becca managed to drag Fergus out of the trap. Having pulled him free of his boot. Then they emptied their canteens over him. Trying to douse out the flames with fresh water. It didn¡¯t work. But that was when I decided that the star of the show should finally show their face. ¡°Hello big people.¡± A gnomish head peeked out from the doorway. His jolly eyes finding all the occupants. One by one. They settled on John first. ¡°You¡¯re the reason she left you know. You promised her you¡¯d always be there for her. For the kids. But then you started to drink. Taking painkillers for your leg. She¡¯s happier now than she¡¯s ever been before. So are the kids. They call the mechanic daddy now. They don¡¯t even remember your face.¡± Then they settled on Becca. ¡°He¡¯ll never love you, you know. Nothing you do will ever be enough for daddy. He wanted a cheerleader who married well and gave him grandkids. He thinks you¡¯re going to the bad place and he blames you for his heart problems and his stress. As he should. You¡¯re killing him.¡± Then they settled on Gunther. ¡°You¡¯re the reason your parents split up. They always hated being around you. And you knew that. They both started drinking because of what you did. Smoking. Stealing bikes with your so-called friends. Gulping down pills to look cool and getting those tattoos. Getting arrested. Getting in trouble. Your parents both knew you¡¯d never amount to anything, but they resented you proving them so right, so often. If you hadn¡¯t been a minor, if you hadn¡¯t snitched and cut a deal, then you wouldn¡¯t even have become a cop. Your grandfather killed himself when he heard about what you¡¯d done. And both your parents blamed you. It was all your fault and they both knew it. They both know it to this day. Now daddy has another family and mommy is doing charity tours. They¡¯re both much happier now that you¡¯re gone from their lives. But that was always going to be the case, wasn¡¯t it?¡± Then they settled on Jane. ¡°You had it coming. You knew what your uncle was. That thing with dressing in the wolf suit was all on you. Then you killed him. You father hates you. Your mother hates you. No one wants you around.¡± Then they settled on Ryuji. ¡°You¡¯re the reason your mother left. She always thought you were a disappointment. She always blamed you for being born. You being there was always the worst thing that ever happened to her. And you knew that, of course.¡± The gnome smiled. His red cheeks looking as innocent and cuddly as a child¡¯s doll. ¡°You tried your best. But you are a piece of trash. Never being as good as your classmates. Never being as good as your younger sibling. It should have been you in that car crash. Not them. You were never half as good as them. Your father always told you that. So did your mother. And you never proved them wrong. That¡¯s why she left. She could never stand to be near you. Not that I blame her. No one could ever stand being near you. Everyone will leave you behind in the end. Fitting, for trash.¡± Ryuji did not scream. Not anymore. Instead, he stared, awestruck. Before devolving into hysterical sobbing. Jane was actually the one to act. Roaring like a mad beast and pushing a soldier aside. Unsheathing his combat knife and flinging it at the gnome¡¯s head. But the head popped away. As if vanishing into the darkness. With only his shrill laugh echoing in the halls. ¡°Oh come to play! Yay yay yay! Me and all my friends have so many delightful little gifts for you tall folks! HAHAHAHAHAHA!¡± ¡°I¡¯ll gut you from head to toe!¡± Jane Holland from channel 6 news screamed. Rushing past the doorway in a bloodthirsty charge. Ryuji was getting up now too. Fury plastered on his features. But then, someone made a single false step. And the ground beneath their feet, gave way. ¡°I¡¯m gonna kill him! I¡¯m gonna kill him! I¡¯m gonna skin his alive and eat his red cheeks! Then I¡¯m gonna scalp him and shove that pointy hat up his¡­.!¡± ¡°Gunther! Gunther listen to me!¡± John cried out. But Gunther would not listen. Instead he raged. Like a caged tigress witnessing her cubs being butchered in front of her. Mouth snapping against the air in a futile display of fury. ¡°I¡¯ll kill him!¡± Gunther swore through clenched teeth. I¡¯ll kill him! I swear it! I swear I¡¯ll kill him! I¡¯ll bleed him dry and watch as the life drains from his eyes!¡± ¡°Yeah right.¡± John snapped. ¡°You had your chance back there and the reported beat you to it.¡± His hands were shaking too, but he¡¯d at least managed to keep himself in check. In contrast, Gunther looked like a zombie. Calling upon strength he didn¡¯t know he had to break free of John¡¯s hold and rush blindly down one of the many darkened corridors next to them. It was lovely to see, but it would not make up for kidnapping the child¡¯s family, nor poisoning the girl¡¯s own. I allowed Magic to flow into the series of rooms, and delighted in their reaction once the crystals in the closing ceiling began to illuminate their surroundings properly. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ a house?¡± John mumbled. ¡°He¡¯s playing with us!¡± Gunther spat. ¡°This is all some sort of sick fucking game he¡¯s playing with us!¡± Well, that was true enough. But I doubted any of them could come close to comprehending how many layers were in this game of mine. Case in point, neither John, nor Gunther, nor any of the other delvers that landed in the other chambers after travelling through the smooth stone slides paid much heed to the empty holes on the otherwise lit up ceilings. Merely thinking of them as leftover, closing apertures. That ended when another gnomish head poked out of a doorway attached to their chamber. ¡°Hey fellas!¡± The new gnome called out. ¡°Isn¡¯t it a nice night for a neck injury?¡± ¡°What?¡± John asked. Even as Gunther struggled to break free once more and lunge at the gnome. All thoughts of his pistol and missing rifle banished from his mind. In fact, they were so occupied, that neither of them heard the whistling sound. Of two falling bricks. Prepper鈥檚 Dungeon Chapter 91: Gnomish Playground. CRACK! CRACK! ¡°Ooomph!¡± John cried out. ¡°Youch!¡± Gunther agreed. Despite their cries, neither made much sound. On account of the cement bricks cracking open on their heads. Now, I was of the opinion that my actions were a mercy. After all, I was not all that angry at these two men, nor at any of the soldiers or police officers accompanying the fool and his hens. They did not know. They couldn¡¯t have known. Ignorance wouldn¡¯t save them, but I was not about to expend too much effort in their deaths. Furthermore, my connection to the girl had¡­ smoothened out some of my own thirst for blood. At the very least, I thought that there should not be pain if the person had not directly harmed me or if I stood to gain nothing. Better for them to die here, in relative peace, than for them to have to experience everything I was going to throw at those that actually deserved it. I fully believed the bricks, carried by gravity, would be more than enough to kill even a fully developed level 1, let alone two guys without Cores of their own. Yet, sadly. I did not account for their thicker than average skull density. And so, the two survived. ¡°Wowzers guys! You sure can take a beating!¡± The gnomish head said. ¡°Not like I should be surprised. Not as if either of you are good for anything else. Yes sir! Your dads were both right for beating you! Only way cretins like you would ever learn anything!¡± Gunther tried to move, now free of John¡¯s grasp, but all he managed were a few confused gestures as he fought through the concussion. ¡°Heehoo! Heehoo! Heehoo!¡± Another gnomish voice called out. ¡°Watch out below!¡± John managed to duck out of the way, so that the brick didn¡¯t hit him. His own brain somehow managing to fight through the daze. Gunther was not so fortunate. CRACK! The brick hit him square on the forehead. Again. Now ripping even more skin around his face and leaving a rectangular mark where the mineral¡¯s speed and friction tore at him as the brick cracked. ¡°Aaaagahhhaaaaglreaaaagleargle.¡± Gunther spoke. Drool dripping from the side of his mouth as the gnomish head laughed out in the distance. ¡°Gunther!¡± John cried out. Moving through the blur to hold his friend close. ¡°Gunther! Gunther! Stay with me! You can¡¯t let them get to you Gunther!¡± I assumed he meant the gnomes, and not the two cement bricks I¡¯d just dropped. Because if he did mean the bricks well¡­. A little late for that. ¡°You have to stay with me!¡± John kept calling out. ¡°Auuwaaa.¡± Gunther spoke. Raising his right hand and wobbling it past John¡¯s head. ¡°What is it Gunther? What is it!?¡± ¡°Auuwaaa.¡± Gunther repeated. ¡°Auuwaaa! Aaaauuuuwaaaaaa!¡± John turned his head just in time to hear the whistle of brick through air. He moved out of the way once more and the third brick cracked against Gunther¡¯s skull with an ¡°OOOOMMPPHH!¡± and a ¡°CRACK!¡± Gunther¡¯s eyes rolled within his skull. Not managing to focus on anything. ¡°Gunther! Stay with me Gunther! I¡¯ll get you out of here!¡± John began to pull him towards one of the corners. Away from the exits. ¡°Auuwaaa. Auuwaaa! Aaaauuuuwaaaaaa! Auuwaaa! Aaaauuuuwaaaaaa!¡± Gunther cried out again. His empty eyes somehow managing to spot the other chutes. I don¡¯t know whether he heard the whistle. CRACK! His limbs went limp. Yet, miraculously, he still wasn¡¯t dead. Which either meant that I had completely misjudged the weight and volume of those bricks or¡­ or that Gunther was some kind of circus freak with a skull thicker than most military helmets. Regardless, he lived and so did John. ¡®Poor fools.¡¯ I thought. The gnomes giggled all around them. Their conical heads poking out of doorways and snickering. ¡°Lookie here lads!¡± Lookie here ladies!¡± ¡°It¡¯s flat head Gunther and killjoy John!¡± ¡°One drove his parents away and one drove his kids away!¡± ¡°Together they¡¯ll drive everyone away!¡± ¡°Hahahahahahahaha!¡±Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. ¡°Hahahahahahahaha!¡± ¡°Hahahahahahahaha!¡± ¡°Shut up!¡± John bellowed. Now drawing his service weapon. ¡°Come out here you bastards! I¡¯ll kill you all!¡± The gnomes did not oblige him. Instead, they each darted away with more mockery. Going through the trapped passages with impunity to check on the others. I followed suit and allowed my perspective to shift. ¡°This way Fergus.¡± Becca spoke softly. ¡°You can¡¯t let them get to you. You can¡¯t stop.¡± Fergus was not able to speak through the agony. His flesh still seared and blistering through the helmet. He was gasping. Taking quick shallow breaths as he tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Sadly, that meant that he wasn¡¯t paying too much attention on other matters. Such as how the air smelled or how his pain was slowly feeling more distant. ¡°Come on! We have to keep moving! We can¡¯t let the bastards win!¡± Becca was brave. Headstrong. She cared for Fergus, that much was clear. It was too bad that in her haste, she had not noticed the sedative wafting through the air. The way it slowed down her reactions ever so slowly. If her senses had not been dulled, she might have seen the beartrap. Even with it being as hidden as it was. Covered by a thin layer of sand. The contraption snapped and took off her leg at the knee. She screamed, as did Fergus when she lost her grip on him. Neither of them heard the bricks. Yet curiously, they too kept moving. Somehow. Which meant the bricks really weren¡¯t working as well as they should have been anymore. I grumbled a bit and opened up a fissure up on the surface. One that swallowed some wrecks off the street and saw them rushing down with all the power gravity could bestow. Two Pontiacs later and the job was finally finished. And that was a mercy in and of itself. They both stopped moving then, before the gnomes buzzing around the trapped and bloody hallways found their bodies. ¡®17 down. Not bad. Not great.¡¯ I mused. I moved my attention over to where the reporter was. Her form growing furry and swift and deadly as she grew a scorpion tail at the backside of her hips. Whereas most of the other passages had been drowned in silence, this particular one was filled with her echoing screams. That, and the sound of her claws raking the walls. ¡°I¡¯ll rip you apart!¡± She roared after the gnomes. ¡°You¡¯ll see! You¡¯ll all see! I¡¯ll tear you limb from limb and eat your liver raw!¡± She was shouting very vigorously and looking rather wolfish for someone who was presumably not the Detroit Cannibal. ¡®All that, and level 3 to boot. Too bad for anyone who went up against her before.¡¯ I allowed myself a moment to imagine what a fight between her and a random person off the street would have looked like. Even in cases where the presumed victim had a shotgun and a few grenades laying around, it wouldn¡¯t have been a fair fight. To top it all off, someone of that level was the most dangerous person in the Dungeon by far, save I and the child and the girl and the still-comatose James Robertson. I told the gnomes to lure her in further. Past the couches and the tables and slabs of obsidian placed where televisions would have been. The new designs were able to buzz silently when they wanted to or they could be as loud as chainsaws when the need arose for intimidation. Right now, those insectile wings made the gnomish heads seem as though they were floating through the air at high speeds. It also meant they didn¡¯t bump into anything in their way or trigger any of the traps laid out on the floor. The solid ground slowly gave way to slick black tar. One filled with the same flesh-eating microbes that I¡¯d found under Korea. With strong strands of black algae that would rise up to snatch and drown anything that brushed past them. Her wolfish paws sank into the muck. Slowing her down one heartbeat at a time as the plant matter shivered and coiled themselves around her ankles, before her awesome might made her rip herself off from the places where her feet and clawed hands landed. Her mouth snapped at the air, much like Gunther¡¯s own had done. Trying to rip and tear the gnomes in front of her. All while the scorpion-like tail swung about in the air. Rearing like a serpent. Alert and ready to strike. The giggling gnome kept flying out of reach, though I don¡¯t think the fact that it was using wings instead of feet registered in her mind. She kept dashing through the muck like a force of nature now unleashed. Barreling past all obstacles placed before her. Those thick hairy arms crushed wood and stone. Boulders big and small and all the many types of furniture I¡¯d placed inside the small maze to disorient delvers. Many of those were rigged to blow, with their inner parts being filled with dormant chemicals that would ignite once they came in contact with oxygen or with sticky, glue-like acids that would cling on to the delvers¡¯ bodies. All this and more happened to Jane the reporter, but none of my attacks seemed to grab her attention or otherwise slow her down. I then allowed water to rain down from the ceiling. Drenching her body more and more as I opened more crevices to spew out torrents of pressurized water. I could not make it so that the pressure was potent enough to slice a leveled person in half, yet, but I was hoping to slow her down some more just the same. It worked. More or less. Her legs were now sloshing through ankle-deep water as the sticky fluids below her became more and more diluted. Before she knew it, the water was up to her thighs and less than a minute later, the water was at her hips. The gnomes were not deterred. In fact, they left entirely through more open crevices on the ceiling that led to adjacent passaged. Their wings making it so that none of the polluted water had touched them from below. Jane the cannibal saw that, despite the darkness and she roared as her legs exploded with force. Her body trying to twist itself into the small aperture as her snout kept snapping at the air inside the hole. Thusly, she was unprepared when I sealed the other end of the small crevice before then filling it with pressurized water. ¡°Grrragahraghregelelrerrgergelrergle!¡± She said. I think. Her lungs filling with fluids due to how open her mouth was. She dropped backwards. Vomiting and gasping for air as her limbs flailed about for dear life. It was then that I decided to [Spawn] more monsters beside her and below her. A few Freezers, Lamia variants that I had not used for a long, long time due to how ineffective they were compared to the regular shooting units I was more accustomed to, with some Shockers as backup. Oh, and a few Piranha-men. A special variant with thick layers of insulating, grounding fat and natural rubber. Just to be on the safe side. The Freezers were the first to act, dropping the ambient temperature by more than 10 degrees at a stroke. The chemical reaction forcing the edges of the flooded tunnel to crackle and snap as ice crystals formed where water met stone. Jane shivered, but countered the effort my making her fur thicker and forcing her chest to expand in all directions as the sides of her body turned into gills. She followed that up by growing an additional set of arms and clawing at the ceiling once more. Now trying to dig herself out with savage claws, or perhaps trying to open a hole through which the water could be drained. ¡®Wrong move, but A-plus for effort.¡¯ The Shockers went next and their efforts made what little air remained shiver, as the water was reheated. Lightning arcing through all the molecules to fizzle and turn the river into steam. The Freezers were stunned by the friendly fire, the shockers were paralyzed and slightly winded for a few seconds, the Piranha-men were only slightly bothered. Jane the Detroit Cannibal¡­ was not so lucky. ¡°Oooooooohhhh!!! OOoooooohhh!!!! Oooaaoaoaoaaahhh!!!!¡± Her mouth kept making sounds as more and more water fell. The river now sizzling and bubbling around her as purple lights shone from beneath. The wetness in her fur sizzling into steam as her muscles seized and spasmed. ¡°EEEEEEKKKK!!! OOOAAOAaoaoaoao!!!! AAAAoooaoaoaoaaa!!! WHEEEAAOAOAAAA!!!!¡± All her hairs stood on end. Her eyes rolling back in to her head as¡­ for the briefest of moments, I and all my units could see her skeleton. ¡°WAAAAAAA!! WAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!! WEOAA!!!!!!!!!!!! WHOOOOOAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!¡± Her hands, which had stiffened up so much, finally let go of the ceiling, and she dropped into the bacteria-filled, monster infested waters below. ¡°Aaaahhh¡­.¡± Prepper鈥檚 Dungeon Chapter 92: Gnomish Variants. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± Ryuji spoke. Pushing away the hen healing him. ¡°I¡¯m fine Shizu. I don¡¯t need anymore healing.¡± ¡°Your hand is literally sizzling!¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter.¡± He spat. Clenching his teeth as he willed his eyes away and tried to stand. ¡°Hanako says she¡¯s lost more than 20 people¡¯s minds. That¡¯s 20 deaths in the blink of an eye. No one¡­¡± He winced in pain as the pulled himself to his feet. ¡°No one said the Dungeon could change so quickly. None of the Robertson files said anything like this was possible. They all said Dungeons were mostly static in their defences and that they spawned the same monsters and that most monsters on the upper levels were dumb as rocks. But that¡¯s obviously a load of nonsense.¡± He stared down what few forces he had left. ¡°Either Robertson-shi was a lazy idiot who didn¡¯t do any proper research, which I doubt given everything else we know, or this is some kind of anomaly he wasn¡¯t aware of. I am not in any hurry to find out which is the truth right now.¡± He gave her a hard stare, but eventually relented. ¡°Damn it all. Natsuki was right all along. I¡¯m an idiot.¡± ¡°Yes you are.¡± One of the girls, Natsuki, if I had to guess, spoke up. ¡°The literal army was here. The US army. Who, may I remind you, has a higher budget than most countries last time I checked. Sending thousands of people down to get powers each day. Those Robertson bastards were sure that the apocalypse was two and a half years away. There was no reason we couldn¡¯t wait about until all the people of the city got powers.¡± ¡°They would have pushed us around.¡± Ryuji complained. ¡°Hushed us up. They already tried remember? We escaped out of the black site together. We know how far they¡¯ll go to bury the truth until they have all the pieces. All it would take is a few people with better Cores and the pigs up in the government would have thought they could pressure us into anything.¡± ¡°And the people too.¡± Yet another girl complained. ¡°They would have forced everyone to register their Cores and they¡¯d conscript anyone who was stronger than average. They would have turned them and us into weapons they could use however they wanted. But that only works if a small minority gets powers. So that¡¯s why everyone needs to get Cores and Magic.¡± Natsuki huffed and puffed. Her eyes filled with disdain as she regarded the speaker. ¡°Of course you¡¯d rush into things Miho. Just like you to break your skull open on a brick wall.¡± She walked forwards and glared. ¡°We have more than two years. You dumb hick! Two! Years! Do you know how much time two years is!? Do you know how much stronger we could have gotten in two years!?¡± Miho didn¡¯t seem to like her tone very much. Because she stepped up and put on a face that suggested imminent violence. ¡°Yeah? Well how about this Dungeon? How many more floors would it have gotten in two years? How many more monsters would have gotten to the surface and munched on innocent people?¡± ¡°There¡¯s only so much we can do about that!¡± Natsuki protested. ¡°We¡¯re, like, in high-school! Yeah, we got kidnapped on a hunting trip and yeah, we ended up in an American shadow prison for no good reason, but the fact that we escaped doesn¡¯t mean we¡¯re invincible! On the contrary! Everything we¡¯ve learned indicates that we are all at the bottom of a very, very tall power scale. I mean¡­¡± She threw her arms up in exasperation. ¡°We don¡¯t even know what level we are! Or how close we are to the next level or even if we¡¯ve been training efficiently or not! We don¡¯t know because we haven¡¯t been able to get our hands on those Analyzers! The plan was to take them from that gorilla and the Robertson girl and look what happened! That monster ate a bullet without flinching and downed Ryuji with one punch. He wasn¡¯t even taking the fight seriously and he only had one Core! Versus us having two Cores. How does having two Cores even affect stats beyond the initial boost? Are we twice as strong? Doesn¡¯t look that way to me. Are we progressing twice as fast? Possible, but we don¡¯t have any way to confirm that. All we know is that we have twice as many Skills and two kinds of Magic to use. And that the second kind of Magic tends to be stronger than the first we got. That¡¯s it. Presumably the second Core is a higher Stage than the first Core we got, but even that is up for debate. There are so many things we don¡¯t know, so many things we have no idea about and things we don¡¯t know how to investigate that coming down here was nothing less than suicidal. I¡­¡± She heaved, flushing. Before she then started pacing about the room. Ignoring the human furniture and the open door leading to the next room. ¡°I don¡¯t know how I let you all talk me into this. This is literally the dumbest thing I¡¯ve ever done. I might die here. We might all die here. No one will know what happened and if anyone ever does find out, we¡¯ll end up being those kinds of kids who end up being laughed at over the internet for dying in stupid ways. Oh, my goodness. People will look at my obituary and laugh. They¡¯ll all laugh at me. I can¡¯t¡­. I can¡¯t breathe. I need some air I can¡¯t breathe!¡±Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Miho slapped her. ¡°Get ahold of yourself! You think panicking right now is gonna save you? You think going around calling us dumb is gonna help?¡± She slapped her again and Natsuki broke down crying. ¡°I didn¡¯t even want to be here!¡± She wept. ¡°I followed you because I thought we were saving the world! I thought we were going to let people know the truth so they could save themselves! That¡¯s all I ever wanted! I¡­ oh my goodness I just realized we got a bunch of soldiers and police officers killed! Oh my gosh! We¡¯re going to get put in jail! In regular prison! Our parents are going to know we got a bunch of people killed and that we got sent to prison! I can¡¯t be a criminal! I can¡¯t be a criminal! I didn¡¯t mean for any of this to happen! I¡­ I never wanted to fight! I wanted to do the right thing but I didn¡¯t want this!¡± ¡°Enough.¡± Ryuji¡¯s voice cut through the noise. Silencing everyone. ¡°I see now. We were too hasty. I was too hasty and my hubris got people killed.¡± He sucked in a deep, resonating breath and finally pushed off the nearby wall. Standing on his own two feet. ¡°It¡¯s a mistake that will haunt me for the rest of my life, but it was my mistake. I made the call. I will bear the responsibility. If the Colonel Lander-san or anyone else in charge wants to put us in jail, I¡¯ll claim all responsibility and say it was my call to make and that I dragged you all here against your will.¡± Miho whirled snarling. ¡°That¡¯s a load of nonsense!¡± ¡°Yeah!¡± Shizu and Hanako agreed. ¡°We all decided to come here together! To help! We¡¯re not gonna let you get hung out to dry!¡± ¡°Yeah! What they said!¡± Another girl whose name I didn¡¯t know spoke out. ¡°We¡¯ve come all this way together! We¡¯ve fought off secret agents and actual, literal monsters to get here! We¡¯ve dodged bullets and assassins and spooky men in suits trying to kidnap us again! We can¡¯t let it end like this! We can still make it! We can still push through and conquer the Dungeon and stop all the monsters from getting to the surface!¡± The maiden without a name reddened. ¡°We can still save the world!¡± That statement hushed all the other onlookers. Though I could not truly say what kind of thoughts were running through their heads at that precise moment. No. My thoughts and attention were completely taken by all the gnomes I had buzzing around. All the new units I was birthing. All the plots the Saboteurs were weaving up on the surface on my command. Oh, and the bricks. The two dozen bricks still falling from chutes and crevices in the ceilings of all those labyrinthine rooms. More and more found the heads of soldiers. Cracking skulls open like eggshells. One more found Gunther¡¯s skull and failed to crush it. Two found their way into the chamber the youths were occupying. Now, several people would have different accounts as to what was the last thing to pass through the unnamed maiden¡¯s head. Some would say it was love for the man in the trench coat. Others would say, it was the natural sense of righteousness she felt for humanity at large. Yet I knew the answer was different. The last thing to go through her head, was a heavy chunk of stone. CRACK!! The first one smashed her skull into a bloody ruin. CRACK!!!! The second send yet another shock through her torso. Shattering her ribcage and making her arms waggle in mid-air for half a heartbeat. Almost as if she were being controlled by a puppeteer in her final moments. But then they dropped downwards. And became drenched in her life¡¯s blood as it flowed down to the greedy ground below. Ryuji and the rest of his group stared. Uncomprehending. Their mouths slack and unmoving as they watched the broken corpse begin to cool. ¡°AAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!¡± One of the girls screeched. And then, like a dam breaking, they were all screeching along as well. Losing themselves in the horror in front of them. Little did they know, their problems were only starting. Giggles sounded out from the doorway. The distinct cry of gnomes. Then, faces popped out. One, two, three, five, seven¡­ More and more conical skulls coming together to mock the group before them. ¡°Oh my goodness! Did you see that boys!¡± ¡°I did! I did! It¡¯s like she had the final destination curse or something! Her skull popped like a balloon!¡± ¡°Nah! Balloons don¡¯t pop like that folks! Her head popped like one of those cherry goo filled doughnuts when you stuff them too much. One bite is all it takes for cherry goo to fly all over the place!¡± ¡°Oh yeah! And wasn¡¯t that a nice speech at the end. So nice it gave me tinnitus!¡± ¡°Yeah yeah! Going on about saving the world and the power of friendship and ugh! I think I got a hernia just from thinking about how much effort that was going to be! I better take a shot of Russian tap water to mask the image of Casper pulling their strings!¡± ¡°And boy is he doing a lot of pulling! My word! That man¡¯s neck and shoulders must be stiff as steel support beams with how hard he¡¯s carrying this stupid group of losers!¡± ¡°Yeah! No kidding! It¡¯s so hard watching these bozos go on and on about the power of friendship when they¡¯re really all a bunch of fat, out of shape losers wearing skimpy cosplay outfits to mask their daddy issues!¡± ¡°You said it pal! My gag reflex acted up so much just now I thought I was watching live footage from a big pony convention!¡± ¡°Power of love!? Try the power of soap once in a while. You¡¯ll thank me later.¡± ¡°Oh please, as if these guys knew what soap was. They probably sniff it twice and think it¡¯s a new type of candy to shove down their gullets to get another boost of sugar and dopamine to distract themselves from the agony of their continued existence.¡± ¡°At least this new girl doesn¡¯t need to do any of that. She just needs a new group of enthusiastic janitors sharing one big shovel to get all those bits of brain off the floor before they stain the carpet!¡± One of the girls babbled something incoherently. Hands grasping the sides of her head. Then she screamed and wailed and threw her hands at the doorway. Shattering the stone to reveal the bodies of the gnomes hiding behind the barrier. While the heads had remained true to what I knew of gnomes, the bodies had been modified to fit my purposes. Aside from the buzzing wings, the rest of the body below the neck was also reminiscent of an insect. More specifically, that of an emerald cockroach wasp. With vibrant, gem-like shells and thick corded muscles underneath. Oh, and the injectors. One could not forget about the injectors. Indeed, several of the emerald gnomes laughed and cackled as they drifted away. Wings buzzing with malice as their eyes kept track of their victims. ¡°Look at them guys! They¡¯re still in shock!¡± ¡°I think they¡¯re impressed by our impressive tools boys!¡± ¡°Yeah! I bet they¡¯ve never seen ones as big as ours!¡± All the gnomes laughed maliciously. ¡°Hold on boys, I think they think they¡¯re a bunch of stingers.¡± Another gnome piped up. His rosy cheeks reddening even further, as if he was a teen that just heard his first raunchy joke. ¡°They¡¯re not.¡± Yet another gnome explained. ¡°They¡¯re ovipositors.¡± They all laughed at once. Their sounds echoing up and down the adjacent halls. Drowning out all other noise. After that, they begun their advance once more. Eyes wide with expectation, as drool dripped down from the sides of their mouths. Prepper鈥檚 Dungeon Chapter 93: All Stop Moving. I will admit, the emerald wasps were a bit much. The idea had come to me after the girl began showing us all kinds of unique and interesting predators that could be found on planet Earth. This particular species could essentially inject roaches with a paralytic venom, followed by its own eggs. Eggs that would, in time, hatch. And eat the poor roach from the inside. The gnomes were not able to inject other gnomes through this process of course, but they could inject Parasitic Worms. The kind that Body-Snatchers and Saboteurs shot at enemies. Naturally, the act of stabbing someone wasn¡¯t as effective as shooting them, but effectiveness wasn¡¯t was I was going for here. No¡­ someone had taken the boy¡¯s family and my creations besides. It would not stand. A message had to be sent. And I had a pretty good idea as to go about it. The Emerald Gnomes threw themselves at the group. Injectors sharp as razors while their tongues licked at the corners of their lips. It was a disgusting sight, but gnomes were disgusting creatures. So that was to be expected. The trench coat fool raised his hands and shot out a crackle of lightning. The gnomes barely noticed. They shot out like buzzing bullets. Lethally fast. One heartbeat, two heartbeats¡­ The seconds passed on and on as the gnomes closed the distance in the time between blinks. I saw them reaching him, two at once. Knives entering through his right lungs and liver both as his body¡­ His body¡­ Vanished. In a rush of light and displaced air. I saw it all through all the gnomes and all the stones that made up the living walls. He was gone, as were the girls. Even the one who¡¯d been killed. I smiled. My body writhing with barely contained glee and jubilation within the confines of my great big Pool. ¡®Just as planned.¡¯ I almost giggled to myself. ¡®Hehe! I can¡¯t believe that went so well!¡¯ It had been the most basic and cursory of assumptions. Casper would not have any funds to work with, now that he¡¯d betrayed Carlyle. Sure, he might be able to steal an important thing here and there and he might be able to find all kinds of employment with his Magic, but the act of breaking away from Carlyle meant you¡¯d need more than that. A nest egg to rip your whole life off the ground and start again. He needed funding, and the logical choice was Ryuji Hanamura. So of course, Casper would have some way to keep track of him. Why, I¡¯m surprised he didn¡¯t have anyone tagging along to keep an eye on him. Whatever method was used to follow the fools around would be their undoing however. I had purposely set many many different and varied traps so far and I had deployed beasts so vile as gnomes. These flashy obstacles took up all of the delver¡¯s attention, as well they should. One can hardly keep calm after being taunted so viciously. Yet it was this rage that had doomed them all. For while they were focused on the horrors they saw, they weren¡¯t focused on the horrors they weren¡¯t seeing. Horrors like the modified Sky Shroom spores that floated around the stagnant air in microscopic doses. A good many of those spores had gone into their lungs by now and all still carried instructions for what do with their hosts. On the first day, weakness. One the second day, fever and anxiety. On the third day, delusions and hallucinations, as the fungal stalks started hijacking the nervous system. Forcing the host to wander off and seek the highest point they could find. And on the fourth day¡­ well. The resulting bio-organism would be much like the Masterminds. Temporary signal boosters aligned with my own Magic. I did not know what the maximum range would be, but I had high expectations for what three levels worth of improvements could do. If Casper didn¡¯t wise up that is. The smartest and simplest way to counteract my little surprise would be to kill all the infected, and to then burn the bodies for good measure. Or to simply be a high enough level that the spores just can¡¯t take hold in the first place. Any level 2 or higher would likely be safe as their immune systems would kill the infection while it was still in its early stages.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. He could easily kill them all and dump their bodies in a ditch somewhere in the other side of the world. But I was betting he wouldn¡¯t. ¡®Casper is soft of heart and soft of mind. Letting his emotions blind him to the practical truths the old man spouted. The old man had been cruel and vicious. But he had not been wrong. Not yet anyway. Casper had a way of failing to see that his way was the best and most logical way, due to the sacrifices it entailed. Failing to see how those sacrifices would let many more survive in the future. He will not kill them.¡¯ Not only that, I was betting that he would be so foolish as to expose other normal human collaborators to the infected as well. There had to have been at least one. Likely an entire group working from the shadows to coordinate the leak of information as well as him fleeing and becoming lost despite Carlyle¡¯s connections. And him getting lost was the only way his plan made any sense at all. If enough of his pawns got infected¡­ why, a man like Casper might actually be stupid enough to risk the Dungeon in person, trusting that his levels would let him overpower me. ¡®Let him keep thinking that.¡¯ I thought to myself with much satisfaction. ¡®Let him grow angry and desperate. Let him grow rash and stupid. Let him come.¡¯ If he did, he would be in for one of the greatest surprises of his life. But enough about that. There were still soldiers running about the end of the first floor and the Cannibal was still not truly dead. The former were running for their lives. Letting grenades fly at the Emerald Gnomes as they laughed cheerfully towards them or otherwise emptying spare weapons of ammunition as they kept retreating room by room. A couple of soldiers stumbled into a room filled with quicksand that sucked them in towards the center of the chamber. The grains moving in unison to drag them underneath the surface and choke the life out of them. Sadly, or perhaps mercifully, the gnomes found them first and stabbed their weapons into their screaming faces and through their skulls. Another trio tried to batter down a door, only for the wooden boards to explode violently in their direction. The Napalmlings hiding it coordinating to all blow up at the same time to maximize the damage. The wooden splinters flew like burning shrapnel and eviscerated two of the three where they stood. Their intestines falling out and splattering out unto the floor as they screamed and screamed and screamed. The third did not try to help. Instead, he ran forwards through the new opening. Weeping bitter tears as he desperately hoped to find a passage leading to the surface. Instead, he found a room where three Emerald Gnomes were perched on the darkened high ceiling. Hidden and ready to strike. His legs stumbled upon a section of sticky oil and his right boot refused to come out of it. And that was all the gnomes needed. They fell like thunderbolts. Their injectors stabbing in three points and dropping the man into an unresponsive, paralyzed mess. He wept as he felt the next few stabs and his face stared out into the shadows beyond the current room. His limbs heavy as steel beams when their help was needed the most. The soldier died. Alone and terrified. Praying for it to end. I turned my attention to the other two. To Gunther and John. Still dragging themselves across many spiralling chambers in hopes of finding a way out. They were out of grenades at the moment. And out of ammo as well. Getting by thanks to the blades they had taken from Herr Muller. The ones I¡¯d made out of level three bones. The instruments were, obviously, far superior to anything else they could have brought on such short notice and even now, they kept their keen edge. Slicing and dicing through the weaker units placed in their path. ¡®I have to give them this much; they have definitely exceeded my expectations.¡¯ They had killed so many Sunflower Brutes in the past hour that I was more or less sure they¡¯d each gained nearly a full stat point between their different attributes. That much growth might have allowed others to live. To burst through a few more walls in order to beat the odds and flee. But as they took one wrong corner after another, I knew that was not to be. And I wasn¡¯t about to let them simply walk away after becoming complicit in the kidnappings. I let loose two more bricks from the ceiling. Angling them so that they struck true so long as they kept moving in their current direction at their current speed. Gunther¡¯s brick found his skull with another brutal Crack! John¡¯s brick took him in the shoulder. Shattering the shoulder blade and forcing a scream out of the man. He fell, weeping from the pain and Gunther stumbled right over him. His eyes swivelling in their smokestacks as drool fell down the side of his face. I had to admit, I was somewhat impressed. Taking that much head trauma and likely cervical spine fractures and surviving was half a miracle. My senses flared. The light returned. The two were gone. As were the spores in their lungs. The light flashed two more times and another two groups went missing. I smiled internally and moved my attention once more to where the Cannibal was raging. She had grown gills now. Along with three more stingers on her back and another pair of thin clawed arms and tentacles ending in sharpened barbs. She opened her mouth as if to roar, but her lupine jaws instead find another were-piranha. Ripping an arm off the creature even as its other limb raked her chest and the thing¡¯s own fangs found her throat. Jane Holland was not deterred. Striking out with undaunted fury and managing incomprehensible speeds despite being underwater. She rips. She tears. She rushes forward and she kills. She shifts out of the way and dodges a lethal blow while taking on half a dozen lighter wounds. The blackened water was too dark to see anything, but I could taste blood through the walls and through my units and I knew the waters were reddish brown with the coppery taste of blood. The monsters tried to surround her and she would dance through the water to claw open the first one and use the body as a shield to absorb further blows. Her own arms stretch out to crush a skull against the wall beside it but the piranha slips from her grasp. A jellyfish takes her from behind and its venom breaks through a few of her still open wounds. She whirls. She turns. She strikes out and misses. Another jellyfish, another set of tentacles, comes up from below and the venom burns her further. She screams, but her screams die out under the black water. The light tried to shine again, but Jane Holland took the rush of power as an attack. She bites and claws and sends her would-be saviour packing. Then more piranhas take more bites and Magic flows out from her body to try and stem all the bleeding and close all the wounds. To burn away the venom and the other kinds of sickness the water contained. It keeps working, until the Magic begins to sputter. Begins to fail. She opens her mouth to wail in agony, but her throat gets torn out. The blood in the water grows thicker and then¡­ And then¡­ The body goes still. As each unit claims its prize with wild abandon. There are no more survivors now. No more living people within my Dungeon. I nodded my head and felt my connection to the boy and the girl remain steady. I open the surface tunnels again and move to grow new floors and new passages. Casper would be coming soon, after all. And I needed to weaken him as much as possible when he and his posse actually deigned to come down here. Prepper鈥檚 Dungeon Chapter 94: Huge Scandal. The street was busy as many different peoples were moving loads back and forth. Boots stomping on the uneven ground. As all the onlookers kept their silence. Indeed, the day was quiet and hushed, with hardly anyone making a sound, save for the odd sob or gasp of horror. I was looking through the eyes of the Muller Saboteur. Watching the recovery teams bringing back body after body after body. All of whom had been mangled beyond recognition. Up until this point, there hadn¡¯t really been any deaths for those exploring the Dungeon, as I¡¯d taken care to make sure none of my units landed lethal blows. Even with the Spider-Dragon, my control over it had made sure all those it snatched out from helicopters floated down to the ground mostly unharmed. Now the bodies were stinking up the place. Both literally and metaphorically. As all the militiamen and women who saw them being carted out blanched and retreated a few steps. Death had not touched them because I had no reason to want them dead, but they had no way of knowing that. For all they knew, whatever killed the soldiers in front of them would still be out there. Still hungry. I let them make their attempts in regards to figuring out what had happened with all the different wounds on display and sent Muller back into the command tent. ¡°This is a catastrophe!¡± The mayor roared in indignation. ¡°How come no one saw this coming!? Huh!? How come no one thought to send more soldiers!?¡± Colonel Lander gave him a withering look. Mostly fueled by a great big load of indignation as to the sheer amount of hypocrisy on display. The mayor had, of course, been one of the loudest voices calling for Ryuji Hanamura to prove the files were true and for him and his so-called elite team to get rid of all the man-eating monsters scrambling below his feet. No doubt he hoped to get this mess over and done with as soon as possible so he could get back to dealing with boring meetings that started at 12pm and ran until 3pm. Now that those hopes had been dashed, the man seemed half a corpse in his own right. Eyes wide and searching for just about anything he could grab ahold of in order to dig himself out of the rather deep hole he¡¯d dug for himself. It would have been frustrating, if Muller was a real person and not a glorified meat puppet. As things stood, I let the Saboteur stay silent as his hand brought up a phone borrowed from Colonel Lander. The recording app played back the man¡¯s insistence on the operation and he somehow managed to blanche even further. ¡°Gi-give me that!¡± He roared. Muller did not stop him from taking the phone, but also noted that the tent was most certainly being bugged by a bunch of different agencies and / or Colonel Lander himself. Lander shrugged instead of answering directly and brought out a map. Placing it on the table and spreading it out before him. ¡°All right gentlemen, listen up.¡± He begun. ¡°Given how the last operation went and the fact that it relied on Mr. Hanamura¡¯s information¡­ information that went directly against what Herr Muller stated earlier, I¡¯m going to assume that he did not, in fact, know what he was doing. Actually, I¡¯ll go one step further. I will not be relying on anything that imbecile said until I can get confirmation through our own sources.¡± Herr Muller nodded on my command and opened his mouth to speak. ¡°The mission has not changed. More entrances will start popping up all around the city. More tunnels will need to be manned. More people need to start heading down in militia groups.¡± ¡°Yeah right.¡± The Governor scoffed. She took out a small canteen and poured out the contents into a shot glass. Before then swallowing the amber liquid and throwing the glass into the floor where it shattered into a thousand pieces. ¡°That right there is the morale of all the people that came over here looking for magic powers. Fool. You¡¯ll have a better chance drinking from that glass than you will convincing your average Joe to risk his life and limbs fighting mutants in a murder hole after a bunch of soldiers got turned into Swiss cheese and bloody pulps of meat.¡± I looked at the debris and arched an eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯m not saying everyone will go down willy nilly, but a bunch will go down all the same. For the safety of their families in the city, if not for their desire to keep growing.¡± The Muller doll shrugged. ¡°Say what you want, but the monsters will keep coming and the fact remains the ones in the surface, or close to the surface, are still safe to fight. Also, not to rub it in or anything, but I did tell you all this would happen. More than once.¡± Colonel Lander at least had the good sense to look ashamed. Though he did not allow himself to wallow in the feeling. ¡°Enough already.¡± He said stiffly. ¡°We have to figure out what to do about this situation moving forwards. No matter what else happens, the people of the city have to be defended.¡± He coughed into his hand. ¡°We¡¯ll start by bringing in more trucks through here, here and here. These trucks will carry in supplies and soldiers and leave with more and more refugees. I¡¯ve already been in contact with FEMA and we have a few tent cities sprouting up on the farmland surrounding the city. The most vulnerable populations, like families with young children, will get hotel rooms in nearby cities and towns¡­¡± Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be so quick to evacuate.¡± I spoke through the puppet. ¡°At least keep the healthy adults you¡¯ve got on hand and organize more militia parties.¡± ¡°No need for that.¡± Colonel Lander rebutted. ¡°We¡¯ll be using proper soldiers from now on. Ours, as well as Nato peacekeeping troops and other qualified volunteers.¡± He paused to suck in a breath. ¡°I will not risk the lives of civilians. Not now. Not unless it becomes absolutely necessary. This whole militia was a mistake.¡± ¡°No one from the militia has died.¡± I pointed out. ¡°Probably because they knew to stay close to the surface. And they weren¡¯t completely high on the smell of their own farts.¡± Colonel Lander stared at the doll with cold, hard eyes. ¡°You were stronger than all of them put together.¡± He declared. It wasn¡¯t a question, but a statement he thought to be true. I nodded through the spy. ¡°You could have gone with them.¡± He said again. ¡°You could have saved them.¡± ¡°Me being there would not have saved them.¡± I spoke truthfully. ¡°They were dead the second they thought themselves invincible. The whole reasoning as to why we should get as many people into the Dungeon at once is that nobody is invincible. No one is going to step up and be the unquestioned savior of humanity. No person can bear the burden or be trusted to save all the other people around them all the time. At some point, we as humans will have to get comfortable with the idea that some degree of violence is necessary in order to survive. The sooner the people get used to this new reality, the better. Because if they don¡¯t then the corpses will really start piling up before any of us can blink. If not now, then when the predicted end comes along.¡± Lander cut me off. ¡°Speaking of which, that information retrieved from the Robertsons¡­?¡± He didn¡¯t elaborate, but his eyes asked the rest of the question well enough. ¡°My motto is trust but verify.¡± I told him through Muller¡¯s lips. ¡°It should be yours too. Right now, we know Magic is real and that I can prove it by heling people. We know that the monsters will keep coming. We know they will get even more dangerous. We know humans can grow beyond their normal limits. So they will either get comfortable with fighting monsters or they¡¯ll have to live with the possibility that this could happen to them too.¡± I made the Muller puppet get back and step away from the table. ¡°At the very least, we can tell people the truth. Not like they don¡¯t know it in any case. But we need to go out and tell them that these are their choices right now. Get strong or get bent.¡± Lander grumbled, but brought out the laptop to get in contact with the Pentagon. ¡°Prioritize soldiers.¡± He was told. ¡°Have them delving deeper and getting into fights more often. But don¡¯t dissolve the militias.¡± The bald general brushed his whiskers. Staring at his peers. ¡°We have confirmation that the effects of exposure aren¡¯t negative in any case. Not the immediate ones. Carlyle Robertson has confirmed as much during that whole senate hearing last night. He¡¯s looking at 30 to life if he doesn¡¯t cooperate to the fullest extent he can so I¡¯m inclined to believe him. That and we need to have a bigger pool of candidates to study this so-called Magic more closely. We might get people who can shoot fire out of their hands or we might get people who can cure Cancer for all we know.¡± ¡°The food can already cure Cancer.¡± The mayor interrupted. Unhelpfully. ¡°I was giving you an example, sir.¡± The general groaned with irritation. ¡°Maybe we¡¯ll get someone who can produce unlimited electricity instead. The point is we don¡¯t know and the info we keep getting is incomplete as well as nonsensical. Share it more or less openly and only keep the volunteers who chose to stay after that, but do try to keep the militias running. We¡¯ll start to dig deeper and deeper into the Dungeon. Slowly and carefully. With backup teams close behind at all times to dig people out of shifting passages. No more vanishings. Not on my watch.¡± Muller nodded. So did the others. The following day saw me opening more tunnels to the surface and widening the first floor to run the length of the entire city. Small corridors cris-crossing multiple times at varying elevations throughout the expanding maze. The massive complex grew so large that I decided to split the first floor into three distinct sections. All stacked atop one another and all increasing in difficulty as one descended through one of the only three passages connecting the last floor to the next. What used to be the second floor thus became the fourth and fifth respectively. While the old third became the sixth and the seventh. The flooded tunnels having been expanded so that the length of it ran far beyond the old borders of the city of Detroit. Dungeon walls greedily reaching out to swallow normal, mundane earth in order to twist it into yet more birthing places for my units. For my monsters. The old fourth then became the eight and the ninth. The swampy mud now congealing with even more surprises, as the hollow space became more and more filled with pillboxes and entrenched positions. Where my units would be able to overwhelm all the attackers that did not take note of the fact they weren¡¯t welcome. More reporters arrived as well. Camera crews now saturating the crowds as men and women pushed against one another to discuss the graphic scenes captured by Jane Holland¡¯s cameras. The equipment had remained running all this while and the things they captured inspired all manner of horrified reactions back on the surface. Yet the camera crews did not seem scared. Far from it in fact. Everyone Herr Muller and my other Saboteurs saw was full of greed and lust for glory. Their faces going from crocodile tears to giddy jubilation within seconds of the cameras being off and the feed going to somewhere else. A few had even gone so far as to descend a ways into the first floor. Making sure to travel horizontally instead of vertically at all crossroads and never straying further than a hundred or so metres into the journey. By the third day, that trend had inspired a series of Ourtube streamers. Coming down to the Dungeon alongside militia units and doing the bare minimum to not get kicked off their respective teams. It was all rather amusing to me, yet it did not matter in the end. The child and the girl agreed that they wanted as many people delving as possible and so that was what I was going to be doing. I certainly did not want to alienate them any further than I already had, lest I never get another chance to resurface. Though it was hard to tell whether that caution was itself borne from our current connection. By the fourth day, none of that mattered. The first few hundred delvers were now reaching a full 2 on a few of their stats. A sign of constant hard work up till now. A few soldiers were now arriving with Analyzers of their own, which told me that the old man had struck some kind of deal with the powers that be after all. But the most exciting news, was the new signatures trying to blend into the background of a busy street. Some of them were level 3. Some level 4. But none of them mattered. The only one who did, was the main target of my efforts. Whether motivated by the fungal infection or by the passing of his new patron, it did not matter. Casper had come to die. And I would be nothing if not obliging. Prepper鈥檚 Dungeon Chapter 95: The Traitor鈥檚 Hand. POV: Casper. The city was abuzz with a strange sort of energy. Like the crackle of a bug trap around a cloud of moths. It wasn¡¯t the usual energy of a city, all cars and horns blaring up and down the road as colorful drivers flipped each other off and said even more colorful things about the other guy¡¯s mother. No. In fact, the road felt strangely naked with the absence of cars. Like one of those old coal mining towns that had sprung up along the mountains in the past few centuries and which had been more or less abandoned the second the mines ran dry. It wasn¡¯t that there weren¡¯t any cars at all of course, but the few that could be seen moving about had the road pretty much all to themselves. The vehicles having been loaded up with people and belongings. Bags strapped to the top when the trunks had all been filled to the brim. The sidewalks were also strange. With people going about their business with a lot more energy than they¡¯d had a week ago. Makeshift weapons appearing in every belt and poking out of every backpack. Spiked bats and shovels and sharpened metal bits attached to poles visible on nearly every person I passed. Guns were on display as well, but a few of the stronger-looking people had decided to ditch them altogether. Instead loading up on one more spiked bat or home-forged heavy hammers in the style of the late renaissance era. It was odd to see them like that. To see people walking around in that manner. Here of all places. As if the madness had spread out from the festering wound that was Carlyle¡¯s mad ambition. As if the taint had permanently changed the world. ¡®No. That¡¯s wrong.¡¯ I told myself. ¡®It was always going to be this way. It didn¡¯t really matter what else happened or what I did to stop it. Carlyle was right on this at least. The monsters were always going to come up from the ground. The people would learn about Magic. The governments would panic and try to keep it under wraps until they understood what they were dealing with. None of these things could be helped.¡¯ At least it wasn¡¯t as bad now as the timeline Carlyle first lived through. The proper apocalypse, with actual, literal roving bands of monsters and beastmen ripping their way out of the ground to butcher anyone they could get their hands on was still two and a half years away. Give or take a few months. But the truth was already out there and humanity had no way to ignore that Magic was real. Even people with barely any internet out in the sticks of third world countries knew by now and the details of what training oneself entailed were out there as well. No one would be left behind this time. No one would be taken advantage of because they didn¡¯t fit neatly into the old man¡¯s master plan. Even the people walking around me now had had their entire lives changed because of what we did. Because of what I did. At the very least, they would all have a fighting chance. Because of what we did. Because of what I did. ¡®Stop that.¡¯ I chided myself. ¡®Uter is right. You¡¯re beating yourself up for no reason. This had to be done. Billions of lives depended on it. Carlyle was forming a faction poised to take over the world. He was already killing off dictators who didn¡¯t give him what he wanted and buying off those he could. He was a tyrant waiting to take over everything and we were the only ones who could have stopped it. There wasn¡¯t anything else we could have done.¡¯ I felt my left-hand tremble and clutched at it with my right. Steadying it as the memories flared up again. My mind cringing with shame as the face came into focus. The voice. The pleading. I shook my head and continued down the street. Ignoring the crowds dragging the bodies of Cecil¡¯s pets. ¡®Cecil.¡¯ I thought again. ¡®Damn it. He¡¯s just a kid. He didn¡¯t deserve this. I have got to get him out.¡¯ Another pang of guilt came over me, but I quickly snuffed it out before it could build itself back up. It was funny, in a way. Five different despots had died at my hand and I¡¯d always been able to choke out the voices with enough booze. But James and Charles had been different. The former had at least the good grace to die out of sight. Or, well¡­ Out of my sight. Elsie and Cecil might have been there when it happened. Not a fun thing to think about but there wasn¡¯t anything I could do about it. The latter though, had died in my arms. Staring incredulously at me as he did so. ¡®It was your fault, idiot.¡¯ I thought bitterly. ¡®I told you to get out of the way and let us go. I told you it didn¡¯t have to be this way. I never wanted you dead.¡¯ I thought of his kids. Only slightly older than mine. ¡®I never wanted you dead.¡¯ I kept repeating. ¡®I never wanted you dead.¡¯ ¡®I never wanted you dead.¡¯ ¡®I never wanted you dead.¡¯ This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. ¡®Why didn¡¯t you just get out of the way?¡¯ It was a wonder he hadn¡¯t, in all honesty. He and I had seen eye to eye far more than with anyone else. He was always butting heads with James and Carlyle. Going on and on about how we needed to expand and to let the world at large know. Going on and on about how we were killing billions by keeping quiet and building ourselves up out of sight. He knew it was all true. He knew it was all so Carlyle could keep control of the new world as the old powers collapsed. He knew. He knew¡­ But he did not stand down. And now his kids were orphans. I shook my head again and made my way over to the address. Keeping my eyes peeled for anyone who might be tailing me while also eyeing the would-be delvers springing up. As to the former, I couldn¡¯t sense anyone out of place. Though granted, that had never been my strong suit. As far as I could tell, the throngs surrounding me were just that. People packed into walking masses. Holding on to their weapons and making their way to some place or other. Either having left their previous lives to delve and get Magic for themselves after seeing the details about the future, or otherwise going about their business and trying to get to work as usual. As to the latter, well¡­ The guys here were not the guys I delved with. Nor were they akin to the guys on the less important towns with less powerful Cores. Those guys made up for their lack of raw power with enthusiasm most of the time. That and lots and lots of proper gear made with fancy magic metals. It wasn¡¯t enough to bridge the gap completely but it meant they could keep up with us throughout the first thirty floors of most Dungeons we knew. In contrast, the people wandering about seemed a bit too enthusiastic about delving. Especially given the poor homemade armor they were wearing. Things like Kevlar vests or army surplus supplies or, on the odd occasion, steel plates welded together at home. Oddly enough, those last ones were the most prepared for what a Dungeon could vomit out into the world. Normally, I¡¯d expected people like these to suffer casualties in the tens of thousands. At least. The fact that no such thing had happened told me that this Dungeon was either not fully awake or that it was awake and Cecil was holding back on purpose. Which was good, because a fully working Dungeon might have swallowed up half the city without strong Delvers keeping it busy and Cecil might have done the same if he wasn¡¯t fully in control of himself. ¡®Or worse.¡¯ I reminded myself. Thinking back to the wounds on the children coming back up from the Dungeon in Korea. The burrowing bugs that scrambled to hollow out organs and tissue after being shot into their bodies and the worms that wriggled to bite down on nerve tissue while displacing gallons of blood. Cecil could, and would, do worse if he wasn¡¯t in control. And he¡¯d probably seen James die right alongside Elsie. I felt another surge of guilt giving me a headache and forced it down with brute force. Moving on to walk over to the apartment building. I reached it less than an hour later, making sure to take a few twists and turns here and there to blend into the flowing crowds. I didn¡¯t see anyone following me in particular, but it never hurt to be careful now that Carlyle knew what I¡¯d done. Chances were good that he already had people hunting me. Chances were good that either Homer or Russell were among those people. Maybe both. I wasn¡¯t about to take chances. As for the building itself, it was a run-down collection of exposed bricks and boarded-up windows. The kind of place that unkind people might have called a slum. Where rooms were cheap and crime was high. Indeed, I saw half a dozen roaches skittering on the floor the second I opened the front door to the vestibule and no less than three dozen flies whirling about the overflowing trashcans on my way up to the stairs. There was an elevator, but I was sure it wasn¡¯t working. ¡®At least there aren¡¯t many people around.¡¯ I told myself. ¡®Most of them will have seen the money the mayor is offering for volunteer Delvers. I¡¯m not sure that¡¯s the kind of money people who live here can pass up.¡¯ There were more roaches along the way. And ants. Lots and lots of ants coming in and out of small holes in the corners. Mold too, as if the ants weren¡¯t enough. The ceiling having been painted with a collection of blackish spots throughout the stairway and the hall I exited into. It was enough to wonder how the whole place hadn¡¯t been burned down by a city inspector after they took a single look around and threw up into their own bags. Though that notion assumed that anyone cared enough about the place to inspect it in the first place. ¡®Probably not.¡¯ I decided. ¡®Doesn¡¯t look like anyone cared about this place in years.¡¯ I kept walking. Stepping gingerly around wet spots in the rotting rugs and trying not to think about what might have caused them. I moved over to the door and knocked lightly. Five times quickly and then two times slowly. Before giving the wooden planks another three fast knocks. Someone on the other side started complaining about how long it had taken me and about how much honor my mother lacked. Apparently unaware that anyone above level 1 could have heard him from the stairwell. I felt another pang of shame crawling up my spine then, but put it away. These men may be a bunch of sneaky, money-grubbing weasels, but they never pretended to be anything more than that. And as bad as they were, none of them had ever been traitors. I wasn¡¯t exactly in a position to judge. The door opened and a stout, barrel chested man appeared in the way. Wearing an open, stained shirt so that his black, course hair was left out in the open. Those chest hairs were all stained with Cheeto dust. As were the hairs on his beard. His beady blue eyes narrowing in consternation at my figure. ¡°What are you wearing?¡± He asked with a low growl. ¡°A shirt.¡± I answered him. Resisting the urge to tell him that maybe that was something he could learn from me. He shook his head. ¡°No, why does it say?¡± ¡°It was something I bought recently from a thrift store.¡± I explained. ¡°Just like the midlife crisis sunglasses. Best way to remain anonymous. People might stare, but no one will stare for long.¡± ¡°He¡¯s right.¡± Raymond spoke up from behind the brute. ¡°People tend to look over people they pity, Zeke. Makes it all the easier for those people to get kicked in the shins. Like our dear friend Carlyle found out recently.¡± I allowed my eyes to drift over to where Raymond was standing and took in his figure. He was still stick-thin. Still plagued with that grotesque little lump in his throat that bobbed up and down whenever he spoke or swallowed along with his Adam¡¯s apple. Anyone else might have assumed it was a cancerous tumor, but apparently not as Cecil¡¯s food had taken care of all his Cancers. Other than that, he looked remarkably healthy for someone who had been in his deathbed two months ago and remarkably upbeat some someone who had just seen his company¡¯s stock plunging down like an anvil dropped from a skyscraper less than a week ago. ¡°Good day to you Raymond. It¡¯s nice to see you again.¡± I lied. The man in question didn¡¯t seem to notice. Rushing over to hug me as if we¡¯d been lifelong friends before this. ¡°Casper! Casper! I¡¯m so glad you could make it after all! I was starting to get worried!¡± He wrapped his arms about me and squeezed as hard as someone without a Core could. ¡°Come in! Come in! I was just seeing the news!¡± The news in question was playing on the older TV in the room. Carlyle sitting before the US congress and being made to answer some very delicate questions. His answers were not exactly satisfactory and the people arrayed in front of him were holding his feet to the fire. Every time that happened, the old man would bluntly tell the politicians that he¡¯d thought he knew better than them and that he had hidden the information on purpose, as he had no legal obligation to let anyone know. Whenever that happened, Raymond would cackle maniacally. Like someone who¡¯d just beat the casino out of several millions at blackjack. He was so enthralled that he didn¡¯t notice the roaches skittering around the TV. Though his goon did. Taking off his shoe and going over to squash them with a curse. They all hid at once. Making for the cover of the cabinets around the device and the crevices under them. I sighed and called out to Raymond once more. ¡°I think we can leave the gloating for another time.¡± I said slowly. ¡°We should move on to the main issue now.¡± Prepper鈥檚 Dungeon Chapter 96: The Traitor鈥檚 Cause. POV: Casper. Raymond looked like a kid who¡¯d just been told he had to go to bed because he had school tomorrow. His weasel-like face a mask of petulance and defiance all in one. ¡°Ah, I get it.¡± He said as his smile returned. ¡°You think this¡­¡± He licked his lips salaciously. ¡°Demeanor of mine is unbecoming. Especially for someone of my age?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care how you get your kicks.¡± I lied. ¡°If you want to gloat about Carlyle getting what¡¯s coming to him, then go ahead.¡± ¡°Oh yes. I think I will go ahead. I¡¯ll go right on ahead and savor this taste of victory as if it was a super-thick chocolate milkshake on a hot summer¡¯s day. It has been a long time coming after all.¡± He pointed back at the screen. ¡°This geezer sprung out of nowhere when my grandpa was doing business. And within a decade, he¡¯d pushed us out of the energy sector in a quarter of the east coast in the US. Within two, he¡¯d pushed us out of north America altogether and all that while crushing the competition in western Europe, south America and India. We literally could not compete no matter how hard we tried to lower prices. It got to the point where our engineers, my own father among them, started losing their minds because the output the old freak was putting out there was literally impossible to sustain at the prices he was offering. And I mean literally impossible. He said they were nuclear power plants, but that didn¡¯t make any sense either. I know cause we tried to copy him when we were under the impression that his success could be replicated. The freaking reds went crazy with their nuclear reactors at the same time we did, but we lost our shirts on those investments. And the reds started the whole Chernobyl debacle even when they didn¡¯t have to compete with Carlyle. Then the iron curtain falls and who rushes in to invest in the old soviet bloc? Why, Carlyle Robertson of course.¡± Raymond looked as if he were about to spit. ¡°My father was still dealing with the aftermath of all the scientists and doctors saying that cigarettes killed people when it happened. We were bleeding money fast and it was all we could do to move our farms and our customer base abroad. All while Carlyle cashed in on those fragile economies and the dotcom boom. Always managing to get out at just the right time to avoid his investments blowing up in his face. Why, I remember the fall of Enron. How the geezer rode that train until the very end and got out half a year before it blew up in everyone¡¯s faces. I remember that one event because my father started ripping out what little hair he had left in his deathbed.¡± Raymond sneered. Scrunching up his face in a manner oddly reminiscent of rat shaking their tiny fist. ¡°How is he doing this!?¡± My daddy shouted. ¡°How is he getting away with this!? He¡¯s insider trading but no one can catch him! How are the plants working!? How do they keep producing so much power!?¡± Raymond cackled and let his expression drop. ¡°We¡¯d sent spies of course. We¡¯d been sending them for over forty years by that point. Now don¡¯t look at me like that Casper. Industrial espionage is much more benign than you think. It just so happens that one industrialist may have a working formula that they can¡¯t get on a patent for some reason. If so, then why not try and copy them? Why not see what they were doing so you could try to do it better? Competition is healthy. The customer ends up winning in the end.¡± I nodded slowly. ¡°But none of them could figure it out either.¡± ¡°No.¡± Raymond confirmed. Now taking out a monster core from his pocket and balancing it gingerly on his fingers. ¡°We knew there was a reactor. Like in nuclear power plants. We knew water went in and water went out. However, the water wasn¡¯t tainted in any way and our best devices couldn¡¯t detect any kind of radiation or chemical traces in the outflowing water. Moreover, other conventional nuclear power plants always struggled to deal with the rods after they¡¯d been irradiated past the point of usage, and with other kinds of nuclear waste. Carlyle never had that problem. And whenever anyone in the government asked any kind of question, whether we prodded them or not, Caryle would throw money around. Along with a few smiles and promises and the whole thing would be dropped.¡± He let out a small cackle once again. ¡°And now I know that magic, Magic¡­ is real.¡± He gripped the core tightly in his thin fingers. ¡°Of all the fucking things. Actual, literal Magic. Or energy M as the guys in MIT are calling it. An actual, honest to goodness alien energy that changed how physics worked. Heh. Newton¡¯s stinky corpse would be doing barrel rolls in his grave if anyone bothered to tell him.¡± ¡°I hear the guys in MIT aren¡¯t doing much better.¡± I said casually. Stepping around another stain in the carpet. Making my way over to the couch, taking a single look at it, and thinking better of the prospect. ¡°No. No they are not.¡± Raymond confirmed. ¡°One of my younger nieces, a real talented girl, was working on her doctorate in physics when the news broke out. She wanted to be an astronaut you see. Now she¡¯s seeing a therapist for the first time. Going on about how nothing is real and the universe is much more volatile and we¡¯re all going to die the second someone triggers a chain reaction.¡± I nodded slowly. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. I was familiar with the type, given how many new recruits I¡¯d brought into the fold over the past decade. Oftentimes, they stared at me as if I was wearing a straightjacket. Right up until I started teleporting them around the world. A few went into shock and refused to speak for days. Their eyes open wide with haunted expressions. Yet others soiled themselves or turned to higher powers. Thinking me some sort of evil entity from their respective religion. Some of the women had even offered to be mistresses once we¡¯d explained how Cores worked in humans. The prospect of teleportation apparently being too good to pass up. Carlyle had laughed and even prompted me to take some of them up on it, the creep. ¡°In any case¡­¡± Raymond continued. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you how good it feels to finally have it all up in the open. To have other people finally open their eyes and see. To finally have justice for all the decent people of the¡­¡± We heard a crash from the adjacent room. Turning our heads to listen in on the noise. ¡°Oh no. Oh no! Oh nononononononono!¡± A feminine voice called out through the thin walls. ¡°Okay kids. Its okay. Its all okay. So what if the casserole got ruined. No problem. Let¡¯s just put it away and start again before your father comes.¡± We heard stomping from the hallway. ¡°Oh no! He¡¯s here already! Ok kids, let¡¯s just get rid of it quickly. Hopefully he had a good day at work.¡± ¡°Damn it! Work was horrible!¡± A smashing sound came from the hallway. ¡°What¡¯s that smell!? Oh that stupid bitch better not have burned the casserole again!¡± ¡°Eeek!¡± The feminine voice called out. ¡°Okay kids! Got to your rooms! Do it now! Don¡¯t get between us! You¡¯ll only make it worse!¡± Raymond¡¯s thug stood there. Mouth agape. Then he sighed. ¡°Right boss. I¡¯ll call the police.¡± The stout man said with a despondent voice. ¡°You will do no such thing.¡± Raymond snapped. ¡°We¡¯re not here. You hear me? None of us were ever here. And that is all Carlyle will learn. No calls.¡± The stout man looked back at his master in astonishment. His beady blue eyes widening before suddenly narrowing. ¡°Right on boss. I can live with that.¡± He reached out behind a cupboard and picked up a metal bat. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry your head sir. I can still teach a worm like this one a lesson or two. No police.¡± ¡°Put the bat down idiot.¡± Raymond snapped again. ¡°What happens to the people here is none of our business. Or do you want that fool to call the cops on us the second you leave?¡± The man stared back at his boss. With even more incredulity than before. Then the noises started coming out from behind the wall. ¡°You burned the casserole again bitch!?¡± ¡°Eek! I¡¯m sorry! I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m sorry! I¡¯ll whip up something else!¡± The sound of the strike carried over. Followed by a thud. Then another. ¡°You¡¯re looking down on me huh!? It¡¯s not enough that I work my ass off in that fucking store every day!? You have to let me know how much better you are than me!?¡± ¡°No!¡± A wounded moan came out. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to, I swear. It was an accident!¡± ¡°Sure it was! Just like how it was an accident when your mother called the police on me huh!? Now I got a criminal record! People at work are looking down on me because you¡¯re such a stupid bitch! What are you gonna do about it!?¡± A few more thuds followed. Along with the sounds of crying children in the distance. ¡°Don¡¯t even think about it.¡± Raymond snapped more harshly. ¡°She won¡¯t leave him even if you do something. In fact, she¡¯ll probably defend him until the last minute. And then she¡¯ll tell the cops who you were and what you looked like and that you started it. You might even walk out with a felony for breaking and entering once all is said and done.¡± The hairy, barrel-chested man turned around in incredulity. Then, when he spoke, his words came out in guttural growls. ¡°You were just talking about justice, sir.¡± ¡°Yeah. I was. Justice for humanity. Weren¡¯t you paying attention? What am I going to do about some idiot beating his wife? This kind of thing happens everywhere all the time. Let it go.¡± He then turned to me. ¡°Sorry about that Casper. Let¡¯s go back to talking about the future now.¡± I kept staring at the wall as thuds kept coming in one after the other. ¡°Hey, earth to Casper.¡± Raymond said while snapping his fingers in front of me. ¡°I need to speak with you about the Core. And the kid.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± I hissed out afterwards. My fists clenching and unclenching as I tried not to think about what was happening. ¡®I¡¯ll come back later.¡¯ I told myself. ¡®I¡¯ll help as soon as Raymond is gone. I still need him and his influence if I¡¯m going to survive Carlyle and ready the world appropriately.¡¯ ¡°Forgive me.¡± I said afterwards. ¡°Let¡¯s talk business.¡± ¡°Right.¡± Raymond confirmed. ¡°First off, how is our young heroic friend doing?¡± I shook my head. ¡°Not well. The eggs the gnome-wasp-thing injected into him were extracted via surgery and the wounds were closed with Magic, but we missed some kind of spore infection in his lungs. In all their lungs.¡± I shivered, thinking back to the improvised hospital wing. ¡°We¡¯ve been healing them and removing more and more tissue hour by hour, but its still a close thing. The infection keeps spreading to their veins and arteries. And to their intestines. The more we remove, the more the spores dig into their tissues. At this point, forget healing them. It looks like we¡¯re slowly flaying them open.¡± ¡°Are you still sedating them?¡± The old man asked. ¡°Yeah, of course.¡± ¡°Good. I¡¯d hate for our new friend to up and die on us before he started becoming useful.¡± Raymond moved over to the fridge and pulled out a couple of bananas. Eating them with relish before then pulling out a thick cigar and lighting it. ¡°What about Uter¡¯s boy?¡± I shook my head. ¡°It¡¯s likely he¡¯s still holed up in the Dungeon. It¡¯s also likely he¡¯s the one putting out the monsters we¡¯ve seen so far. That¡¯s the only way to explain how few people have died so far.¡± Raymond nodded along as he drew in more smoke into his lungs. ¡°I see. That¡¯s good. The more people get Magic, the more we can hire later to offset the influence Carlyle already built up over decades. If anything, we need to make sure more of the public go down there while the going is good. I¡¯ve been donating weapons of course. The melee kind. Swords and axes and hammers. That kind of thing. We¡¯re also designing a steel spear that can be mass produced. But I¡¯m thinking we¡¯ll have to start charging for them sooner rather than later. Other than that, I¡¯ve been thinking about¡­¡± There was a feminine scream coming from behind the wall. Following by children shouting an more thuds. The shouting stopped. ¡°I¡¯ve been thinking about raffles.¡± Raymond continued. ¡°Like a lottery where you have to bring in a monster core to participate. I figure each core is valuable enough that even the biggest prizes pay for themselves, but very few people have thought to buy them in bulk so far. I hear grumbling that the military is going to start trading for them in a month after they figure out Carlyle¡¯s tricks and see how they can implement them, so we have to move fast while the going is good.¡± He took another drag and breathed out another cloud of smoke. ¡°On that note, it¡¯s about time you get Uter¡¯s boy back Casper.¡± Raymond beamed. ¡°I mean, relocating the actual Dungeon Core is a must, but just think about the other possibilities. How good do you think a magic cigarette would taste like? Would it even be harmful? What could we do with marketing?¡± He chuckled to himself. ¡°Oh yes. Just think of the marketing.¡± Prepper鈥檚 Dungeon Chapter 97: The Traitor鈥檚 Hostages. POV: Casper. The streets only got busier and busier the closer I got to the Dungeon entrance. With more and more people either crowding around makeshift stalls to buy or sell equipment or otherwise trying to get through the crowds with their catch intact. A quick glance revealed why. Cecil had obviously been busy designing new creatures for his murder pit in order to encourage folks to delve deeper and deeper. One of his new additions seemed to be little more than a walking fish monster that¡­ against all odds¡­ smelled amazing. Even while raw. Furthermore, the beings grown from sunflowers had their insides stuffed with vibrant, sweet-smelling tissues as well. With their veins filled with something that smelled suspiciously like mango juice. Most people would have balked at the idea of dragging those kinds of things away from a murder hole in the ground in order to eat it of course. At least, they would have before everything went as bad as it did. Now though, the fish monsters looked like they were some of the most popular things on the market, with the bodies of the sunflower monsters being a close second. Indeed, on closer inspection, a fair few of those people carrying them out met with other groups carrying tarps in order to wrap their trophies up and strap them into pickup trucks or¡­ failing that¡­ into actual carts pulled by donkeys. Or people. Suspiciously muscular people. That brought a smile to my face. ¡®It¡¯s been less than a month, and the guys here already figured out that it doesn¡¯t make sense to use pack animals.¡¯ I mused with some pride. The effort of moving the carts would also count as a workout. And a very significant one at lower levels. If one wanted to get stronger as quickly as possible, then the smartest way to go about it was to adopt a lifestyle where you were being pushed in all kinds of small ways when you weren¡¯t training or actively hunting. It would give the magic time to settle, and the incremental decimal point gains would add up by the time you got your first level. Granted, there were better ways of going about it. Homer and Russell¡¯s tried and true method of running up and down the wooded hills near town like a maniac with weighted clothing came to mind. But heavy manual labor would do. ¡°Hey!¡± A voice called out next to me. I turned. ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°Stop blocking the way man! Some of us need to work for a living! Move along! The slaughterhouse is paying top dollar for the fish freaks and I we need to get them there before the afternoon shift leaves.¡± I blinked at the man again. Noting his Kevlar vest and the welded metal plates protecting the rest of his body. I hadn¡¯t caught on at first because he looked so small and relatively skinny, but this guy and the group behind him must have been some of the new delvers. One of the groups trying to take things more seriously from the looks of things. ¡®Though they don¡¯t have any kind of uniformity. And their gear sucks.¡¯ The welded metal plates might help. Strong emphasis on ¡®might¡¯. But wearing Kevlar to a Dungeon made as much sense as delving in a string bikini. With bloody slices of prime rib stapled to your privates. The regular monsters like the Rippers back home wouldn¡¯t even think of shooting you. Because they couldn¡¯t. And even the few monsters that could theoretically hold guns, like the ghouls and some gargoyles, would much prefer to beat you to death of inject you with venom while biting chunks off of you. Kevlar failed because it was both heavier and less effective than a bunch of welded plates pout together on top of your chest. Also, even in cases where you did get shot, like with Cecil¡¯s own monsters, the ammunition he used meant that the vest would do less than nothing. The roaches being able to chew straight through it and into your organs where regular bullets might have been deflected. Given that they were all wearing either football or motorcycle helmets, these guys might have done better by simply wearing padded motorcycle outfits or actual football equipment. At least while they were just getting started. I said as much and got a bunch of weird looks from the men and women. All of them staring at me as if I were speaking Mandarin. ¡°And how do you know we won¡¯t get shot?¡± One of the women with short hair asked. ¡°The bodies they pulled looked they¡¯d been punctured a whole bunch. And they started spurting out those human-faced freakish things when they were being dissected.¡± Her face twisted into a visage that suggested she was about to vomit. ¡°They got shot full of eggs.¡± Another woman embraced her and pulled her close. While a bigger man behind them spoke up. ¡°Yeah man. Listen. No disrespect, but I think we¡¯ll keep the Kevlar for now. I don¡¯t wanna die, but if I do die, I don¡¯t want my body to go around Ourtube as a horror video.¡± ¡°Or to show up in mockumentaries.¡± Another man added in. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Then his eyes went towards the leashes I had and widened. ¡°Oooooh. You¡¯re one of those are you?¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked. The rest of the group followed their friend¡¯s lead and also whistled. ¡°The kind of guy who goes into the Dungeon with live bait.¡± He said. Nodding. ¡°Honestly, a lot of people think it¡¯s a bit of waste of good veal. And I sorta agree. The monsters come to you easily enough and they wander into traps enough as is. There¡¯s no need to bring animals in to bait them out.¡± He looked different all of the sudden. Almost nostalgic. ¡°Damn but it is good to see real living animals again.¡± He chuckled to himself. ¡°Folks had a farm way back when, but it got bought out after mom got a gambling addiction and we had to mortgage it again. I remember having to clean up the pig pens and hating the smell. I remember thinking how much I wanted to live in the city.¡± He let out a self-depreciating chortle. ¡°Turns out stupid kids will think whatever.¡± He reached out a hand, slowly. As if to pet the piglet. ¡°Hey there little lass. How are you?¡± Pravda reared as far back as she could. Kobe the calf doing the same. ¡°Aww. That¡¯s a shame.¡± The man said. ¡°Though maybe you didn¡¯t waste your time after all.¡± The bigger man spoke up. ¡°I haven¡¯t had a good cut of veal in a long time. And the pig will be good and fat in a month or two, I reckon. How much for them?¡± I raised a hand to forestall the offer. ¡°Sorry, but they¡¯re not for sale.¡± I said softly. ¡°Oh come on man. Don¡¯t be like that. You¡¯re obviously gonna have them die some way if you¡¯re bringing them out here. Not like they¡¯re pets. Why not make a buck?¡± He reached for his wallet and pulled out a solid lump of scratched leather. So full it barely closed. Then he pulled out a bundle of $50 bills as if it was nothing. Then he shot me an impish grin. ¡°The city¡¯s only handing out fruits and veggies as emergency food. Yeah, they¡¯re great. Better than almost anything, but magic fish is still selling at a premium since the Dungeon¡¯s the only way to get it. We¡¯re running a V-E-R-Y lucrative operation here. Why not indulge a fat guy his tastes eh?¡± I looked him up and down. Raising an eyebrow. He blushed as his friends giggled. ¡°Okay, so maybe I lost a lot of weight with the whole magic veggies thing. But I used to be a real champion back in my day. Won six hotdog eating contests all across the country. And even more awards with my burger business.¡± ¡°The Proud Skidmark.¡± One of the men around him laughed out loud. ¡°Fuck you too George. The Proud Pound was the best thing that ever happened to you and you know it.¡± The men around him laughed, but the large muscular man looked almost as if he might be about to cry. ¡°Oh, but I do miss my truck.¡± He half-sobbed. ¡°She was a beauty, she was. My pride and joy.¡± I didn¡¯t need to ask what had happened to it. Businesses big and small failed all the time and times had been tough indeed. ¡®At least they seem to be doing well for themselves now.¡¯ I consoled myself. Yes. If there was something to be said for the betrayal, was that it gave regular people like this man and the people who I guessed were his former employees a fighting chance. In another time, in another life, they would have had to struggle for their very lives as the economy burned around them and food became scarcer and scarcer. All while Caryle hoarded knowledge and resources. ¡®Stupid. So stupid. He should have told everyone ahead of time. It might have saved so many lives. Maybe someone would have found a way to mitigate the effects of magic. Maybe other people would get the same Magic as Cecil. There¡¯s no way to know what the limits are without a much larger sample.¡¯ Even when Cecil had upended the whole system Carlyle had in place, him and his food were not made public knowledge. Instead, Caryle wasted no time in manipulating things so that he and his would have complete control of the food supply in the coming years. ¡®He laughed at me when I complained.¡¯ I recalled. ¡®The man actually laughed.¡¯ ¡°What would you have me do?¡± Carlyle¡¯s voice echoed in my ears. ¡°Let the governments of the world enact martial law once they realize how bad the situation really is? Let them lock Cecil up in some black site and try to do unspeakable things to him in hopes of replicating his powers? Because you, what? Think the governments of the world are more qualified to decide how this breakthrough is used?¡± Even his secretary had laughed in the distance. ¡°Casper, the average congressman can¡¯t tell his ass from his elbows half the time and most of them use enough drugs to emasculate your average rapper. You¡¯re telling me that people without STEM degrees, people who would be lucky to flip burgers if they weren¡¯t in politics, are going to be able to guide the country through an apocalypse better than me; who literally saw the future and came back to fix things?¡± Carlyle had actually turned to spit. ¡°They couldn¡¯t do it the first time around. What makes you think they¡¯ll do any better now?¡± Caryle had refused to speak of the topic after that. Instead moving on to how I could help the cause. Naturally, the idea he came up with was me slitting another world leader¡¯s throat from ear to ear. I shook my head to dispel the memories and apologized to the men once more. Turning to leave with the calf and the piglet in hand. Others gave me similar offers the closer I got to the military checkpoint by the entrance. Even getting flustered when I kept rejecting them. ¡°Waste of good meat.¡± They kept saying. Either that or things like: ¡°Oh my gosh! They¡¯re so cute! You can¡¯t bring these darlings down to the Dungeon you sick man! Let me give them a home!¡± I refused them all the same and finally made it to where the military had set up a barricade. The aperture having emerged in what looked like the skeleton of an abandoned bodega. There was a tank next to it and sandbags all around the premises, but none of the soldiers seemed especially worried about what might be coming out. Instead, they were concerned with who was going in. ¡°Papers please.¡± A sergeant said gruffly. ¡°Any kind of Photo ID will do. Also, you need to have a weapon and at least have your chest covered. And you can¡¯t go in by yourself. Teams of four or more only. Where¡¯s your first aid kit?¡± I raised a hand to forestall the questions. ¡°I¡¯m wearing armor underneath.¡± I assured him. ¡°You can punch me if you want to check. Here¡¯s my ID.¡± I passed him a fake driver¡¯s license and watched with some amusement as he actually did punch me. Swearing like a sailor on leave after the fact as some of his fingers got dislocated. ¡°What the fuck are you wearing underneath that?¡± He asked more politely. ¡°I thought you were just saying that to get past. People get killed acting tough you know?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a very thin armor. A new kind.¡± I lied. ¡°As for my group, I¡¯m just waiting for them to arrive. Shouldn¡¯t be long now.¡± ¡°Then step to the side sir. You¡¯re blocking the line.¡± I did so with a curt nod and moved towards a closed-off section of road, where park benches had been placed around another group of stall. Each selling a variation of cooked fish meat and produce. Raymond¡¯s muscle should be close by. At least, they shouldn¡¯t take more than a few hours to get here. Once they arrived, it would be a simple matter of delving far enough so that no one was around to surprise us. For a moment, I wondered if Uter¡¯s message would do the trick. If the recorded words would keep Cecil in the right state of mind. ¡®It¡¯s possible.¡¯ I told myself. ¡®But it never hurts to be careful.¡¯ The animals were here ostensibly as hostages for that very reason. Uter figuring Cecil liked them enough that he would at least stop and think more carefully about what was happening. At least long enough for me to choke him into unconsciousness if it came to that. But I really did hope it didn¡¯t come to that. Cecil was as much a victim of Caryle as any of the other children born into his little eugenics project. More so, in fact, because at least the other children had not been kidnapped. Nor were they forced to endure Carlyle¡¯s sloppy, degenerate attempts at matchmaking two fourteen-year-olds together like some kind of sick pervert. That line of thinking brought me to Elsie, and then, to James. James Robertson. Who had once been a mentor. And his son Charles, who had once been a friend. Prepper鈥檚 Dungeon Chapter 98: The Professionals. POV: Casper. I had evidently made more than one mistake in my assumptions. To start with, I had assumed that I would be stuck here waiting for a few hours at most. Maybe three. After all, Raymond did know what was at stake and he was the one who stood to gain the most out of this situation. Which meat that, out of all of us, he was supposed to be the one who wished to see the end of this situation more than anyone else. But I found out later that he had taken his sweet time calling his so-called professionals in. The second mistake I made was thinking that these professionals were actually¡­ well. Professionals. In my mind¡¯s eye, the guys coming over would have been part of a PMC or something close to it. People who might not be necessarily the most moral of folks, but who could at least be trusted to know which end of a gun the bullets came out of and to have some trigger discipline. The men that came to greet me looked nothing like that. Oh they were big. And mean. And the average person would have found them intimidating. But they had more in common to the man Raymond had kept in his hideout than with any kind of military personnel. Indeed, a great many of them would have looked right at home in front of a fancy nightclub. Where a nice suit would have lent them some air of authority. To their credit, most of them did seem to be armed and they did seem very comfortable with the weapons they did have. Unfortunately, those weapons were the recently popular war-hammers and a few larger pistols as sidearms. And their armor was similarly fashioned. Thick, homemade plate in the style of late renaissance armor, with thick clothing beneath the protective shell. Honestly, I wasn¡¯t even sure where to start with the disappointment. On the one hand, this had been the very thing I had recommended to Raymond and Ryuji and all our other co-conspirators for beginners. It was tough, relatively easy to put together with modern tools and surprisingly light and flexible. Despite how popular media portrayed knights as heavy, clumsy fools who could barely move without a horse. So me being let down wasn¡¯t exactly fair. On the other hand¡­ well. I had made it plain that this would be the bare minimum. For beginners. The children back in town had access to synthetic fibers that could take a spray of bullets like it was nothing and those were skin-tight. Which meant you could have even more armor over them. Granted, those were all made with Magic and with the auspices of Carlyle Robertson¡¯s great big dragon¡¯s hoard of wealth funding ever step, but the point still stood. Given Raymond¡¯s resources I¡¯d expected some kind of futuristic alloy on display or something. I mean, Ryuji had managed it in less than a year, so there was no reason Raymond couldn¡¯t be held to that same standard. ¡®Though I suspect the younger man had something like that cooking for a long, long time before the threat of monsters became evident.¡¯ The disappointment in me grew more and more pronounced as the men shooed away the other Delvers who were either coming back up with the bodies of the fish-men or going in with improvised weapons and padded armor. Not only were they not armored properly, but their manners left a lot to be desired. Granted, I hadn¡¯t expected much. But this was a disappointment all on its own. At the very least, I had expected the men Raymond picked out to know better than to antagonize the people who may very well be in a position to save their sorry lives later on. Also, I had hoped they¡¯d be smart enough to know the whole point of the operation was to get Cecil out discretely. Something that became harder and harder the more attention these bumbling idiots drew to themselves. Case in point, I had had a helmet on this whole time. With the visor down so that my face and features were completely hidden. Even then, I was wearing colored contacts and several layers of my old light armor beneath my own cheap-looking winter coat. All to make my frame seem thicker than it actually was. The ensemble looked ridiculous. But that was the whole point. People would not expect someone who looked so oddly off-balance to be level 5. And they would certainly not expect someone like that to be able to pick up tanks and throw them around like children¡¯s toys. More importantly, whomever Carlyle had hunting me through whatever cameras they could access in the city would have a much harder time picking me out from the crowd. Even when you accounted for the piglet and the calf his granddaughter had gifted Cecil. Stupid as the prospect seemed, I had not been the only one to show up with animals in tow. Though most other people brought along chickens or turkeys or in the worst cases, hamsters, instead of pigs or cattle. It would have been a mild risk under normal circumstances. As I figured no one would look twice at an entourage like mine if they spent an hour or two meandering about the waiting area. Making small talk with the other delvers and purchasing food from the stalls at ludicrously inflated prices. That was another thing that had surprised me. The damnable prices. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Oh, the produce handed out by the city was free of course. Merely food aid to help people get through the worst of the crisis. Whether Carlyle or Cecil was behind the ploy, it did not matter. The people were fed and that was that. But the human spirit is hardly content with being on par with their peers under normal circumstances. And so it had come to pass that the flesh of the fish monsters had turned into a sort of delicacy for the people here. Something of a treat to enjoy, where everyone else was having pumpkin or lettuce. Which naturally made the price skyrocket. Which I found pretty freaking funny, as eating monster was the first sign someone was completely crass and classless back in town. ¡®I guess circumstances shape the culture.¡¯ I mused internally. Marshalling my will and returning the men¡¯s greetings. ¡°Thank you for coming so quickly.¡± I said. Somehow managing to erase all traces of sarcasm from my voice with herculean effort. ¡°Not at all Mr. Door.¡± One of the men answered sheepishly. ¡°Honestly, it was our bad. We kinda got lost on the way and it took us a lot longer to get here than we would have liked.¡± I arched an eyebrow. The man coughed into his own mailed fist and looked abashed. ¡°We ran into, some old acquaintances, you could say.¡± ¡®Oh perfect.¡¯ I thought with another pang of dread. ¡®Not only did our dear posse arrive late to the party, but they also spent some time catching up before coming here. Maybe even drinking with the boys in town before they deigned to show up.¡¯ Okay, so maybe that was a bit unfair. I couldn¡¯t smell any alcohol on their breaths so it couldn¡¯t have been that bad. Regardless, the wait had left me in a foul mood, so I just nodded along as the man spurted out a whole host of excuses and prepared myself to enter the Dungeon proper. Thankfully, the darkened sky above our heads meant that very few people were lining up to keep delving, so we managed to enter the forsaken hole with little to no trouble. After that, we walked. Or rather, they walked in front of me. Putting those hammers to good use on the sunflower monsters we kept coming across. The metal heads cracking the tissues of the plant monsters as if they were snapping twigs in half as we moved. ¡°Where did you get those hammers?¡± I asked curiously. ¡°Hmn?¡± The man who seemed to be the leader turned to face me after their third battle. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°I mean that they¡¯re very well made.¡± I told them truthfully enough. ¡°The balance looks to be just right and the heads aren¡¯t as large or imposing as some of the other homemade hammers I¡¯ve seen around the streets.¡± Which made sense. Movies and video games had given a lot of otherwise clever people some very weird ideas about what constituted a good hammer. What with heavy heads often being the size of watermelons or filled with spikes like the kind of hammers butchers used to process and grind down meat. In truth, you were better off with a steel head that was light and compact, so the small surface area would carry the force of the whole blow in a concentrated zone. It still needed to be strong enough to stand there and not fly off or bend at an awkward angle, but that point was moot if the whole weapon was made of good steel or other, better materials. More importantly, they were a better choice than swords. As most of the city had no doubt realized by now. A sword was often a secondary weapon and, while lethal, would lose sharpness quickly through repeated engagements. Not to mention how useless they were in tight, confined spaces where you couldn¡¯t swing. That was why the children were often given spears back in town. And why these hammers were topped off with spears as well. Spikes sitting prettily at a right angle to the heads. If the corridors got too cramped, then it was stabbing time and no one needed to contemplate wrestling one or two monsters to the ground. ¡°Oh we got these at a machine shop.¡± The leader said casually. ¡°What¡¯s the name of the machine shop?¡± I insisted. Mostly because Raymond had mentioned starting his own chain of weapon stores later on and he was exactly the kind of mouth breathing moron who would put one of his drooling cousins in charge, instead of expanding on the good process he already had and promoting whomever was in charge. I didn¡¯t have too much influence over him at the moment, but hopefully he¡¯d at least see reason when it came to this. The leader went silent, only for a moment, but still¡­ He seemed to be processing the question too much. As if it was some kind of big secret. I started to get a feeling then. The kind I always got before Carlyle burst into my house and asked me to kill someone for him. A feeling that something wasn¡¯t right. ¡°Smithee¡¯s.¡± The man answered finally. ¡°Smithee¡¯s.¡± I echoed him. ¡°Yes. We got these from Smithee¡¯s machine shop. He¡¯s very famous you know.¡± I went quiet. Now looking at their armor more closely and starting to see an odd resemblance I couldn¡¯t quite place. It was a small feeling at the back of my mind, but I couldn¡¯t help it. The closer I looked, the more familiar the designs felt. But where had I seen them before? ¡®Back in town? No. It¡¯s still too crude for something people would wear back in town.¡¯ I decided. ¡®So where?¡¯ The piglet and the calf started squirming then and they turned and tried to run. Their little legs pushing feebly against the ropes binding their necks. I turned and pulled on their leashes. Bringing them closer to me while another of the men coughed into his hand. ¡°Sir? Maybe I should take care of the animals from now on?¡± ¡°No.¡± I answered. ¡°They¡¯re important for the person we¡¯re here for. They need to stay safe.¡± ¡°I know sir, but we need to stay safe as well.¡± The man urged me. ¡°And you looked so out of sorts just a moment ago. I¡¯m starting to get worried the animals are distracting you.¡± I scoffed. ¡°I assure you, I¡¯ve been in way more fights than you young man. I will not be distracted by a pig and a small baby cow. Now, you will turn around and keep fighting. Trust me. You need all the help you can get.¡± ¡°Well, yeah sir. But maybe you should take point just in case.¡± Another man stepped forward. ¡°I mean, what if we get overwhelmed in a fight and something happens to the animals?¡± That statement¡­. I stopped and tried to reason it out. Trying to find what about it made me so uncomfortable. It was weird. Like having a needle poking at the back of my mind. Like there was something obvious that I wasn¡¯t seeing. But no matter how hard I tried to focus, the statement kept making some kind of sense. These men had supposedly been told I was some prodigy of Magic by Raymond. It would only make sense for them to see me in action. Whether because they were curious or because Raymond had ordered them to report on what I could do with my own Magic. I made some kind of sense. It really did. So, why was I so unsettled? ¡°Anyone can take care of a few animals.¡± The man insisted. ¡°You¡¯re the only one who can fight off a horde of monsters if they come in all at once.¡± That feeling lessened somewhat. ¡°Yes.¡± I said at last. Forcing the gut feeling down. ¡°Yes, I guess you¡¯re right.¡± I offered him the leashes and the man took them with a nod. Moving back to pet the piglet and the calf again. Seeming to relish the opportunity to caress them and to soothe them. ¡®I guess he just likes animals.¡¯ I thought to myself. That ill feeling lessening somewhat. ¡®I guess I can understand that. Lots of people like animals.¡¯ ¡°All right.¡± The leader said once more. ¡°We¡¯ve wasted enough time. Let¡¯s move out.¡± Prepper鈥檚 Dungeon Chapter 99: Into the Second. POV: Casper. The ill feelings soon faltered and faded as we delved deeper and deeper into the depth of the earth. The first floor had been a labyrinthine expanse of tunnels that snaked and twisted up and down and left and right. With many, many forks on the road that might sometimes lead to dead ends and sometimes to deadly ambushes where dozens upon dozens of the sunflower units might be waiting for us. I said deadly, only because normal humans would have needed to either form up in tight formations or retreat in order to survive. Which was odd, because as far as I or Raymond knew, there had been very few casualties in the Dungeon and many of those that had actually occurred could be traced back to betrayal from greedy teammates, rather than a pummeling from monsters. ¡®I read somewhere that they usually only come in one at a time.¡¯ I recalled. ¡®That even with numerical advantages, the monsters don¡¯t gang up on you. Instead, they form up in nice and tight little lines. Ready to be crippled and ripped apart.¡¯ These ones were not doing that. These ones were constantly trying to surround us and to choke away any avenues of escape. These ones moved steadily with purpose and tried to close in to our flanks. The men with me closed in and did not give an inch. Using their weapons to bat away resistance and to cleave plant matter apart wherever they found it. They cleaved and they cut and they counter-charged. Moving in concert with all the swiftness of a regular party back home. After a few such battles, my dread regarding the men Raymond found soon turned to admiration. My own conscience admonishing me in the privacy of my own mind. ¡®You judged them too soon.¡¯ I told myself. ¡®You thought they¡¯d be useless. You made baseless assumptions. You know what they say about assuming.¡¯ After a few more hours and another 20 battles, that feeling of admonishment turned to a greater sense of surprise. We had all come down a long way now, and I had not heard a single complaint. Not about the heat they were no doubt feeling with all that armor while they exercised. Not about the dampness in the air which no doubt made the heat all the more unbearable. Not about the constant squealing of the animals as we fought our way deeper and deeper and not about how claustrophobic some of the corridors were becoming the deeper we went. Moreover, they were doing an exemplary job with rationing out our precious few resources. In all the hours we had been delving, only two of the men had taken sips of water from the canteens. And even then, the sips had been brief and shallow. Only a few gulps of cool water to stave off dehydration before moving on. And is if all that wasn¡¯t enough, I hadn¡¯t heard a single complaint about our current pace. Which was all the more surprising given how we hadn¡¯t had a single break that lasted longer than a few minutes. Normal people would simply not have had the stamina to keep up this pace unless they¡¯d been trained to run marathons. ¡®Or unless they had plenty of military experience.¡¯ I mused. A young-ish veteran would be of the right age to run this much and this hard before their body started failing and they would have had the training necessary to build up their endurance while carrying heavy loads. If they were well-disciplined, that might explain how they were able to stay in formation so well, even in the relative darkness and how none of them had broken so far. ¡®If I didn¡¯t know any better, I would have thought they had prior delving experience.¡¯ I thought with some amusement. But no. The more likely answer was that I had underestimated my new companions and that Raymond had known his stuff after all. If things went well for these men here, he would have a fairly decent group of fighters with good Cores in his retinue. Not a thing to take lightly now that the world was going mad all around us. ¡®And they¡¯ll be able to train others after them too. If Raymond plays his cards right, he might even be able to create a whole new PMC out of these men before the world fully descends into anarchy.¡¯ The thought was oddly comforting, in that more people with good Cores getting experience and training others was just the right way to make sure humanity didn¡¯t die out in the coming decades when the monsters grew more fearsome and most forms of non-magical wildlife either adapted or went extinct. In contrast, the thought of Raymond getting his hands on this much soft power would have given Carlyle a heart attack under normal circumstances. ¡®Though I guess he has more important things to worry about.¡¯ My mind shifted back to the old man then. Wondering how long congress would keep him occupied. Raymond had sworn up and down that he¡¯d taken care of it, but those were dubious claims. ¡°Congressmen can¡¯t be bought man.¡± He¡¯d said casually over the phone. ¡°But they are surprisingly cheap to rent out for a few months or years at a time. I¡¯ve spread some cash around for just such an occasion. It¡¯ll be a bipartisan inquiry. One that will get dragged out for a good few weeks at least. Just trust me on this and stay the course.¡± I wished I shared his optimism. Alas, Carlyle had never been one to get too tied up in politics. Partly because he had me slitting the throats of anyone that became too problematic and partly because he too knew how to rent out the right politicians for the right price at the right time to make it work. In fact, the reality that he hadn¡¯t vanished from the public eye yet was a small miracle as far as I was concerned. ¡®Then again, you did underestimate Raymond¡¯s men.¡¯ I chided myself. ¡®Maybe you shouldn¡¯t be so quick to underestimate Raymond the same way.¡¯ I nodded to myself and continued walking. Down past the series of broken doors and scattered furniture that marked the spot Ryuji and the other survivors had described in their fevered recollections. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. ¡®They died here.¡¯ I thought silently. ¡®This place killed them when the gnome-wasp hybrids came around.¡¯ Well, that and the spores. I looked back at the men on instinct and then did my best to snap my head back quickly without arousing too much suspicion. The spores Cecil had let out did not care in the slightest what kinds of precautions you had in place or what kind of filters you used in your gas masks. During testing, the things had chewed right through the very best materials that Raymond had produced. And so it was decided that bothering with them was a fool¡¯s errand. The only way to make sure you didn¡¯t die from them, would be to actually find Cecil and explain that the plan had mostly been dreamt up by his uncle. And that he and his aunt wanted to see him back home safely. Then you¡¯d have to hope against hope that Cecil would be calm enough to actually remove them from your body. Rather than, say, removing your lungs through your asshole. I shook my head quickly and determined to keep pushing on. ¡®There¡¯s nothing I could have done for these men and Raymond supposedly explained the risks. No reason to dwell on them right now.¡¯ I would be fine with my level of course, but if Cecil should prove a bit more¡­ aggressive then previously thought then¡­ ¡®Then they will all die. Screaming. Right alongside Ryuji and his girlfriends and the few others we were able to rescue in time.¡¯ I pushed past a series of doors and came out into a plain filled with green grasses. With towering Sky Shrooms reminiscent of those in the Dunstonberry Dungeon. Fungal matter reaching up into the false sky with wanton ambition. I felt something coming towards me and my limbs and my Magic sprung into action. I dodged on instinct. Teleporting a few meters away just in time to avoid a volley of bullet-shaped seeds flying past. These bullets flew past the open door and hit only empty air. The other men having stood a few ways back instead of following me. Perhaps it had been a lucky guess or perhaps it had been some soldier¡¯s instinct. Or perhaps it had been some measure of fatigue finally catching up to them. It didn¡¯t matter. The men were safe and so were the animals. So I turned around and made to find the origin of the assault. ¡®Ugh!¡¯ I groaned internally. ¡®Green Bean shooters. The same kind that Cecil first made when he was still getting a hold of his powers.¡¯ They were easy enough to kill, but the problem was finding them when they were camouflaged. The things could more or less completely deflate themselves and retreat into the tiniest crevices and scars in the stone along the walls and the false ceiling above. All it took was a casual glance in the wrong direction or an inspection that wasn¡¯t as thorough as it should have been and you¡¯d find yourself being sniped. The things had not been strong enough to pierce my skin back then, but it never hurt to be careful. I lowered my profile and began to teleport over and over about the place. Keepings my eyes drifting about quickly between targets in order to find the origin of the fire. ¡®Where are you.¡¯ I thought with mounting irritation. ¡®Where are you?¡¯ I followed the original direction of the volley, knowing full well that they could and would lure me away in order to snipe me in the back. So I had to look out for the original shooters, as well as any number of other entrenched shooters who might be looking out to get an easy kill. At the same time, I cursed Cecil in my mind. ¡®Damn you kid! How did you think putting these things here was a good idea!? They almost killed your friends back when you brought them down to the fourth! It took a long freaking time for Russell to find them all and tear them out! How did you think normal humans would fare against these kinds of things!?¡¯ In the mind of a normal human from the city above us, they would be going from a somewhat tense series of melee engagements to suddenly finding themselves in the middle of a gunfight against nearly invisible snipers. Ones who would happily keep shooting until they were killed and who would then re-grow to keep shooting long after that. I made another jump, when another monster leapt at me. It was a¡­ ¡®A Ripper?¡¯ I was so confused that I flinched. Stopping for less than a single second when the thing leapt at me. A normal Ripper would have shattered its fangs on my skin. This one actually managed to clamp down and press those fangs a few millimetres inwards. A single canine drawing a small trickle of blood. I swung my arm. Hard. Sending the thing flying across the grasslands even as three volleys from three different directions found me. Shredding my suit to ribbons as they impacted over and over again with all the force of anti-tank rounds. I was about to teleport away, when I felt other things snaking up my legs. Sharp thorny vines that failed to penetrate my skin, but that still felt itchy and uncomfortable as they tried to entangle me. I kicked out, or at least I tried to. But I could not position myself in the right way to find the proper leverage. I teleported again. Taking some of the vines with me, but otherwise managing to get away cleanly. I heard a roar and felt my stomach dropping as I looked back to where the men had been standing. Rippers who I could now see were made of green vines comingling with Foxes whose tails ended in serpent heads. Green-brown gorillas and bears made of leaves and bark following close behind. Just like the ones I had first seen Cecil create during that night in Alaska. ¡®They will all die!¡¯ I realized. Now rushing to teleport into the exit of the first floor. Hoping I could at least rescue a few of them before they died. ¡°Cecil!¡± I shouted. Hoping against hope that he was listening. As I knew he could do through his monsters ¡°Don¡¯t kill those men! They¡¯re friends! We¡¯re all friends! We¡¯re here to save you!¡± I was teleporting immediately after. Looking to grab a few men and disappear immediately after and when I appeared at the other end I saw¡­ I saw the men. With their torsos sliced open at the middle. Showing not red blood trickling down or intestines falling to the earth, but solid, dry, green spaces. Emptied of their contents. Their hands clasping heavy-looking green shotguns. Their eyes found me in the same second as my eyes found them. They fired. All at once. The ceiling collapsing in on itself at the very same moment and dropping tons upon tons of compressed rock on top of me. The bullets did not penetrate the skin, though they did stagger me. The weight of the ceiling did a whole lot more. Dust entering my lungs seconds before I managed to teleport away. Even then, I did not appear on the surface, as I¡¯d intended. Instead, I was on the green plains again, badgers made of tree bark rushing up from the ground to bite down at my limbs before trying to tunnel backwards into the dirt. The Sky Shrooms seemed to be bleeding all around me. Their red juices exploding from the fungal matter of their pale trunks. I coughed. My mind swirling. ¡®Red?¡¯ I thought distantly. Feeling that couldn¡¯t be right. ¡®Red? No. Sky Shroom juices aren¡¯t red. What¡¯s¡­ what is happening?¡¯ Then I recalled the men and their open stomachs and the absence of the animals. ¡°Cecil! Cecil! The men! Where! Where are the real¡­!?¡± ¡°Dead.¡± A slithering thing spoke out loud. Walking on two heavy rear legs and clutching a massive plant-like organ with its four forelimbs. It had an extremely pronounced, ridged forehead that now glowed with ambient Magic. Its sides flanked by three more smaller units. ¡°They tasted like honey as I devoured them.¡± I tried to teleport away, but the effort sent me into the air, above one of the mushrooms. My body tumbling down the falling red waterslide of jelly as my nostrils flared with the acrid scent. My mind taking everywhere and nowhere in that instant. I saw James again. And Charles. Both staring daggers at me. Judging me for my betrayal. ¡°My aren¡¯t you a fun one.¡± The monster laughed. ¡°Guess Elsie wasn¡¯t overselling the potency of the Sky Shrooms¡¯ juices. Though I suppose my little alterations did help. Tell me, traitor. How would you like to die?¡± I tried to teleport again, but my mind sent me into a puddle instead. Vines snaking up my limbs again to ensnare me. I tried to lift myself. To clear away the panic, but all I could focus on were the faces of Charles and James. All I could think about was their voices. I tried to drown them out, but a swirl of pleasure cut into me at the same time. My mind recalling the birth of my children. The day I met my wife for the first time. The sound of her laugh. The memory, tasted to sweet, that it became bitter. I vomited and my vomit was red as blood. Human blood. With sickly green spots here and there. ¡°You aren¡¯t going to get away that easily, traitor.¡± Three more voices called out. ¡°We have had a great deal of time to prepare for the likes of you, after all.¡±